Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, its character's or the book "The Marriage Merger" by Jennifer Probst
Summary: Having been burned by relationships before, Bulma Briefs has stayed on her family's businesses, keeping work her main priority. That was until Vegeta Ouji, lured her out of her workaholic lifestyle with an irresistible offer. She shouldn't be trusting him, but his powerful onyx gaze has her rethinking the best use of a conference room, is the riskiest proposition.
"Strange. There're a few extra cars here today. Guess my parents invited some guests to Sunday dinner."
Vegeta linked Bulma's hand within his and winked at her. "Good, maybe there will be even more food to munch on."
She laughed and shook her head. "You are amazing. I've never seen a grown man eat like they've never had real food before. Well besides Goku."
"Goku?"
"He's a childhood friend of mine that I knew since I was sixteen and he was twelve. I was on my way to school on my bike and nearly ran him over since he was wasn't on the sidewalk."
"Humph, what an idiot." Vegeta snorted. "He sounds like someone I knew when I was a child. The kid was a complete clown."
"Goku was a bit of a dense at times, but he was pretty smart. At least when it came to sports." Bulma chuckled lightly at the memory. "After any game he played, he would come over my house and mom would have to make three times the amount of food just to feed him. He always had the stomach of a bottomless pit, we wondered where it all went."
"I could imagine. Your mother's cooking is amazing. The last time I've had good home-cooked food like that was when my mother was alive. Though if your mother keeps feeding me food like that, I'm going to have to hit the gym more often."
"Well it's certainly paying off." Bulma smiled coyly. "I should know, I've seen what you have to offer."
He shot her a smirk. "Well then, perhaps I can show you a bit more of what working out does for me later tonight?" He pulled her a bit closer. "Better yet, we can skip this dinner and we can start a bit early."
"Hmmm, tempting. However, I already told my mom we'd be here and we can't just leave now." She said, reaching the door.
"We can always leave before desert. I assure you I'll give you something sweeter and delectable than whatever your mother made."
She turned back to him, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "Behave Vegeta." She chided him playfully, then opened the door.
"Surprise!" A roar filled the room as the door opened.
Bulma looked inside in pure shock. She couldn't speak as the image before her finally registered. Crowding the room were friends she hadn't seen and talked to in months. Some in years.
Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed her fingers against her mouth. "Oh my God, I don't believe it!" She rushed forward and was immediately clasped in a cocoon of safety and warmth. With laughter, tears, and shouting, she reached out and grabbed onto the first person in her line of sight for a big hug, Krillin.
Krillin laughed heartily and squeezed her back. "We wanted to surprise you! It has been a while since we all saw you and your mom called us and said she wanted to surprise you with a big bash."
Another good friend of hers who she hadn't seen in years, Tien Shinhan, lifted her in his arms and swung her around like she was five years old. "We all took off work just to be here and of course we were going to make it."
"Where's Chiaotzu?" Bulma asked him, noticing that her other friend and Tien's best friend wasn't here.
"He couldn't make it sadly. He's been sick lately and didn't want anyone to catch what he had." Tien said. "Besides, this gave me and Launch a chance to spend some quality time together before the wedding."
"Wedding?" Bulma said shocked.
"Yeah, Bulma." Launch came to stand beside Tien's side. "We've been engaged for five months now and plan to marry sometime by the end of the year."
"So Tien finally manned up huh? Well about time!" Bulma replied.
She chatted until a strange sensation fell over her. Bulma swiveled her head and caught her husband's gaze. He looked uncomfortable at the moment, and was staying as far away from the crowd as possible with his back pressed against the door. Her heart lurched, and she walked back into the foyer to slowly take his hand and link it with her own.
"Everyone, this is Vegeta. My new husband."
Everyone was in total shock at the news. And as each of her friends said her hellos, they asked why she never told anyone she got married and why they weren't invited.
"Looks like the party got started without us, huh?" A new voice came in through the door, having Bulma turning around in shock and happiness.
