Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ. And trust me. I am in desperate need of profit.
A/N: Attention all you Ancient History historians. This is by no means accurate. I'm doing wacky things like introducing bronze weapons and probably allowing for a higher level of technology that was present in 2560 BCE. Don't make me google when the chariot was invented. Events, as documented by archeological evidence, are going to be all out of order, and magic and the supernatural are going to play heavily in this fic. That being said, I am trying to stay accurate to the region as far as goods, textiles and trade. As for customs and religion? I won't steer you wrong when it comes to gods, but who really knows what those priests got up to in their big shiny temples. Just think of me as a Hollywood big wig. Just making it up as I go along cause it looks pretty.
Thank you for such a warm and enthusiastic response to this fic. I will try desperately not to disappoint you all.
DeNile
Chapter Two
The air around them popped and all the breath building painfully in Bulma's lungs left her in a long, pressurized gasp. After the total lack of sensation, the sudden bombardment of sight and sound staggered her. She clasped at the strong, protective body wrapped around her. The hot, white glare of light was blinding, making her eyes burn. A subtle, musky scent filled her as she pressed her face into Vegeta's throat to protect her eyes.
His arms tightened around her waist and she felt safe despite the shrieking din of cries that filled the air and a discordant beat that came from beneath them. The ground shook in time with the deep, uneven rumble and would have knocked her to her knees if she hadn't been supported. Fine grains of sand shifted beneath her feet, sliding over her strappy sandals and burnt the delicate skin between her toes.
A shadow fell over them, blocking out the sun. She turned in Vegeta's arms, blinking her raw eyes, bringing her surroundings into focus.
Bulma froze in terror.
A gleaming, black monstrosity reared threateningly in front of them. From her angle all she could see was the creature's underbelly, along with its multi-jointed legs sticking out at sharp, articulated angles from its long segmented body. Mangled bits of bloody flesh danged from sharp thorns sprouting off the stilted legs at piercing downward angles, as if it had stomped through the wilderness searching purposely for wild creatures to impale.
Its smooth, armored scales gleamed like lake water under the full moon and for one heart-stopping moment she could see her horrified reflection in the black glass sheen of its exoskeleton.
There was a loud crack as its serrated pinchers clacked the air above their heads. Bulma shrank away, her entire body trembling with fear, but Vegeta stood behind her with calm certainty. One hand splayed protectively across her belly as he gazed with faint, strategic interest up at the monster.
His composure soothed her nerves, allowing her to see details she had missed in her panic. There were leather braces around the chest and upper legs, attached to wooden leads, but with its tail curled threateningly overhead, she couldn't see what it pulled.
The tail captured her attention entirely. Scorpion, the chaos of her mind screamed. Impossible, the muffled voice of logic insisted. Scorpions did not grow to the size of houses.
As she stood there, struck dumb with horror, its long curved tail swooped overhead, drilling down towards her. The venom sac at the end of the tail was as large as a horse's head and the protruding spike was as long as her arm. The creature wasn't going to poison her. It was going to slam that spike straight through her chest until it pinned her to the ground.
Suddenly she was falling backwards, the bare skin of her shoulder, sliding along Vegeta's naked chest. She landed on the ground with an unladylike grunt, her white skirt flipped up around her thighs, her legs bent and spread as if waiting for her lover.
Bulma could care less, because that two foot long spike was arching down in a deadly strike aimed directly for Vegeta's heart. The black barb struck him with a meaty thwack that was somehow louder than the earthquake rumble that was engulfing them.
The shrill scream that ripped from her throat could have disrupted aircraft. Vegeta shuddered, and with a terrified sob she thought for sure he was going to crumple dead at her feet. Instead he cast her a look over his shoulder that was so full of contempt that her terror instantly dried up under the intensity of her heated annoyance.
Her eyes narrowed and the jerk had the audacity to smirk back at her.
