Everything Went Wrong
Chapter 10
Sometime later, Bulma had managed to relocate both she and the wounded Saiyan into a less open space. She had found a small gorge, surrounded by high rocks that kept them well hidden. A stream lay to their side, one that ran straight through the canyon and miles down the line to join with the Namekian's emerald seas. It was a very nice place to hide away, Bulma decided, a far better scenery then a dank cave and the dead grasslands she was forced to dwell upon while waiting for Kuririn and Gohan. She was very happy to have found it, and even more impressed by herself for finding a way to drag her heavy baggage down here. Her eyes stared at Vegeta's still unconscious form.
The woman huffed and settled herself against one of the shielding rocks. Her eyes stared over her bulging stomach to the Saiyan resting chest down on the blanket she had spread for him. Begrudgingly, Bulma had put the Dragonball back in its previous position under her shirt, the close call she had with him before scared her enough for her to take such precautions. It felt uncomfortable, not that it hadn't before. However, now it was harder to maintain the illusion, seeing as the rip in her shirt made it loose and negated the tight elastic hold her shirt previously had on it.
Bulma sighed as she wiped off some sweat from Vegeta's brow with a towel she had dampened from the brook. She had already removed the melted armor and spandex top from his body and cleaned the infected area as best she could. She had bandaged and wrapped him, doing all she could to help heal the burns. Who knew how quickly his body would heal, he wasn't a human.
Gohan and Kuririn might have thought Bulma had done nothing on the way to planet Namek besides drink beer and sleep, but she had actually been very deep in research. Ever since Raditz had arrived and she had found out Goku was not a human, Bulma had done as much research as she could on Saiyan anatomy and physiology. She was surprised by the many similarities their two species held, yet it would have made sense seeing as it was possible to interbreed with them.
His chest rumbled as a deep grumbling escaped through his mouth. His lips moved to form words, but they were too slurred and deep for her to pick up what he was saying. His face was softer as he slumbered. His fiendish eyebrows were resting contently above his eyelids instead of inching downwards into long furrows of menace. His small mouth was partly open, not jagged and curled into that twisted vengeful frown. His features were well shaped but sharp and his skin was almost an amber bronze under the sun, like someone chiseled them out of the finest metal.
She found her eyes studying him curiously, only then noticing he was a relatively short man. She was sure that it had to do with the air surrounding him, screaming arrogance and danger that made him appear much greater then his appearance first implied. Bulma's brows furrowed slightly when she caught herself looking at him. She had never before noticed how handsome he was. He was always scowling, and his personality made him repulsive in her eyes. But yet when he slept, he looked younger, and not as hostile. Looking upon him now, Bulma would have never guessed he was a killer behind such a handsome face.
In fact, he was a little above just a regular strong-featured man she grew to know on Earth. While they were mostly just plastic smiles and icing-coated endearments, there was something about the way Vegeta held himself, his nature that put him in a league of his very own. His nature was wild and erratic; unfazed by the courtship she was often fancied with at home. He maintained this dark image of himself that she couldn't help but be drawn to, that small part of her teenage years still scratching at the surface of her mind and setting off the alarms of her hormones.
Yes, he was quite a different man, and that was the one thing she would agree upon. Vegeta piqued her curiosity. He was a man of instincts, primal and dangerous. A man of mystery. So unlike the fake men she was used to on earth that treated her like some kind of holy being just because she was beautiful and they could get to her wealth and power. She could read through their phony faces easily. But Vegeta…she bit her lip and traced an idle finger across his jaw. Vegeta was a man of many faces and secrets. She could never read him through his face. He always held that distant, numbing stare that bore nothing. The few glimpses awarded she grasped together desperately. Those small strands of emotion weaved together in her mind like a puzzle, slowly sewing each in its proper place until she completed the odd conundrum that was Vegeta's mind.
