Chapter 5: Warmth

Rating: (T-M) Not for Kids.

Warning: (M) Contains gore, sensitive subjects, and suggestive content.

Pairings: Bulma/Vegeta, etc.

A/N: Considering how mellow things have been for Bulma, with... you know, not seeing torture within the ship or anything, she's acting high and mighty. (As she should, she's very strong). But that's only because Frieza and his close henchmen aren't around.

Think about that for a little second...

[. . .]

"Whatever! Suit yourself! Saiyans are so annoying!" - Bulma.

[. . .]

It had been hours since she'd last seen the prince. Long, torturous hours she was forced to spend within the silent agony of his room. Or, more of a cell, really.

Now laying as comfortably as she could on the soft cot that was his bed, she watched blankly skyward at the ceiling, ignoring the aching rumbles of her stomach and the nagging dull pain around her wrists.

She would trace her eyes on the lines of the boring metal, memorizing the number of screws and material used with each square severed by the placement of each. Thinking, she would gaze, uncertain of how to feel.

This is boring.

She moved her hands that were placed on her stomach in an effort to remove the ache. It didn't work.

Where the hell is he?

The corners of her mouth curved downward and her brows had furrowed together.

I'm starving.

She clenched her hands and made them into fists.

I'm bored.

Her eyes lidded, releasing the crinkle of worry that formed.

I'm tired.

Without her noticing, the letters written on each piece had lightened. Her hands opened, and again, rested on her stomach. She wasn't convinced if it was her hunger, but something was dwindling her.

Often, she would starve because there would be no planets with anything remotely edible. She would go days, at most weeks without food, but it wouldn't affect her too much. After all, she was Saiyan. She made a study of herself on how long she could go without food. Without exploiting tremendous energy, she could go two months. Using energy, two weeks.

But this feeling? The weakened efforts of her arms that now seemed to spread to her legs? It was bothering her. Pain, a lot of it, kept coming back to her wrists, making her arms heavier than they should be.

She could only guess as to why.

Forming a lidded glare, she raised one of her arms to attempt and intimidate the inanimate gadget ensnared on her wrist, unsurprised that it did nothing. Almost as if it was sentient though, she felt another pain course and travel from her wrist to her body, making her wince, if only slightly. Her body felt like it was being sucked, slowly drained of energy.

Two days had passed. And already, her body was going down on her.

It vexed her.

She assumed it was the cuffs doing this. Perhaps that was why the stupid prince put these on her. He was jealous I was just as strong as him!

Her features hardened at the thought.

But he's stronger than you anyway. There was no need.

She softened.

Even so, she couldn't remove the annoyance wrapped on her skin without the proper tools. If she could somehow gather some equipment, maybe she'd stop being so bored and... escape. She eyed the nightstand where the scouter had once been. She drooped and stared back at the ceiling. So much for that...

Sighing, she continued her earlier train of thought. Her mind escalated and reprocessed the events that transpired that led her to where she was now, exhausted.

After leaving the training room, not beaten down but quite infuriatingly impressed, she recalled herself being so annoyed that she had lashed out on the Prince. It seemed like he was leading her somewhere, a different path that was not to his room but somewhere else, and during that time she was silent. That is until he stopped and changed direction when she began yelling at him.

He had done a complete 180 turn, giving her the most heated glance she'd ever seen on him, and she had to move out of the way when he raised his hand and shot a beam right toward her.

She was beyond angry by that point, and she had raised her fist as well, ready to retaliate, right until she heard the choked sound of the same being who had stared at her just earlier, holding a bloody gun and standing with a gaping hole in its chest.

It fell, squelching the floor with a thud. On instinct, she winced at the gore, but her face bore a blankness when she looked at the Prince again, who had now walked past her and back to where they were just coming from.

Silently, she followed, and she expected him to scold her like some child. Instead, they made it back to his room and shoved her in it.

Before he could leave, she complained to him again. This time, he turned and left her with instructions so simple she wanted to beat the living hell out of him.

"You will remain here and do nothing until I return."

It was straightforward, and she would have thought it funny if it was anyone else. But the cold in his eyes... She hated that it was starting to trouble her. Especially after what she saw.