She dropped her gaze to his chest. Instead of impaling him, the scorpion's stinger was barely dinting his rock-hard pectoral. Thick, yellow venom dripped down his chest, sizzling impotently. Bulma scooted away. One drop of the viscous fluid would more than likely kill her dead.
Still looking at her, his head cocked and arrogant, Vegeta wrapped one hand around the stinger to keep it from retracting. His dark gaze dropped to her spread legs and the triangle of white satin between them. The flush that suddenly engulfed her body had nothing to do with the blistering sun overhead. She slammed her legs together, yanking the hemline over her knees.
"Asshole," she hissed.
His full lips curved as if he wanted to say something equally nasty back, and her breath hitched in her chest with excited expectation.
The scorpion, realizing its tail was captured, screamed at a high decibel pitch that had Bulma covering her ears, and Vegeta nearly buckling at the knees.
A weakness, Bulma filed the information away with awe. The undefeatable Saiyan had a weakness. As if hearing her thoughts, his body tightened into deadly lines. He straightened his unhindered arm, his palm perpendicular to his body. Blue arcs of lighting formed in his hand, licking around his fingers, and twining around his thick wrist.
She whipped her head to the side, hiding her eyes in the crook of her arm. Light flared, bright and burning. There was a sound like the crack of lightning, then a rush of electricity in the air that made the fine hairs on her body stand on end. The scorpion's screech was drowned out by a loud boom that rocked her entire body.
Round pellets rained down on her. They were hot, burning where they touched her bare skin. She hissed, trying to shield herself, but her light dress was little protection against the hail of fire.
Head down, she was aware when a shadow loomed over her and the burning touches stopped. Blinking, she looked up expecting to see Vegeta laughing at the clumsy human girl, but all she saw was the wide expanse of his back as he stared out at something she couldn't see. The ground around her was showered with round beads of obsidian until the golden sand looked as black as dead volcano's mouth.
Tentatively she brushed her fingers over them. They quickly cooled and she rolled a few in her hand. They were glassy and smooth to the touch, but everything inside her writhed in revulsion. Bulma was a woman who believed in science above all things, including religion and magic, but she couldn't deny that the remnants of the scorpion felt like pure evil. She dropped them, wringing her hand with disgust.
Curious as to what Vegeta was staring at, she leaned out to look around him. She covered her sagging mouth with a shaking hand. His blast had traveled for miles, leaving a shiny, black trail in its wake. But on either side of the scorch mark was hundreds upon hundreds of monstrous scorpions, each pulling an elaborate chariot sporting pennants of the color of blood. Jackel-headed men, at least ten feet tall stood at the helm of the chariots. The molted brown and black fur of their heads tapered down to smooth gray skin. They had the chest and arms of men, but beneath their yellow, linen loincloths they had the bent, shaggy hindquarters of a canine.
Darting between the stalking legs of the scorpions and racing alongside the chariots were yipping hyenas the size of horses. One their backs rode red-faced baboons, their ivory fangs glinting in the sunlight as they chattered into the din. Fear tightened her belly. It looked as if hell had been released upon the earth.
"Shield your eyes."
With extreme effort she dragged her gaze away from the advancing demonic death army, only to be enraptured by Vegeta. Sinuous serpents of blue lighting were slithering up his body, arcing and snapping at the air. The sharp, tingly taste of ozone settled on her tongue, wild and tumultuous like a summer storm. She was drawn to his strong, aristocratic profile as he lifted his face to the sky. His nose was long and narrow, his brows dark slashes usually set in anger or annoyance. His eyes drifted closed, and his lashes settled on his razor sharp cheeks. They were long and sooty, almost feminine, and the only thing that softened the hardened lines of his face. Even his mouth was as firm and unyielding as the man.
With his palms out, fingers pointed to the ground and his face upturned he looked like he was communing. Perhaps he was. Connecting on a primordial level with the ancient elements of earth and sky and drawing power from nature itself. He looked every inch a warrior king. Deadly and fierce.
