Disclaimer: See chapter one
A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews. Here's the next installment!
A Tail Tale Chapter Seven
He could not get her out of his mind.
Vegeta trained at an intense level even for him, pushing mind and body to their limits. Sweat poured off him as he executed kata after kata, blast after blast, in 350x gravity. But no matter what he did, he could not get her face out of his head, or her scent out of his nostrils.
It was just a damn kiss!
So many years of hate and rage had burned well-worn pathways through his brain. These other emotions struggling to be realized had to fight through old paths unused for years. He barely recognized them, and didn't know what to do with them. The taste of her blood lingered in his mouth, almost intoxicating. He had known, intellectually, of the importance of blood to his people. He had never till now understood some of the full ramifications of that.
Sharing blood was an intimacy reserved for mates. Vegeta knew that it had simply been her inexperience with fangs, but still he could not shake the heady sensations it had stirred in him.
No small part of him wished he could declare her training done and get as far away from her as possible. But his pride would not let him settle for halfway, and he knew damn well that he still had a lot left to show her - especially with tonight being the full moon. And a traitorous portion of his soul, a portion he had long thought dead and gone, yearned for more contact.
It could not be. He had no wish for a mate, no matter how intelligent, beautiful, feisty - he snarled wordlessly - no matter WHO she was. This yearning was lust and nothing more; it had been too long since he had had a woman, and the fact that it was his first time exposed in his own maturity to a saiyan female was exacerbating the whole situation.
Besides, she was human born and still knew nothing of their ways. She would never pursue him, nor initiate a courtship chase, nor accept the ritual presentation of a kill. That soothed his ruffled feathers somewhat. No matter what happened, they would not be joined in the saiyan way, and he would never pursue her in human fashion.
His stomach voiced a loud complaint that echoed off the walls of the GR. With a slight grunt, Vegeta powered down and reset the gravity to earth's standard. He opened the door, wondering briefly where he would get tonight's meal. Was there food in that peculiar capsule house, or would he need to hunt again?
"Vegeta!" The woman's voice assaulted his ears as he stepped out into the afternoon sun. He looked up, startled, to see the wench floating a bit unsteadily above him.
"Told you I'd figure it out!" she shouted cockily down to him, hovering in place with a slight whitish aura around her. He admitted privately that he was impressed - it was astonishing how quickly she picked up ki techniques.
"Too bad you still can't throw a decent punch, woman!"
Not that she needed to know that, of course.
Bulma landed a bit hard, scowling at him. Her tail was bristled with agitation and flicking sharply back and forth like an irritated cat's. He smirked.
"You could at least say good job, Vegeta!" she snapped grumpily.
"Good job, Vegeta," he sneered, watching her face turn the color of a ripe - what was that odd fruit? - tomato. But the twin grumbling sounds as two saiyan stomachs protested being empty forestalled the brewing cacophony. Bulma sweat-dropped, and Vegeta shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"There's food in the house," Bulma said, shooting him an unreadable look. "Pre-made, so you can't complain about my cooking for once."
"I wouldn't complain if you made something edible," he shot back, following her into the capsule house. She had no reply except to stick out her tongue at him.
"Don't stick that out at me unless you intend to use it, woman," Vegeta enjoyed the mortified look that spread across her face.
"Sorry, already did that once today." Her reply was haughty despite her obvious embarrassment. Then she started placing food on the table, cutting off the verbal sparring match. They ate in silence, looking at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. When the meal was done Vegeta cleared his throat.
"Can that mini-cap thing of yours get me something from your dwelling?"
"Sure can," Bulma replied proudly. "What do you need?" She enjoyed showing off her creations.
"Two pairs of the armour I brought with me," came the curt reply. Wondering what he was up to, she went out and spoke with her father on the communicator, then sent off the mini-cap.
"It should be here within the hour," she told her somber faced companion, and headed towards the bathroom. Her muscles would appreciate a long hot soak.
But Vegeta stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
"Don't get comfortable yet, woman. Training is not done for the day."
"WHAT? Vegeta, I'm tired, I'm dirty, I'm smelly, I don't want to do anything else today!"
"I didn't say you had a choice, woman." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You can soak yourself into a damn raisin later."
"You can't stop me!" The moment the words were out of her mouth she was aware how ridiculous they sounded. Vegeta just smirked.
"I can blow up the bathing chamber, woman. Then you can bathe in the cold stream outside for the rest of our time here."