Part of her was unfazed by it. Both his murderous act and the cold in his eyes. She knew with enough practice, she would best him. She had no need to fear him. Assuming that he went as strong as he had with Nappa...

It looked like he wasn't even trying.

She closed her eyes as the pain began to subside.

I'm tired.

She turned her head and opened her sights once more, unhappy to find the metal covering the window.

I'm bored.

She closed her eyes again, deciding to settle on the cot. Again, her stomach made noise.

I'm starving.

She ignored it.

I wonder when he'll decide to show his face again.

And wonder she did until she fell into a deep sleep.

[. . .]

He walked through the halls just as he always did with his chest puffed and pose rigid, pridefully making his way to the onward cell he was planted upon when he was only four years old. Vegeta, shouldering through the annoying creatures without a care in the world, walked angrily back to his quarters, looking normal despite the hidden object in one of his hands. An object that was meant for the female he knew was waiting in his room.

Or, she should be. She better have been. He currently had no patience to deal with any more nuisances for today. He had already been ridiculed by Cui before he made his way back to his so-called room, and he was in no mood to deal with her screeching distresses of his supposed attitude.

He mumbled incomprehensibly to himself. The things he had to deal with to prevent this girl from ceasing to exist... She should be grateful he hadn't left her on that extinct planet to die.

I maybe should have.

His brows furrowed. It would've saved him plenty of trouble. That way, he wouldn't have to be dealing with her. Wasting precious time, used annoyingly on the female. He was a Prince. Her prince! The Saiyan Prince! He should not be dealing with her nasty attitude and her defiance!

He exhaled harshly.

Then again, he should not be dealing with a lot of things.

He clenched the fist he was holding nothing in, bringing it close to his face. It shook with repressed anger, an anger that returned to him over and over at the thought of his people, his planet, gone. All because they were too foolish to listen to Bardock! All because of that bastard Frieza.

He was stuck here. And now that he made that absurd decision to bring her with him, he was stuck with her.

In truth, he had fought with himself. When he picked her up and set her with him in the pod, he had half a mind to toss her back and leave her. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something told him she was important. Perhaps, if he would have discarded the thoughts of her being a Blue Saiyan, a legend that he could have sworn was told by his mother, he wouldn't be irritated as he was.

He'd be resting.

"A descendant."

Vegeta could remember his mother's fierce face when she told him his precious stories of his heritage. Trouble was, he only paid attention to the battles she would tell. Anything else, he considered worthless.

For a brief moment, he cursed his young self for his naivety.

It was information he should have considered. He was far too entranced with his father's prideful stories to even care.

But would his father not have told him about everything else? He only spoke of the legendary...

His frustration tripled.

Nothing made sense. Everything was broken.

And he had to unfortunately deal with what was left.

Just as Frieza had said.

Once a Prince of all Saiyans. Now, the Prince of what remained.

Growling, he stopped in front of his door and almost smashed the machine to put his code in. When the little screen began glowing green, he stomped inside and the door closed behind him, trapping him inside the darkroom where he expected to be badmouthed by the female again.

Except, it was quiet. A silence he thought would have been welcoming, but really was quite the opposite. At first, his anger elevated, thinking she had left. But his demeanor relaxed slightly when he scented her extremely nearby, which meant she was still here just as he had told her to be.

His eyes scanned the room, able to see easily due to his enhanced abilities as a Saiyan, and spotted her laying on his bed. His eyes widened slightly. His. Bed!? No one dared to sleep on his bed. Not even she. He gave her a pass the first time because she was unconscious. But this time? No. She had no right. After putting his scouter beside his bed, he prepared himself to kick the object she was laying in over, but paused.

She was looking right at him. Sleepily, yes, but she was awake.

"Vegeta?" She mumbled, blinking slowly. Vegeta could feel her radiating warmth, and his cold body eased at the sudden welcoming heat of this girl.

Deeply, she stared at him, reading him. He stared back just as intense, confused as to why she had yet to insult him so rudely.

Once again, in the dark, her rich cerulean eyes brightened.

Luminescent...

