WARNING: I am not a writer. My preferred form of expression is sketching. Please overlook any errors you find, I won't be posting more than a few of these short little song fics. Blah blah blah - I'm running on - read the little songfic and enjoy. Oh hey, wait. Need to send out a big THANK YOU to my lil sis Unleashed_Soul for beta-ing and well, being my lil sis. You might wanna check out her poetry on Fanfiction.net, damned good stuff!!!
Disclaimer - no - I don't own DBZ nor do I own Stevie Nicks or her hauntingly beautiful song "Beauty and the Beast".
This takes place in those three years leading up to the Androids. Not much of a story I'm afraid, but the beginnings of a relationship we have all come to know and love.
Beauty and the Beast
By: techbaby
aka tech_baby5
She watched him intensely from the balcony
He trained himself in the yard. Surprising her that he wasn't in the gravity machine. He would train brutally all day, then at night he would slip into her room and touch her body and soul with the utmost care. She saw the beauty in his rough exterior. She thought back to just a few weeks prior. She suffered a devastating loss, but also gained the knowledge of the beauty lurking under the rough beast that was Vegeta.
He said and did things to her in the daylight hours that can only be perceived as cold, heartless and evil. From his mouth would come the most scathing of insults about her looks, mind or culture. But underlying all the harsh words, was a curiosity and wonder for how such a small fragile thing such as Bulma could defy him at every turn.
One afternoon he found her dressed all in black grieving for the loss of an old college friend taken from this plane of existence by a mere accident in the stupid transportation mechanisms he so hated. He felt the time was as good as any to pick a fight with her, help her out of her dreary mood. She quietly asked him to leave her be. He persisted. They continued their verbal war until she could no longer take it. She knew he didn't mean the things he said. But he had finally reached her breaking point. She didn't want to fight. She had told him if she was so intolerable to be around or to look at, then he should have enough sense to leave. He was taken back. She never told him to leave before. Then he felt and saw it. He had actually hurt her with his words. He didn't think this little verbal sparring match was different from any of the others. But it was. She was hurting inside. There was only so much pleasure she could derive from the painful arguments. She was only human. She had warned him she didn't want to argue with him that evening. After the funeral, she didn't have the mental or emotional strength. But he did not relent.
She found herself walking into the next room, leaning back against the wall. She couldn't handle the emotions anymore. She slid down the wall; her knees pulled to her chest. She couldn't hold the tears back any longer. She cried. She cried for the loss of her friend. The only real friend she had outside of the Z-fighters. She cried for the beast of a man who she felt couldn't possibly understand how hurtful his words had been at that particular time. She cried for her aching loneliness.
And his. For this man who was a beautifully sculpted beast was so unaware of how to handle his own emotions, let alone hers.
Suddenly she felt his penetrating gaze on her. She prepared to make a hasty retreat to avoid any further humiliation, when suddenly she felt a pair of strong warm arms embrace her.
He had seen her in every conceivable emotional state. But none made so much of an impact on him as when he had seen her grieve. Her sorrow made him want to reach out to her- show her that sorrow was an emotion that he knew, but he wouldn't grieve, he wouldn't show he felt any emotions. But still, he felt this was the only way to show he was sorry.
Touch.
His only outlet for the emotions he would not voice. He gently embraced her. She leaned into his chest, but did not return the embrace. She simply leaned into him and cried her silent tears.
Then she heard him speaking. Speaking in a low growl of a voice, words she didn't understand, yet by the tone, she knew he was offering comfort. Expressing verbally that he was there for her, and that he was sorry. Speaking in his native tongue.
He gently picked her up off the floor and carried her to her bedroom, where he laid her down on her bed and helped her remove her clothes. He made no attempt to seduce her. He was helping her. No thoughts of sex were drifting in either of their minds. He made eye contact with her often, to show he had no ill intent.
Once she was dressed in her nightclothes, he gently pushed her into bed and covered her with the comforter. She rolled on her side, back facing him, and whispered a thank you. She knew with his heightened senses that he had heard her. But he hadn't yet left the room. She closed her eyes to try to keep the fresh onslaught of tears at bay. She was so tired, her body trembled.
Then suddenly the bed depressed in front of her and the strong warm arms where embracing her again. She looked up into his eyes. His eyes told her everything. He needed her. He knew he had crossed the line. He didn't want to leave her. He needed her. Not just to fix his training equipment, but she was the sole person on this planet that matched him in their verbal spars. She was beautiful, smart and fiery.
She alone knew that he derived a sort of pleasure from pain. She tolerated his attitude, even reminding her friends at one time that he was a prince, and was used to getting his way. She had unknowingly defended him. She too was used to being treated as royalty. She was the soul heiress to a major corporation. They may have been from different worlds, but they were so very similar. Now they were in the midst of changing. Changing how they perceived one another, how they felt for one another.
As the week's progressed, their relationship became more intimate, but he made her no promises on the future of the relationship. And she accepted that. She had changed. She only wanted what precious time was offered, and was thankful that she alone watched as her beautiful beast opened just a small part of himself to her.
You're not a stranger to me
And you, well your something to see
You don't even know how to please
You say alot, but you're unaware how to leave
My darling lives in a world that is not like mine
An old child, misunderstood, out of time
Timeless is the creature who is wise
And timeless is the prisoner in disguise
Who is the beauty, who is the beast?
Would you die of grieving when I leave?
