Simply Irresistible
NCDavis
Chap. 6: "And in the end. . . ."
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z and its characters are not mine, but belong to Akira Toriyama. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only.
Key:
Double colons (::): Thought
Plus signs (+): Computer's voice
Slashes (/): Italics
Asterisks (*): Bold/Underline
Text between two rows of colons (:::::::::) is flashback
AN: Well, it's been a pleasure. This is bittersweet in a way. I have other ideas for B/V fic, but this one's been with me for awhile. Sad to say goodbye to it. I just hope the close does those two wacky kids justice. Enjoy.
**************************
Bulma sat at her dresser lost in thought as she brushed out her hair. Straight it hit the bend of her arms. She really was going to have to cut it before the baby came, otherwise the kid would have a field day with it.
The baby. She placed her free hand on her lower belly. She wasn't showing yet, but she could feel the bulging of her womb and -- she smiled -- the faint flutter of her little one. It was amazing what that flutter had done to her when she first felt it. It centered her, and in a lot of ways relieved her. It was real, and in accepting the reality, she'd squared her jaw to fate. Looking back on the would'ves and could'ves was pointless. She could only move forward. She'd be okay. There was only one problem. A shudder ran through her. One of the few times she'd known Vegeta to be purely happy and she'd gone and yanked his heart out. And when she'd gotten up the nerve to explain. . . .
::::::::::::::::::::
Bulma circled the clearing as she brought the one-man Capsule-copter in for a landing. Farther downstream her target sat immobile. There'd been no point in talking to Vegeta while he trained and she needed to talk to him uninterrupted.. She suspected he kept watch on her, but he avoided direct contact like the plague. Her usual stake-outs in his kitchen proved fruitless, but she also knew there were days he left Capsule Corp. She'd tried tracking him the electronic way with no luck. Now, she tried women's intuition. Something in her told her he'd come back here to the scene of the crime, so to speak, back to the place they'd been the happiest and the most crushed all in a minute's breath.
She got out of the copter and shrunk it back into its capsule. Even though he must have heard her, he hadn't flown off yet. A good sign. Her heart pounded loud in her ears as she approached him. He looked every inch the prince even out here, arms and legs crossed as he sat on the grassy bank, eyes fixed on the running stream in front of him. Whatever birds were around were silent, no insects chirped, as though all of nature paid him reverence. So much so that she kept her distance when she called his name and waited for permission to come closer. None came. Like that had ever stopped her before.
"Vegeta, I know you hear me, and if you didn't want to talk to me, I'd be eating your dust right now." He still didn't move. He didn't even blink, but she supposed his not moving was the best invitation she was going to get.
Great, so now she had his attention. What was she going to do with it? All her well-planned, sophisticated speeches flew right out of her head. What she was left with felt so inadequate, but it would have to do. Or at least be a place to start.
"I'm sorry, Vegeta. I know that sounds lame, but I am. You'd never admit it in a million years, but I know I hurt you and that's tearing me up inside. I wish I hadn't; I wish you'd never seen my mega-watt meltdown. I wish I could stand here and tell you I was just hysterical, but we both know I'd be lying. I was scared. Scared of the responsibility of being a mom. Scared of your surety. I don't know about Planet Vegeta, but around here the only guy that sure about your pregnancy before you are is your ob./gyn. But you were so confident. God, I think that terrified me most. In a lot of ways I'm still shaking. I'm about to do something only one other woman on the face of this planet has ever done. Give birth to a Saiyan. And I know you don't think much of Chichi, but she's way stronger than me. Not to mention being clueless about the difference. Whoever 'they' are, they're right. Ignorance is bliss. She didn't know what symptoms were normal for a human and what weren't. Hell, she didn't even flinch at the super kicks Gohan was throwing her, not till her last month anyway. They started doubling her over then. Her. Chichi. The same girl who challenged Goku in a tournament."
She took a deep breath; she couldn't lose it now. Or let him know that she envied what Chichi *did* know. That her man still loved her. "What I'm trying to say is every pregnancy is different. Even if I knew every little thing Chichi had gone through, even in the best scenario, there are so many unknowns here, more than there would be if the baby were 100% human. That's what I meant about half-Saiyans. What I never, ever meant is that I regret you're my baby's father."