She couldn't help her mind's eye as it placed together the correct puzzle pieces. Since she was young she had loved to solve puzzles and reveal mysteries. But Vegeta was the hardest one she had ever encountered, and naturally, her mind would simply not give up the challenge. It did irk her, not being able to turn it off, almost as much about the fact of why he was so hard to figure out to begin with. Most men smiled lovingly at her, bore their souls at the bat of her eyelids, and laid out their emotions like an open book with a sway of her hips, maybe they would even do a trick if she showed a little thigh, Bulma thought sneeringly. But not Vegeta. No, Vegeta hardly seemed to notice she was a woman at all, and she didn't know whether to be insulted or impressed.
The scars that danced across the tanned flesh of his back were a giveaway to such endeavors as his dangerous and horrendous life-styles, possibly giving her the answer to her question if she thought of it hard enough. However, she was sure, by the nasty looks of some of them, not all of them were from battle. Some were too straight and precise, like they were done by a whip. Was it possible Vegeta was tortured?
Bulma shook her head, clearing her thoughts and shuffling them back in order like a drill sergeant blowing a whistle. It would do her no good pondering things about the enemy. He did not deserve her pity and she doubted he would even want it. Besides, she knew that the longer she contemplated such things, the harder it would be for her to simply leave the man where he was so vulnerable. Mentally she slapped herself repeatedly. Why did she even concern herself with muses of this man? Just because he saved her life not once…but twice… Did she think he may have held compassion? Maybe he felt emotions other then hate and revulsion for other living creatures?
It was a nice thought, and the idea of her being the one to cause this morph touched her heart. The image in her mind of her calming the raging beast of a Saiyan and saving Planet Earth appeared before she could catch herself, and she violently shook her head to banish the silly notion. A nice dream yes, but a feat she felt unobtainable.
Her thoughts stopped altogether when there was another grumble from Vegeta. She watched as the once peaceful look on his face plummeted into that darker appeal and his eyes slowly shifted open. Bulma stiffened slightly when his eyes met with hers. A tiny sting of heat shot through her when she stared into his blackened eyes and for a moment, she found herself wondering what they would look like if they stared at her with warmth instead of such bitter coldness.
At first Bulma didn't know what to say, she for sure didn't suspect him to have roused so quickly. He had enough sedatives pumped in him to knock out a horse. Then again, this was a Saiyan she was dealing with, and she cursed herself mentally for not realizing it.
"Where… am I?" He croaked out. His voice was cracked and rough, it fell off his lips in an ungraceful spill of confusion and panic. She watched him painfully shift onto his elbows. Why in gods name he felt he had to fight against such pain was beyond her.
"Where is Ginyu!?" He suddenly blurted. He tried to sit up too quickly and the strain became too much for his still healing back to handle, causing him to toppled back to the ground onto his stomach. "I'll kill him…that bastard…"
"Easy there, tough guy." Bulma said softly, moving her way closer to him. Bulma tried to help him up, only to be pushed rudely away when he settled himself. He rested his head heavily against a boulder, being careful not to let his exposed back make contact. His dark eyes focused on the opposite wall of rocks, his brows, lowering in thought and confusion.
"Why?" It was a simple question, and Bulma guessed it could have meant one of two things.
The scientist shrugged nonchalantly, "I could ask you the same question." Bulma reached into her pocket and retrieved a lighter and her favorite smokes.
Vegeta stared at her in confusion. With the third strike of the lighter, Bulma breathed in the toxic smoke. He was harmless now, Bulma knew. There wasn't any harm he could cause her in his injured state, so there was no reason to be so paranoid anymore. And she really needed a smoke.
"You saved my life back there. Twice. Why?" She finally questioned.
He looked at her, his black eyes contrasting her blue ones and he snorted. "You are of no use to me dead, woman. I still need the Dragonballs."
Bulma fought back a sputter. She should have known it was only for selfish reasons. She felt unbelievably stupid for not realizing it before. Did she honestly think he saved her for some ulterior motive?
"That's the only reason?" She stressed.
He snarled at her. "Why, were you expecting something more?" His face tightened as he sneered at her, that pompous smirk of his reappearing.
