Hey all! Well something you'd probably all love to hear; I finally got an editor, Kukyu!! *Grin* No more REALLY bad mistakes, well at least not so many! The part about cabin fever is inspired by Fairy Queen, or more precisely induced by Fairy-chan. She kept putting ideas in my head....and then she draged me shopping.....
-IV- Broken, Inside and Out
Days past slow in angry hazes for Bulma. She been confined in a small room for what she assumed to be about a week, give or take a day or two. Her meals were brought and left on a small table by a pale looking woman who adamantly refused to talk. Eventually her arrogant captor would visit her and their encounters would always be the same; they'd fight and it usually ended as a draw, both fuming over their hatred for the other. Over the course of the week she'd been imprisoned in her room Bulma had began to show signs of cabin fever. She began to talk to her food, telling of her scientific observations to what looked like bread. She'd sit at the table and pick at the meat, pulling the fat away from the bone and separating it into neat piles. On one occasion the female slave had entered to collect her dishes to find that the Chikyuu native had created plate sized model of a plant cell with her uneaten food. After the poor slave's traumatising experience of seeing Bulma like that she ran for the open door, screaming in a guttural language. The poor woman didn't know what hit her, slumping to the ground soundlessly as Bulma ran for her freedom.
Her bare feel slapped noisily against the hard metallic floor of the corridors. Her choice of clothing turned heads as she pounded down the long hall pushing past those in her way. The surroundings were a blur to her eyes; nothing mattered by her freedom. Slap slap, slap slap, the bare soles of her feet echoed in the empty passageway. She'd left all the people behind her in her urge to leave. Slap slap, slap slap, she rounded a bend, feeling the adrenaline pump through her body, making her feel invincible.
In the blurry darkness her weak eyes could barely make out a door. Skidding to a stop she leaned against a wall, panting hard. Still wheezing slightly she strained her eyes trying to see the inscription on the door. Mentally slapping herself for not being able to read Saiyan, she began to pull on the lever to open the door. It resisted the pull of her weak human muscles adamantly and barred her entrance to the strange room. Intentions firmly set on getting past the obstacle she braced one of her legs against the wall and tugged once more. The door handle squealed in protest and its rusty handle turned from its well-worn place. The fine hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle and bother her; something was up. The bristling hairs on her neck urged her forward; she had to open that door.
Heat played on her back and her legs, making her whirl around the passage she just came from. A bolt of shock winged across her bony features; she'd be caught. She stood with one leg still braced against the wall, limp hand resting on the handle, chest heaving in fright of the vision before her. He stood arrogantly in front of her, muscled arms resting over his torso with a rather choleric expression on his chiselled face. One side of his lips turned up in a ferocious snarl. "I told you, you are mine." Bulma cowered in true horror of the alien man. He reached for her and ensnared her in one of his arms, gathering her around her waist he began to drag her back towards her prison.
Bulma spent days sulking in her room, angry that her escapade had failed and more so at herself for being stuck in the situation she was now. That bastard no longer trusted her, not like he had before but that still wasn't the point. Guards watched her every moment, save for at night when she slept in the same bed as the Prince. The Chikyuu captive was disgusted by the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Vegita but then again she did really have a choice. At night she'd huddle in a corner as far from him as she could. She knew he wasn't interested in her the way most men where interested in women, but it still frightened her to be near him. Something deep down told her that she should be cautious around him; he wasn't all that he seemed to be.
The days following her little breakout attempt were dominated by guards watching her constantly, giving her little, if any privacy. She wore clothing provided to her in the mornings since all her earth clothes had been in her belt. Shoes though were another problem; eventually someone had returned her scuffed up work boots. She'd occupied herself by venturing out of her room and into the rest of the ship, studying the Sayians and taking mental notes. One morning against the protests of her guard she wandered into a hall marked with red lines painted midway up the wall. The Guard wouldn't stop her, she had them all wrapped around her finger, save for that ass Vegita. The lack of female presence on the ship did have its advantages, seeing that the only two Sayian females onboard happened to be lesbians. Curious, she followed the red line to a set of sliding metal doors, boots thudding loudly as she approached.
With a hiss the doors slid open and Bulma's blue eyes played on what seemed to a bridge of some sort. Sayian men were scattered all around the room with Vegita standing in the center. Various screens displayed the Sayian language and directions while a large monitor in front of the prince showed a picture of the earth from orbit. The Chikyuu native gasped audibly; they were in space! When had they taken off? Had she slept right through it? Her sudden intake of breath had pulled the attention of the males to her, along with that of the Prince. In two quick strides he was face to face with her guard, rasping at him in their native language. The Guard bowed his head in shame as Vegita cut him down to size verbally with the rest of the crew looking on. Ki gathered in the Princeís gloved palm and in an instant was streaking towards the poor man who knelt before his Prince. He was gone in a flash, burnt body smoking on the ground, never to return again. The woman's eyes closed too late to protect her from the sight of death.