The silence that followed felt like a clamp around her. She waited for him to move or yell or even laugh in her face. Nothing. . . .
::::::::::::::::::::
Bulma climbed into bed, her thoughts as tumultuous now as they'd been that day. The nothing, as far as she was concerned, was the worst case possible. Turning out the light, she struggled to fight back the one inkling blacker than the night around her. Whatever emotion drove him to choose her, whatever love he was capable of had died, and it was her own stupid, stupid fault.
/=/=/=/
Her hair had been made for moonlight.
Vegeta immediately kicked himself for entertaining the thought. He was not here to take in how beautiful Bulma could be while she slept. He was here merely to keep watch, as he'd done every night the past two months, to insure no harm came to the child she carried. That was all.
::Liar.::
He ran testy fingers through his upswept hair. All right, so this night was different. And each one before till he reached that afternoon she'd found him by the river. He hadn't wanted to hear her excuses, but hearing them in that moment became lifeblood to him. He'd been tortured, wanting her and wanting to hate her. Hating her would make life return to blissful normalcy, allow him to refocus on his mission. Just when he thought the later was in his grasp, his damned curiosity got the better of him. He let her find him, let her blab on about her weaknesses, and despite having let her crush the newly minted, fragile trust he'd given her, he was mad enough to believe her. He was mad enough to think of rebuilding it and giving it to her again. So he sat here on the edge of her bed, night after night, waiting for something in her unguarded visage to betray her darker intention.
Damn her. He found nothing.
He buried his face in his hands. He'd lost his edge. No, he'd given it away with that stupid thing of trust. He was a warrior, a Saiyan. He should wait till the brat was born then take him and the old gravity ship and leave. But then, who would tend to it? Saiyan fathers didn't bother much with the daily rearing until the child was old enough to train. The only other woman who had the right experience was that idiot female Kakarrot had chained himself to, and look what a sniveling brat she'd almost turned her son into. He shuddered. No, he'd seen enough to know at least Bulma would raise no cowards. Very well, he'd stay. Besides, the training room was superior to the rigged ship. And those were the only reasons.
Gods, who was the coward? The truth . . . the truth was he wanted to stay for her. He sighed. He was beyond hope.
"What's wrong, Vegeta?"
What? He turned his head towards the voice to find her awake and watching him, a furrow of worry etched in her brow. Why did she have to be concerned for him? "Nothing. Go back to sleep." He stood up to leave, but she sat up and caught his arm, pulling him back down to the bed. He could feel the desperation in her touch.
"Not until you talk to me. Don't you think it's time?"
Yes. No. Why did she have to put him on the spot like this. "I did talk to you. I told you to go back to sleep. As usual, you ignored me."
She stared at him, her mouth open slightly before it began to quiver. Tears edged her eyes. Next thing he knew he had a bundle of sobbing Bulma flung into his unsuspecting arms. *Now* what was he supposed to do? He knew pregnant females could be emotional, but this? "Gods, woman, you're getting me wet. Get your hormones under control."
She pulled back, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and damn it, she was smiling. "I'm sorry, it's just it's been so long since you've been gruff with me that way. It's the sweetest thing you've said to me in weeks." Then she shook her head. "Damn, my hormones *are* out of control."
"How can you tell."
"Vegeta!"
Hmph. She was right. The familiar had sprung up out of nowhere. Perhaps they had a chance. The distance needed more than bantering, yet sometimes the biggest step was the dealing with the smallest obstacle. Hadn't she tried the other day when she apologized to him? "Bulma . . . about that day . . . when I realized you were with child . . . I didn't mean what I said, what I called you, before I flew off."
She replied, "Yes you did."
Of all the. . . . "I'm in the middle of apol--offering a peace to you, Woman. You should be grateful. Or are you incapable of understanding the honor?"
She crossed her arms. "Well, excuse me, let my grovel myself to the great prince."
"Maddening female."
"Egotistical jerk."