"You wouldn't dare!" she gasped, and knew from his expression that he certainly WOULD dare. Defeated, she retired grumbling to the kitchen and sat sipping a cup of hot chocolate quite sulkily. She studiously ignored Vegeta except to huffily toss him the capsule with the armour when the mini- cap arrived.
He vanished into his room and emerged a few minutes later clad in one set and holding the other.
"Put it on," he ordered gruffly, tossing it to her. Bulma caught it and gave him an incredulous look. "You know it will fit you, woman, weren't you the one making all that noise over the unstable molecule design?"
"I know it'll fit! I want to know WHY I have to put it on!"
"Because," he replied, "I said so." She opened her mouth to yell - and he raised a glowing hand in the direction of the bathroom. His meaning was obvious. Swearing under her breath, Bulma stormed into her room, stripped off the gi Piccolo had created for her, and pulled on the armour. It smelled of Vegeta, and when she caught her tail curling and uncurling happily at said scent, she wrapped it firmly around her waist.
He gave her a once over as she came out of the room, and nodded in approval. Vegeta motioned towards the door and followed her out of the capsule house.
"Follow me," he said simply, and rose into the air. Bulma followed, her flight surprisingly steady, and they rocketed eastward. They didn't say a word to each other the entire way. To both their surprise, she had no trouble keeping up with his rapid speed despite their vast difference in power levels. Not that either one mentioned it, of course.
They eventually came to land in a rocky area filled with mesas and valleys. Bulma looked around, puzzled, noting that some of the rocks looked as if they had been blasted apart. Understanding dawned.
"Isn't this where you fought Goku for the first time?" she asked, breaking her self-imposed ban on speaking to him. He nodded once, his eyes on the horizon. She followed his gaze, but saw nothing.
"Vegeta, what are we doing here?" she complained.
"Be silent, woman." He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. Vegeta really wasn't one for meditation, but he knew it would annoy her. "We have a little time yet. Sit down, close your eyes, and be silent."
Trying not to let him succeed in getting a rise out of her, Bulma did as he said. If he was annoyed, he showed no sign. They sat in silence as the sun sank below the horizon and the shadows lengthened across the earth.
A tap on one of her knees made Bulma open her eyes. Vegeta was looking at her, his tail poised to tap her again if she did not respond. On seeing her eyes open, he withdrew it.
"There is a full moon tonight," he said in a low voice.
For a moment she did not understand. Then memories of Pilaf's prison chamber and Goku's first Tenchi Budokai came to mind. Nameless dread filled her, and she clapped both hands over her eyes and threw herself face first onto the ground.
"Woman, what are you DOING?" demanded Vegeta, exasperated.
"No way!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled. "I don't want to! You can't make me! I'm NOT going to be some giant rampaging ape!" Now he did roll his eyes, and picked her up by the arms. She stubbornly kept her eyes tightly closed.
"Woman, you cannot be a saiyan without experiencing this. The Oozaru is as much a part of our nature as fighting. It is something to be -" he hesitated, '-enjoyed, not feared."
"Tell that to Goku. He killed his grandpa as that ooza-whatever." He growled lightly and gave her a slight shake.
"Kakkarot is not normal, woman. Had Vegeta-sei not been -" the prince paused for less than a heartbeat, "-destroyed, his father would eventually have come to retrieve him. He would have been taught to control the Oozaru state."
She still refused to look at him. But Vegeta would not be so easily thwarted.
"I can teach you, woman, tonight, how to control yourself in that form. Or are you going to keep your eyes closed like a coward? Will you refuse to learn and some night accidentally look upon the moon and kill all those around you?"
"No!" Bulma opened her eyes and found herself less than an inch from Vegeta's face. His mouth curled into a smirk.
"Good." He let her go and paced several steps away. "The moon is up. Do not look on it until I give the word." A feral grin, the first she had ever seen, crossed his face. "I will go first."
And he looked up into the night sky at the glorious full moon. Bulma looked on, trembling, as his back stiffened and his eyes went crimson. Vegeta began to change rapidly, and in moments the spiky-maned giant ape towered over her, still clothed in the armour. Now she knew why he had made her put it on.
She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run for her life as Vegeta-oozaru turned his gaze down to her.
"IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG," he said in a louder and deeper voice. Of course, it was coming from a much larger chest cavity. "YOU CAN LOOK NOW, WOMAN."
