Author’s Note:Finally got around to getting this chapter typed up. I’ll get around to typing up Chapter Six as soon as I get some time between Spring Break assignments and my brother’s hogging up mom’s computer >.< I’m not quite as satisfied with this chapter as I had hoped. I’ll let you all be the judge. Things should be wrapping up by the next couple of chapters.
Acknowledgements: Special arigato to Princess Panchii for betaing!
Warnings: Major Cliffhanger
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Another week had come and gone. Bulma had finally developed a Gravity Chamber prototype that the Saiya-jin Prince could test and not blow up as easy. Except for an occasional grunt of approval or affirmation, little was spoken between the two since that night in the kitchen.
Bulma had yet to make her move partly from wounded pride and partly from fear, fear of making a total baka of herself in front of the Prince. Well, and even bigger baka anyways. She had seen to that herself the week before. Vegeta had been right. Aside from the foolish games she had played with Yaumcha and her other boyfriends, there was little that Bulma knew about sex. She understood the biological workings of procreation but the actual art of sexual pleasure… well she knew how to give real good hand jobs. She had never even French kissed before for Kami’s sake!
"Baka na!" Bulma muttered to herself. Maybe if she asked her mother about it… IIE! Her mother would put two and two together and… "UGH!" Bulma cried punching her pillow. "You’ll have to face the music Bulma girl," Bulma sighed out loud.
Just then her phone rang, but Bulma chose to ignore it. She wasn’t in the mood to chitchat with anyone…
"BULMA DEAR!" Mrs. Briefs yelled from downstairs. "It’s Yaumcha on the phone. He’d like to speak with you."
Least of all Yaumcha, Bulma thought with annoyance.
"I’m not feeling well Okasan… tell him I’ll call him later." Bulma yelled back down to her mother.
"Ok dear," was the muffled response.
"UGH, Yaumcha…" Bulma groused. "Why is he calling of a sudden?" she wondered, her mind still on Vegeta and what had said to her …when you’re ready to be a woman…you know where to find me…
"I am ready to be a woman Vegeta no Ouji," Bulma murmured softly.
A loud and familiar explosion startled Bulma from her reverie.
"BULMA DEAR!" Mrs. Briefs called again from downstairs. "Vegeta has blown up the Gravity Machine again. Would you come down and fix it?"
Tonight, Bulma decided. Tonight the Saiya-jin no Ouji would teach her, Bulma Briefs, about the things that men and woman do to please one another.
With a secret smile Bulma jumped from her bed. "I’ll be right there Okasan!"
Later that evening
He was so close he could feel it in every pore, every fiber, every cell in his being. It was in his blood. He would ascend. He was foretold to be the legendary Super Saiya-jin, the one that would avenge his ravished Empire. …Soon, soon, I will defeat Freeza and the Cold Empire…
Vegeta stepped out of the steaming shower, softly padding into the cool-air Guest room the Briefs had more than graciously allowed him. Bright light filtering in from the lavish French doors illuminated the darkened room.
The moon was full.
Vegeta walked out into the balcony to admire the beautiful light. As an elite, he was free from the opalescent orb’s magnetic pull. He could control his innate Oozaru state.
He flexed and unflexed his strong muscles, preparing his body for his nightly session of meditation. There was something in the air, he thought as he assumed the lotus position. It wasn’t ascension, and it wasn’t the full moon. Not exactly. He found his thoughts straying to the Briefs girl again. There was something peculiar about her mood today, as if she were guarding some special secret.
The corner of Vegeta’s mouth curled. "Silly girl," he thought. There was nothing he couldn’t anticipate from her.
"It’s now or never Bulma," Bulma spoke to her reflection in the mirror as she gave her locks one last brush.
She gently placed the brush back on the vanity, retied the loose knot of her silk robe; the color a rich royal purple that accentuated her lavender hair and blue eyes. With one last sigh and appraisal Bulma padded from her room and into the lions den.
Outside waiting in the shadows, a lone figure looked up at Bulma’s balcony. His obsidian eyes filled with longing and youthful hope. "Bulma," Yaumcha whispered. Stepping out from the shadows, the young bandit began his ascent up the thick vines that led to Bulma’s room.
To Be Continued…
Endnotes: Next time LEMON LEMON LEMON