Cherry: Ooh, you readers got lucky this time! I actually added a fourth chapter, mainly in part because the last chappie was a bit short...^ ^; But anyways, I don't know how fast I'll get the upcoming chapters up or if they'll come in threes anymore, since I have so much work to do. but I'll try my damnedest. I promise. BTW, there IS a lemon in this chapter; rape to be precise, so if you don't want to read that sort of thing, skip the ending (the lemon's towards the end).
Kuro: You know the drill; Cherry doesn't own DBZ or any of the affiliated characters.
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The morning seemed to crawl by slowly and uneventfully. Yamcha was too timid to try another covert op to gain himself some ogling time. Bulma seemed to be more suspicious of him and his methods, too. Yamcha did, however, make the unfortunate mistake of reaching out and giving Bulma's ass a quick smack, as he was unable to contain his urges any longer. He didn't fully consider the consequences, thinking that it was only a little tap, and what harm could that cause? Bulma whipped around suddenly, a glare on her face.
"WHAT. WAS. THAT???" she growled, an enraged look plastered across her face.
Yamcha's face paled upon realizing what he had just done.
"I...I...I...well, you see...I...I just couldn't stand it anymore! I HAD to get one smack in…just a little tap...to take down the, you know, tension..."
"Oh? Is that all?" she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Well, then that means it would be okay for me to get one slap in…to, you know, relieve the tension..." she smirked.
Yamcha looked blank for a while, up until the point Bulma hauled off and smacked him, hitting him so hard he toppled off the chair he was sitting on. He stumbled back up, looking surprised and scared.
"Okay...no more of that, 'kay? I'll...I won't do that anymore, I promise! Really...don't hurt me..." he whimpered, cowering miserably. Bulma sighed and sat down.
"Although I am extremely pissed, I think I'll sit down and leave you alone. And you better not do anything like that again or, boy, you will be in a world of hurt. Trust me." she grumbled, giving him a death glare.
He gulped again and nodded numbly, clambering back up into his chair, shaking slightly. He looked over at Bulma, still filled with longing. He would have to be more careful about how he went about things with Bulma. He drummed his fingers against the surface of the table, deep in thought.
"Will you please stop that? It's very annoying." Bulma hissed through clenched teeth.
Yamcha stopped and looked at her. "Sorry." he blushed. He sighed and grinned at her. "Hey, whatcha say that to make up for things, I take ya out to eat?" he shot.
Bulma looked up. "Are you asking me out?"
"W-what? No…I just...well, sorta...I..."
Bulma laughed sharply. "Of course, I'd love to go out to eat. Your treat?"
"Duh!" he laughed, feeling relieved.
She stood up, grabbing her handbag and starting towards the door. Yamcha leapt up and bolted out after her. He barreled out the car and pulled open the door to the driver's side and hoped in. He looked over to Bulma and smirked. He was determined to make things up to her and not screw anything up.
"Where ya wanna go? Somewhere fancy? Cafe? Fast food?"
"Urrrrg. No fast food. It goes straight to my hips. Nothing too fancy, I haven't been feeling too well and plus, I doubt you have that much money."
"Heh. My wallet has no limits for you."
Bulma rolled her eyes and laughed. "I don't know. I suppose we can just head to the local cafe. A cup of coffee and some lemon biscotti sounds nice."
"Hey, anything for you!" he beamed, shifting the car into gear.
He wasn't thrilled by the sound of what people eat at Cafes; he could stand the coffee, but he didn't see what was so great about eating stale, lemon-flavored cookies with it. And for an entire meal? Blah. But he figured he'd suck it up for Bulma; he owed her. He parked outside of the cafe and hopped out of the car. He went around and popped open the passenger side door, helping Bulma out. Her tummy was just starting to dome out, though it wasn't to terribly noticeable. After all, it was only the fourth month.
Yamcha smirked, poking at her stomach.
"Gain a few pounds?" he teased. "Ah, maybe it's just something you ate." he joked, adding in a wink.
"Well, I don't recall ever swallowing a baby..." she teased back, poking him in the ribs.
He smirked and pushed open the door to the cafe. They walked together out to the verandah and sat down at a nice table in the shade.
"But seriously...does it show that much?" Bulma asked, looking down at her belly.
"Nah, not that much." Yamcha said, reaching over and giving her stomach a pat.
Bulma smiled. "Sure. I think it shows, and a lot at that." she muttered. "But I could just be biased."
Yamcha leaned back. "Well, in about five more months, you won't have to worry anymore, now will ya?" he said.
"Yeah..." she said, a faint smile surfacing. She looked down, a frown replacing the smile.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Yamcha asked, looking concerned.
"I just...every time this happens, I have a natural worry...a sort of concern."
"About what?"
