Marriage Proposal
Notes
Thank you for your reviews and support!
This is becoming a series of shorts set in the same story line, rather than a structured story with proper chapters.
Please continue to leave reviews.
The following leads on from the previous short and is how I imagine this going down.
Enjoy...
Vegeta stirred on the metal floor and quickly assessed his physical situation and his location with the skill years of training had gifted him.
He was in the gravity pod. The gravity had reverted back to 1g after his loss of consciousness and his body was in bad shape.
He allowed himself a small groan of pain before gritting is teeth and standing, putting his agonising muscle pain to the back of his mind.
He had over done it.
It had been years since he had actually passed out from simple over-exertion, yet here he was doing it again.
And he still wasn't a Super Saiyan.
Vegeta closed his eyes for a moment and let the disappointment and hopelessness wash over him before shaking it off and re-asserting his military mind.
He crossed the room and went out into the yard, the cool night air drying his sweat and refreshing him.
He would try again tomorrow.
Bulma coughed and willed her body to relax. She sat on her heels, the toilet still in front of her within reach, and flushed the contents of her stomach away.
She wiped the tears away from her eyes before more replaced them, falling down her cheeks in flowing streams, betraying her emotions.
She choked back a sob and dry retched again.
"Woman?"
Bulma rested her head on the toilet seat and refused to look at him, her left hand covering her face.
"Woman- do you require assistance?" He asked briskly.
Bulma slowly shook her head, taking soothing breaths and closing her eyes.
Vegeta had continued training every day, ignoring her, as usual, unless he needed something.
The pregnancy was taking its toll on the young woman who had felt something akin to 'hungover' since week four and had spent the last two weeks sick as a dog and confined to bed.
If Vegeta was concerned, he was yet to show it.
She eased open her eyes carefully to find him sitting next to her on the cold laminated floor, his expressionless gaze fixed on the doorframe.
"What-what are you…what do you…?" Bulma struggled to get her words out or figure what she wanted to say. She gave up and looked at him in the hope he had understood.
"I have been frustrated all day and thought it may help me find rest if I were to have relations with you. I would not require long and can wait in the other room until you are finished here…"
His words were said in his usual gruff, formal manner and did not register a meaning for a few seconds.
Bulma sat up and glared directly at the unfeeling oaf next to her.
"Are you…? Did you just ask me for sex?" She spluttered.
Vegeta turned his black eyes on her, his face still expressionless and shrugged.
Bulma felt bile rise up again, but this time, it was in anger rather than nausea.
Vegeta read her face before the yelling started and stood before wordlessly leaving the room.
Vegeta found himself pacing on the balcony, his mind far from calm.
Humans could have multiple life partners if they wished and could breed with whomever caught their eye. What if his woman no longer desired him?
He sat on the railing, his arms crossed and eyes closed in deep thought.
This child she was carrying was his legacy, the half-blooded continuation of his royal genetics. He had become accustomed not only to the human female herself, but the lifestyle in which she allowed him to live: food and water whenever he wanted it, a comfortable bed and training facilities which suited his needs.
He shuddered at the memory of his old life: the nights spent shivering in the open air, ears pricking up at the slightest sound and anxiety setting in. The frequent periods of starvation and pain from constant fighting.
He had served his time in the army, living the tough life of war- now he was enjoying luxury for the first time in his memory.
His thoughts shot to Yamcha, the woman's previous companion.
He had brought beautiful yet dying plants to the woman every weekend and had purchased food to enjoy together, despite there being a full fridge in the compound. Occasionally, the Saiyan had noticed, he had even attempted to win favour by plying her with alcohol: a drink known as 'Champagne'.
Vegeta had considered these mating customs as being ridiculous and foreign, relying instead on reading her body language and being direct.
What if these 'romantic favours' were what the woman wanted though? Would he have to lower himself to that to keep the attention of a human companion?
The Prince growled in annoyance and cursed his own body for creating this mess. He had no desire to humiliate himself by bowing to Earthling nonsense-however he could not ignore the fact that he was outside in the chill of the night rather than pressed against her, sated, in the warmth of her bed.