He was about to reply; she about to cut him off, when they caught each other's eye. He suddenly saw it the same time she did. They chuckled, more from embarrassment than humor. Yes, it was quite familiar.
She spoke first. "We're hopeless."
He shrugged. "It is our way."
"Yeah? People with our way usually wind up seeing a marriage counselor. Except we aren't even married. Wonder if there are sessions for couple like us. Advanced Neuroses With Your Live-In 101."
And there was another bump in the road. "Have you forgotten what I showed you?"
"About?"
"/Umuraqh/."
She thought a moment. "No. In my way of thinking you're either engaged or walking down the aisle. I'm just not used to the in-between. "
"And?"
She lowered her head. "I wasn't sure you still wanted it with me."
That was it. What doubts he had, the raw pain in her voice quelled them. Maybe he wasn't so mad after all. "Look at me, Woman." She shyly complied. "I'm only going to say this once. What we shared is not quickly given, nor quickly taken away. As . . . angry as I was, it would take much more than that for me to sever our mating. By that point, I'd probably kill you first."
Her eyes grew a fraction wider. "Let me guess. Betrayal. Adultery. Things Saiyans don't handle very well."
"Exactly. Things I honestly don't believe you're capable of." He could see her blush even in the muted light and he couldn't resist teasing her. "Don't tell me I've actually managed to leave you speechless."
"Hmph."
No, not so mad.
A few seconds passed before she spoke again. "It is true, you know." Her mouth curved into a depreciating smile. "You did mean it that afternoon. Because I'd hurt you. Never let it be said the Prince of the Saiyans doesn't give a good as he gets, eh?" She reached up to stroke his face. "But I know you don't mean it now."
There were no signs of mirth in her eyes and what her words really meant utterly amazed him. She'd already forgiven him. Before he'd come here, before she'd found him that day.
He realized he was gaping at her and she was enjoying her turn at smugness. He needed a change of topic. "What symptoms have you been having?"
"Huh? Oh," she shrugged as if she knew what he was doing, "you mean with the baby. What I don't have is morning sickness. Chichi said that happened with her too. Or didn't happen."
"Morning sickness?"
"Yeah, nausea. Sometimes vomiting. Always a fun surprise."
"How impractical."
"You can't tell me Saiyans don't throw up. It's a body's defense mechanism."
"We can control the reflex. How vulnerable to be hunched over in a bush during a battle."
She rolled her eyes. "I should've known. Anyway, I do get tired easily. Not to mention those cravings."
"For?"
"Ice cream. Bananas. Boy, do I go for the bananas, and. . . ."
"And?"
"And . . . other weird pregnant woman stuff. It can boggle the mind. Chichi said she was gaga for chocolate-covered pickles for a week."
He frowned. He could hear the deception in her voice. "I have no concern for what Kakarrot's mate wanted. Tell me what you want."
She became overly fascinated with the edge of her sheet. "Nothing odd. Just steak."
That had his full attention, and he believed he knew where it was headed. "And how do you like your steak?" Normally, she liked it what she called medium.
"Funny, I've been liking it rare lately. I never used to like it that way. I know you do. Maybe the kid has his dad's taste?"
He raised her chin with the crook of his finger and held her gaze. "But it's not enough, is it." The flicker there told him the answer.
"S-Sometimes, I like it raw . . . but a lot of people like raw meat. Beef tartar is legend."
He wondered whom she was trying to convince more. "Your mother made some once. Not bad, but it lacks a certain something. Then again, all your store- bought meat lacks a certain something."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
She was shaking now. "It's not normal."
"For whom? Humans? Perhaps not, but as you said, perhaps the brat has his father's taste." He leaned in closer. "Then no doubt so does his mother."
"And the smell, Vegeta," she whispered, lost in her admission. "Even when it's alive, the smell sends shivers up my spine. We went on a picnic last week -- just the family -- up in the hills. This deer crossed the clearing. My folks oohed and ahhed . . . and all I wanted was to hunt it down for the kill."
The bloodlust glittered in her eyes like jewels. Magnificent. "You desire what you need, Woman, you should not deny it."
She tried to break the spell. "That's what they make iron pills for."