"What took you so long?" She asked, and sat up, clearly tired. Vegeta suspected that she was too tired to be angry at him. As if she should be, anyway.

Vegeta stepped back, and his tail curled behind him, friskily sensing her warmth he may or may not have craved for years before he had ever met her. "You do not have the privilege to question what I do, whether or not I am present with you. It is none of your concern." He replied coldly.

Shooting him a quick glower, she leaned back. He saw her turn her body and stretch, flexing her feminine physique. It was an anomaly, he thought, as he watched her closely. Female Saiyans had muscle. But she... She looked pathetic. Very girlish.

As if he cared, anyway. "Hey, there's no need to be so grumpy, you know," She yawned, "I was just curious." She shrugged. Then, her body tensed and she began to sniff the air. "Did you bring something?" She asked, and a small smile spread on her face.

"Hn," Vegeta replied, suddenly hating the smile. It... did something. What, he wasn't sure.

Bulma was suddenly extremely close to him. His body began to react to her warmth, and his heart released a tense thud when he felt her place her hands on his arm and shoulder. Her face was by his neck, sniffing him over, and he could see behind her that her tail was swaying slowly, happy as can be.

"You smell nice," She murmured, moving her head to inhale more of his scent, truly unaware of what she was doing. And what she was doing to him.

He stood, still, tempted to blast her head off, feeling incongruous and uncomfortable. It was custom for a Saiyan to greet another with touch or smell, or, he thought. He watched his mother do the same to his father so long ago, and both Nappa and Raditz had his smell recorded in their heads. It was only appropriate, to find each other.

But with her...

She withdrew and looked at his face, dazed. Her eyes sparkled, glossed over in an expression that resembled fondness.

Vegeta was not sure why it felt different.

She suddenly spoke, "You're blushing," She teased, smirking.

It was then that Vegeta pushed her away. "Disgusting, get off me!" He sassed, ruffled up.

Bulma released an exasperated sigh and balanced herself. "Chill out, I was only smelling you. You smell good," She told him truthfully, "Did you go somewhere?"

"That is not something you are allowed to know," He said, still red, disturbed over the fact that he allowed himself even any sort of intimacy from her.

Bulma crossed her arms and glared. "Hey, at least fill me in! I've been waiting here for you for hours." She approached him again, "Don't be such a grumpyass."

Vegeta sneered. "Mind your tongue, female." His tone took in a dangerous edge.

Bulma blinked. Oddly enough, the cold of his eyes did little to waver the warmth within hers. Maybe it was due to the fact that she took note of the puzzled cute look he had when she was smelling him. Interesting... Humming, she squinted her eyes and began to study him.

Vegeta remained motionless as she began to circle him, debating now whether he should let her starve or give her the object in his hands he took ages to get. Just what the hell was she doing now? His head was hurting just trying to think about it. So many things popped into his mind that made him apprehensive, but they all resembled her being close!

It was annoying. He should imagine her trying to kill him bloody. Instead, as his eyes followed her and she stopped in front of him, he thought about all the ways she would attain him.

Bulma stepped into his personal space again, and this time, he stepped back. She smirked. "You brought me something, didn't you?" She asked, noticing a difference in aroma from one of his hands.

Vegeta glared hatefully at her and didn't respond.

She stepped closer to him again. "Did you?" Her tail tickled his crossed arms, slithering tenderly across the fabric of his armor.

Vegeta didn't spare it a glance and only moved away from her again. He knew that grabbing her tail would result in... temptations he was unsure he would bother sharing with her yet.

She, again, approached. And he, again, moved away.

She huffed. "Stop moving," She sassed, and this time her tail managed to tug on his arm.

"Stop getting near me," He returned harshly. "Mindless female. Keep pestering me and you won't get what I brought."

"So it is for me," She gleamed, and Vegeta growled in response. "I knew it," She grabbed her long locks of cerulean hair and tossed it back, "You do care."

Vegeta this time, went up to her face and snarled. "Do not assume even for the slightest of ways that I, Prince Vegeta, care for a weakling hideous female." He felt like crushing the pill just to show her he didn't, "This means nothing."