Bulma licked her lips nervously, and slowly, slowly, turned her gaze towards the moon. For a moment nothing occurred, and she wondered if perhaps he was wrong and it would not work.
Then a sensation like a bolt of lightning striking jolted through her body. Her heart began to hammer loudly in her chest, and all her joints locked. A snarl forced itself from her lips and a burning fury exploded in her brain, wiping out all conscious thought.
Vegeta stepped back to give her room as her transformation proceeded. He waited, huge tail lashing, as Bulma-oozaru roared her fury to the night sky. She was an interesting sight. Like all females, her form was nowhere near as bulky as a male oozaru, and her muzzle somewhat shorter as well. On top of that, her fur was the same odd coloration as her tail, a deep blue that all but glowed in the moonlight.
Eyes red and mad, she turned to look at him and roared in challenge. He laughed to himself and braced for her charge. There was not a hint of thought in those eyes. Now to bring her out of it.
He met her charge squarely and twisted his muzzle out of her reach as she attempted to slash him with her fangs. They grappled back and forth as she tried her best to savage him and he to get her in a secure hold. This was why Oozaru training was one of the first things a young saiyan was exposed to; without it they would blindly attack anything and anyone, friend or foe.
He was far stronger than she, and eventually he managed what he was aiming for. He wrapped his own long arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides, his chest to her back, and sat down with a crash that shook the landscape. She was unable to get out of this grip, nor use any of her weapons on him. Ignoring the roars and growls of fury, Vegeta began a purr so deep it was almost subsonic. This was a very specific noise, one that cut through layers of animal fury and projected calm into the furthest reaches of the mind.
In fact, it was the purr that under normal circumstances a saiyan would be exposed to immediately after birth, either from mother or father or, if they were being sent on a purging mission, from speakers installed in the space pod. Despite being born human, Bulma's saiyan instincts were geared to respond to it. Slowly, her snarls and struggles stopped. Vegeta continued to purr as she gradually relaxed.
Bulma didn't know when it had happened, but suddenly she was sitting on the ground with Vegeta purring at her back - and holding her in such a way that it was all but impossible to move.
"VEGETA?" she said, and her voice startled her. She managed to look down, and her eyes widened at the sight of her fur-covered body. The sound she made was as close to a squeak as a giant ape could produce. The saiyan behind her stopped purring and growled a laugh. He let her go and she scrambled awkwardly to her feet. It was disorienting to see the world like this. She looked at Vegeta in astonishment, now that she could meet his slightly glowing red eyes.
"I TOLD YOU, WOMAN," he said smugly.
~~~
Bulma was not happy to find out she had to stay in this 'oozaru' form until the moon went down. After much whining on her part, Vegeta reluctantly agreed to allow her time to bathe and sleep tomorrow, rather than continuing with training immediately.
"FINE, WOMAN! I WILL HAVE TIME TO TRAIN MYSELF, THEN, RATHER THAN WASTE IT ON YOU."
Bulma-oozaru grinned in triumph, but before she could say anything the last bit of the moon finally slipped below the skyline. Both saiyans began to dwindle and change, until they stood on the plain once again in humanoid form. Vegeta stretched and looked pleased; Bulma collapsed.
He looked at her with one eyebrow raised as she sat up rather dizzily.
"Sorry," she grimaced. "For some reason - that took a lot out of me."
"It was your first transformation, woman," he replied, wrapping his tail around his waist. "The next time you will be energized, not tired."
She tried to get up, and after several failed attempts managed it. Her aura flared about her and she rose into the air. Less than five feet above the ground, said aura sputtered and died. She landed unceremoniously and looked embarrassed. Bulma sheepishly realized she was too worn out to fly.
Vegeta realized the same thing. With an extremely put-upon look on his face, he picked her up and rose into the air.
"Thanks, Vegeta."
He just grunted.
Bulma leaned her head against him, enjoying the ride. Usually she was terrified when carried, but not anymore. Not after having flown herself. The thoughts she'd had on the shore yesterday came unbidden to her mind, and she blushed slightly at how much she appreciated being held close to him.
Another idea came to mind right on the heels of the first. Was Vegeta really so impossible? His behavior toward her had bordered on gentle of late - at least when he thought she wasn't paying attention - and she knew he was at least somewhat attracted to her.
Maybe, maybe. Bulma licked her lips nervously, and asked,
"Vegeta?"