"Goku!" She left Vegeta's side and went to hug her best friend.
"Hey, Bulma, sorry we're late." Goku replied, cheekily. "But Chi-Chi wouldn't let me leave the house until I looked presentable."
"Is it my fault I want you to look your best and want you to wear something other than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt." Chi-Chi admonished her husband.
"After all these years, you've never changed huh, Goku?" Bulma chuckled. "And how are you Chi-Chi?" She said, turning her attention to her other friend.
"I'm great Bulma." Chi-Chi replied, embracing her in a warm hug. "It's been so long, we haven't seen you in what feels like forever."
"It has been forever." Bulma then noticed the seven year old boy, standing beside Chi-Chi, looking of a mixture between both his parents. "This can't be Gohan right here?" She asked, smiling at him. "Come here little guy!"
Gohan left his mother's side and went into Bulma's arms as she pulled him into a hug. "Goodness, look how much you've grown since I last saw you!"
"He was four the last time you saw him." Chi-Chi replied.
"Yes and I blame my busy schedule for not seeing him earlier." Bulma said. She then Grabbed Vegeta and had him standing by her side. "Anyway, Chi-Chi, Goku, this is—"
"Vegeta?" Goku interrupted, surprised. "Wow, it's been a while buddy!" He said, going over to pat Vegeta on the back, making him move forward with a small groan.
"Kakarot." Vegeta replied back.
"Jeeze, we haven't seen each other since we were children and this is how you greet me?" Goku chuckled, lightly.
"Wait a minute, you two know each other?" Bulma asked, looking between them both.
"Unfortunately." Vegeta grumbled, non to happily.
"Oh don't be that way! We knew each other growing up, went to the same elementary school and everything. Those sure were some good times!"
A smirk graced Vegeta's lips. "Oh really? Was that because during those years whenever we got into a brawl, I would always win."
Goku's smile faded. "Hey, that's not fair Vegeta! Most of those fights were during bad weather and I slipped on some occasions."
"Hmph, sure, use that as your excuse and not the fact that you were a weak little thing." Vegeta chided.
Bulma laughed at their easy camaraderie. Who would've thought that she and Vegeta have known the same person when they were younger? Funny how that worked out. And whatever Vegeta might've said earlier about him, it seems like he and Goku were, and are, still good friends no matter how much time had passed between them.
She took a moment to immerse herself in the crazy chaos of her closest loved ones. She missed Tights, who would've completed the entire circle, but she had an event coming up and was busy preparing for it this week. Bulma made a note to call her so they could at least Skype sometime later.
The hours passed as they drank bottles of good wine, chatted and munched on platters of delicious appetizers. Thick tomato with buffalo mozzarella, Swedish meatballs on Italian crostini's. Plump mushrooms with lumps of crab, salty prosciutto wrapped around sweet, juicy melon. She noticed that Vegeta seemed to relax, having conversations with Goku and, another friend of hers, Piccolo.
Chi-Chi beckoned Bulma from the door and she crossed the room. "What's the matter?"
Chi-Chi gave her a stern look before saying. "Your mom told me that you haven't been cooking in a while."
Bulma bit her lip. "I have a company to run and a restaurant to help manage Chi-Chi. I'm too busy to cook."
Chi-Chi lowered her voice in a hiss. "For being married you have to find the time to at least cook a meal for your husband, Bulma. Why imagine if I never learned how to cook before I married Goku."
"Knowing that he loves to eat, he probably would've left you before you even got hitched." Bulma said, jokingly.
"This is no laughing matter Bulma." Chi-Chi reprimanded her. "Your mother is finishing up on some of the dishes for dinner, why not go in and help her with the pasta dishes, then serve your husband a plate."
Panic fluttered and Bulma's stomach sank fast and low. Panchy had told her and Tights that on her side of the family's tradition, they would cook everything from scratch for each new spouse in the family because it was a sense of intimacy between them. Feeding your husband or wife with your own hand was a way to connect on a deeper level and nourish a connection beyond the physical. Not that Vegeta would know, of course. He'd have no idea if she slid a plate in front of him, but Bulma didn't think she could handle it.
