The world around her was absolute chaos, the ground trembling and the surrounding landscape erupting in apocalyptic flames. Bulma coughed as she dragged the body of their most recent foe into the sanctuary of the last remaining intact ship. She knew it was reckless. He was a loose cannon. He was responsible for Yamcha's death. He could kill them all.
Or save them.
She knew they needed someone powerful to make it out alive in the inhospitable galaxy they were in; someone that understood the hierarchy.
"What're you doing?! This is crazy, Bulma!" Krillin yelled from the entrance.
"Help me if you want to get off this goddamn planet! Now's not the time to fucking question me, Krillin!"
"Yep, crazy," he said, but he quickly hauled Vegeta's body over his shoulder and dumping him unceremoniously inside. "I hope you know how to work this thing."
Bulma ran past him and sat at the console, assessing the different controls in a frenzy. "Shit! This is all in a different language. I can't decode this in this amount of time!"
From the corner, Vegeta stirred with a groan. "T-the red control-" He wheezed, clutching his stomach. "On the m-main interface. Cli-ick it-"
Bulma quickly located it and activated it.
"In your seat everyone!"
Without protest, Gohan, Krillin, and Dende strapped into the spare seats beside her. The door to the ship locked and the overhead speaker announced, "Emergency launch sequence initiated in five, four, three, two, one-"
"OH MY GOD!" Bulma screeched at the top of her lungs as the ship took off with such speed that her back slammed into the seat.
The sounds of the destruction of Namek below became increasingly more apparent as they fled.
Krilllin panicked, clutching his head hopelessly. "We-we're not going to make it!"
"Just a few more seconds, goddammit!" She yelled with the last remnants of her fleeting hope, tears of frustration brimming at the corner of her eyes. There was a little ways to go until they were completely beyond the atmosphere.
The ship rocked violently as it was met with strong turbulance.
"Miss Bulma, are you sure?!" Gohan asked and her heart sank for the boy. Chichi would be devastated. But they couldn't give up yet. They still needed to bring the others back and find Goku.
They all cheered when the interface announced their successful escape, but sobered promptly when the endless, alien void of space stared back at them.
That was only the beginning of their upcoming troubles.
(6 months later)
Bulma typed manically at the keys. She had to breach the system and unlock those cells.
From her periphery she noticed a soldier spot her from the other side of the clear, bulletproof wall. Thankfully she had locked herself in by blocking further entry.
A siren call went off.
"There's an intruder inside the security quarters! Neutralize the target!"
Shit.
She needed to hurry. Finally, she came upon the command to open the prison cells, but an authorization identification request came up. From her bag she pulled out the lifted fingerprint of the prison supervisor, hoping the system would be fooled. She scanned the piece of tape.
Her heart pounded violently, trepidation filling her as the seconds dragged.
Then, to her relief, the prison cell doors opened and she saw Gohan, Dende, and Krillin exit through the security footage. Now she just had to get them. But how would she make it past all the guards now?
A bright blue light suddenly caught her attention from her right. When she turned to look, the soldier that had been trying to breach the wall was now limp on the ground. A pool of blood spread around him. The others behind him cowered in fear and ran in the opposite direction.
Her eyes widened as she spotted the source of terror. There Vegeta stood with his arm upraised lethaly.
Suddenly, he turned and his eyes met hers intently.
Why was he here?
He grinned and continued sauntering towards the direction of the retreating soldiers.
Remembering her own objective, she escaped through the back door and ran in the direction of the prisoner barracks.
"Bulma!"
She beamed when she spotted the boys.
"Guys, I busted you out! Let's go!" She urged. Questions could wait for later.
"But, how did you find us? What happened-?" Krillin was cut off by the sound of approaching steps, recoiling when he noticed who it was. "V-vegeta!"
"Can't you idiots keep a low profile and avoid being imprisoned?"
She whipped around, her hand tightening around her gun.
The saiyan laughed.
"Consider me mildly impressed, earth woman," he addressed her with a roguish smirk. "I see you've recovered your worthless friends. Not bad for your first stint alone."
Bulma cocked her gun, pointing it directly at him. "Stay the hell away from them."
"Aren't you overreacting a bit? We left on rather pleasant terms after all, wouldn't you agree?"
Bulma's mind transported her back to that fateful last encounter.
...
They were having a disagreement one evening in the dim light of the spaceship, like many other evenings.
"Now that I know they're alive, I'll be leaving to find Kakarot and Frieza." His mind was made up, his curt comment intended to brook no argument.
