What do you get when you cross an owl and a bungee cord?
…
My ass.
~
The Morning After!!
Bright early morning sunlight streamed through the window, assaulting Bulma's eyelids. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and turned her head away from the encroaching light. A dull throbbing in her head pushed her further down the road towards consciousness, and a faint rumbling echoed through her ear, which was pressed against a smooth, sound-conducing surface.
The sound came again, and the surface her head was resting on shuffled, and turned slightly, bringing her to full awareness. Taking what she considered to be a great risk, she opened her eyes slowly.
A round, pink nipple appeared in her vision. Gasping, she glanced upwards.
Vegeta's nipple.
She let out a fierce cry and arched backwards, away from the man that had his arm about her waist. Now also startled awake, Vegeta sat up sharply, knocking an already off-balance Bulma off the table, where they had seemingly spent the night. The aliens lone weight on one side of the unsturdy piece of furniture caused the table to tip over.
Now both on the floor, panting and staring at the ceiling, the two shell-shocked sufferers of massive hangovers attempted to gain a grasp on the previous nights happenings. Bulma's mouth worked wordlessly, trying desperately to form words.
"Oh my freaking G-d Vegeta. Oh my freaking G-d," was all she could manage, and she repeated the phrase another eight times, for effect. She glanced over timidly at the Saiyan, only to find a table on it's side in between them. Gaining some composure, she looked around and quickly found her articles of clothing scattered about on the floor. Pulling the wrinkled dress over her head, Bulma didn't even bother with undergarments as she slowly stood, her mind reeling with pain and shock as she leaned heavily on the wall.
"Would you care to tell me just what happened last night?" Came Vegeta's quiet voice from where he was still positioned on the floor.
"Good heavens Vegeta, I think that the soreness I feel and I'm sure you do too should answer your question. Not to mention the fact that I woke up naked with you on the table." He hissed and stood to pull on his boxers before turning a heated glare on her.
"Bitch. Is that how you humans take a mate? Drug them and steal their virginity?" His look shone of pure disgust, and she nearly recoiled from that venomous glare.
"Come on now Vegeta, you couldn't have possibly been a virgin…" she released a wide-eyed gasp as a hand wrapped around her throat, pushing her against the wall. He moved so…fast.
"Are you accusing me of whoring around like your pathetic species? I swear if you are…"
"I didn't think it was that offensive to you. Gods Vegeta…" She ground out between gasps for air, which was now a precious commodity. He growled and stepped away, releasing her throat. She took a few deep steadying breaths as her eyes pierced his with decided uncertainty. "And I didn't drug you, usually a human can withstand a few beers before they get bitchin' drunk like you did. Just goes to prove how different your anatomy is, I guess. And as for stealing virginity, you took mine too, if it makes you happy. Always kept Yamcha from really committing to me, he wanted the whole package no obligation. Bulma Briefs doesn't work that way." His look was one of puzzlement, but at least the writhing anger was gone.
Gathering the rest of his clothing in thoughtful silence, Vegeta retired from the kitchen, leaving Bulma to clean their mess. She stuck her tongue out at his back, not liking the job he left her with.
A short twenty minutes later and Bulma was trudging painfully upstairs to shower. She unconsciously stuck up her nose as she passed her houseguest's room. Oh sure, just go and act like it was her fault they banged. Men. Typical.
She was torn between a cold shower to ease her hangover, or a hot shower, to ease aching muscles. After much deliberation she decided on a hot one, resolving to take some migraine medication when she got out.
The steaming water eased her body, but put no restraints on her racing mind. Were they supposed to just brush off the situation with never a backward glance? She didn't suppose that anyone needed to know, not really. They had some drinks, they made mistakes, surely at the time it was fun. She cringed at the large blank space in her memory. How in all eight hells had it even led to that? Great gods, she'd been drunk before. She and Yamcha together had been quite smashed. And still nothing had resulted.
Why was last night different?
Of course, Vegeta probably had no reservations about taking advantage of her. Right?
His reaction to her earlier statements nagged though, and she couldn't help but have serious doubts about that theory. He was the one that seemed to be having a cow over the situation. But why? Why why why? Why seemed to be the pervading question.
Why was he so upset about some alcohol-induced one-night stand? Why did she care? If he had been a virgin, then there was no risk of getting some foul disease. Assuming that he wasn't lying about that particular fact. Not to mention that she was at the lowest point of fertility in her cycle…pregnancy was a small worry.
One way or another, she really needed to talk to him. Get to the bottom of things. And she'd be damned if she thought it would be easy.
~
He stopped himself just short of slamming his bedroom door, not really in the mood to be bitched at more about destroying her property. Damn her. Damn her all to hell. Damn.
He stalked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water for a shower, and cursed as the liquid scalded his hand. Damn.
How had things come to this? How could some pathetic human beverage affect him so easily? So thoroughly. She had effectively just screwed him over for life. Damn.
But surely such basely instinctual things wouldn't take effect with another species…He hoped…
He had long ago written himself off as 'single, not looking'. Surely no one with half a heart in their chests would allow him anything more than lukewarm feelings. Only someone with as much blood on their hands would look at him twice. And they probably thought the same of themselves anyhow. He chastised himself silently for rambling. Damn.
Saiyajin were a dedicated lot, and generaly set themselves wholeheartedly after something they needed, or wanted. Perhaps since he was determined to ignore it, the singing of his blood when he was near her would just leave, or at least pipe down. If his concentration failed he could feel a vague pull towards her, almost irresistible. Almost.
Double damn.
He could hardly tolerate the woman! And only then when she was up for a rousing argument. He had never even looked at ther in that way. It had been long since he had looked at any female in that way. Had he ever since his adolescent days, when Frieza had first found need to kill all emotion in him? He shied away from those thoughts, those memories, and turned the water off just as it began to run cold. Damn.
His scowl deepened severely as he climbed from the shower and began toweling off, muscles in his lower back protesting adamantly.
Damn.
~
Whew…things are getting interesting. I really need to work on some other fics…Like poor Perfum N 18! So neglected!