Bulma snorted and looked away, refusing to answer. She didn't feel like making a bigger fool of herself by voicing any more of her judgments if they were indeed false, and letting him mock her because of it.
"That doesn't answer my question though." He stated.
"Why I cured your wounds, or why I didn't run away?"
"Both."
"Hn," Bulma sighed and tapped the edge of her cigarette. A snake of ashes fell from it onto the grass below. She watched as it smoldered. "Just call it returning the favor. I hadn't expected for you to arise so early, but it seems that I once again misjudged the endurance of the Saiyan body."
She looked over at him. Vegeta looked like he was struggling to maintain consciousness. She could tell it was painful for him to move and that he was stressing right now to keep his eyes open. She thought she saw Vegeta stiffen slightly. His black eyes dropped to his arm where they saw the tube attached to his arm. He responded with a snarl. "What did you do to me?"
"Don't pull it out, not unless you want to feel the intensity of the pain you should be feeling. And trust me, you really don't." Bulma saw his hand grasp the tube. "Right now I've got you pumped with high doses of hydromorphone." She took another puff. "Which, let me tell you, is hard to give you when unconscious. What's attached to you is a simple IV bag."
Vegeta glared at her coldly, but left the wire still. "Why do I feel so weak? Is it because of this drug?"
Bulma once again smirked. "Why yes it is, Saiyan. Hydromorphone is an opioid analgesic medication. An extremely powerful pain killer if you will. I'm impressed by how much milligrams you sucked up and are still awake." She laughed slightly, "or at least not as baked as the day is long. I would have juiced you up with Morphine, but I didn't want to spoil you."
"Like I care, foolish girl," Vegeta sniffed and looked away.
Bulma frowned at him and glared. "You know, I really can't stand that. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I have to be a total idiot when it comes to science, Wonder Boy! All men seem to oversee my intelligence because of my beauty. I have majored in many sciences including aeronautics and bioengineering, top in my class even! I also did my fair share of medical training too, and being the vice-president of the most powerful cooperation on Planet Earth, I can get my hands on any type of drug on the pharmaceutical market, and then some."
"And yet after all of your 'training' in the medical field you still persist in inhale that toxic weed." His nose curled up as a jet of smoke wafted against his face. He glared pointedly at her. "Isn't that bad for your offspring?"
Bulma shrugged, taking another generous puff from her cigarette. After all, it wasn't like she really had a child to be careful about. "Why do you care?"
He snorted, "I don't. But the stench is horrendous. I have never smelt a more disgusting stick of weed before."
"It's not that bad once you get used to it." Bulma shrugged, enjoying the odd calmness in the air that settled over them. It felt as though they had built a temporary safe house between them, or an unspoken truce. It seemed that while he did not voice thanks, this silent, less aggressive behavior was Vegeta's own unique way of showing his gratitude, even if not intentionally. She in return favored him with a little less hostility. Her tension she had once felt while around him shriveled up and blew away along with insecurity that tasseled around her.
Bulma stubbed out the remaining stump of her cigarette. Taking in a small sigh she laid her head back, becoming brutally aware how close she was sitting next to Vegeta. She turned her head to the side and looked at him. It was her first time seeing his chest bare, seeing as she did most of the work while he was laying on his stomach. Like his back, he festooned battle scars of all shape and sizes. One large one streaked across his pectorals and another across his abs. Her eyes unconsciously traveled up and down his chest, and each time they were noticing the scars less and less. The sun was at just the right point in the sky where it bounced off light onto him, making his thick muscles glimmer under his perspiration.
Bulma found herself biting her lip as impure thoughts suddenly brushed the edges of her mind, compliments of the wild daring side of her teenage years she never got over. She was no virgin to the sights of men with large muscles, but there was something almost forbidden about Vegeta. She knew he was a dangerous man, but his scars seemed to only amplify the fact and make it all the more desirable. Her eyes stared hypnotized at the rhythmic falling and rising of his chest as he breathed. They followed the creases of muscles all the way to his thick corded neck, and up the tapering lines of his face until they came to his eyes.
