A/N: I was watching Dragon Ball, and I noticed that Bulma has several guns and uses them all, sometimes on her friends. What if she never gives up that love of firearms? I know jack crap about guns, so I just picked a popular one. Feel free to educate me in a review. This takes place during those three years we all like to speculate about, after Yamcha & Bulma are quits.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Toei and the brilliant Akira Toriyama. I'm just playing with them.
Shooting Fire
"You'll just have to wait! I'm going OUT!" Bulma stomped away, stopping by her room to grab her navy green messenger bag on the way out the door.
Vegeta huffed and crossed his arms, annoyed that the woman was walking away from him and refusing to fix the gravity room. He considered threatening her, but in the past that had ended with her shoving her face into his, throwing him off. He tried to shake his head of the memory that came unbidden, remembering her aqua eyes staring into his, unnerving him.
He had grabbed her shirt then, like he did with the other idiot fighters, but instead of looking fearful like they did, she continued to just glare at him, unafraid. In fact, she had moved closer, brushing her soft body against his. The pleasure his body took in her closeness troubled him, and he stepped back. The blaze of possessiveness threatened to devour his mind at her touch, and he didn't want to know what would happen if it engulfed him.
"You afraid?" she had whispered in his ear, sending involuntary shivers down his spine. She brushed her lips against his ear, and he let go of her in shock. Bulma grinned and skipped away from him, humming happily, leaving him wrestling with his self-control for a good two seconds before he managed to control himself and walk back to his room.
He had taken a long cold shower after that.
Coming back to the present, he thought about his options. He considered just going back outside to train under normal gravity, but what was the use? He was so used to 400G at this point that it was almost useless to train outside. Instead, he decided to sate his curiosity. Whenever she got extremely mad, Bulma took a certain bag and headed out. He decided to follow her this once, just to see where she went.
Bulma was riding her favorite motorbike down the expressway to an empty canyon just outside of town. She enjoyed the wind on her skin, the roar of the engine, and the feeling of freedom that riding gave her. It was a good half an hour outside of the city, so it was close enough that she could just do quick trips, but far enough away that she felt some semblance of peace.
She pulled into her favorite canyon area and unloaded her bag. She activated the target drone she had built for practice, and watched it unfold itself and take off into the air.
"Activate program level 10," she said. She felt like pushing her limits today as she checked her trusty Glock 19. She put her earplugs in and loaded her magazines into her specially designed belt, and filled the pockets of her khaki cargo shorts with a couple extras. She pulled out the shoulder holster, but decided against it. She didn't like the way it chafed her skin when she wore tank tops.
Taking aim at the drone, she began her target practice. Every shot rang through her arms, the feel familiar and thrilling all at once. The targeting drone was set to the highest level, where it would shoot back small stinging lasers, which would also register in the system to give her a status report later. It wasn't that she needed to, but she loved making graphs of her progress. She had gotten much better at shooting and dodging since she started last year, when her and Yamcha's relationship had started to go south. Now that she was single again, she had extra time to practice.
She could feel her stress slip away with each shot she took, each laser she dodged. I know I can't fight like the others, she thought to herself, but if something happens, if the androids win despite the warning, I need to be able to take care of myself. She drove herself onwards for an hour until she was sweaty and exhausted, but she still pushed herself. There won't be time for a break if I'm running for my life, she reasoned. She also didn't want to go back to face Vegeta and fix the gravity room for the fifth time this week.
Bulma didn't know that she had an audience. Vegeta had slowly flown above her, following her out to this hidden location, and watched, fascinated, as she trained with as much effort and focus as any of the other fighters. He was impressed; for being such a weak human with no apparent fighting skills, she had a surprising amount of tenacity. But after an hour, she started to slow, her movements more sluggish and clumsy. In the beginning she had been nailing every shot, now it was only every 1 out of 3. Not only that, but she was taking more shots from the drone, which threw her off a little more each time.
