AN: Okay, so I'm back to shorter chapters so I can post more frequently. So without further ado...

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything affiliated with it. This story however, is my brain baby.

Chapter 6 (Landlegs)

Bulma spent the next few days exploring the island, every sight and experience and sensation was fascinating and new. Like the heaviness of her limbs when she trekked through the dense foliage of the jungle and the brush of the wind through her hair when she stood atop the highest of cliffs; the warmth of the sun on her skin and color –she would never have guessed that her world could have consisted of so many hues –so much brightness and vibrancy. Sound too: it was so much fun to imitate the diverse sounds of the jungle around her with her mouth: growls and hisses, chirping and tweeting. In her observations she noted that sound was a communications tool to the majority of the creatures around her, much like it is for the ocean mammals. There was danger as well: a beautiful creature –its furry coat was bright like magma with black stripes running through it. It stalked the jungle in a lazy unhurried gate, keeping its inner ferocity tightly leashed until the time came for its hunt. Serpents too –long and scaly, and from what she'd seen them do to their prey, poisonous. These she avoided like the plague.

She also happened across the soul sentient inhabitant of the island a couple of times. The man with the pointy hair, she'd dubbed him. He'd always pause a moment when she approached, his back turned to her, never turning his head to verify her location or acknowledge her presence. Then he would continue with what he had been busy with before she came upon him. Paying her no attention even though he knew she was there –watching him. Of all the peculiar land creatures –he was the most fascinating to Bulma.

The first time she encountered him –not counting the evening after her transformation –she was walking around the island along the beach. She came upon area so horribly scorched; it seemed like someone had taken a bucket of black and poured it upon the landscape. The ground was pockmarked with pits and fissures and all that remained of the once beautiful greenery was blackened stumps and broken down beams strewn everywhere. A lesser mermaid would have taken one look at the careless destruction, concluded that it must have been caused by someone –thing abnormally strong, and then immediately turned tail to retreat. Bulma, however, was no lesser anything, and thus proceeded without a second thought, as per usual, favouring adventure rather than self-preservation.

With every step, Bulma clenched her teeth in frustration. In the water, she had been the epitome of stealth... On land her clumsy unpractised feet seemed to find every dry twig to crack and loose stone to disturb. There was no doubt in her mind that her approach would be heard long before she appeared.

Even though it was evening, it was light enough to see three tails ahead of her on the barren landscape. The phenomenon Bulma could identify as the moon was round –not completely full –but only a few days on its waning cycle. The realization had caused her to stall, watching the moon with quiet consideration. She recalled the tutelage she had received as a daughter of the queen. From a young age onwards, Bulma had been taught all that was known about her planet –things in the ocean and on land. She knew of the moon and the sun and the stars and the air long before she could see and experience it herself. To see all those elements in real time and not in a book was immensely satisfying. Continuing her trek she pondered the knowledge that the Merfolk seemed to have regarding what lay above the sea... surely, she concluded, it was not always so that the Merfolk were forbidden from surfacing. There must have been a time when her people and the humans could interact freely with one another. How else, then, could they have come to know all they knew about land and the creatures who dwell upon it.

So lost the mermaid had become in her own thoughts that she almost missed it when she rounded a corner and found herself in another scorched clearing –with the pointy-haired man standing right at its centre.

She froze – her mouth popping open to form a perfect 'o'. Her first instinct was flight, but still struggling to overcome her surprise, she was a little slow to react. Even when her raging thoughts had calmed enough to move her to action, she found herself uncharacteristically rooted in her place by the intensity of his scowling stare.

The way his eyes burned into her own made her want to shrink back in fear, forgetting that she was ever a brave and skilled warrior. Black, cold and completely hypnotic –like those of the Shark who held her locked in its jaws not so long ago – Yet, at the same time she felt like she could melt –swim through the fire she saw raging behind their icy exterior. She shuddered. Never had anyone's gaze evoked such confusing and conflicting emotions within her... it was irritating –infuriating even –and as soon as the familiar emotion surfaced within her she grabbed for it and held it tight. Anger she understood –anger she knew how to react to. She was just about to give him a piece of her mind for violating her so thoroughly with his eyes, when his eyes suddenly broke from her own. The spell broken as well and her anger dissipated, replaced by a more rational feeling: trepidation. She watched, nervously as his eyes skimmed over her seemingly human form –suddenly feeling self aware as he seemed to be taking his sweet time perusing her. She glanced down herself to consider her attire: she had long since ditched her body armor in favour of running around in her less bulky chain-mail. The metal body suit was form fitting from the collar to her hips, encasing her arms up to her wrist and flaring out ever so slightly until mid-thigh. She wandered idly, if she was dressed immodestly. Bulma was no fool –she had noticed that a new pair of legs weren't the only thing she acquired at her transformation. The breeding mermaids back home had breast-covers to conceal their scale-less chests... her own seemed amply hidden behind the only tini-tiny-bit transparent metal-mesh she wore. She dared another glance at the man, trying to gauge his reaction to her state of dress and whether she needed to be embarrassed or not; only to find the man had turned his back on her and was doing something that looked a little like stretching.