Bulma felt her stomach drop when she noticed his midnight eyes glaring at her. She realized embarrassingly he had caught her staring. Her cheeks burned red and she quickly turned away, catching his mouth open to call out on her embarrassment. Instead of hearing his humiliating words, she heard the loud grumble of his stomach. Thankful for the diversion, Bulma stood up and went for her capsules.
"I take it that means your hungry, huh?"
He only grunted and watched her as she pulled out the familiar mini fridge and started pulling out large portions of food. It wasn't until an hour later that he finished, cleaning up about eighteen human-size servings of food (which emptied her fridge completely). He didn't talk at all while he ate, not that she expected him to, and Bulma had gone to picking through her matted oily hair and digging at the grime under her nails.
"How long will I be like this?" Vegeta finally asked.
Bulma took a while to come up with the answer. "About a few days, bu…"
"Days?!" He interrupted. "I don't have that much time! Freeza could have collected the Dragonballs by the…"
"If you would have let me finish," Bulma snapped at him, glaring angrily. "As I was trying to say, since you are Saiyan and you heal faster, you might be well enough by tomorrow, no later then forty-eight hours."
Vegeta went back to growling but said nothing.
"I don't know why you are so interested in getting back on your feet anyway," Bulma sighed, "If you're not well enough to fight Freeza, or the Ginyu Force, then there's no hope anyway."
"I need to get the Dragonballs. I need immortality in order to defeat Freeza." Vegeta's fists clenched.
Bulma stared at him in surprise, "That's why you want immortality? To defeat Freeza?"
Vegeta snorted, "Why else?"
"I thought you wanted to take over the universe or some other clichéd bad-guy thing," Bulma shrugged.
"Of course, but I won't need immortality to do that. Defeating Freeza is just the milestone I need before I can worry about such things."
"Then why not just wish to be stronger then Freeza?" Bulma asked.
Vegeta looked at her with a snarl. "I am Vegeta, Saiyan no Ouji. There is no honor in fighting someone with power you did not earn yourself."
"But there's honor in wishing for eternal life?" Bulma rose her brow. "Wouldn't that go against your "Saiyan honor code"? It sounds like cheating if you can't actually lose."
"What would you know of a warrior's code?" Vegeta growled and crossed his arms.
"More then you would think," Bulma smiled as she thought about her friends. "Besides, didn't you once say that fighting is in a Saiyan's blood? How else are you going to get that excitement from a battle if you already know the outcome? Sounds boring."
Vegeta looked at her in surprise, his eyes widened slightly and his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He then smirked and closed his eyes, a rumble of a chuckle passed through his lips.
"I have underestimated your intelligence, female," He chuckled huskily. For some reason, that gruff laugh of his sent chills down her body.
"Perhaps," he said, "perhaps when this is all over, I shall let you live. I will need servants with your intellect in my empire."
"Now wait just a minute--" Bulma stopped herself mid-rant. Her mind replayed his words and a faint blush came across her disbelieved face. Had he just complimented her? He, though diminutively, called her intelligent. Bulma had gotten her fair share of compliments in her life, but she never suspected to get one from Vegeta. The simple matter that it came from him made it all the more powerful, and warmed up a small part of her insides she was involuntarily creating.
She stared at him mouth gaping for what felt like hours, trying to get over the magnitude if his seemingly inadvertent praise. She then smiled and sat back. She wouldn't address the matter, for she knew he would only snappishly take it back and deny the claim. Bulma sighed and glanced back over at Vegeta, and realized he had fallen asleep, probably because of the medication. Most likely dreaming away of killing evil tyrants and domination of the universe. The scary part was, to him, those were good dreams.
Reposted thanks to my reviewer Michelle. I KNEW I shoud have written Hydromorphone, I didn't think oxicontin was IV able, but someone suggested I use a drug someone actually knew about. But whatever. I changed it back to what I originally wrote, nothing else is new about this chapter. Big Thanks to Michelle for pointing this out and making me change it.