Reflections by Moonlight
by C.S. Hayden
All characters are the property of Akira Toriyama, DragonBall Z and Toei Animation.
Everything is tinted blue in the pale moonlight that fills the room - everything except the bright glow of the gold ring on my wife's finger. I can see it as her hand rises and falls on my chest, just where she put it when she curled up against my side like an exotic cat. It's the eyes - those cool blue crystal eyes of hers - that always make me think that she was a Siamese cat in another life. I smile and turn to nuzzle her forehead, remembering the other things she did this evening that made me want to purr with delight.
After all, this is our honeymoon.
We hadn't really expected to have one at all. Eighteen and I had spent most of our money (okay, MY money saved from various tournaments over the years) to fix up the house so we had planned on a quiet ceremony with our friends and then simply shutting the world out for a week or two while we got 're-acquainted.' Eighteen had got the idea out of one of the bridal magazines that Bulma had lent her. It had this article about how we should try 'abstaining' a few weeks right before the wedding to achieve the proper mood for the honeymoon. Her solution was to banish me back to the Kame House - this after we'd finally started sleeping together and I was really getting used to recreational sex.
Oolong summed it up in his usual tactful style: "Geez, Krillin - Eighteen won't need anything blue - your balls will be blue enough for the both of you." (Well, it wasn't quite THAT bad - but I'll admit to getting pretty anxious by the time the big day arrived.)
The ceremony went really well - what little of it I remember. I remember saying my vows and hearing the priest's voice but mostly I was lost in her eyes. There are things that Eighteen only tells me with her eyes and what she was telling me as the priest droned on had me totally mesmerized. It took one long breathtaking kiss to break the spell.
We really lucked out - when Yamcha stood up to make his speech as best man, he offered us the use of the Taitans' condo at the Five Islands resort. It seems that's one of the perks of being general manager of a professional baseball team. He even loaned us his new jet car, which really surprised me. Yamcha loves his vehicles - if you've ever gone out to his place in the desert, the first thing you'll notice that the underground garage is several times bigger than his actual living space.
That's why I wasn't surprised when he and Puar took me out for a brief jet car tutorial while Bulma was helping Eighteen pack. I didn't do too badly although it was a little strange getting driving tips from a flying cat. Yamcha pointed out the auto pilot and winked as he explained how useful it would be during the long stretch of open ocean we had to cross. He didn't need to go any further than that - I was already thinking of the fun ways Eighteen and I could spend the time.
Puar chose that moment to ask in all innocence, "Why?" She was a little miffed when Yamcha and I just looked at each other and started laughing.
The trip to the resort passed in a hormone-soaked blur. I forget who decided to seduce whom first but it made for a fabulous beginning to our honeymoon. We paused briefly when room service showed up - an exquisite meal ordered by Bulma - but otherwise it was like our first time all over again. We made love until Eighteen collapsed across my chest and I couldn't move a muscle.
A low rumble of thunder far out to sea makes Eighteen snuggle closer to me in her sleep. She really hates thunderstorms but she'd never want anyone else to know it. I don't mind - I like seeing her vulnerable side, even if she thinks it's a weakness. Her fingers spread out as she stretches and I hear her breathing pick up.
"...mmm..."
"Shhh." I kiss her forehead. "Go back to sleep."
Her hand slowly drifts over my chest and abs. I love it when she does that - there's something about the low static charge her generator gives off that makes my skin tingle. She'll never know just what it means to have someone willing to touch me. I remember my mother's gentle hands and the soft hush of her voice but after she died, there was no one. Oh, the monks were kind to me and Master Roshi was a substitute father figure and Goku was brother and best friend all rolled into one - but it wasn't the same. Being punched in a fight is nothing like being caressed by someone who loves you.
Lightning flashes low on the horizon like icy fingers. Eighteen flinches and jerks away, scowling through the untidy veil of her hair. She sits up to glare out the window and pulls the covers off both of us.
"It's moving away," I say softly. "Don't worry."
For a few minutes, she sits there and watches the storm. I roll onto my side and just enjoy the shadowed curves of her bare back. Eighteen may disagree but Dr. Gero did one hell of a job on her. The few scars that I've been able to find are so tiny and neat that they're hardly noticeable. Her enhanced skin is less sensitive than a normal human's but he did leave her a few interesting places where all her responses are heightened. Maybe Dr. Gero had some of Master Roshi's inclinations, we'll never know, but it certainly made life pleasant for me.
Finally, she sighs and settles back down, meticulously straightening the sheets around us before laying beside me. Her cat-like eyes flicker over my face. "Have you been awake all this time?" she demands.
"Yeah."
"You're supposed to be exhausted." A ghost of a smile whispers across her lips.
"I'm afraid that I might wake up and find that this is all a dream." I can't help smiling back as I drape my arm over her waist. "It's hard to believe I'm really married to you."
"Believe it." She narrows her eyes as if daring me to make something of it.
I laugh and kiss her scowling forehead. "Yes, dear."
Abruptly, Eighteen rolls away from me under my arm and sweeps her hair off the back of her neck as she spoons up next to me. Her shoulders nestle pleasantly against my chest and my stomach fits neatly into the sweet curve of her back as she threads the fingers of her left hand with mine. Our rings glimmer briefly in the moonlight as she tucks our hands under her chin.
"There," she murmurs softly. "That's better. Sleep now."
Smiling into her hair, I have to marvel at how well she knows me. All that time when we were living at Kame House and I thought I was being so careful watching her, it turned out that she had also been watching me. Maron never really saw past my wallet but Eighteen had been different. Within a few weeks during her stay at the Kame House, she'd picked up on a lot of my quirks, like how I prefer vegetarian food or how I like to sleep curled around a pillow. Maybe that's a hang-up from my early childhood, I don't know, but nothing puts me to sleep better than to drift off with my arms wrapped around the woman that I love.
The sounds of the storm drift away and all I can hear is the light snap of the sheer curtains flapping in the breeze. I can hardly keep my eyes open in the quiet shadows around us but it doesn't matter. Here in this room, half-asleep with my wife in my arms, I feel my world is finally at peace.
This moment alone was worth fighting for.
The End