He pulled his hand away and brought the pad of his thumb to his lips. "No pill can give you this." He placed it between his teeth and broke the skin.
Her eyes darkened the moment she saw his blood. He held his hand out to her, ached as her tongue lapped at the wound, as her mouth closed round it and sucked with greed at his offering. He gathered her into him with his free arm, nuzzling the scent of her hair, her skin, the scent of her blood pulsing beneath. Tomorrow he would hunt for her. Tonight, he would be the feast.
The sucking on his thumb stopped. He pulled back to find her staring at the trickle of blood sliding down it as though what she'd been doing the past few moments had just dawned on her.
Her breath came hard. "Tell me this doesn't last the whole pregnancy."
He wiped his hand against his leg. "Was it so bad?"
"N-No . . . it's just weird. I mean, that pink shirt fits, but would you like to wear it every day?"
He could see her point. "The craving should subside soon. Meanwhile, I'll get fresh game for you. Come to think of it, I haven't had to hunt for a while. Should be fun."
She shook her head at that, then frowned. "It's still bleeding." She scrambled off the bed. He could hear her rummaging in the adjoining bathroom, and after a few moments, she reappeared with dressings. Neither said anything as she tended to his wound, though he sensed a tension in her. He would wait for her to break the silence.
He didn't have to wait long. Her "thank you" came on the barest breath. "For?"
She waited until she finished with the bandage. "For taking care of me."
"Always."
"And for forgiving me."
"I had no choice." In truth, he didn't.
Her eyes searched his. "Then we'll be okay?"
"Mm-hmm." They would be more than okay, he thought, as he drew her up against him, pressing her body into his chest. What they shared was more than familiar. He knew in his deepest primal instinct their union was part of his destiny. They . . .they were inevitable. Irresistible.
"You know," she said, "there is a beautiful moon out tonight. We should go flying."
The allusion was not wholly lost on him. "Where do you want to go?"
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, giving him a soft peck on the lips. "I don't want to 'go' anywhere." She smiled up at him. "I've just never done it that way before."
=End=
NCDavis
Chap. 6: "And in the end. . . ."
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z and its characters are not mine, but belong to Akira Toriyama. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only.
Key:
Double colons (::): Thought
Plus signs (+): Computer's voice
Slashes (/): Italics
Asterisks (*): Bold/Underline
Text between two rows of colons (:::::::::) is flashback
AN: Well, it's been a pleasure. This is bittersweet in a way. I have other ideas for B/V fic, but this one's been with me for awhile. Sad to say goodbye to it. I just hope the close does those two wacky kids justice. Enjoy.
**************************
Bulma sat at her dresser lost in thought as she brushed out her hair. Straight it hit the bend of her arms. She really was going to have to cut it before the baby came, otherwise the kid would have a field day with it.
The baby. She placed her free hand on her lower belly. She wasn't showing yet, but she could feel the bulging of her womb and -- she smiled -- the faint flutter of her little one. It was amazing what that flutter had done to her when she first felt it. It centered her, and in a lot of ways relieved her. It was real, and in accepting the reality, she'd squared her jaw to fate. Looking back on the would'ves and could'ves was pointless. She could only move forward. She'd be okay. There was only one problem. A shudder ran through her. One of the few times she'd known Vegeta to be purely happy and she'd gone and yanked his heart out. And when she'd gotten up the nerve to explain. . . .
::::::::::::::::::::
Bulma circled the clearing as she brought the one-man Capsule-copter in for a landing. Farther downstream her target sat immobile. There'd been no point in talking to Vegeta while he trained and she needed to talk to him uninterrupted.. She suspected he kept watch on her, but he avoided direct contact like the plague. Her usual stake-outs in his kitchen proved fruitless, but she also knew there were days he left Capsule Corp. She'd tried tracking him the electronic way with no luck. Now, she tried women's intuition. Something in her told her he'd come back here to the scene of the crime, so to speak, back to the place they'd been the happiest and the most crushed all in a minute's breath.