It had been two full weeks since their wedding night and the fragile bond formed then seemed to bloom brighter with each day. They never analyzed their new relationship. Each night, Vegeta took her into bed, made love to her in every way imaginable, and held her through sleep. Black Pearl was taking form with the speed of light, the construction complete and all the details finalized for the unveiling in three months. And because of their schedules, she hadn't had time to cook, but order take-out or they would sit in a restaurant and share a meal when they weren't working overtime. They formed their own routine as a married couple, but none of them looked deeper than that.
"Umm, I don't think this is a good time—"
"Nonsense, Bulma!" Panchy came out, a bowl of salad in her hands. "It's my family's tradition and you will abide by it. Is that clear?" She said, with a bright smile that hid a darker meaning.
Bulma gave a sigh. "Fine, mom. I'll help with the roast." She looked around. "Where's Eighteen?" She asked, tying an apron around her waist.
"Out in the yard with Marron. You know how she is when it comes to cooking."
Bulma shuddered from the last memory she had of Eighteen's last attempt of cooking something for her family. It was probably best she did just stay out of the kitchen.
Within moments, Bulma fell into the motions of her cooking duties. The movements soothed her, and an odd need to excel at making the food she would feed her husband beat inside her. The room fell away, and she lost herself in the task. She heard the mutters of her mom and Chi-Chi, but Bulma never broke her concentration.
They prepared, set the table, laughed, and drank wine during various tasks while thick pots of gravy bubbled up and the smell of garlic and lemons tinged the air. Wooden bowls were placed at each setting, and everyone filed in with groans of approval. The scrape of chairs against the floor rose to her ears. Steam billowed, and Bulma made sure her food was cooked perfectly.
She stood with her plate in her hands. Her hands slipped on the edges, and she chastised herself for being so ridiculous. He wouldn't know. No one would. It was a silly tradition anyway and meant nothing. She set the plate in front of him. "Here you go."
The sudden chatter dimmed. All gazes focused on Vegeta, who stared down at his plate and then back up in pure confusion. Damn them all. Why were they making it meaningful? "What are you all looking at?" He asked.
Panchy gave Bulma the look. The look that prodded her to speak and had forced her to do many things she didn't want to do over the years. Bulma pressed her lips together. Panchy snorted at her daughter's stubbornness and took the reins. "Bulma has made your plate by her own hands. She has done this with the honor of serving you, her husband, for your pleasure."
Heat struck her cheekbones. This was such an archaic tradition. Vegeta was probably dying from being the focus of everyone's attention with no idea how to react. Her nerves fluttered. "It's nothing." She forced a laugh. "Just eat."
She slid into the seat beside him and laid her napkin on her lap. When he didn't say anything, she lifted her lids to sneak a peek.
He stared down at the plate of food in sheer amazement. As if gazing at pure gold, he shifted his glance back and forth, staring with a strange vulnerability and need that called out to her. "You made this for me?" He asked.
Bulma gave a jerky nod.
In silence, he picked up his utensils and cut into the roast, then placed it in his mouth with a reverence that stole her breath and her heart. Vegeta swallowed, then slowly placed his utensils down. In front of all witnesses, he reached over and took her hand in his. The warm strength of his grip settled her nerves and caused a pure joy to flood every crevice of her body.
"Thank you for this gift. It's one the best things I ever ate in my life."
She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Good." She whispered.
Chatter resumed, stories were shared, and Bulma ate. But she knew something had changed between them. Something that couldn't be undone. Something that broke all the rules.
She pushed the thought away and focused on her friends and family.
She cooked for him.
Vegeta ate with a methodical precision as the scene at the table faded to the background. Odd, when she laid the plate in front of him, he sensed something different. Like he'd reverted to an alternate time and place where certain actions masked deep emotions that were experienced but unspoken. His wife had prepared a dish with him solely in mind and served him with a humbleness he didn't deserve. She even looked at him with a banked fire in her eyes that drew him to her like a homing pigeon on a mission.
