A/N...Chapter three...discover what's inside that mysterious chest and what Bulma plans to do with it...and will that be enough to persuade the prince. Plus, Vegeta still has no clue of this whole trip will he put the pieces together before Bulma has the chance to ask him? Find out now.

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.

Things will get a bit hot and steamy so viewer's discretion is advised.


It had been years since that chest was opened. Securely tucked in the crook of the room, the dark intricately chiseled coffer burrowed itself in the shadows collecting the dust from years of neglected use. It was a big bulky chest, and the wood was grazed fashionably to make arcane designs. A giant lock hung on the mouth of the chest. Bulma let a smile escape her as she reminisced the first time Vegeta saw the contents in the forbidden box. He played off his shock, shrugging it off; proclaiming the contents in that box did not matter to him. But it did in fact matter. Bulma had welded the box herself. It was a compartment she kept all her toys. It was about two years post the cell battle, when she open the box. Once opening the box, she had beckoned her husband over. Upon seeing the content in the box, his eyes went large and his cheek turned scarlet red. A few items in the wooden crate were foreign to him, but he had enough sense in his mind to know that most if not all the articles in that box were a devious, twisted products of sexual recreation. Bulma held a smug look on her face as her husband looked on in absolute wonder. Noticing her complacent look, he wiped the shock and amazement off his face and replaced it with a neutral, unfazed look.

That memory of that day had dug itself into her memories. It had been one of the most memorable days of her life. Since that day, the box was never touched. The two had outgrown the mediocre toys, they had advanced to a higher plateau of love-making. It seemed that those toys, rather than add more facets and fun, slowed them down. Often serving as a block and annoying piece of plastic digging itself under their skin as they rolled about the bed.

Back then those toys had become disincentives to their fun. Bulma rolled herself off the bed and made her way to the chest. She knelt in front of the box. The nostalgia had kept her grin unwavering. She stretched one of her hands towards the box and brushed away the layers of dust. Underneath the thick layer of dust, manually carved initials of the couples name materialized. A short gasp escaped the heiress. It had been so long that she had completely forgotten that fragment of the memory. She stared at it longingly.

/

Bulma retrieved a short, sharp piece of metal from her tool box, " We can use this to carve our initials." she bent down in front of the box and began etching the letter B against the wood's exterior shell. The scratching sound became a cacophonous, flustering sound to the Prince's sensitive ears.

"What is the purpose of this woman?" He pressed both of hands against his ears, " must we write our initials. It is our property, why would we need to claim ownership of it by writing our names. It will not be robbed from here."

"No, silly" she laughed, "It's not to keep it from being taken. It's to just..." she paused, not knowing how to explain the tradition to her confused husband. "It's just something people on this planet do...usually it's done on trees. It's to mark their love on a territory."

"But I have already marked my territory," Vegeta returned, impatience stirring in his tone. Bulma stopped etching and turn her head to face him. His brows were knit together, and his arms were crossed.

She rolled her eyes, "Not that sort of territorial mark," she said in hushed tones, afraid that the walls had ears. "It's not a bite..." she added, before returning to the letter she was working on. So far the sharp metal serve little to no visible dent to the tough shell of the wood. She huffed and started pressing more force to the metal. Her grip fastened around the metal, and she could feel a small pain rising from her palm from the tight grip. She gave up, and looked up at Vegeta for assistance. He was still confused about the tradition. If human's marked their territory by sketching just one letter of their name onto a wooden object, what was the symbolic weight of it? It hardly seemed as meaningful as a bite. When a saiyan warrior bit his lover, often times near the carotid artery, he left a permanent mark. It symbolized eternal devotion. It is with that bite a saiyan can create that unbreakable bond with their partner. They became life partners that offered the promise of protection, trust, and respect to one another. The bond created by the bite gave the partner's access to each other's thoughts, feelings, and in time of danger, the lovers could sense their woes. What could a scratched piece of pine wood create other than saw dust and poorly scribbled out letters encircled by a lop sided heart. The whole tradition seemed meager to the prince.

With a relenting eye roll the prince grabbed the metal from his wife, he analyzed the now jagged dull end of the metal. "This will serve no use," he flung it across the room. Before Bulma could object, he pointed one finger at the box. She regarded him with a confused look, but when a bright form of light flickered before his index, her eyes widened, and she jumped out of the way. Before too long, a thin line of ki protruded from his finger to the wood. With ease he was able to carve their initials. Bulma pushed on for a heart to frame their initials, but to that, he vehemently protested. Satisfied with the etched letters, Bulma crawled back in front of the box and proceeded to open the lock...

/

That had been years ago, and looking at the initials now pulled at her heart-strings. She never confessed it to her husband, but it meant more than a lot when he himself had etched the letters: albeit it was with her strong encouragement that he finally relented, but the artist of this whole thing was him. She traced an index finger on the letters. Distracted by the reminiscing thoughts, she had forgotten of the plan. She snapped out of her haze and proceeded to unlock the box. She had to jog her mind up a bit for the lock was a combination lock.

Dialing 7-6-6, she pulled open the lock and lifted the lid. There was some resistance from the chest's lid. It had been so long that its been open that its outer design had welded; making a loud eerie creak sound. The content in the box was just as it was years ago. No sign of any disturbance. Bulma felt heat rising to her cheeks, as she searched through it.

She dug her hands deeper into the crate. Something caught her grip, and with a few tugs, she pulled it out. It was a black felt whip; gilded with scarlet red lines. She twirled the object in her hands for a while, inspecting its condition.