Two children too blind to see
I would fall in your shadow I believe
My love is a man who has not been tamed
Oh and my love lives in a world of false pleasure and pain
We come from different worlds, but we are the same
My love
I never doubted your beauty I've changed
I never doubted your beauty I've changed
Changed
There is no beauty without my beast
Who is the beauty, where is my beast
Who is the beauty, where is my beast
My beauty
My beautiful beautiful beautiful beast
Disclaimer - no - I don't own DBZ nor do I own Stevie Nicks or her hauntingly beautiful song "Beauty and the Beast".
This takes place in those three years leading up to the Androids. Not much of a story I'm afraid, but the beginnings of a relationship we have all come to know and love.
Beauty and the Beast
By: techbaby
aka tech_baby5
She watched him intensely from the balcony
He trained himself in the yard. Surprising her that he wasn't in the gravity machine. He would train brutally all day, then at night he would slip into her room and touch her body and soul with the utmost care. She saw the beauty in his rough exterior. She thought back to just a few weeks prior. She suffered a devastating loss, but also gained the knowledge of the beauty lurking under the rough beast that was Vegeta.
He said and did things to her in the daylight hours that can only be perceived as cold, heartless and evil. From his mouth would come the most scathing of insults about her looks, mind or culture. But underlying all the harsh words, was a curiosity and wonder for how such a small fragile thing such as Bulma could defy him at every turn.
One afternoon he found her dressed all in black grieving for the loss of an old college friend taken from this plane of existence by a mere accident in the stupid transportation mechanisms he so hated. He felt the time was as good as any to pick a fight with her, help her out of her dreary mood. She quietly asked him to leave her be. He persisted. They continued their verbal war until she could no longer take it. She knew he didn't mean the things he said. But he had finally reached her breaking point. She didn't want to fight. She had told him if she was so intolerable to be around or to look at, then he should have enough sense to leave. He was taken back. She never told him to leave before. Then he felt and saw it. He had actually hurt her with his words. He didn't think this little verbal sparring match was different from any of the others. But it was. She was hurting inside. There was only so much pleasure she could derive from the painful arguments. She was only human. She had warned him she didn't want to argue with him that evening. After the funeral, she didn't have the mental or emotional strength. But he did not relent.
She found herself walking into the next room, leaning back against the wall. She couldn't handle the emotions anymore. She slid down the wall; her knees pulled to her chest. She couldn't hold the tears back any longer. She cried. She cried for the loss of her friend. The only real friend she had outside of the Z-fighters. She cried for the beast of a man who she felt couldn't possibly understand how hurtful his words had been at that particular time. She cried for her aching loneliness.
And his. For this man who was a beautifully sculpted beast was so unaware of how to handle his own emotions, let alone hers.
Suddenly she felt his penetrating gaze on her. She prepared to make a hasty retreat to avoid any further humiliation, when suddenly she felt a pair of strong warm arms embrace her.
He had seen her in every conceivable emotional state. But none made so much of an impact on him as when he had seen her grieve. Her sorrow made him want to reach out to her- show her that sorrow was an emotion that he knew, but he wouldn't grieve, he wouldn't show he felt any emotions. But still, he felt this was the only way to show he was sorry.
Touch.
His only outlet for the emotions he would not voice. He gently embraced her. She leaned into his chest, but did not return the embrace. She simply leaned into him and cried her silent tears.
Then she heard him speaking. Speaking in a low growl of a voice, words she didn't understand, yet by the tone, she knew he was offering comfort. Expressing verbally that he was there for her, and that he was sorry. Speaking in his native tongue.
He gently picked her up off the floor and carried her to her bedroom, where he laid her down on her bed and helped her remove her clothes. He made no attempt to seduce her. He was helping her. No thoughts of sex were drifting in either of their minds. He made eye contact with her often, to show he had no ill intent.
Once she was dressed in her nightclothes, he gently pushed her into bed and covered her with the comforter. She rolled on her side, back facing him, and whispered a thank you. She knew with his heightened senses that he had heard her. But he hadn't yet left the room. She closed her eyes to try to keep the fresh onslaught of tears at bay. She was so tired, her body trembled.
Then suddenly the bed depressed in front of her and the strong warm arms where embracing her again. She looked up into his eyes. His eyes told her everything. He needed her. He knew he had crossed the line. He didn't want to leave her. He needed her. Not just to fix his training equipment, but she was the sole person on this planet that matched him in their verbal spars. She was beautiful, smart and fiery.
She alone knew that he derived a sort of pleasure from pain. She tolerated his attitude, even reminding her friends at one time that he was a prince, and was used to getting his way. She had unknowingly defended him. She too was used to being treated as royalty. She was the soul heiress to a major corporation. They may have been from different worlds, but they were so very similar. Now they were in the midst of changing. Changing how they perceived one another, how they felt for one another.
As the week's progressed, their relationship became more intimate, but he made her no promises on the future of the relationship. And she accepted that. She had changed. She only wanted what precious time was offered, and was thankful that she alone watched as her beautiful beast opened just a small part of himself to her.
You're not a stranger to me
And you, well your something to see
You don't even know how to please
You say alot, but you're unaware how to leave
My darling lives in a world that is not like mine
An old child, misunderstood, out of time
Timeless is the creature who is wise
And timeless is the prisoner in disguise
Who is the beauty, who is the beast?
Would you die of grieving when I leave?
Two children too blind to see
I would fall in your shadow I believe
My love is a man who has not been tamed
Oh and my love lives in a world of false pleasure and pain
We come from different worlds, but we are the same
My love
I never doubted your beauty I've changed
I never doubted your beauty I've changed
Changed
There is no beauty without my beast
Who is the beauty, where is my beast
Who is the beauty, where is my beast
My beauty
My beautiful beautiful beautiful beast