She got out of the copter and shrunk it back into its capsule. Even though he must have heard her, he hadn't flown off yet. A good sign. Her heart pounded loud in her ears as she approached him. He looked every inch the prince even out here, arms and legs crossed as he sat on the grassy bank, eyes fixed on the running stream in front of him. Whatever birds were around were silent, no insects chirped, as though all of nature paid him reverence. So much so that she kept her distance when she called his name and waited for permission to come closer. None came. Like that had ever stopped her before.
"Vegeta, I know you hear me, and if you didn't want to talk to me, I'd be eating your dust right now." He still didn't move. He didn't even blink, but she supposed his not moving was the best invitation she was going to get.
Great, so now she had his attention. What was she going to do with it? All her well-planned, sophisticated speeches flew right out of her head. What she was left with felt so inadequate, but it would have to do. Or at least be a place to start.
"I'm sorry, Vegeta. I know that sounds lame, but I am. You'd never admit it in a million years, but I know I hurt you and that's tearing me up inside. I wish I hadn't; I wish you'd never seen my mega-watt meltdown. I wish I could stand here and tell you I was just hysterical, but we both know I'd be lying. I was scared. Scared of the responsibility of being a mom. Scared of your surety. I don't know about Planet Vegeta, but around here the only guy that sure about your pregnancy before you are is your ob./gyn. But you were so confident. God, I think that terrified me most. In a lot of ways I'm still shaking. I'm about to do something only one other woman on the face of this planet has ever done. Give birth to a Saiyan. And I know you don't think much of Chichi, but she's way stronger than me. Not to mention being clueless about the difference. Whoever 'they' are, they're right. Ignorance is bliss. She didn't know what symptoms were normal for a human and what weren't. Hell, she didn't even flinch at the super kicks Gohan was throwing her, not till her last month anyway. They started doubling her over then. Her. Chichi. The same girl who challenged Goku in a tournament."
She took a deep breath; she couldn't lose it now. Or let him know that she envied what Chichi *did* know. That her man still loved her. "What I'm trying to say is every pregnancy is different. Even if I knew every little thing Chichi had gone through, even in the best scenario, there are so many unknowns here, more than there would be if the baby were 100% human. That's what I meant about half-Saiyans. What I never, ever meant is that I regret you're my baby's father."
The silence that followed felt like a clamp around her. She waited for him to move or yell or even laugh in her face. Nothing. . . .
::::::::::::::::::::
Bulma climbed into bed, her thoughts as tumultuous now as they'd been that day. The nothing, as far as she was concerned, was the worst case possible. Turning out the light, she struggled to fight back the one inkling blacker than the night around her. Whatever emotion drove him to choose her, whatever love he was capable of had died, and it was her own stupid, stupid fault.
/=/=/=/
Her hair had been made for moonlight.
Vegeta immediately kicked himself for entertaining the thought. He was not here to take in how beautiful Bulma could be while she slept. He was here merely to keep watch, as he'd done every night the past two months, to insure no harm came to the child she carried. That was all.
::Liar.::
He ran testy fingers through his upswept hair. All right, so this night was different. And each one before till he reached that afternoon she'd found him by the river. He hadn't wanted to hear her excuses, but hearing them in that moment became lifeblood to him. He'd been tortured, wanting her and wanting to hate her. Hating her would make life return to blissful normalcy, allow him to refocus on his mission. Just when he thought the later was in his grasp, his damned curiosity got the better of him. He let her find him, let her blab on about her weaknesses, and despite having let her crush the newly minted, fragile trust he'd given her, he was mad enough to believe her. He was mad enough to think of rebuilding it and giving it to her again. So he sat here on the edge of her bed, night after night, waiting for something in her unguarded visage to betray her darker intention.
Damn her. He found nothing.
He buried his face in his hands. He'd lost his edge. No, he'd given it away with that stupid thing of trust. He was a warrior, a Saiyan. He should wait till the brat was born then take him and the old gravity ship and leave. But then, who would tend to it? Saiyan fathers didn't bother much with the daily rearing until the child was old enough to train. The only other woman who had the right experience was that idiot female Kakarrot had chained himself to, and look what a sniveling brat she'd almost turned her son into. He shuddered. No, he'd seen enough to know at least Bulma would raise no cowards. Very well, he'd stay. Besides, the training room was superior to the rigged ship. And those were the only reasons.