"Whoa what is that?" Bulma, with intense speed she didn't know she possessed, stuffed the whip back into the chest and closed it. She turned to her son with a shy smile. She could feel her pulse rising, and with the rising pulse, her face turned a bright red. Trunks scrunched his face at his mother's weird behavior. Something told him his curiosity would only scar him...

His eyes went to the object his mother tried to conceal from his line of view. "Is that a treasure chest!" His voice rose with excitement, "What's in there?"

Bulma slapped a hand on her face, and slid it down slowly pulling her skin down. "Son," she began, regaining a leveled composure, "This is..." her eyes averted from his. Returning her gaze back to her son she continued, "this is a top secret treasure chest." Behind her, her hands were hard at work trying to click the lock back in. Without her sight on the chest, the task proved impossible.

Trunks took a few steps closer. "Whatever it is, I'll find out sooner or later mom." The boy crossed his arms and a smug look appeared on his face. Tiny beads of sweat formed on the heiress's forehead as she thought of her son breaking open the box and discovering the contents inside. Some of the things in there were discreet enough for a 12 years old boy to think nothing of, but there were other things that could traumatize the boy. She couldn't let him have the chance.

"Listen young man," she admonished, "If you go anywhere near this; expect my little promise of keeping your actions from this morning from your father terminated..." She crossed her arm and cocked her head victoriously, "Got it?" Trunks nodded, with fear in his eyes. He deliberated on asking his mother more questions, but from the crazy look on her face the young prince decided to take his leave. After the boy left the room, she collapsed to her knees with a sigh of relief. She reopened the box and continued to search through the box.

Mom is acting so weird. The boy thought as he poured himself some juice. He took the cup and slurped his juice. He narrowed his eyes at the direction of his parents room. He could hear the rustling of objects from the room. He couldn't help but be inquisitive of his mother's secretive behavior. With his grip still around the cup, he squeezed hard as he formed a plan to find more out. The cup under his strength cracked, leaking out a majority of the liquid.

"Damn it," he threw the broken cup away and began to clean his mess. It was then his father appeared through the door... The elder prince was dressed in his casual attire, he had changed into regular clothes after his training from this morning. He regarded his son with a look to which the boy returned a innocent smile.

"Just a spill," the boy defended before his father asked. Vegeta nodded and went down the hall to his room. Trunks stopped cleaning for a second to watch his father enter the room. He knew from when he was in there, his mother had been looking through a chest for something. She had seemed a bit jittery when he questioned her about the box. He wondered if she was still in there looking through. To subdue his curiosity, he decided to follow where the action would soon begin. Neither did he know that whatever would soon erupt from the room would be of no concern for him, and would serve as a potentially traumatic experience.

Vegeta entered the room, hands dipped in his pants pockets, and with his regular hard scowl. Bulma had transitioned from the floor to the end of the bed. She had a familiar look on her face.

"What?" he queried, noticing her long pressing stare. Bulma motioned for him to close the door with just a tilt of her head. Not knowing why she was so seductive with her movements and not one to argue, he complied. Before the prince let the words form in his mouth, the heiress jumped off the bed and pulled him by the arm. He was far stronger than her, and her pull would not have normally affected him, but her touch resonated something. She lured him to the bed and sat him down. She inched herself closer to him, their faces in close proximity. He remained leveled and tried showing little to no weakness to her games, but that became a harder act to hold up when she started to massage the tension off his shoulder. His animal instincts would be to take control of her ruse, and plant her down aggressively on the bed and show her how the game was played, but he knew from her behavior all day, this was just foreplay for deceit. He's known her long enough to know that she wasn't against using her charm to get something. She'd done it when she wanted him to go to the science expo with her. Nothing worst than being stuck in a room with people who think they're Einstein reincarnated. From that incident, he had learned whenever she played the docile card, there was a string attached.

Noticing his indifference, she decided to pull out the big guns. A few years back, it was established that they had outgrown the contents in the crate. But revisiting the past with these toys could serve as something more than foreplay. She decided, right then and there, not to stall. He knew something was up, and she could sense his suspicion from his staggering ability to resist her out-pouring charms. She was wedged between his legs. Her arms looped around his neck, she kissed him on the cheeks. When she felt no resistance from him, she decided to add more force to her kisses. She trailed tiny, shallow kisses up to his ears. Seductively, she began to lick the outer cardinals of his ears. That usually was what did the trick, and as she predicted it did the trick. He brought both his hands to her arms and flipped their positions. Lighting speed, Bulma found herself pinned to the bed, and he was the one on his feet. Like he always did, he took the charge. An alluring grin played on her features, as she cupped her hands on his face. She pulled him in and planted a long soft kiss on his lips. Progressively, the soft kiss transformed into a deeper, stronger, passionate kiss. Re-looping her arms around his neck, she used it to incline her body up from the bed. He used her elevation, and wrapped his strong hands around her revealed back. Under his hands he could feel her back muscles contracting as she tenderly embraced him.

Not the type to stay restricted to just the bed, Vegeta stood back up. Bulma narrowed her eyes sensually at him, and using the bed's bounciness, jumped into her husbands arms. He caught her easily. She looped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles to give her a tighter hold. Before too long, Bulma's back was pinned to the wall. She let out a loud pleased breath. He pinned her hard enough to disturb the portraits that hung. Serving as the fireworks to their moment they fell down simultaneously creating a chorus of broken glass sounds.


A/N... I really hope you guys like it...

Please review! Tell me what you think...I like reading any feedback!

More to come!

Stay tune for Chapter 4!

Silver Orb of Destruction...

Bulma catches the prince off guard and slips in the question, but before doing so, she finds something in the mysterious chest...Not knowing herself how to use the content...something she herself created...this little thing packs a wallop. Find out what it is on the next exciting chapter.