He opened his eyes as he heard the door opening and watched cautiously as Dr Brief stepped out onto the balcony.
"Cold night, son," The old man observed, pulling out a chair and positioning it near where the soldier was leaning.
Vegeta nodded irritably.
"I was meaning to pass on my congratulations," The scientist continued, lighting a cigarette and sitting down, "I must be going do-lally since I didn't even know you and my daughter were an item!"
Vegeta registered the undertone of disapproval and turned away without answering, his face burning.
He heard the other man let out a chuckle.
Confused, he glanced back, only to find Dr Briefs smiling slightly, looking up at the stars.
Bulma curled up feeling completely exhausted, ready to sleep though her mind was still awake. She kept thinking of her Saiyan lover feeling a combination of guilt and anger.
"The nerve of that guy!" She said to herself, pulling her knees up to her aching stomach.
The door opened and shut behind her, but the threat of another wave of nausea prevented her from rolling over.
"I'm not in the mood, Vegeta, don't bother!" She snapped, guessing who had entered her room.
She felt the bed drop on one side before a strong pair of muscled arms pulled her gently against a large, solid chest.
His breathing was wonderfully slow and rhythmic, his smell so familiar and sweet.
Confused but grateful, she carefully eased her body against his and basked in the warmth of the contact.
Her thoughts filled with nothing but him, she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Bulma woke to a disgusting lurch from her stomach. Her thoughts raced as she embraced the continued misery, running across to her bathroom and retching over the toilet.
To her surprise, she heard Vegeta get out of bed and enter the room. She watched him sit on the edge of the bath.
"Are you sick? You were doing this last night…" He muttered, looking away as she threw up the water she had just sipped.
Bulma crumpled to the floor and gazed at him with watery eyes.
"It's called morning sickness- though I seem to be sick all the damn day… it's a pregnancy symptom. Everyone knows that, how do you not know that?"
"How would I know that?" Vegeta snapped, standing up and walking to the door. He heard her muttering insults at his back and felt the fear of rejection once again.
Under Frieza, Vegeta had worked hard. He was as ruthless as he'd had to be on the field, though the work was often disturbing. However, any display of weakness was the surest way of getting killed in the force and Saiyans were not a popular species.
Feelings of remorse had to be locked away deep down, ignored forever, false arrogance and bravado covering any gaps in his psyche.
Life was so cheap under the tyrant, a stray energy beam could end your miserable life in an instant without warning or you could meet a painful end at the hands of a waiting gang hiding in the shadows.
He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked from the door over his shoulder to Bulma, realising how different his life was turning out now that he was with her. He had a sense of hope and purpose he did not wish to lose.
She was retching again and appeared to be focussed on stopping her body from lurching any more.
"How do humans make relationships permanent?" He asked, a prickly tone to his voice.
Bulma stopped retching and looked behind at him, her face a mask of confusion.
"You mean like, marriage?" She asked.
"What's marriage? Does that tie us together?" He snapped, his patience wearing thin.
Bulma turned her body round on the floor, her delicate silk night slip barely covering her slim form. The man had to fix his eyes on her face to prevent himself being distracted.
"Yes…Promises are exchanged and papers are signed to link the couple together until death…why are you asking?"
The prince nodded. It would make sense that Earthlings would have to contractually tie their mates down to prevent them from running off as their biology allowed.
He needed to trap this woman for his own sake, the threat of her losing interest and raising his child with another male was too infuriating to bare, as well as the fact that he would be unable to mate again.
"Very well. Since we have decided to produce offspring together, it would be prudent to engage in this 'marriage' custom. I want to be secure in my role here and do not wish to share you or your attention with anyone else. In exchange, I will protect you and the infant, as well as assisting you to raise it. Do you agree to my terms?"
Bulma did a double take and stared at him in complete shock.
"I-Did-Did you just ask me to marry you?"
"It's a good offer, I suggest you take it. Think about it, I'm going to train: I've wasted enough time with this nonsense…."
With that, he swiftly exited the room, leaving the bemused woman spluttering on the floor.