"Yeah and what are you going to do once you find them, hm? You're not a super saiyan, asshole."
"That's for me to decide." He crossed his arms, scowling at her.
"I fucking hate you," she seethed. "I should have let you blow up with Namek."
"Nevertheless, you couldn't bring yourself to. Despite your utter contempt for me."
"That's because I'm a better person than you are."
"Are you, really? Then why are you so full of guilt?" He asked in a low voice. "I wonder what a creature that claims superiority has to be remorseful about."
"What?"
"Your actions don't match the words coming out of that pretty mouth."
Her breath caught in her throat, his words reverbrating in her mind.
'Pretty mouth.'
"You know what I think, earth woman? Bulma?" He smirked, unscathed by her remarks, the infuriatingly well-proportioned shape of his Cupid's bow drawing her gaze to his own lips. "I think your hatred isn't so much about me."
She swallowed thickly as he neared her, and not for the first time, noting that he was shirtless. The air around them felt charged, thick and heavy with something simultaneously sinister and delicious.
"Wanna bet, shit face?" She snarled, unable to draw herself away from the hypnotic spell of his dominating presence. It called endlessly to her, a primal urge to both destroy and pounce this beast of a man.
"You despise one thing quite plainly. And that's not being in control. You think I took that from you. But you're mistaken. None of us truly exercise control to the extent that we wish. Not even over our desires." He gazed at her smolderingly, appraising her form from beneath his dark lashes. His nearness was such that she could practically feel the heat radiating off his taut body. "Isn't that why you hate me?"
"It's fine," he whispered, his thumb tracing her cheek. "Continue hating me. I understand your hatred."
She mulled over the promising offer hanging in the air, threatening to forfeit implied rules in their arrangement. But it's been so long...
He brushed her hair behind her ear, his mouth grazing it as he added heatedly, "Hate me passionately."
Catching him off guard, she backed away and smacked him clean across the face. While he remained shocked she dove for his lips, kissing him furiously with all the contempt she could muster. He groaned, returning the gesture.
...
"Is this how you like to get fucked?" He breathed hotly in her ear, thrusting with great urgency. The bed groaned and creaked loudly.
"I don't think I need to remind you that you're being just as fucked, dipshit." For emphasis she reared back against him and he hissed.
"Yet you're on your hands and knees," he growled, his pace unrelenting as his grip tightened on her ass.
She moaned in ecstasy, ashamed at her inability to feel even the slightest sliver of guilt. She felt filthy. "I-I have you on your knees too."
He was a tremendous asshole, but he had a beautiful cock and he knew how to use it.
"I should punish you for all your insolence. But just knowing you're enjoying this; it's satisfying enough."
"Shut the hell up," she panted, reaching up and clawing at his hands. "Shit! Harder!" She cried. Her palm flung at the wall in front of her, holding on for leverage as her whole frame swayed violently. Her nails dug into the sheets and her pussy clenched around the length of him.
"You know how I can tell?" He husked, cupping one hand over her breast and sliding the other alongside her slit. She shivered in delight, loving the sensation of his cock plunging past her nether lips and his slick fingers circling her clit. "You're practically dripping."
Teasing her further, he made direct eye contact with her in the sideview mirror and licked his wet fingers.
She turned defiantly to glare at him over her shoulder, face glistening and chest heaving. "If you're so busy talking-" she gasped with her ever-present banter, watching as he ruthlessly rammed her from behind. "Then you're not fucking me to the best of your ability."
"You're right," he panted, spreading her legs further apart and thrusting so forcefully they both cried out.
...
"Bulma, you mean he helped you get in here?" Krillin glanced nervously at him.
"No." Her eyes narrowed. "Let's get the hell out of here before some other terrible shit happens."
"Really no need to distrust that much," spoke the flame-haired man in question. "I thought you lot would be interested in the fact that I know where they are."
"My dad!?" Exclaimed Gohan.
"Yes, Kakarot and Frieza."
"Why are you telling us this?" Dende asked distrustingly.
Vegeta chuckled. "Are you following the woman's advice or not? More reinforcements will eventually come for your arrest. Frieza 1032 doesn't take kindly to fugitives. They'll make an example of you."
A/N: I've returned from the dead and written this out of the blue. I know I have other stories but I don't exactly dictate my brain's attention span. It just does what it wants. I wrote this because I was stressed out about many other real life things. Please let me know your thoughts.