AN: Some Gratuitous Language and Situations of an Adult Nature. Not much censoring happened. Too damned lazy.

Chapter 11: Smart and Stupid

Fuck fuck fuck fuck Fuck! Was the mantra running through Vegeta's head as he felt the woman's fingernail score pleasurably through his hair after he'd just exploded in her with all the force of his signature Galic Gun. He should go. He should leave now before things progressed any further. But where? This was his damned room, and the woman was still attached to him like the fucking leach.

Ok. Maybe that was not the entire truth since it was his own cock that was still buried inside her, like the cursed thing had found himself a new home, and his own hand that was tenderly stroking the leg that was still hitched over his hip. And his fucking traitor of a mouth had been nuzzling and tasting at the sweat and sex-slicked skin of her neck like it was his right to do so, never mind the fact that she tasted fucking fantastic to his superior Saiyan senses. Her body gave off so much pheromones it was enough to make him high. He fucked up. He knew. He fucking knew that no good would come from taking the woman to bed, and it wasn't the fact that he liked her as a person, although that added to the problem. It was the fact that his body had been giving him all the indications that, should he take her up on her offer, as he just did, it was not going to be a one and done, like all the other alien whores he'd been with. Oh no. The tingling at the back of his scalp. The fact that, despite the orgasm, his cock hadn't gone down, and now he was tasting her like her sweat was of the sweetest ambrosia. His body was preparing for rutting and breeding. Hence the insistence that she take some sort of contraceptive.

Still stroking and nuzzling, Vegeta tried to think back on what Nappa had said about Saiyan heat. Not that he'd really paid any attention since, for all they knew, all the Saiyan females were dead. Therefore little to no chance that those instincts would be triggered. As far as Vegeta knew, there was no other species in the known and explored galaxies that were compatible to the Saiyans and therefore no reason to retain any information on Saiyan mating habits when the elder Saiyan had become melancholically nostalgic. Vegeta sighed heavily into Bulma's neck, realizing that he knew only enough to identify his current predicament and no more. That he probably isn't going to want to stop screwing for some time. The duration of that time - unknown. Well shit.

A few more minutes. He would indulge in her for just a few more minutes. Then he'll tell her to go. He took a deep, bracing, open mouthed-breath, and got a potent hit of their intermingled sex pheromones as they flowed over his tongue onto the roof of his mouth, the sensation was like a gut punch.

Fuck...

Four hours later, the first rays of sunlight were just peaking over the city-scape horizon, and he was watching Bulma's round breasts bounce up and down through half lidded eyes as she rode him for all she was worth.

Damn. Gods damn it but she was magnificent. Panting and whispering words of praise between breaths. It's been almost five hours and… he couldn't recall the number of orgasms shared between the two of them. He was spent, or nearly so, and she was still fucking going. Vegeta would have thought it impossible that she would be able to keep up much less outlast his stamina. And yet… Damn. Her moans grew louder, more urgent and Vegeta recognized the cadence.

His own excitement ratcheted up as he watched her get ready to lose it once more, pleasure roiling low in his gut, gathering and building like a wave ready to crest, causing his ball to draw in close. When she came, she called out his name, her back arching and her body quivered. He could feel her around him, demanding his release with her quaking body, and could do no more than oblige her body's demands, emptying himself into her with a carnal growl.

She fell forward, collapsing onto him in a near sprawl. Her lips were parted with her heaving breaths. Her face inches from his. He watched as the drop of sweat beaded on the tip of her nose before falling into his, trailing down to mix with his own sweat-slicked skin. Her eyes were dark and hazy with satisfaction, or maybe exhaustion. He ran his calloused palm over her smooth back to cup the back of her head through her thick curly blue tresses that smelled of red berries and tinged with something sharp, like chemicals.

She was so fragile, he thought idly, watching brightness bleed back into those dark blue eyes. He could crush her skull with so little effort. Or twist her neck just so, snapping it with ease. Her eyes were happy now, and her mouth twisted into a sly little grin. Vegeta felt his brows scrunch in a frown. How could the woman be so careless, so open and unafraid, lying in the arms of a murderer like him. Was she insane?

"What now?" she asked, exasperation in her tone. "You got the lay of your life just now Princey. Actually, you've gotten it multiple times tonight. What possible reason could you have for that frown right now? Do you want me to go? Is that it? You can just say so, you know." she continued in a senseless babble. She braced her elbow on the mattress beside him and he felt her attempting to push herself up.

Reflexively, he tightened his hand in her hair, inhibiting further movement and watched her wince when trying to pull away. She stilled, then looked at him. He watched. Waited for the fear to spark as she processed her predicament. He got an amused, almost wry grin instead.