Gods, who was the coward? The truth . . . the truth was he wanted to stay for her. He sighed. He was beyond hope.
"What's wrong, Vegeta?"
What? He turned his head towards the voice to find her awake and watching him, a furrow of worry etched in her brow. Why did she have to be concerned for him? "Nothing. Go back to sleep." He stood up to leave, but she sat up and caught his arm, pulling him back down to the bed. He could feel the desperation in her touch.
"Not until you talk to me. Don't you think it's time?"
Yes. No. Why did she have to put him on the spot like this. "I did talk to you. I told you to go back to sleep. As usual, you ignored me."
She stared at him, her mouth open slightly before it began to quiver. Tears edged her eyes. Next thing he knew he had a bundle of sobbing Bulma flung into his unsuspecting arms. *Now* what was he supposed to do? He knew pregnant females could be emotional, but this? "Gods, woman, you're getting me wet. Get your hormones under control."
She pulled back, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and damn it, she was smiling. "I'm sorry, it's just it's been so long since you've been gruff with me that way. It's the sweetest thing you've said to me in weeks." Then she shook her head. "Damn, my hormones *are* out of control."
"How can you tell."
"Vegeta!"
Hmph. She was right. The familiar had sprung up out of nowhere. Perhaps they had a chance. The distance needed more than bantering, yet sometimes the biggest step was the dealing with the smallest obstacle. Hadn't she tried the other day when she apologized to him? "Bulma . . . about that day . . . when I realized you were with child . . . I didn't mean what I said, what I called you, before I flew off."
She replied, "Yes you did."
Of all the. . . . "I'm in the middle of apol--offering a peace to you, Woman. You should be grateful. Or are you incapable of understanding the honor?"
She crossed her arms. "Well, excuse me, let my grovel myself to the great prince."
"Maddening female."
"Egotistical jerk."
He was about to reply; she about to cut him off, when they caught each other's eye. He suddenly saw it the same time she did. They chuckled, more from embarrassment than humor. Yes, it was quite familiar.
She spoke first. "We're hopeless."
He shrugged. "It is our way."
"Yeah? People with our way usually wind up seeing a marriage counselor. Except we aren't even married. Wonder if there are sessions for couple like us. Advanced Neuroses With Your Live-In 101."
And there was another bump in the road. "Have you forgotten what I showed you?"
"About?"
"/Umuraqh/."
She thought a moment. "No. In my way of thinking you're either engaged or walking down the aisle. I'm just not used to the in-between. "
"And?"
She lowered her head. "I wasn't sure you still wanted it with me."
That was it. What doubts he had, the raw pain in her voice quelled them. Maybe he wasn't so mad after all. "Look at me, Woman." She shyly complied. "I'm only going to say this once. What we shared is not quickly given, nor quickly taken away. As . . . angry as I was, it would take much more than that for me to sever our mating. By that point, I'd probably kill you first."
Her eyes grew a fraction wider. "Let me guess. Betrayal. Adultery. Things Saiyans don't handle very well."
"Exactly. Things I honestly don't believe you're capable of." He could see her blush even in the muted light and he couldn't resist teasing her. "Don't tell me I've actually managed to leave you speechless."
"Hmph."
No, not so mad.
A few seconds passed before she spoke again. "It is true, you know." Her mouth curved into a depreciating smile. "You did mean it that afternoon. Because I'd hurt you. Never let it be said the Prince of the Saiyans doesn't give a good as he gets, eh?" She reached up to stroke his face. "But I know you don't mean it now."
There were no signs of mirth in her eyes and what her words really meant utterly amazed him. She'd already forgiven him. Before he'd come here, before she'd found him that day.
He realized he was gaping at her and she was enjoying her turn at smugness. He needed a change of topic. "What symptoms have you been having?"
"Huh? Oh," she shrugged as if she knew what he was doing, "you mean with the baby. What I don't have is morning sickness. Chichi said that happened with her too. Or didn't happen."