Then a bullet went astray and hit the cliff she had been hitting so many times before, and a large chunk of rock slid off the side. She looked up too late, realizing her mistake and tried to dodge, knowing that she wouldn't be fast enough. Shit, I overestimated myself, she thought. Bracing for the impact, she kept running anyway, hoping that maybe she'd dodge it anyway through sheer dumb luck.
She suddenly felt herself lifted into the air, and looking down, the rock crashed down to where she had been. Bulma breathed a sigh of relief, ready to thank whoever had saved her. She had assumed it was Yamcha or Krillin, or even Goku, but to her utter surprise, it was Vegeta.
He had watched the rock start to fall, and without even thinking, he had flown down to grab her out of harm's way. If she were injured, she wouldn't be able to fix the gravity room, he reasoned. But what was with the furious beating of his heart? The adrenaline surge wasn't proportional to the amount of danger or energy he used. He looked down at Bulma, wrapped in his arms with her back to his front. Her blue eyes captured his for a moment too long, and he became incredibly aware of the softness of her body against his. The beating of his heart was still hammering as strong as battle drum, and his eyes began to have a ravenous gleam the longer he held her.
Bulma was shocked, and could only stare at him. Then her pride kicked in.
"I would have been fine!"
"Hmph. You couldn't outrun a turtle."
She bristled and started to retort, but his sharp glare silenced her. She calmed down; he did save her, after all. She could feel his muscles pressing against her back, and wondered idly what it would be like from the front. She quickly shook the thought out of her head. Seriously, this guy? No way. Well, maybe. I don't know anymore. It's been too long since I've been with someone, maybe it's finally getting to me.
He floated them back down to the ground, but he didn't let go right away. She turned her head to face him, but he just pulled her tighter against his chest. His breath tickled her ear, and the way one of his hands was slowly caressing her neck was causing her to panic a little bit because it reminded her of how easily he could snap her neck. He leaned in and inhaled her scent.
"Run," he whispered, and pushed her out of his arms. She stumbled a few steps forward and turned to see him lifting his hand, making a gun gesture.
"Bang," he said. The energy ray shot from his finger past her cheek, grazing it with its heat. Bulma's eyes widened. Then she ran.
He chased her down the canyon. "Shoot me," he growled, barely sounding out of breath as he kept pace with her.
"You're crazy! You want me to shoot at you, as in try to actually hit you?" Bulma asked incredulously, short of breath as she dodged another energy blast from him.
"Not just hit, go for a kill shot. Heart or head. You should be good enough to attempt it."
Bulma shook her head. "I… I can't shoot at a living person." Still shaking her head, she mumbled, "Not again…"
Her words did not go unheard. Now he really wanted to push her to her limits and then shove her over them. He began imagining her as a fighter. Would she be cold & calculating, or heated & passionate? He desperately wanted to know. With a burst of speed he caught up to her and stopped before her.
His appearance in front of Bulma was so sudden that she slammed into Vegeta's chest at full speed, bouncing off him and falling onto her ass on the hard dirt. She registered the pain, but as she looked up she began to get lost in a bad memory, one that she would rather forget forever. The image of an old attacker interposed itself over Vegeta's countenance, and she shivered.
Vegeta's eyebrow raised. Something about her vulnerable position tugged at something inside of him. He walked towards her as she scuttled backwards until her back hit the cliff wall. He crouched down, his arms slamming the wall on either side of Bulma's head. Leaning forward, he watched her blue eyes begin to glaze over. His lips grazed her ear as he took in her now trembling form.
"Fight back," he rasped in her ear. He traced the lightly burned graze on her cheek with a finger. Dipping his head down, he nipped at her neck. Her scent wafted around him, and he watched her muscles move as she swallowed. A growing heat inside threatened to take him over, and he knew he was pushing his own limits. The voracious need he had for her made it hard for him to pull back, to remember why he was doing this.