Her breath was being ripped from her in small, needy pants. Her pupils constricted from the sun expanded to see every inch of him. Electricity licked all his exposed, golden skin and it was all she could do to clamp down on the irrational jealousy clawing her belly. Holy hell. Was she attracted to him or the raw, sizzling power emanating from him?
Him. Definitely him. He was power.
"Vegeta." Her throat locked up and she couldn't say more. What could she say? Compliments from her would only be met with contempt from him.
He tilted his head, glancing over his shoulder at her. Small storms of blue lightning arched in the depths of his black eyes and all the air in her lungs left her in a rush. He was so beautiful. Powerful, dangerous – untouchable.
"Your eyes, woman."
Was it her imagination or did he say woman as if it were an endearment - a caress of sound against her skin. She shivered. All the energy he was exuding was making her entire body tingle with awareness. Anticipation strummed her insides. She wanted to know what it would be like for him to touch her when he was like this. When all the power he kept wrapped up so tightly on the inside of him was at the surface. Sparking, zapping, electrifying every cell. To feel it flow around her, over her – in her.
Reluctantly, she fell back onto the sand. She wanted to see. Watch as all that power unfurled and whipped out against his enemies. But she was too weak. Inferior compared to his magnificence. She curled around until her forehead was pressed to the hot sand and the moment felt lost. She felt lost.
Lightning cracked overhead and all her feelings of wonderment fled and apprehension rose up. Loud, piercing cries filled the air, accompanied by the shrieking of the scorpions and the yipping of the hyenas. Underneath it all was the soft pelting sound of stone hitting sand.
She whimpered, trying to make herself as small as possible as the visceral, electric representation of power whipped around her. Her knee brushed against something sharp and hard. A rock, she thought, but as her fingers wrapped around the heated metal she realized it was her time dilation device.
Relief whooshed through her. Hunched up on her knees, her forehead pressed to the ground, there was a small space between her and the ground where she could examine the device. Determinedly, she ignored the deadly illuminations of light flashing around her.
As far as she could tell the device was inactive. Bulma didn't have the tools necessary to open the back panel to inspect the power core, but all the displays were dark.
Of course, it was dead! That was the major problem with the device she'd been trying to overcome in her lab. The power core could only hold enough juice for a one-way trip. She had been trying to figure out a way to boost the power when Vegeta arrogantly strolled in and fucked their entire world!
What if the board was fried? The entire electrical system? Was it possible to recharge it? Was there even a large enough power source here? For that matter, where was here?
She was damned smart, but even she needed a basic level of technology to perform her special brand of magic. Technology that wasn't available in the stone-freakin'-age. Kami, where were they? Did she even want to know? Were they even on Earth anymore? Never in her vast and varied schooling had there been any mention of giant scorpions and jackal-men in the archeological record.
Wouldn't it be just like her to invent something that not only allowed travel through time, but to other dimensions? Maybe other worlds. She was a genius. Sometimes she was smarter than even she knew.
Gawd! What if this was the future? She hadn't even thought of that. Ewww, a future filled with giant bugs.
While her mind raced through a multitude of possibilities, she was giving the device a thorough examination. It was definitely drained, but the electrical seemed to be in working order. But without a way to charge the device with the enormous amount of power needed to bend the fabric of time, its only use was as a fancy-dancy calendar.
Fuck! This was so freakin' bad. Like bad on a whole new level of bad that she was used to. Wherever they were, chocolate had better be invented, because Bulma had the sinking feeling that she was going to need it in the months, probably even years to come.
Lost in her misery, she slowly became aware of the deadly stillness in the air. The sun beat down relentlessly on her bare shoulders, baking the sweat back into her skin before it truly escaped her pores. She shifted and the world tilted. At her downward angle, all the blood had rushed to her head. Which, could account for her panic, she excused. Bulma prided herself on being cool and collected while in danger. How else was she supposed to think her way out a crisis when those dumbass men left her on her own? Memories of her abandonment on Namek by Krillian and Gohan rose up in a bitter bile in her stomach.