"About...everything. The stress, the emotions...this isn't easy! I shouldn't be this way now that I've been through this twice, but I'm not. It seems to be worse when you know what's gonna happen..." she muttered.
Yamcha reached across the table and took Bulma's hand, giving it a small kiss. "I'll be there for you whenever you need it. No question. I promise."
Bulma smiled. She felt better, having some reassurance, even if it was from Yamcha. The waitress finally happened by, looking down at them.
"What will you have today?" she asked kindly.
"Green tea and lemon biscotti for me." Bulma said with a smile.
Yamcha sighed heavily, shivering at the mere mention of the nasty little stale cookies.
"I'm just gonna have a mug of coffee and a jelly donut. I ain't too hungry."
The waitress nodded. "I'll be back in a moment with your order."
Bulma sighed, still looking down at her stomach. "Are you sure it--" she started.
"Yes! It doesn't show that much and you don't look fat, you look fine." he said, rolling his eyes. He glanced over at her. "Stop worrying. What did we just talk about? Chill, 'kay? We'll just eat our paltry little lunch and then get in the car and drive back home. Then we can just lay around and, you know, hang out." he said, trying to calm Bulma down.
The waitress shuffled back, holding a tray with the food on it. She set it down and smirked.
"Here ya go. Hey, mind if I ask you two somethin'?" she inquired.
"Uh..." Yamcha hesitated.
"Sure..." Bulma smiled feebly.
"You two together?" she smiled.
Bulma was silent as she took her tea off the tray, taking a sip. Yamcha smiled, blushing slightly as he chomped on his jelly donut, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
"Well...uh...sorta..." he muttered.
The waitress smiled. "A shy couple, huh? No big. I won't press it." she said, turning around and taking the tray with her as she swaggered back into the cafe.
They ate in silence for most of the time. Yamcha finished his donut, and started on his coffee, which he promptly burned his tongue on. He bit down on his lip to keep from yelping, and blew at the coffee to vainly try and cool it down. Bulma looked up from her tea and swilled her biscotti around in it.
"Burn your tongue?" she catechized.
"I...I...well...Yeah." he muttered under his breath.
She laughed. "Well, don't slog it down so fast, then." she lectured.
He blushed, looking down. There she goes again. Always lecturing, always trying to make me feel bad about myself. Kami, why can't she just leave me alone sometimes?, he brooded, scowling slightly.
"Oh, don't be so sour." she said with a slight smile. "You want to try one of my biscotti?" Bulma inquired, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
Actually, my love, forcing one of those stale little cookies down my throat is the last thing I want to do, but...
"Yeah, sure. Why not?" he muttered. Bulma handed him one of the cookies and he took it, staring at the phallic biscuit. He shivered, chomping down on it and quite nearly breaking a tooth in the process.
"Son of a--" he snapped, yanking the cookie out of his mouth and clamping a hand to his aching jaw. He winced, his eyes watering slightly. "What the hell are in these things? Cement?" he lamented.
Bulma laughed again. "No, no. You're supposed to let them soak in your drink first. They're a bit stiff otherwise." she said in her cute little 'I-know-everything-and-you-are-an-idiot' voice.
Yamcha dipped the cookie in the coffee, letting it grow swollen and mahogany-hued. Sure, point out everything I do wrong and then laugh at me, he moped. You generally warn people about the cookie from hell before they nearly crack a tooth on it.
He had started the day so happy and now... He couldn't quite explain why he was getting so snappy. Perhaps it was the fact of the upcoming arrival. The 'little accident' that he had feared would happen each time he and Bulma had made careless love with caution thrown to the wind. Ironically, he had only worried when they were together, and nothing had happened. But now that they split, his worst fear had become confirmed. If this had happened when they were together, they would probably have never broken up. We wouldn't have been able to. The baby would have taken priority. But no, it had to happen now, he groused. He took a bite out of the now softened cookie and instantly regretted it. It was the most disgusting thing he had ever had. It was like stale lemons and old coffee, the kind that had been sitting for days on end and had time to grow thick and syrupy. He shoved the entire thing into his mouth and swallowed it quickly. He frowned, shivering slightly.
"Don't like it?" Bulma asked.
"Blah." he muttered, swigging down his coffee.
Bulma sniggered. "Ah, I suppose it's an acquired taste." she remarked.
Yamcha scowled and then forced a smile. "Yeah, it's a taste I don't think I'll be acquiring for quite some time." he muttered.
They ate the rest of their meal in silence, for the most part, Yamcha searching his thoughts, griping silently, and Bulma obsessing to herself about the baby that was coming. She stared wistfully off into space, sighing every once and awhile. The waitress, a different one this time (thank Kami) came by and deposited the tab. Yamcha set down the cash and tucked a tip under his coffee mug and stood up stiffly. He turned around and waited for Bulma as she staggered up, her slender hand seeking his own.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked, tugging at his hand.