"What now, woman?"
"Why not relax with me today instead?"
He almost dropped her in disbelief. Fortunately his self control was so great that 'almost dropped' for him meant all she noticed was a tensing of his muscles.
"Why the hell would I do that woman?"
Bulma persevered. He hadn't threatened her or rejected the offer out of hand, exactly.
"You've been awake for hours, too. And you trained so hard yesterday - even for you, I mean." She caught his glance. "Of course I noticed, you big oaf!" The blue haired saiyan experimentally touched his neck and shoulders. "You're all knotted up. Tell you what - we both get cleaned up and catch a few hours sleep, and then I'll give you a massage to get all those knots out of your back. What do you say?"
Vegeta was sorely tempted. Trying to train any further without rest and food would probably do more damage than good at this point. Before he could stop to think of the possible ways this could be a bad idea, his traitorous mouth replied,
"Fine, woman."
And when she squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek, he was too busy trying to convince himself that he did NOT like it that he did not take back his agreement.
There was the usual argument back at the capsule house over who got to bathe first, but since Bulma knew how to get the pre-made food ready for eating, she won that one. Frankly, it came down to either he let her go first or he would have to a) figure out the food himself or b) go hunting again. With ill grace, Vegeta conceded the bathroom to her.
When they had both bathed and consumed far more food than any human could possibly match in one sitting, Bulma yawned and headed for her bedroom. A few hours sleep before giving Vegeta his massage would do her a world of good. She was stopped at the door, however, by a snide remark from said saiyan prince.
"Try to remain in your own bed this time, woman."
Her tail bristled and her glare would have peeled paint off a house. He merely smirked back at her as he headed for his own room. But she was, if nothing else, quick on her mental feet. Smirking in her own right, she shook her head with mock dismay.
"I don't know, Vegeta. It'll be hard to get to sleep without you purring for me like you did the last two nights in a row." And she slammed the door on his startled and vaguely mortified expression. Inside the room, she performed her own silent rendition of a touchdown dance. Point for her!
Vegeta ran through the six quickest ways to kill her before deciding it wasn't worth the hassle. Besides, if she was dead, he wouldn't get his massage - and who would he have to argue with? Wondering when killing her had gone from 'when' to 'if'; he threw himself down on the bed for a well- deserved rest.
A Tail Tale Chapter Seven
He could not get her out of his mind.
Vegeta trained at an intense level even for him, pushing mind and body to their limits. Sweat poured off him as he executed kata after kata, blast after blast, in 350x gravity. But no matter what he did, he could not get her face out of his head, or her scent out of his nostrils.
It was just a damn kiss!
So many years of hate and rage had burned well-worn pathways through his brain. These other emotions struggling to be realized had to fight through old paths unused for years. He barely recognized them, and didn't know what to do with them. The taste of her blood lingered in his mouth, almost intoxicating. He had known, intellectually, of the importance of blood to his people. He had never till now understood some of the full ramifications of that.
Sharing blood was an intimacy reserved for mates. Vegeta knew that it had simply been her inexperience with fangs, but still he could not shake the heady sensations it had stirred in him.
No small part of him wished he could declare her training done and get as far away from her as possible. But his pride would not let him settle for halfway, and he knew damn well that he still had a lot left to show her - especially with tonight being the full moon. And a traitorous portion of his soul, a portion he had long thought dead and gone, yearned for more contact.
It could not be. He had no wish for a mate, no matter how intelligent, beautiful, feisty - he snarled wordlessly - no matter WHO she was. This yearning was lust and nothing more; it had been too long since he had had a woman, and the fact that it was his first time exposed in his own maturity to a saiyan female was exacerbating the whole situation.
Besides, she was human born and still knew nothing of their ways. She would never pursue him, nor initiate a courtship chase, nor accept the ritual presentation of a kill. That soothed his ruffled feathers somewhat. No matter what happened, they would not be joined in the saiyan way, and he would never pursue her in human fashion.
His stomach voiced a loud complaint that echoed off the walls of the GR. With a slight grunt, Vegeta powered down and reset the gravity to earth's standard. He opened the door, wondering briefly where he would get tonight's meal. Was there food in that peculiar capsule house, or would he need to hunt again?
"Vegeta!" The woman's voice assaulted his ears as he stepped out into the afternoon sun. He looked up, startled, to see the wench floating a bit unsteadily above him.