Bulma seethed, he was completely ignoring her now, as if she were just some harmless guppy. Her scorn was soon turned to surprise when she saw him throw a flurry of rapid punches into the air, followed by a barely visible snap of his one leg. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the realization that the man before her was definitely no ordinary human. His fluid and precise movements left an impression that she was intimately familiar –combatant. Bulma watched, entranced as he shifted gracefully from one stance to another –various attack-moves in between. His style suggested a preference of fast brutality over watertight defence. She was fascinated by the way he manoeuvred his legs and feet in fast sweeps and snaps to carry out attacks, yet stayed perfectly balanced in his stances. They seemed like they could be of much more use in a battle than her tail could ever be.

Without much awareness of what she was doing, Bulma found herself perched on one of the fallen tree-trunks, watching attentively how each blow would be carried through against an imaginary opponent.

Since that time she had been regularly visiting his training ground, carefully scrutinizing his every move.

The women was visiting again. Over the course of three weeks she comes to watch his shadow sparring sessions at least twice a week. Her presence, in the beginning was somewhat of an annoyance to Vegeta, her silence unnerving. He quickly got passed that however, and her visits have since had a soothing effect of the lonely Saiyan prince. She makes him feel valued, respected even when she observes him so intently. Her eyes, whenever he manages to catch them are intelligent and determined. Against his better judgement, he became curious again. Now, he watches her in return. Sometimes she's aware of his presence. Sometimes she is not.

She never eats anything the land has to offer, but swims out every morning and evening for an hour, he assumes she finds her sustenance there. When she's not in the ocean, she explores the island's diverse wildlife, steering well clear of most of the threatening species and utilizing her trident when danger can not be avoided. Something that Vegeta finds quite intriguing is her habit to linger at the berry bushes. Picking and scenting them as if she would eat them -especially the ones called strawberries, then dropping them on the ground again. He had attempted to speak to her then, belatedly realising that she probably wouldn't be familiar with the common earth language.

Something strange occurred that day -a prickly sensation at the back of his skull. Although shocked at his attempt to speak to her, her face quickly took on a concentrated look and suddenly he was not alone in his own mind anymore.

His travels of the universe did bring him into contact with two telepathic races, one of them capable of mind control. Vegeta thus made it a point of personal pride to make sure his mental barriers were as strong as his ki barriers. Needless to say breaking into his mind was not a very smart move for the little fish-women because the next moment, he had her by the throat, pinned to a tree.

'Stay out of my head' he sneered, before dropping her to the ground, careless of her wheezing as he retreated to his training again.

In hindsight, he might have overreacted, however reflexive his lashing out may have been. The woman had disappeared for three days after that incident. Guilt is not an emotion he is overly familiar with and the Saiyan prince was at a loss for how to make it go away. He finally decided to pick some berries and was waiting for an opportunity to offer them to her. He felt her ki return to island the previous day but up until a few minutes ago, she's been avoiding him.

She did not sit, as she usually did, on a stump on the far side of the clearing, but instead stood it its entrance. Her stance was neutral, but she was carrying her trident at its fully extended length.

Bulma couldn't believe she was facing this man again after what he did to her. Their last encounter proved what Bulma had suspected all along. He was stronger than her -having the clear advantage of being a land dweller on land. He was also dangerous in that he was unpredictable.

And yet -here she was. Ready to make amends.

Any other day Bulma wouldn't give two Kelps about who was the stronger fighter. An offense like the one he dealt her four moon cycles prior would have warranted immediate retaliation. The problem was however, that One: Land was not her domain and she did not understand the social norms of the two legged creatures; and Two -and more importantly - she got less than she deserved for the stunt she pulled with him. If they were in the ocean and she forced her way into her allies' mind like that it would have been seen as a gross misuse of power and a violation of trust.