"Well then" she said, eyes twinkling and raised an eyebrow almost suggestively. "Like that, is it?"

Perturbed, Vegeta found himself frowning again, as he said, "You... are a very stupid woman."

The stupid woman grinned at him and said, "Maybe so," then she collapsed against him, her cheek to his sternum and said, "But I'm a very, very smart woman too."

"Hmm," Vegeta grunted, then relaxed the hand in her hair, "That's a paradox"

"Not necessarily. There are, after all, different types of intelligence… book-smart, people-smart, emotional intelligence, which you are very dumb at by the way -"

He snorted, amused.

"Anyway - Ergo, one can be smart and stupid all at the same time." she finished. Then she sighed which turned into a yawn. "I'm pooped. If you're not going to let me up I'm going to stay right here."

Vegeta opened his mouth to object, then found his voice strangely uncooperative. He sighed in exasperation instead, and said "Woman, you have no sense of self-preservation."

"Eh.." she replied and flicked out one hand with nonchalance, "I've always been a bit of a dare-devil. Where's the fun in living if you live your life risk-free?"

He grunted, surprised to find that he actually agreed with her on something. After a few moments spent contemplating the consequences of this most recent development in his relationship with the infuriatingly attractive woman, he felt her body go limp and heard her breaths even out. He was once again completely blown away by how much trust she actually has in him. He left her like that, finding the slow way in which her chest moved on his as she breathed strangely relaxing. Not to mention the fact that she was still wrapped snugly around his semi-hard cock. Then he let his mind wander freely and ended up reliving old battles and coming up with counters and strategies to moves he had been defeated or trapped by in the past. His fingers trailing softly up and down the woman's spine.

He slipped out from underneath her when he felt the rest of the household start stirring. Pulling the bedcovers over the now slumbering Bulma, he headed for the cleansing facilities adjacent to his bedroom, recalling the proper earth-term for it as being an 'en-suite bathroom'. When he returned to his room, towel firmly wrapped around his hips he couldn't help but notice that the woman had moved from the position he left her in, and was now sprawled in a haphazard manner, limbs spread out with the covers twisted this way and that around her body. He grinned in amusement. Shaking his head slightly before heading towards his closet to grab some training shorts and shoes and pulling them on. He followed the scents of cooking towards the kitchen and was not at all surprised to see a cacophony of housebots scurrying around placing every sort of dish on the massive dining table. In the center of this apparent chaos stood the matriarch of the Briefs household in a lime green dress and frilly pink apron with a spatula in her hand.

"Good morning dearie, we're just about done if you'd like to have a seat" Mrs Briefs greeted.

Vegeta grunted in reply before heading towards where the canteen of coffee stood. He poured himself a mug of the dark and bitter, but very aromatic and rich beverage. He'd come to quite enjoy the taste of it in the mornings, and took the seat on the far-left of the table, closest to the exit. There he waited, sipping slowly on the hot drink while the last of the dishes made their way to the breakfast table.

Bra entered the dining area when he was halfway through his fourth serving, wearing a red training shorts and matching top with the Capsule Corp logo printed neatly in the bottom right corner of the tight stretchy fabric. Vegeta couldn't help the cursory glance he sent over her body, noting with approval the definition of strength on her limbs and abdomen, which were currently on display due to the cut of the clothing. For all she looked almost a carbon copy of her mother in features and coloring, she had the body of a female saiyan - lean and defined, deceptively strong, that rippled with muscle when she powered up. Vegeta had seen some photos of Bulma when she was about Bra's age and had noted that his daughter wasn't as 'asset-heavy' for lack of a better description, than her mother had been. For some reason, that notion relieved him, although he couldn't exactly say why.

Remembering one of those photo, in which Bulma stood next to a piece of junk motorcycle in a stained white tight tank top with olive green fatigue pants that had one leg seemingly cut off at the thigh, and a machine gun in one hand, he recalled her voice this morning, stating that she's always been a bit of a dare-devil, and grinned at the thought. He couldn't help but think that he would have liked to have known the reckless, seemingly wild girl in that photo. Then again, he himself was a manic little shit at that age, so he probably would have murdered her on the spot the moment she gave him sass. Oh well , he thought with a fatalistic sigh.

"Good morning" Bra greeted the room, then bounded over towards him, blue ponytail swaying with her steps. He grunted in reply. As if that was her queue, Bra launched into what he referred to 'incessant babbling mode' that started with, "So I was thinking..."

It was early evening, as evidenced by the orange hued light shining through the portholes of the Gravity Chamber, when Vegeta finally decided to give in to the exhaustion threatening to buckle his body and shut down the training sequence. He relaxed his flexed muscles as he felt the weight of the extra gravity drain steadily from the room, the whirring of the graviton core decreasing in volume and pitch as it slowed.