He never considered food a big deal. Like every mammal on Earth, he ate when he was hungry and stopped when he had his fill. He dined at gourmet restaurants, where culinary chefs had prepared meals on yachts and in endless hotel rooms, and he'd ordered room service for women he slept with.
Since their wedding night, Bulma hadn't prepared anything and neither had he. Both were extremely busy and hadn't had the time to prepare anything. They had shared meals together since being married but today was different. She offered him something of herself, as beautifully as she offered her body to him night after night. And in the way he only knew from his life, he took and took and took, giving her orgasms and pleasure but keeping himself solidly locked behind a wall that crumbled inch by inch with each day that passed.
Confusion and want swamped him in a deadly mixture.
Soon a memory caught, shifted, and dragged him under.
It was dinner. The last one he had with his father and brother. Since his mother died, they hadn't spent much holidays together, however this Thanksgiving was different. His father had taken them out to dinner and his father had told them stories about his childhood, how he started Ouji Enterprises, meeting their mother for the first time, and recalling stories when both Vegeta and Tarble were young boys. That night for the first time since his mother died was filled with laughter and joy. They had become a real family again.
And then it was ripped away from him because of Frieza….
"Vegeta? Are you okay?"
The voice cut through the memory, but it was too late.
Nausea twisted his stomach, and sweat broke out on his skin. He gazed at Bulma with unfocused eyes and knew he had to get out of that room for a minute. "Just have to use the bathroom. Be right back."
He half stumbled out of his chair and shot down the hallway. He locked the bathroom door behind him with shaking fingers, leaning over the toilet as he willed the sickness to go away.
God, even after all these years the pain still got to him.
He ran the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, and took deep, ragged breaths. He was kidding himself. He was playing at a normal life he'd never have. He lost the very people he cared about and because of that he was damaged. He thought he could forget it, but deep down he knew he couldn't. Can't. He ached to give the one person who started making their way into his very being. To give her what she needed, but he'd been numb for so many years, he didn't know how to feel any softer emotions. Especially love. Not anymore.
He needed to get out of here. Gain some space. He'd make an excuse of sickness and go home, think about what to do, run away, get out, and get lost.
He stepped out, and Goku stood before him.
"You okay, Vegeta?" Goku asked, concern lacing his voice.
Vegeta fought a shudder. "Yeah, sure, just ate too fast, you know. Not feeling good. I need to leave."
Sharp onyx eyes that shredded his lies and saw too much pinned him. "I can understand. It's a lot in there." He jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. "Are you still having attacks?"
Vegeta clawed for control not to spring through the door and leave it all behind. "…Yeah. But only if something triggers it."
Goku's eyes lightened a bit in understanding. "I know its hard Vegeta. Believe me, you're not the only one whose lost family. And you shouldn't let their deaths affect you and focus on the happy times you spent with them. I certainly wish I could remember my parents. Yours might've been taken away from you at an important age in your life, but at least you still remember them. You have to fight these demons haunting your past, and focus on what you have right now. Bulma is a wonderful woman and I know that she can help you heal and move on in peace."
Taking in Goku's words, a deep calmness settled over Vegeta and smoothed out the jagged edges. He nodded and clasped him on the shoulder. "For someone who's a clown, you do give good pep talks sometimes."
Goku smiled, chuckling lightly. "I'll take that as your way of saying thank you."
"Think whatever you want." Vegeta said, secretly smiling in gratitude.
He walked with Goku back to the table and took his seat.
Bulma stared at him with a worried look he was beginning to savor. How odd to have a female since his mother care about him and his welfare. "Are you okay?" She whispered.
"Yeah. Now I am." They smiled at each other and the room slammed into vivid neon color. Same type of thing that always happened when his wife walked into a room.