Vegita turned back to looking at the screen and began calling out commands viciously. The men snapped back to work, ignoring the charred remains on the floor. Sickened, the Chikyuu native turned and vomited in the floor, though nothing came up. Her stomach heaved and her throat constricted in the attempt to ride herself of her morning meal. Carefully standing up she realised slowly exactly what the Sayian Prince was up to; he was preparing to destroy her Home World. "Nooo!!! Please don't!" She ran to the man in command. "I have no use for this pathetic planet, what I need is not here." He spoke evenly and calmly, like this was an everyday task for him.
"What is it you want? I can get it for you. I can get anything" she pleaded. "What I want has been destroyed already. You can't get that." Bulma's mind whirled, "I can get you what you want from Capsule Corporation." The business mode clicked in, "A trade for a trade. I'll give you what you want and you let my people go." It was a risky chance but it was all she could do. "Do not play with me, woman. You can't possibly have what I want." He snarled, his temper rising. She put her hand down her shirt and pulled out the capsule she'd been concealing for weeks in her bra. "You want this? Let my people go and you can have it." He snatched the shiny object out of her fingers and studied it carefully. "Prove to me it is what you say it is and you have a deal." He had a trump card up his sleeve and he was about to lay it on the table.
Bulma pressed her thumb to the black square and tossed the capsule to the ground. Smoke in the shape of a mushroom cloud dissipated and she pointed to the pile of capsules. "There; itís all right there. A deal is a deal, let my people go." She knew well enough that it would take the Saiyans years to crack the security codes on some of the objects, it was a risk she was willing to take to save Chikyuu. The Prince's dark eyes studied the pile of capsules at his feet, "Fine, a deal is a deal. Set a course for home." He turned back to the large monitor.
The ship began to turn away from earth; the stars became blurry as they sped up. "What about me?! I want to go home!" Bulma squealed angrily. The prince turned to her once more, this time with a smile on his cruel features. "I told you your people could go, not you. You are mine." Angry Bulma fumed, questions to his motives jumped in her head.
Her questions peppered his mind, muddling his ability to think straight. The taste of her hatred was in the air, his head fed his senses the flavor of human hatred and incomprehension; it was her doing. He spat on the floor and turned on his heel. She stood in the door, lips set in a grimly firm line with her fingers tightened into fists at her sides. Cyan eyes flashing with hatred and contempt towards him, she wasn't about to let him do this. Ki flaring around him in a blazing flame he stomped towards her, she defiantly stood her ground. He reached out a gloved hand and latched it into her upper arm. Unceremoniously he dragged her from the bridge with astonished soldiers looking on. The Prince dragged her down the corridors to their quarters, ignoring her cries of pain and insults she let loose. With a mere fraction of his strength he tossed her ahead of him. "How dare you! Insolent bitch, I should have known you were to blame for this." Poor Bulma, she didn't see it coming. His hand connected fully on with her cheek. The sound echoed in the empty chamber followed by her body flying across the slippery floor, stopping in a darkened corner. Vegeta snorted and left feeling better that he'd regained his dominance over this spiteful woman.
She sat on the floor, eyes staring blankly ahead, rocking gently back and forth. Arms holding her bruised knees up to her chin with her aqua hair clinging to her as if trying to protect her hurt soul within. Salt laden tears gathered on the floor, they slid down her bruised cheek, tumbling and splattering on the marble under the broken woman. The shivers of fright and emotional hurt worked their way onto Bulma's body; the tears had long since stopped falling but the hurtful mark of the slap remained. Her hands trembled with every movement, eyes darting frantically around the room. Her loud sounding footsteps caused paranoia to well up in her throat. Her feet moved faster, propelling her to her destination.
Steamy water sprung down from the shower, pelting the woman who sat on the bottom of the stall. The heated liquid did nothing to resolve her aching heart, but it did take the shivers and some of the fear from betting assaulted away. Down the drain they flowed, never to be seen or felt again. The control panel beeped its warning; the hot water was running out. Hurting inside, she stumbled out of the shower; cold was the last thing she wanted to be feeling now. Clad in her favorite pyjamas she left the bedroom and entered her precious lab from a side door. Trembling fingers keyed in the security code, knowing full well it couldn't keep him out it. Still, it made her feel a bit better. Blindly fumbling around in the darkness she found what she was searching for, the small cot she'd constructed from her days in the forest. She fell into it and pulled the worn sleeping bag around her for protection.
Sleep that night was different then any of the previous nights aboard the spaceship, Bulma dreamed once more. She was back in the strange dome shaped room, faint white mist drifted around, making her eyes rather useless. "It was not done out of hatred, it was frustration and pain." The voice was back, whispering like the wind in Bulma's ear. "I don't understand." Her blue eyes were rimmed with tears shining in the luminescent light that filled the room. "Itís not his way to be as you are...." The voice began to fade as more mist billowed up in the room. The white clouds began to grow darker sending the dreamer off to oblivious sleep.
* * * * *