What was happening to Bulma?!! Well read on and find out….. :P hehe
Chapter SevenBulma had worked diligently all day, instructing workers on what to do and where to be. The heat was exhausting and she was glad that their work was done for today. After straightening her ponytail and adjusting her baseball cap she headed down the street towards the building where Trunks was working. As she approached she heard shouting. Her pace quickened then was stopped abruptly by a smash and a shower of glass cascading onto the pavement in front of her. Bulma raised her arms to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked towards the top of the building to see the cause of the commotion. She was just in time to catch sight of Trunks flying from view at a tremendous rate. "Trunks?!" He did not reply. He looks like he's in pursuit of someone…? Worry flowed through her body at the sight of her son once again appearing to fly off into danger, but she knew there was nothing she could do. She simply sighed, gathered her tools, and took off for home in their helicopter to await his return.
It felt good to be home. Storm clouds began to gather outside casting a dark shadow across the bedroom from through the window. Bulma switched on her bedside lamp and slipped off her boots with a pleasurable groan. All she wanted right now was to take a shower and rid herself of the grime from her days work. Her bedroom smelled stale and stuffy due to the intense heat of the day and her bed creaked as she perched on the end and stretched her arms. Humming softly to herself she removed her trousers and her shirt; a subtle distraction from the worry that grew in her heart for her son. A sudden sound from down the hallway caused her stop in her tracks. Leaning forward slightly she tried to analyse the sound. Movement in the bathroom? Slowly she pulled out a t-shirt from her drawer and slipped it on. Trunks would have let me know he was back, so who the hell is in my house? With tentative steps Bulma began to make her way down the hallway towards the bathroom, a scowl creasing her aging brow. She could see the light was on and a shadow danced beyond the slightly ajar door. Every now and again a groan or muffled murmur could be heard along with the opening of cabinet doors and the turning on of taps.
The corridor shimmered with every step closer she took. Beneath her feet the scuffed aged floor smoothed and began to shine as new. Ripples danced on the walls as the faded and cracked paint spread bright and clean making the corridor seem warm and fresh; something it had not been for many years now. Aging reversed all around her but Bulma had not perceived any of it, her mind focused on the intruder in her bathroom. She approached the door and paused for an intake of breath, furrowing her brow in anger that someone would break into her home. Simultaneously she slammed the door open and shouted inside, "Who is in there?" It was a deep voice that replied, "Who else would it be, woman?"
"Vegeta?" She ventured with timid disbelief. Then she sighed deeply with relief, raising her hand to her breast, and then laughed at herself for being so foolish. "Damnit Vegeta you scared the shit out of me! Can't you announce when you come in? I thought someone had broken into our home." Vegeta stopped looking through the cabinet and tuned to face her, his body covered in sweat and blood. His training shorts were torn and the bottom of the right leg revealing a large burn from an energy blast. His usually stylised spiky hair was tussled and parts were matted against his forehead by the seeping blood that had dried from yet more cuts caused by his general routine of training. He smiled and his eyes glinted like a hungry dog at the vision of his wife standing before him in nothing but a tiny t-shirt and little pair of panties. Bulma sauntered over to him at the sink and traced the middle finger of her right hand slowly along a scar on his left pectoral, "Everyday you come back to me with more cuts and bruises." Vegeta softly ran his large fingers along her forearm and held her hand tightly against his chest, looking at her with those same dark and playful eyes. He snaked his right arm across her buttocks and pulled her in tightly for a passionate kiss. She giggled and then pulled away playfully, "eww, you're all covered in blood and sweat! Ugh and now so am I…" She turned around with her back to him and started to wash her hands of his bodily fluids.
"Well I had just come to take a shower. Now you can join me," he spoke as he reached across with his right hand and turned on the shower, then tested the temperature of the water. He returned his attention to his still forward facing wife and slid his dry hand along her left buttock. "You're always frisky when you've been training," she purred as Vegeta drew his body close to hers and pushed her hair and head forward with his wet right hand causing droplets of water to fall onto and trace the back of her neck. Bulma chuckled and shuddered at the cold sensation of the water drops and then sighed deeply while he wrapped his left arm around her waist and caressed her breasts through her t-shirt. She felt his warm breath on her neck as he leaned in and collected every fallen droplet with his tongue then turned them into sensual kisses. The passion intensity grew and he rhythmically pressed his ardently firm groin against her buttocks. Bulma bit her lower lip in arousal as she leaned over the sink unit and Vegeta continued to kiss and nip the back of her neck, clenching her hair in his paw of a right hand.