"Nothing." he snapped. "I'm just a little stressed, that's all." he finished.
"Don't I know it." she said.
No, you know nothing about it. That is precisely the problem, he mentally grumbled. But he was smart and kept his mouth shut, opening up the car door for Bulma, and then walking around and getting in himself. He turned the key in the ignition, starting up the car. They drove home in silence, Yamcha gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned an ivory white.
~*~
Bulma stepped out of the car cautiously, looking nervously at Yamcha. He had been acting strangely, and maybe half of it was her fault. He was a little unstable at times... She followed him inside, stepping through the door just in time to see him stalk off. She figured she'd distance herself and give him some space. He'd come around by supper. He always did...
Tonight he didn't. He moped around the house all day, or hid up in his room. As for supper, the meal was pretty much non-existent. Bulma rummaged around for something to eat, but found nothing of interest, not to mention she was feeling queasy again. She snuck down the hall to Yamcha's room and gently pushed open his bedroom door. He was sitting curled up on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chin. He glared daggers at Bulma the moment he caught sight of her.
"Hey." she said, smiling weakly in an attempt to cheer him up.
She was met with a cold glare. "What are you smiling at? Go away." he snapped.
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? You look so down." she said sadly, scuffing her toe into the carpet.
Yamcha's lips curved up into a smile. "Actually," he smirked. "there may be something you can do... It would really cheer me up."
Bulma stepped back nervously. The grin he had on wasn't a sweet, stupid smile; no, it was a twisted leer. It wasn't even Yamcha's usual perverted 'hentai' grin. It was a sinister smirk. He reached out his hand and cupped one of her breast, a hungry sneer on his face.
"See, I'm feeling much better now..." he said huskily.
Bulma slapped him in the face. Hard. And stomped on his foot.
"Hentai! " she barked. Yamcha didn't shrink away and cower like usual, instead, he stayed his ground. He turned his head back to face her and let his grin fall into an emotionless frown. He raised his own hand and slapped her back, knocking her down against the wall. He growled, standing over her.
"Don't rob me of this...everyone takes away my happiness..." he rasped. He began to fumble with his buckle, slipping his belt off and tossing it behind him. He began to work on his zipper, growling as the metal teeth stuck and refused to budge.
"Yamcha...what are you doing?" Bulma whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
He forced the zipper open and unbuttoned his pants, working them down so that they hung rumpled around his ankles. A bulge pressing against his shorts gave away just what he wanted. He was all business, no silly smile or stupid blush. This was no joke.
"I'm doing something I should have done in the beginning." he murmured, dropping his shorts.
He was on her in an instant, reaching his hand up her dress and pulling away her panties. He forced her legs apart and stared hungrily at her quivering pink entrance for a moment before forcing in his swollen member, fueled solely by the penned up want that plagued his psyche. He bucked his hips violently, tearing the tender flesh of her opening. His nails dug deep ruts into her shoulders, and he pressed his mouth against hers, swallowing up her pained cries with a kiss so forceful it bruised her lips. He pulled away, licking her cheek like a crazed animal before dropping his face to her breasts.
"Beauty…you are my beauty…" he murmured.
Bulma screamed, feeling terrified, violated and betrayed. The one person she could trust had sunk lower than the one she had just fled. She beat at his head with both of her fists; all the while tears rolling down her face as she pled for mercy.
"Yamcha...please...stop! Stop! You're hurting...you're hurting me! Ow! Please just...stop...stop..." she choked, sobbing loudly.
~*~
Bulma's cries reached the depths of Yamcha's mind, pulling him back to his senses. He looked up into her eyes. They were so full of fear, so full of sorrow... As he gazed into her tear-soaked eyes, he caught his own lusty, violent stare reflected in her azure irises. He stopped immediately, his hands shaking. He drew out and toppled backward, the reality of what he had just done sinking in. He grabbed his shorts and pulled them on, reaching up and grabbing his jacket off the edge of the bed. He crawled over and sat by Bulma, putting his arm around her shoulders. Unlike he had expected, she didn't flinch or yell, she just sat there crying. She actually leaned against him, cuddling close.
"I'm sorry...so sorry...I just don't know what happened to me...I...I..." he trailed off, his own tears running down his face. She embraced him tightly, letting him know he was already forgiven.
"It's okay...it will be okay. You're you now. You're back. Let's just forget..." she whispered sadly.
Yamcha nodded and wrapped his jacket around the both of them and dozed off, holding his one true love as they fell asleep, backs against the cool wall.
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Cherry: Yeah, this chapter started funny and amusing, but then it got sort of...dark and angry. Rape, violence.....why must such happy things end this way? At least the ending was sort of okay. I'll write more soon! Until next time, ja ne!