"Fight or else," he growled in a low tone, almost desperate for her to stop him. If she didn't, he wasn't sure he could stop himself. His finger traced down her neck, then to her collarbone. He reached the soft cotton of her tank top and began to slide it down her shoulder, the fabric stretching, pulling on her skin. He kept tugging it down, watching her reaction. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't as his possessive nature started to assert itself. He wanted her to fight back. He wanted her to surrender to him. He wanted everything from her.
The sound of threads snapping punctuated the air as he kept pulling, never taking his eyes off of hers.
Something in Bulma's mind snapped with the threads. Her eyes were still glassy but became strangely focused, like she was seeing something different. The gun that she had been clutching tightly in her hand suddenly appeared in front of Vegeta's forehead, and he moved his head as she fired, the bullet grazing his cheek, a sliver of blood flowing down his face.
Silence.
And then her delicate eyebrows furrowed. Vegeta jumped back as she fired three more shots. He watched her stand up, a ruthless look in her eyes. This was the most interesting thing he had seen from her yet, and he felt something like the excitement before a battle flowing through him. He also simultaneously felt relieved that she had stopped him, and disappointment for the same reason.
"Come get me, human."
Raising her gun, Bulma charged, shooting with incredible accuracy. A small part of her mind was screaming, locked in a bad memory, while the rest of her body just reacted. Survival, her body said. Surviving meant being the last one left alive. She mechanically switched out the magazine when her bullets ran out and kept shooting.
Vegeta dodged, caught, and blasted the storm of bullets that came from the fiery war maiden. He had never wanted to possess something so much as he did at that moment. The cold fire in her eyes made her beautiful to him, like a battle goddess. Shooting small energy rays at her, he watched as she gracefully dodged each one, shooting back with a cold, calculating accuracy. But this time her shots went wide, and he scoffed.
"What, too tired to aim properly-"
His taunt was halted as he turned around to see the rocks fall towards him. He quickly dodged out of the way, surprised by her ingenuity. Then he looked down to see what she would do, and was shocked to see her staring at the rocks blankly, not moving out of the way.
"Idiot!" Snarling, he flew back to her, tackling her to the ground as the rocks came down on both of them.
When the dust had settled, Vegeta lifted himself up on his forearms, looking down at a blank stare from unfocused blue eyes. He could feel her soft body breathing shallow breaths underneath his, and he sat up, lifting her up with him. She sat in his lap almost like a porcelain doll, and he shook her. He recognized that look in her eyes; he had seen it often enough in new soldiers to know the look immediately.
"Bulma," he said in a much gentler tone than he knew he was capable of.
She blinked. Slowly she turned to look at him. Tears started to form in her eyes, but she didn't cry. She just stared at him. He started to rub her back absentmindedly in a comforting manner. Vegeta couldn't stand this faraway, hurt look. He wanted the fire in her eyes back. When did her pain start to bother him so much?
"What… what did I do this time?"
Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her, and answered her question with another. "This time?"
Bulma looked down and stared at the gun in her hands. Throughout everything, she had gripped it like a lifeline. "The last time I blanked out like this… I came out of it with blood on the walls, on my clothes, on my hands, and two dead bodies in the room with me."
Vegeta just kept silent, watching her face, feeling her tension wind tighter in her body. He kept his arms around her, idly rubbing circles around her shoulders.
"I… I was kidnapped. Rich daughters are perfect ransom bait," she said, barely a whisper. "My parents were out on holiday, so they didn't get the call for three days. The first two days were just annoying, but on the third day, one of the kidnappers left, the one who had been holding the other back from his… baser desires."
Bulma swallowed, but continued. "He pushed me to the ground. Started to unbuckle his belt, which I recognized had a gun holster on it. After that… I don't know. I came to, and they were dead, and I was covered in blood. I think I had bruises and maybe a broken rib, but I didn't feel it at all. I just… I don't even remember when the second guy came back. I just remember two cops kneeling in front of me, one of them taking my gun, one of them shaking me, saying my name…"
She stopped and covered her face with one hand. One sob, then another, and another, until she was letting out everything in a long overdue catharsis. All the while, Vegeta held her, watching over her quietly.