She felt a vein pulse on her forehead. Truly, this prince was trying to get her riled up on purpose. However... Something different made her rethink. Upon seeing the exasperation on his face, Bulma stopped herself from sending him an onslaught of insults when his scent invaded her nose once more. A pleased hum released from her mouth and her tense form relaxed. In fact, she went closer to get a better whiff.

At this, Vegeta backed off. Immediately. He was in no way shape or form going to interact with her in such a way.

She pouted. "Let me scent you," She whined.

The Prince tilted his head upward and slightly to the side, looking down at her. "Absolutely not." He said. "There is no reason other than to find me to scent me. And I do not want to be followed." He mumbled.

Bulma narrowed her eyes. "Seriously?"

Vegeta said nothing.

She nodded, looking to the side. "Alright... That's fine," She tipped her head forward, "I'll just do this."

Vegeta moved away the moment she jumped on him, missing him barely.

"Ow!" She said, rubbing her head that hit the wall. "What the hell?"

Vegeta smirked at her reaction. "It seems you're still too predictable for your own good."

She growled and turned to jump on him again.

Vegeta merely stepped to the side, and she missed.

"Ugh!" She said, slamming her fists on his cot.

Vegeta, amused, moved his tail. He remained, "Are you finished?"

She dusted herself off and shot a smirk at him, "Hardly. Now stay still!"

Vegeta held back a bark of a laugh when he flew up and saw her hit her face against the wall. Watching her hurt herself like that was entertaining him far too much. Though, it was her stupidity at believing she could get him that was truly tickling him.

Although clearly enjoying himself, his face gave nothing away. So, to Bulma, it looked like he was rudely brushing her off.

Bulma blushed a tad when she turned back to face him, unsure whether to feel angry he did that to her, or happy that she was no longer bored and was getting good intentions from him.

It took her a minute to think, and Vegeta frowned slightly when she stopped. When he met her mischievous gaze, his tail swung once more.

She decided to enjoy this. "I bet you can't get me," She tested and straightened.

Vegeta scoffed. "Is that a challenge, little female?" He asked scornfully, partly offended she would make such a bold claim.

Bulma flipped her long locks of hair from her shoulder and looked at him again, orbs lidding in the dark. "Maybe it is—" She didn't even get to finish her sentence before she felt something slam her against a hard surface. Her eyes widened when she felt the shock of metal come in contact with the back of her head and the sting of something smooth and cold seep into the rest of her.

Something pressed against her body and warmth coated around her wrists that were pinned above her onto the wall, all while the scent of a male Saiyan coated her every sense. Perplexed, she met the Prince's eyes, feeling warm when she saw the look he held hidden within them.

"So," He breathed, relishing her sweet scent of fear mixed with something else, "You lost your little challenge." He murmured, smirking at his victory.

Bulma stared, memorizing his hard features before inclining her head closer to him. Her mind, making war with each other, yelled at her to stop doing what she was doing immediately as the other begged to get closer. It made her sensations overwhelmed, causing her to crave him. She breathed in deeply, finding him almost ravishing, moving to slightly get a better angle on him.

Vegeta noticed her closed eyes and the small vibration she was letting out, and he felt odd and angry all at once. His body had the urge to respond. She seemed almost content to have him this close, and he could not comprehend why his body was reacting much the same. He tried fighting it, remaining still even as he slowly let go of her hands.

Uneasiness coursed through him. She... She seemed to be doing something he often saw his parents do. It was a small ritual his parents had, and he was not sure if anyone else did the same thing since he didn't get to see many couples in the palace. But... It was an attachment he'd see his father do when he felt desperate. Coming close together, relishing in the other's presence.

He felt unwell.

Vegeta wanted to push her away and blast her into ashes. This female was nothing to him. She was but a woman to provide him with satisfaction, nothing more. Nothing. Nothing more, nothing at all.

He wanted to turn away, distance himself as much as possible when she grabbed onto his shoulders and began to push herself on him. He cursed this woman. She was annoying, ungrateful, and...

He felt her hands run down his toned arms.

Fiesty.

The Prince, despite himself, realized he could take advantage of this and detect her anywhere in the ship if he was so willing to if he managed to find her unique scent. It would be a risk, doing this to keep her so close at all given moments. He didn't like it when his mind would keep drifting to her, and having this information within his head would make it worse.