While it is true that he was trying to communicate with her and she had no way of answering, a gentle knock on his mental shields should have been the right way to go about establishing a first link. Granted, she did try that at first, but after the first tap she suddenly recalled that humans were not naturally inclined to receive or project telepathically. So she took a gamble and bypassed his mind's natural protective barriers. She hoped that he would be unfamiliar enough with telepathic manipulation to overlook the intrusion. It was all for the sake of intelligible communication after all, she reasoned, but breaking down those barriers was not an easy skill to acquire and also not something Bulma could do subtly. And, as the resultant attack on her person had shown, the intrusion was definitely recognised and strongly unappreciated.

Bulma was in the wrong, no matter how she tried to justify it at the time and her honor demanded she make amends. Not only that, Bulma had grown to admire the solitary warrior during the time she spent on the island with him; His dedication to becoming stronger inspired her on a daily basis. He had become a sort of companion to her. She would never have admitted it back home, because attachments were seen as a weakness in the Queen's army, but she needed her friends and family. It kept her centered. So, even though they never spoke, the pointy haired man alleviated her loneliness a bit. She needed his forgiveness.

He was doing that thing again, Bulma noted. That slow perusal of her person that made her feel both insecure and all melty inside at the same time, his eyes always lingering a moment longer on her legs. Then his eyes flashed to her trident and back to her face again as a mocking smirk appeared on his face.

And just like that, Bulma's anger flared, all meltiness forgotten - along with intended apology. How is it that he could invoke such tender feelings of companionship one moment and then infuriate her so thoroughly not a moment later, she thought, perplexed as she lowered her stance and shifted her trident into an attack position. She glared at the smug bastard. If he thought she was a weakling he had another thing coming, she steamed, flaring her energy around her body to protect herself. His mocking smirk soon stretched to an taunting grin and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

This time she was ready for him when he rushed at her. He was still too fast for her to follow all his movements but he must have flipped over her because she detected his landing right behind her and swung her trident around. A loud clang rang in the air as her trident staff met his forearm; he blocked the blow aimed for his jaw. Now they stood, faces inches from one another. His stoic black gaze met her angry cerulean blues for several seconds. Then the corner of his lips tilted up subtly. It was the first time she saw him grin, however small, without derision or conceit. It revealed a humorous side to Bulma's island companion that quickly dissolved her anger and her heart fluttered with hope and what Bulma finally recognized as fondness.

She was fond of him.

The epiphany made her take a step back. Sheathing her trident, she examined him again. This time, with a different perspective. Now that she had breeding capabilities, it is said she would look at males differently. She recalled one if her older sisters, Mina, saying that fertile mermaids look at males with a mind to mate and that this perspective causes strange urges in a mermaid. Introspectively, it is true that weird things sometimes happen to her body when she watches him. Like the heat in the pit of her belly and the tingles running up her spine. Up until then she always attributed the excitement to battle hunger, triggered by watching him train. It is a very similar feeling, Bulma admitted, but different…

Could she be having mating urges toward this man?

Her eyes caught his once more, he was watching her with an expectant expression. It is possible she considered. It may even be reciprocated. Her eyes then travelled the length of his body, noting his lithe frame. He was wearing some sort of skin tight, black loin covering that started below his navel and sheathed his legs until mid-thigh. Although small, his body was corded with powerful, well defined muscles, from his bulky neck down to thick his calves. The bronze skin of his torso and abdomen glistened with a thin layer of moisture, the phenomenon known as sweat.

Bulma had learnt of this phenomenon her first day on the island -this salty fluid one's body excretes in extreme heat. At first she had thought that she was literally melting, and had fled frantically to the ocean to cool down. This midday swim became a daily occurrence until she discovered the pointy haired warrior's training grounds for the first time. When she saw the same thing happening to his skin and that no permanent harm resulted from it, Bulma concluded it to be a normal human bodily occurrence and stopped running for cold water every time it happened to her. Only to finally discover the its purpose: it pleasantly cooled her overheated skin when hit with a breeze of fresh air. A very practical bodily function indeed.