That evening, back at her home, Bulma gazed out the window. Darkness soaked every inch of the night sky. The tiny sliver of moon emitted a weak trickle of light. Crooked tree branches swayed in spooky shadows, and fireflies emitted serving as tiny little stars flashing within the grass. She pressed her cheek to the window pane of glass and wondered what she was going to do.
She was in love with her husband.
The knowledge rose up and mocked everything she'd thought she was. Everything she thought she'd wanted. The rocky, littered path to this moment stunned her. First business. Then sex. She'd been so cocky, believing she could compartmentalize her feelings like a work deal. Somehow, emotion had mixed up with the physical and had snatched away any rational thought. Vegeta was the perfect man not to fall in love with. He offered shocking bodily pleasures, but clearly stated he'd never be hers. He didn't believe in love. Wasn't able to gift that emotion because of fear. He was honest about his limitations. Within two short weeks of marriage, did she expect to change him?
She glimpsed at the man he was hiding behind walls, the walls of his past he refused to share. Bulma thought about the night he'd confessed his past. She knew how difficult it was for him to revisit the nightmares. The precious gift meant more to her than anything. He recognized her broken vulnerability and tried to give her something to ease her. He had an amazing capacity to give, but it was twisted up with so many bad things, he'd learned to run away.
Setting the plate of food in front of him had changed her. In such a simple act of servitude, she realized how much more she wanted from him. How much more she craved to give. She wanted to be the woman he leaned on, laughed with, trusted. Being in the midst of her family, surrounded by relationships that were real, tempted her to reach out for more. Did he want more, too? And if she was finally brave enough to give him the truth, would he reject her?
As long as nothing was spoken aloud, they'd be able to continue. She could still have his companionship and his physical attention on a daily basis. Why screw it up by saying three lousy words? She wasn't as brave when it came to her feelings. Plus her awkward experience with relationships only confirmed her inability to connect with men. Maybe that's why her parents had to force her into this marriage under the guise of business, because they sensed her inward cowardice in regards to love.
Pathetic.
She never heard his footsteps. His hands pressed down over her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. Bulma breathed in his scent, her hands wrapping around his while she clung to what he could give her. His body. Night after night. Some part of him would always belong to her, as much as she belonged to him. He made her say the words before he slipped inside her, words she'd give freely, without sensual torture.
She'd give her husband her very soul if he asked.
The sexual chemistry burned and sizzled between them.
Her body softened, her thighs parting to allow him immediate entrance. She sensed his nakedness, his erection nudged the cleft of her buttocks in demand for more. She waited for the games to begin, the dark twisted world she craved, of dominance and submission, of raw nerves and bared lust.
He turned her slowly, cupped her cheeks, and then took her mouth. His tongue claimed her with slow thrusts that began the dance. She opened and allowed him to tug off her robe. The fabric slid to the floor in a pool of silk. His hands cupped, caressed, but she didn't need any foreplay, the whole evening spent in his company had weaved its own spell. His finger sank into her swollen wetness and dove deep.
Vegeta lifted her without breaking the kiss. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips and with one slow slide, he buried himself inside her.
Home.
She welcomed him, clenching around his shaft. This time, there was no play, no teasing nips or confessions wrung from her lips. There was only the hitch of his breath, the rock of his hips, the strength of his hands, and the sweep of his tongue. She shattered around him, never breaking her grip or the connection, and he spilled his seed inside her without the barrier of a condom, his teeth bruising her tender lips in a primitive masculine claim of possession.
Still inside her, he walked to the bed and eased them down, never breaking contact. The truth hovered on her lips, but she was too afraid to speak. The whisper of her name was the last thing she remembered.
BlueMoon Goddess: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I know it took a while to update this, but I have been very busy with a new job so it's taking a bit of my energy. But it was a pretty good chapter. Goku made his appearance (I'm sure you guys were happy about that), and he even gave Vegeta a little pep talk. Plus, Bulma admitted to herself that she was in love with Vegeta, so it's was certainly worth the wait! Anyway, I should have the next chapter up soon, so look out for it, until next time guys! ^_^