"Told you I'd figure it out!" she shouted cockily down to him, hovering in place with a slight whitish aura around her. He admitted privately that he was impressed - it was astonishing how quickly she picked up ki techniques.
"Too bad you still can't throw a decent punch, woman!"
Not that she needed to know that, of course.
Bulma landed a bit hard, scowling at him. Her tail was bristled with agitation and flicking sharply back and forth like an irritated cat's. He smirked.
"You could at least say good job, Vegeta!" she snapped grumpily.
"Good job, Vegeta," he sneered, watching her face turn the color of a ripe - what was that odd fruit? - tomato. But the twin grumbling sounds as two saiyan stomachs protested being empty forestalled the brewing cacophony. Bulma sweat-dropped, and Vegeta shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"There's food in the house," Bulma said, shooting him an unreadable look. "Pre-made, so you can't complain about my cooking for once."
"I wouldn't complain if you made something edible," he shot back, following her into the capsule house. She had no reply except to stick out her tongue at him.
"Don't stick that out at me unless you intend to use it, woman," Vegeta enjoyed the mortified look that spread across her face.
"Sorry, already did that once today." Her reply was haughty despite her obvious embarrassment. Then she started placing food on the table, cutting off the verbal sparring match. They ate in silence, looking at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. When the meal was done Vegeta cleared his throat.
"Can that mini-cap thing of yours get me something from your dwelling?"
"Sure can," Bulma replied proudly. "What do you need?" She enjoyed showing off her creations.
"Two pairs of the armour I brought with me," came the curt reply. Wondering what he was up to, she went out and spoke with her father on the communicator, then sent off the mini-cap.
"It should be here within the hour," she told her somber faced companion, and headed towards the bathroom. Her muscles would appreciate a long hot soak.
But Vegeta stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
"Don't get comfortable yet, woman. Training is not done for the day."
"WHAT? Vegeta, I'm tired, I'm dirty, I'm smelly, I don't want to do anything else today!"
"I didn't say you had a choice, woman." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You can soak yourself into a damn raisin later."
"You can't stop me!" The moment the words were out of her mouth she was aware how ridiculous they sounded. Vegeta just smirked.
"I can blow up the bathing chamber, woman. Then you can bathe in the cold stream outside for the rest of our time here."
"You wouldn't dare!" she gasped, and knew from his expression that he certainly WOULD dare. Defeated, she retired grumbling to the kitchen and sat sipping a cup of hot chocolate quite sulkily. She studiously ignored Vegeta except to huffily toss him the capsule with the armour when the mini- cap arrived.
He vanished into his room and emerged a few minutes later clad in one set and holding the other.
"Put it on," he ordered gruffly, tossing it to her. Bulma caught it and gave him an incredulous look. "You know it will fit you, woman, weren't you the one making all that noise over the unstable molecule design?"
"I know it'll fit! I want to know WHY I have to put it on!"
"Because," he replied, "I said so." She opened her mouth to yell - and he raised a glowing hand in the direction of the bathroom. His meaning was obvious. Swearing under her breath, Bulma stormed into her room, stripped off the gi Piccolo had created for her, and pulled on the armour. It smelled of Vegeta, and when she caught her tail curling and uncurling happily at said scent, she wrapped it firmly around her waist.
He gave her a once over as she came out of the room, and nodded in approval. Vegeta motioned towards the door and followed her out of the capsule house.
"Follow me," he said simply, and rose into the air. Bulma followed, her flight surprisingly steady, and they rocketed eastward. They didn't say a word to each other the entire way. To both their surprise, she had no trouble keeping up with his rapid speed despite their vast difference in power levels. Not that either one mentioned it, of course.
They eventually came to land in a rocky area filled with mesas and valleys. Bulma looked around, puzzled, noting that some of the rocks looked as if they had been blasted apart. Understanding dawned.
"Isn't this where you fought Goku for the first time?" she asked, breaking her self-imposed ban on speaking to him. He nodded once, his eyes on the horizon. She followed his gaze, but saw nothing.
"Vegeta, what are we doing here?" she complained.
"Be silent, woman." He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. Vegeta really wasn't one for meditation, but he knew it would annoy her. "We have a little time yet. Sit down, close your eyes, and be silent."
Trying not to let him succeed in getting a rise out of her, Bulma did as he said. If he was annoyed, he showed no sign. They sat in silence as the sun sank below the horizon and the shadows lengthened across the earth.