"Morning sickness?"
"Yeah, nausea. Sometimes vomiting. Always a fun surprise."
"How impractical."
"You can't tell me Saiyans don't throw up. It's a body's defense mechanism."
"We can control the reflex. How vulnerable to be hunched over in a bush during a battle."
She rolled her eyes. "I should've known. Anyway, I do get tired easily. Not to mention those cravings."
"For?"
"Ice cream. Bananas. Boy, do I go for the bananas, and. . . ."
"And?"
"And . . . other weird pregnant woman stuff. It can boggle the mind. Chichi said she was gaga for chocolate-covered pickles for a week."
He frowned. He could hear the deception in her voice. "I have no concern for what Kakarrot's mate wanted. Tell me what you want."
She became overly fascinated with the edge of her sheet. "Nothing odd. Just steak."
That had his full attention, and he believed he knew where it was headed. "And how do you like your steak?" Normally, she liked it what she called medium.
"Funny, I've been liking it rare lately. I never used to like it that way. I know you do. Maybe the kid has his dad's taste?"
He raised her chin with the crook of his finger and held her gaze. "But it's not enough, is it." The flicker there told him the answer.
"S-Sometimes, I like it raw . . . but a lot of people like raw meat. Beef tartar is legend."
He wondered whom she was trying to convince more. "Your mother made some once. Not bad, but it lacks a certain something. Then again, all your store- bought meat lacks a certain something."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
She was shaking now. "It's not normal."
"For whom? Humans? Perhaps not, but as you said, perhaps the brat has his father's taste." He leaned in closer. "Then no doubt so does his mother."
"And the smell, Vegeta," she whispered, lost in her admission. "Even when it's alive, the smell sends shivers up my spine. We went on a picnic last week -- just the family -- up in the hills. This deer crossed the clearing. My folks oohed and ahhed . . . and all I wanted was to hunt it down for the kill."
The bloodlust glittered in her eyes like jewels. Magnificent. "You desire what you need, Woman, you should not deny it."
She tried to break the spell. "That's what they make iron pills for."
He pulled his hand away and brought the pad of his thumb to his lips. "No pill can give you this." He placed it between his teeth and broke the skin.
Her eyes darkened the moment she saw his blood. He held his hand out to her, ached as her tongue lapped at the wound, as her mouth closed round it and sucked with greed at his offering. He gathered her into him with his free arm, nuzzling the scent of her hair, her skin, the scent of her blood pulsing beneath. Tomorrow he would hunt for her. Tonight, he would be the feast.
The sucking on his thumb stopped. He pulled back to find her staring at the trickle of blood sliding down it as though what she'd been doing the past few moments had just dawned on her.
Her breath came hard. "Tell me this doesn't last the whole pregnancy."
He wiped his hand against his leg. "Was it so bad?"
"N-No . . . it's just weird. I mean, that pink shirt fits, but would you like to wear it every day?"
He could see her point. "The craving should subside soon. Meanwhile, I'll get fresh game for you. Come to think of it, I haven't had to hunt for a while. Should be fun."
She shook her head at that, then frowned. "It's still bleeding." She scrambled off the bed. He could hear her rummaging in the adjoining bathroom, and after a few moments, she reappeared with dressings. Neither said anything as she tended to his wound, though he sensed a tension in her. He would wait for her to break the silence.
He didn't have to wait long. Her "thank you" came on the barest breath. "For?"
She waited until she finished with the bandage. "For taking care of me."
"Always."
"And for forgiving me."
"I had no choice." In truth, he didn't.
Her eyes searched his. "Then we'll be okay?"
"Mm-hmm." They would be more than okay, he thought, as he drew her up against him, pressing her body into his chest. What they shared was more than familiar. He knew in his deepest primal instinct their union was part of his destiny. They . . .they were inevitable. Irresistible.
"You know," she said, "there is a beautiful moon out tonight. We should go flying."
The allusion was not wholly lost on him. "Where do you want to go?"
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, giving him a soft peck on the lips. "I don't want to 'go' anywhere." She smiled up at him. "I've just never done it that way before."
=End=