Revenge was all he wanted. He would focus only on that.

He assured himself he would never form a bond with her.

So, in turn, he grabbed her roughly from her wrists with one hand once again and drifted close to memorize her fragrance permanently.

Bulma squirmed under his inspection, shivering when he'd hover his mouth close to her neck and chest. But because she was so busy trying to detect every little thing about his male musk, she did not care that she was getting aroused at all.

They spent this way for a few seconds, trying to find each other. Lost in their own little world that they both did not realize they had allowed to share with each other.

And then they both had recoiled away from one another when they did.

She moved to the side to avoid his body that was trapping her and Vegeta stepped back, glaring.

They stared at each other, one confused and another disgusted, trying to figure out what just occurred.

He smells like fire, She thought, processing. And...

Vegeta let out a growl.

Snapping herself out of her thoughts, she looked at the Prince again, vulnerable. He knew her now. Immediately, she put her hands up in front of her, wary of what he'd do once he figured out she knew him now.

Vegeta's swell of anger tempered only slightly when he saw her form a battle stance, confused. Why was she...?

His scowl deepened then. Is that what she thought? Good. That meant she knew not to drop her guard around him, something he's seen frequently. "Swallow this and stop bothering me," He snarled at her, throwing the object carelessly toward her.

She caught it on instinct, "And this is?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at it in suspicion. "If this is your method of poisoning me, then you've got to do better than that, jackass!"

She gasped, suddenly. Vegeta raised his hand right into her face, and a glowing yellow orb seethed heat threateningly. "I warned you, stupid girl," He rumbled darkly, making her widen her eyes and press against the wall more, "I do not take idly to insults."

Bulma's mouth snapped shut and her abrupt surprise settled into fury. Even so, she made sure to remain quiet, careful not to destroy the little pill.

Vegeta lowered his arm, grunting. "I took some of my precious time away to get you that annoying object," He hissed, "It is a food pill."

Bulma's gaze softened.

"Be grateful, wench, for this is the last time I bring you anything," He stated, bold and clear and seething with bottled anger.

She was unsure of how to feel when he finally walked away toward the restroom after holding that scorched gaze for a few seconds. She could practically feel his rage even from the closed door.

He... got her a pill? To feed her? Willingly?

She reflected.

It didn't...

Something beeped inside the room.

Tense, she looked at the small table next to Vegeta's bed.

Immediately, she locked eyes with the small, red, blinking light of the scouter.

[. . .]

A sinister chuckle resonated within an empty room inside a large ship, millions of miles away settled above a planet.

A rat-like tail moved entertainingly in the dark, settling deep highlights from the open window displaying the sun onto reptilian skin.

Purple lips stretched into a knowing grin, and malicious red eyes followed a wonderful color of blue on the screen.

"Oh my..." The high-pitched vocal of the monster spoke, "It seems..."

The cerulean beauty picked up the scouter, and thin lips grew bigger in a smile as he saw the look of puzzlement on her face.

"That my dear monkey found a stray," He murmured, memorizing the small being in his mind as the screen went black.

In his chair, he turned.

Lord Frieza had the look of righteousness etched into his features.

"It may be time I return."

Another reptile, bearing more humanoid features colored in a nasty aqua, perked up. "My lord?"

"Zarbon," Frieza addressed, scowling at the enriched green planet full of exotic waters, "How long did I say these disgusting gremlins had to get me my fuel?"

Zarbon answered immediately. "Three days, sire."

Frieza hummed.

"I've changed my mind," He said, and looked at the long-haired creature beside him, "Tell them I want my fuel in three hours."

Zarbon nodded, swallowing uneasily at the intense look on its face. "Of course, my lord." Zarbon replied respectfully, bowing.

"And tell them," Frieza continued as Zarbon paused, "That the fate of their little planet dwindles on it."

Departing from the vicinity, Frieza watched Zarbon until the door closed, before glancing at the black screen again.

He could not wait to see his favorite pet.

[. . .]

A/N: So yeah... There's Frieza. Hm... But don't expect him just yet.

Toodles~

Ana.