Therefore it made no sense that staring at a droplet as it trailed down his pectoral muscle, over the ridges of his ripped abdomen and into the band of fabric below his navel invoked in her one of those aforementioned spine tingles that and caused heat to pool low in her belly. It was ludicrous that seeing him sweat urges her to try and taste it -if only just a little bit. She knew the taste of salt water. It was more familiar to her than the taste of air … These feeling really made no logical sense to her. She therefore concluded that it must be mating urges after all.

Mystery solved.

Being able to identify why her body was acting so strangely to his presence and proximity put the perplexed mermaid at ease. After all, now that she could identify the problem the solution was simple. If what her sister said was true, these urges would stop bothering her if she mated with the man. Thus, ever the practical mermaid, Bulma set her mind on this new course: Operation Coitus. The mechanics of said operation was still vague to the now leg wielding mermaid, but, she assumed that she had all the parts, even though she looked a bit different in her current form. so, it shouldn't be that difficult.

First things first though, establish a communicative mind link. Which probably sounded crazy after her first attempt to do failed dramatically, but how else is she going to learn about the courtship rituals of these land dwellers if not by proper communication.

Vegeta's skull was tingling again.

He had no idea what he was doing. He should have just given her the berries and sent her on her way. She's distraction with her sparkling eyes and curvy body. Yet, there he stood, locked in place, watching -waiting for her to make her move.

She intrigues him. Her intentions puzzle him and her fiery mood swings entertain him immensely. He considered her weapon, and made no attempt to hide his feelings about her chances against him. They do not need words, his face says it all. The woman can't even walk properly nevermind fight. One moment, she's uncertain, hesitant even and like a switch was flipped, suddenly she's the fierce warrior he saw that day, leaping out of the water with a dragon in her wake. She takes an offensive stance, as if she actually has a chance. It's hilarious. She's bold and he likes it -more than he should. So instead of diffusing the situation by giving her the berry peace offering and getting back to his training, he engages her. He means to toy with her so he phases out. He ends up behind her, but to his surprise, she manages to sense him there. The trident catches him unaware and he blocks instead of evading. They're face to face. She pants heavily, smelling of fury and frustration and he loves it. He cracks. They do not need words. His face says it all. She sees his weakness and retreats. Dammit.

He should have just given her her fruits. She's become a distraction -affecting his sound reason with emotional turmoil. He prepares to take his leave -to give the woman her berries and return to his training, but then he catches her looking. Really looking: the sort of appraisal he subjects her to when she's unaware of his attention. She sees him as a man; and suddenly he is hyper aware of her as a woman. That underneath that metal sheath she parades around in, she wears nothing but her skin. Skin that he could recall from their first encounter was soft as flower petals. His fingers itched to revisit the sensation and he clenched them in tightly formed fists.

What is he doing? He chastised himself. She should not be able to affect his control this way. His body has become this rebellious thing, his mind straying along with it… and damn it that Kami-forsaken tingling in his skull was back again, tempting him to lower his defenses even more. She was probing, he realised, asking instead of bulldozing ahead into his mind like she did last time. Vegeta was torn. Consenting would be very practical in terms of communication, but refusing would keep a much needed barrier between the Saiyan Prince and the temptation she represented to him. However, something told him that rejecting her would not bring an end to the ever increasing frustration he felt in her presence, that can only be relieved by other means. Dare he go there?

Vegeta afforded her one more once over, weighing the pros against the cons. She was deep under his skin, he admitted to himself. Taking her body should get her out and get him back to pursuing the one thing on his agenda worth anything to him: achieving the legendary Super Saiyan status and beating that fool Kakarot to a pulp with his own limbs.

Mind made up, Vegeta took a deep breath… and let her in.

AN: As you will have noted, things are heating up between our protagonists (naughty Nelzi ;p) but rest assured readers, I won't simply skip straight ahead to 'can you feel the love tonight' ...there is a plot. What you just read was pure chemistry in the form of hormonal reactions -the romancing comes with time. I won't have any hanky panky without a deeper connection. Speaking of… I don't think I'll be able to do lemons. I'll let y'all use your imaginations and allude the sh1t out of the rest, which'll keep my more sensitive readers happy -I think. It is a rated T fic after all.

Also, for the interested readers, here is the full Prophecy of Bulma's people:

When stars decide to touch the sea.

The strongest one must then chosen be.

Blue is hailed to merge with black.

The barren trident she brings back

The One who slumbers again must stir

For the royal challenge to occur

In battle, Grand: the victory –

Unites all of land and sea.

A golden crown he will wear –

The brown-tailed one with lilac hair.

Heir to both land and sea