The shower continued to run and the bath began to fill, the steam circulating the bathroom and smoking up the mirror. Vegeta turned Bulma round to face him and their passionate embrace continued through deep kisses. He reached down and raised her right leg to wrap around his waist, grasping firmly at her thigh. She loved the feel of his arms holding her tightly and she ran her nails down his back whilst grabbing tight to handfuls of his head hair. He moved onto her neck again as he pressed against her once more. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back in pleasure. Vegeta glanced into the steamed mirror in front of him and it shimmed a deep black. A iniquitous grin grew across his face and his eyes clouded a milky white. Bulma had submitted herself to him completely and she continued to groan with pleasure as he slipped his hand from under her t-shirt and traced it up along her chest towards her neck, all the while keeping his head nuzzled into her shoulder.
His thumb rubbed against her throat whilst he spoke softly to her, "Bulma?" she replied with a small "hmm?" and then proceeded to caress her raised inside thigh against the side of his body. She began to feel a little dizzy and felt as if something was not quite right. She pushed the thought aside and just figured it was the hot steam from the shower causing her to be light-headed. Then her airflow constricted. Vegeta's caress had quickly turned into a painfully tight grip around her throat. She bucked and croaked, "Vegeta…what are you doing?!" His head snapped up from her neck to in front of her face. Horrified by the sight she attempted to scream. His white eyes bore into her fearful ones and his wide maniacal grin unnerved her deeply. Panic took her as she clawed desperately at his hands, trying to make him release her. With his tight grip he violently spun her from the counter and thrust her into the bathwater headfirst, cracking her shoulder on the tub. She kicked fiercely trying to free herself, her shoulder throbbing and pressure building in her ears from the water. As she stared wildly through the thrashing surface of the water all she could see was the white of his eyes and the white of his wide toothy grin. Bulma tried not to breath so she wouldn't inhale the water but her lungs burned in desperation for air. Her tears began to flow into the bathwater and she could feel her body begin to give in. She was drowning. Her limbs felt light and weak and her eyes began to close. The pain grew in her chest and she knew she had not long left. Then suddenly the grip was gone. She gave herself no time to question the cause and with a final reserve of strength she hauled herself from out of the bath and vomited up the water from her lungs, breathing deeply but rapidly. I'm still alive. She wept as she choked and then anger began to build. Never in her entire life has she allowed herself to be a victim and she wasn't about to start now. When she finally looked up she saw the cause of her release, then her anger rapidly dissipated and her body suddenly felt weak. Her mouth gaped as fresh tears began to fall.
Floating in the doorway was the ghost of Vegeta, his face contorted with anger and his hand stretched before him still smoking from an energy blast. Shuffling came from the floor and then a hand grabbed the side of the tub causing Bulma to start. The hand then became and entire body as another Vegeta unsteadily picked himself up from the floor. It was the one who had tried to kill her. Half his head had been blasted away to reveal a simmering silhouette of black flame licking around his wounded façade. The other half of his head retained the wild white eye. The ghost slowly floated toward the fake and grabbed him by the throat, "How dare you use my wife to feed from!" He raised his hand in front of the fakes chest and released a controlled yet violent ki blast. Instinctively Bulma ducked down into the bathwater to avoid the blast. A high-pitched demonic scream tore through the bathroom causing the mirror to shatter as the blast vaporised the fake Vegeta, then all went quiet. Once again surfacing it was then that Bulma noticed the bathroom once again looked as it was supposed to and not as it did fifteen years ago, which it had done only five minutes before. Vegeta scowled and dusted a hand over his ethereal Saiyajin uniform then he turned and held out a hand to help his wife from the bathtub. She accepted and climbed out, soaked to the bone and her neck bruised. He looked at her and his scowl faded, just as it always did when they were alone. Unexpectedly he embraced her and Bulma could hold back her sobs no more, "Vegeta…"
A loud crash came from her bedroom as a panicked Trunks arrived home, "MOTHER!?" Vegeta glanced behind him towards the hallway then he turned to face his crying Bulma. He rubbed away a tear with his thumb and then laid a gentle kiss upon her lips as he disappeared. The ghost of his kiss was warm and sweet, then dissipated into a soothing chill. Her stomach fluttered with memories of when he was alive and made her face flood with tears all the more. Trunks ran into the bathroom, his eyes wide with horror at the sight of his weeping soaked and bruised mother, their battered and soaked bathroom, and their broken mirror. All at once a million terrible things entered his mind as to what had happened as he ran to her and held her as she cried. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here quicker!..." he croaked through sobs of his own at leaving his mother and falling into such an obvious trap. She spoke through her sobs, her words quiet and filled with disbelief, "Vegeta came…he came and saved me…" Her heart suffered as she now relived the pain of his death all over again, it was almost more than she could bear. Why did you have to die? Why did you leave me? Trunks clutched his mother tightly and hatred burned in his red trimmed eyes as he vowed to himself to destroy this new evil.