She finally took a deep breath and gathered herself. Looking at her other hand still gripping the gun, Bulma smiled. She still loved guns; if not for her experience with firearms, she wouldn't have been able to save herself. Then she looked up at Vegeta, and her brain caught up with her. She was sitting in his lap! And on top of that, he was gently rubbing soothing circles on her back! Then she remembered what he had done to push her to that breaking point.
She slapped him.
Vegeta remained stoic. "Feel better?"
Bulma blinked. She was so good at compartmentalizing that she didn't realize that her old memory had been plaguing her for this long. Now that she thought about it, her mind didn't threaten to shut down when she thought about what happened.
"This is the first time I've told anyone this," she said slowly, realizing how deeply this memory had been buried in the recesses of her mind.
"Lucky me," he replied, his tone lighter than normal.
She looked at him and sat in silence, absorbing all that had happened. Vegeta had infuriated her, followed her out here, saved her, pushed her, shot at her, listened to her, comforted her, almost ripped open her tank top- She froze.
"If I hadn't reacted," she asked finally, "would you… would you have…" She trailed off, unable to finish her line of questioning.
"As much as I enjoy your fear, your surrender would be sweeter if you did it willingly," he said. She looked at him to see if he was just being arrogant or perverted, but his serious stare made her heart thud heavily in her chest.
"So… you would have stopped, then."
"I would have stopped," he said, unsure if he was telling the truth or not.
She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Strangely enough, she believed him. She felt it down to her toes; he wouldn't harm her like that. In fact, she was beginning to think that he didn't like seeing her hurt at all. She could guess what had happened by looking around her, and the fact that Vegeta's armor was scuffed around the edges helped her theory. She knew if she asked him, he'd deny saving her again, so she just acted on her feelings.
"Thanks Vegeta," she said, and kissed him on the cheek.
Vegeta suddenly let go of her and got up, looking away. She could have sworn he was blushing, and she smiled. Dusting herself off as she got up, she ran off to get her bag and retrieve her drone. She didn't expect him to follow her, but she turned to see him casually walking towards her. He watched her quietly as she packed her things and slung the messenger bag over her shoulder.
"I'm fine, it's not like another rock is going to fall right now," she said.
"I don't care about that!" he said too quickly. "Just make sure you fix the gravity room," he added in a huff.
Bulma laughed as she climbed on her motorbike. "Right, right. I'll meet you at home." She started the engine up and started off, tearing through the canyon and back onto the main road. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed him flying alongside her, and smiled. Just when she thought he was easy to figure out, he did surprising things like this.
They got home, and Vegeta quickly went to his room and took a cold shower. He wondered how much longer he could contain the dark desire inside before it consumed him. He shuddered, knowing how close he was to just taking her out in the canyon. But he didn't want to force her; that wouldn't be real. He wanted her to belong to him because she wanted to.
My mind has officially turned to shit, he thought as he finished his shower and went to bed.
Meanwhile, Bulma went straight to the gravity room to figure out what was wrong with it. Now that she was calm, she spotted the problem right away and fixed it within the hour.
As she showered off the grime and dirt of GR repairs and the canyon, she reflected on her strange afternoon. She felt like the heavy lock on her bad memory had been smashed, and the memory purged of its poisonous ability to affect her to a debilitating degree. And all because of a tiring, crazy, emotionally heavy afternoon with a psychotic Saiyan. But she saw in his actions a deeper side to him, a side that she wanted to explore and see more of.
Bulma went to bed and dreamed of tan muscles and hard dark eyes that had a surprising hint of gentleness.
A/N: KABE-DON! ^_^
But seriously, I was writing a completely different fic when I started. Then about halfway through my focus changed, and it became this darker thing. So if it seems a little disjointed, that's why. A lemon sequel may happen if people ask for it. Also I hate the title, but I don't have a better idea… Please review! I can only get better when I get new perspectives.