She shook off the fuzziness, rising to her knees. She blinked at the sea of glistening black spread out as far as the distant horizon.
Decimated. The word rang hollowly in her head. Vegeta had decimated the entire army in less than five minutes. She was both frightened and relieved. Frightened, because Vegeta was hardly stable on a good day. She was more than aware of his murderous tendencies. This casual destruction only highlighted just how dangerous he was. How easy it was for him to take a life. Take her life if he was so inclined.
But it also relieved her. Because no matter how much her logical mind screamed to run screaming, another part of her knew that the safest place on the planet was in Vegeta's shadow. If he decided to lend his protection, then there was nothing that could touch her. And it was clear that wherever they were, the indigenous peoples could not compete with Vegeta's raw power.
The only problem she could foresee was how to become a protectee of Vegeta's. While the man exuded pride and honor, loyalty didn't seem to be a cornerstone of his integrity. He blasted Nappa out of the sky, and as far as Bulma was able to ascertain, they had been companions for nearly Vegeta's entire life.
Bulma clasped the time device close to her chest. It was their only way home. She needed to figure out a way to charge it. And if Vegeta couldn't be relied on to keep her safe while she did that, then she needed to find another protector while she worked.
The ground shifted, and Bulma already recognized the rumble of an approaching army. She whipped around, but all she could see through the watery heat waves in the distance was glints of gold and hints of blue.
Her imagination concocted woman-eating monsters with long fangs and razor claws. Soaring, swooping dragons that breathed fire and wanted to rut on the fair maiden.
Terrified, she scrambled over to Vegeta, wrapping her thin arms around his tree-trunk of a thigh. She had her entire torso pressed to him, her legs sprawled behind her. She looked up, completely unsurprised to find him surveying the battlefield with a scowl stamped on his aristocratic features, while completely ignored the hapless, helpless, defenseless female who'd attached herself to his leg.
Oh, hell. This scenario was right off the front cover of one of those gawd-awful bodice rippers with the dainty, mealy-mouthed, horny tart of a slut and the arrogant alpha male who dominated her for her own good. When the hell did she turn into a damsel? And hello! No one dominated Bulma Briefs.
She popped up off the ground like a demented jack-in-box from some cheesy b-rated horror movie.
"I'm not a horny tart of a slut!" she blurted out.
Vegeta very carefully glanced over his shoulder at her. His blank expression only served to increase her ire.
"Well, I'm not," she defended.
"You are different." He looked at her, so cool, crisp and certain. He didn't need to tell her what was so different about her. She could fill in the blanks. She was a freak of nature and it was his poor luck to be saddled with her.
Bulma's jaw tightened. Forget about the house-sized scorpion demons and their half-man half-jackel masters. Forget they had absolutely no idea where they were. Or for that matter, Bulma thought with a slightly sinking feeling, when they were. And just for a moment forget that they were about three seconds from being ground into paste by the next approaching army of made-for-television monsters.
"I'm not different!" she spat, outraged. "I'm brilliant and beautiful. An absolutely delight to be around. You should be so lucky as to be graced with my presence."
She had been called variations of different her entire life. How many times had the murmur of 'freak' followed behind her? The too smart girl with the oblivious parents who allowed their only child to run around the world at the young age of sixteen completely unsupervised. The weirdo who hung out with other freaks, like three-eyed Tien and monkey-tailed Goku. How many times had she stared at herself in the mirror repeating the mantra that her beauty and wit more than made up for her….quirks?
"My mistake, then."
Was he disappointed? His eyes hooded, he dismissed her, turning back to survey the seething ocean rushing towards them cloaked in churning dust and bright sunlight.
Bulma, however, couldn't take her eyes off Vegeta's back. She couldn't understand what she saw in his eyes. For the first time she wondered if different meant special and what exactly did special mean to Vegeta?