Beside him, the girl dropped down, sprawling out on the floor. Her breathing was even and deep despite the fine mist of sweat covering her skin. He couldn't help but grimace at the sight - at the reminder that, despite her lack of experience, she was still a ways ahead of him in raw power and therefore their training sessions weren't of much benefit to her. It rankled. Not that she was stronger than he was, but that despite what he had told her about her needing to improve her skill level, he couldn't do shit for her in his current state. He needed to get stronger. Needed to bridge the power gap between them. And that meant one thing.

"This isn't working," he finally stated into the silent training space.

She didn't look up at him at his words. Instead, he saw a small crease form between her brows as she frowned momentarily. Then her breath hissed out of her in a heavy sigh.

"I know," she replied.

"I need to get stronger in order to help you improve…" he continued his explanation.

"Yes." she agreed.

"We should train separately from now on," he went on. She remained silent at that, still not looking at him. Instead, her gaze remained fixed on the domed ceiling of the ship as she spoke.

"I think I need to go"

It was his turn to remain silent, a pang of something indescribable echoed in his chest. "I don't… why would you want that? You'll fare much better if you train on your own. Your mother had the training programs tailored specifically to promote improvement, both in the physical sense and for base power levels."

"The training programs were tailored to you. Always have been. You, the other you, was the one that that, in turn, trained me."

Her words grated on him, so did her continued attempts at forcing the familial bond she had with the other him. "You keep mistaking me for your true father, Brat. Stop that. I am not him." he spat, his irritation clear.

"You will be," she bit back, unperturbed.

"I highly doubt that," he muttered under his breath, trying to suppress the panicky feeling bubbling up into his chest at the thought of being responsible for something as fragile and dependent as an infant.

No.

His body might be giving off all the signals that it was time for him to breed, but his mind was still not comfortable with the notion. He was a monster, he reasoned. He didn't deserve the honor of caring for and protecting a family. And, at his current level of power and skill, he wouldn't even be able to. He was weak. His future counterpart was weak. That one couldn't protect his offspring and paid the ultimate price.

Well… that shit was not going to happen to him this time around. Biological urges be damned, he would not impregnate Bulma.

At least… not until I become a Super Saiyan, the thought floated, unbidden, into the forefront of his mind. And he squashed it, almost violently, even as the image of Bulma, belly swollen and heavy with his git also popped into his brain and caused an almost primal sense of satisfaction to flit through his body, settling in this groin.

Gods-dammit, no! He berated himself, feeling his fists clench in frustration at his sides.

"-Hellooo! Earth to Vegeta! Are you even listening to me?" Bra's tinkling voice was just the bucket of ice water he craved, crashing over his rapidly heating, unruly libido.

"What, brat?" he bit out, not even trying to disguise his annoyance.

"Jeez, what crawled up your ass and died? You're even surlier than usual today." she muttered. "You know, I was actually trying to tell you something important."

"If it was any more bullshit reasoning for you to abandon your training and leave, then I don't want to hear it. Even if I can't do much for you in my current state, you have the knowledge and foundation to continue on your own. Your mother gave you this time in which you can improve yourself relatively safely. Do not waste it by being stupid."

"I'm not being stupid, Pap-, I mean Vegeta. Or did you not just hear me when I said that we're likely being watched and our improvement is being monitored to be used as ammunition for Doctor Gero and his Androids."

Vegeta remained quiet for a long time, trying to digest this, feeling his brows draw together in a frown as he contemplated the implication of this new piece of information. Finally he said,

"We are… being monitored?" doing this looking around in an attempt to spot the unknown spy.

"Bugged… yes. Quite literally." she answered with a nod.

"Bugged?" he reiterated, in a query.

"Yep" she replied, popping the 'p' in a nonchalance that annoyed him and he snapped,

"Explain."

"Well, that was what I was doing while you apparently spaced out,"

"Bra…" he growled, tone thick with warning.

"Alright, fine! Jeez, not like it's my fault you weren't listening in the first place," she mumbled belligerently, to which his own reply was another low growl. He watched her roll her eyes in a petulant manner, not unlike another bluehead he'd recently been very satisfyingly engaged with for hours on end, and take a deep bracing breath before saying,

"So, Gero has these bugs. Electronic monitoring devices in the shape of actual bugs. In my timeline he used these bugs to gather all sorts of interesting data. Information about all the Z fighters, their abilities, power level and skills. This information, mom believes, was used in the androids creation. Which was why they all fell so easily. He also used them to gather DNA. The specific model for that one was in the likeness of a mosquito. Now, this is actually just speculation, since we never could get all the data, but mom believed that the DNA bugs were instrumental in the heart virus creation and infection that took down Goku." she explained.

"Hmm," was Vegeta's seemingly unfazed reply, although in truth, this information was actually one of the most alarming tidbits from the future he'd heard thus far. The implication that his own progress would be used against him… "Your mother…" he started slowly, "she hasn't found a countermeasure to these spy-insects?"

Bra snorted. "Who do you think you're talking about? Of course she did," she said with another eye-roll. "And it was actually Bulma of this time that came up with the repellant, as she calls it. The problem that we had in the past, meaning my timeline, was that the devices are all but undetectable. They use very little energy. So little that, if you had to sweep for them with regular detectors, you'd mostly come up with white noise. They do however emit a very district signal that can be detected if you find the right frequency bands. And, that is, bands in the plural sense because the encryption key for the outgoing signal is quite complex and spans more than one frequency decade."

Vegeta grit his teeth in an attempt to stop himself from snapping at her to skip the scientific mambo jumbo and get to the point, recognizing that this outburst would most likely make him seem ignorant and for some reason, he didn't want her to think his intelligence level is below par. So he let her babble on, taking in what he could reasonably understand, and turning it over in his mind.

"… and therefore, even though we can detect them now, there's no guarantee that Gero won't catch on and change the encryption key in the future which would make us essentially vulnerable to espionage again. So present mom created this device that emits very low-energy EMP, which she discovered these bugs are vulnerable to, and outfitted certain spaces with it. Like the Gravity Chamber for example. The private spaces in the compound and the labs." Bra continued.

"So this is essentially a safe space?" Vegeta queried, referring to the Gravity Chamber.

"Yes. But outside isn't. The other Z-fighters also do not have this protection. Mom has been working on a portable version that she wants to give to the others to take with them when they train. Only problem is that she can't get a wide enough radius for it to actually be effective. As you know, with every signal, the amplitude or initial signal strength deteriorates the longer the wave travels through space. Losses and all that. So, an already small EMP signal will deteriorate to ineffectiveness at a very short distance from the signal origin. Training requires a lot of space…"

"So the thing would anyway be useless," Vegeta said, surprised to find he actually managed to follow most of what she said.

"Exactly. Which brings me back to my original point. I need to leave."

Vegeta shook his head. Having lost her again, although his pride be damned if he admitted it. She saw this and suddenly, her face changed. Her eyes lost some of that intensity that was so like that of Bulma, when she was working on some project or discussing all the improvements made to the Training room. Suddenly she seemed a bit… sad.

"Papa, surely you realize that the longer I stay here. The more likely it is that Gero is going to get data on me. His Androids will be even stronger and the edge that you have because of the forewarning will be lost."

"That's ridiculous" he denied, perturbed, for some explicable reason, by the sad look on her face. So much so that he ignored the familial endearment. It's been a while since he witnessed her melancholy. He didn't like it when she first showed it to him, knowing that it was because he reminded her of her dead sire. He liked it even less now. "If we keep our training limited to this space, there'll be no opportunity for the spy-insects to get anything on you."

She smiled her sad smile again, and this time, he could swear he saw a hint of pity in them. For him. That he liked even less. Deciding to tell her that, he sneered, saying "Don't look at me like that girl. It's no skin off my back if you decide to fuck off to who knows where. You'll be wasting your own potential, after all. I'd be remiss as the Prince of Saiyans, not to point that out."

This for some reason, made her smile widen. The sad look disappeared to be replaced with a teasing edge when she replied, "Oh, well then Your Highness, I'll take your council under advisement. Wouldn't want to waste my potential, after all."

Vegeta just shook his head in exasperation after that, unable to keep the tiny grin from tugging at the corner of his mouth. She was so much like Bulma sometimes - witty and sassy and seemingly having no fear of him and his penchant for casual villainy. Stupid females.

His stomach growled demandingly, and he decided to table this debate until after his hunger was satisfied.

Both hungers, a little voice whispered salaciously into his mind, bringing forth images of Bulma from the previous night as she writhed beneath him. Then of her fists clawing his sheets and her ass bouncing against his hips as he took her from behind. Then of her as she was, the last time he had her before he left her in his bed, on top of him, leaned back and braced on one arm as she rode him. Her glistening form delightfully displayed to him in the early morning light as he hungrily watched her body taking him in, over and over again.

And now his cock was hard and straining against the protective cup in his shorts.

Food could wait. He had other needs that needed addressing first.

"We're done here, Brat" he said brusquely to Bra, still sitting on the floor of the Gravity Trainer, before heading to the exit. Once outside, he took a moment to lock onto the woman's energy signature, and was delighted to note that she was alone in her workspace.

He felt the devious grin tug at his lips before he stalked off, intending to live out one of the very many fantasies he'd had of the woman, involving that white lab coat, and not much else.