A tap on one of her knees made Bulma open her eyes. Vegeta was looking at her, his tail poised to tap her again if she did not respond. On seeing her eyes open, he withdrew it.
"There is a full moon tonight," he said in a low voice.
For a moment she did not understand. Then memories of Pilaf's prison chamber and Goku's first Tenchi Budokai came to mind. Nameless dread filled her, and she clapped both hands over her eyes and threw herself face first onto the ground.
"Woman, what are you DOING?" demanded Vegeta, exasperated.
"No way!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled. "I don't want to! You can't make me! I'm NOT going to be some giant rampaging ape!" Now he did roll his eyes, and picked her up by the arms. She stubbornly kept her eyes tightly closed.
"Woman, you cannot be a saiyan without experiencing this. The Oozaru is as much a part of our nature as fighting. It is something to be -" he hesitated, '-enjoyed, not feared."
"Tell that to Goku. He killed his grandpa as that ooza-whatever." He growled lightly and gave her a slight shake.
"Kakkarot is not normal, woman. Had Vegeta-sei not been -" the prince paused for less than a heartbeat, "-destroyed, his father would eventually have come to retrieve him. He would have been taught to control the Oozaru state."
She still refused to look at him. But Vegeta would not be so easily thwarted.
"I can teach you, woman, tonight, how to control yourself in that form. Or are you going to keep your eyes closed like a coward? Will you refuse to learn and some night accidentally look upon the moon and kill all those around you?"
"No!" Bulma opened her eyes and found herself less than an inch from Vegeta's face. His mouth curled into a smirk.
"Good." He let her go and paced several steps away. "The moon is up. Do not look on it until I give the word." A feral grin, the first she had ever seen, crossed his face. "I will go first."
And he looked up into the night sky at the glorious full moon. Bulma looked on, trembling, as his back stiffened and his eyes went crimson. Vegeta began to change rapidly, and in moments the spiky-maned giant ape towered over her, still clothed in the armour. Now she knew why he had made her put it on.
She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run for her life as Vegeta-oozaru turned his gaze down to her.
"IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG," he said in a louder and deeper voice. Of course, it was coming from a much larger chest cavity. "YOU CAN LOOK NOW, WOMAN."
Bulma licked her lips nervously, and slowly, slowly, turned her gaze towards the moon. For a moment nothing occurred, and she wondered if perhaps he was wrong and it would not work.
Then a sensation like a bolt of lightning striking jolted through her body. Her heart began to hammer loudly in her chest, and all her joints locked. A snarl forced itself from her lips and a burning fury exploded in her brain, wiping out all conscious thought.
Vegeta stepped back to give her room as her transformation proceeded. He waited, huge tail lashing, as Bulma-oozaru roared her fury to the night sky. She was an interesting sight. Like all females, her form was nowhere near as bulky as a male oozaru, and her muzzle somewhat shorter as well. On top of that, her fur was the same odd coloration as her tail, a deep blue that all but glowed in the moonlight.
Eyes red and mad, she turned to look at him and roared in challenge. He laughed to himself and braced for her charge. There was not a hint of thought in those eyes. Now to bring her out of it.
He met her charge squarely and twisted his muzzle out of her reach as she attempted to slash him with her fangs. They grappled back and forth as she tried her best to savage him and he to get her in a secure hold. This was why Oozaru training was one of the first things a young saiyan was exposed to; without it they would blindly attack anything and anyone, friend or foe.
He was far stronger than she, and eventually he managed what he was aiming for. He wrapped his own long arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides, his chest to her back, and sat down with a crash that shook the landscape. She was unable to get out of this grip, nor use any of her weapons on him. Ignoring the roars and growls of fury, Vegeta began a purr so deep it was almost subsonic. This was a very specific noise, one that cut through layers of animal fury and projected calm into the furthest reaches of the mind.
In fact, it was the purr that under normal circumstances a saiyan would be exposed to immediately after birth, either from mother or father or, if they were being sent on a purging mission, from speakers installed in the space pod. Despite being born human, Bulma's saiyan instincts were geared to respond to it. Slowly, her snarls and struggles stopped. Vegeta continued to purr as she gradually relaxed.
Bulma didn't know when it had happened, but suddenly she was sitting on the ground with Vegeta purring at her back - and holding her in such a way that it was all but impossible to move.
"VEGETA?" she said, and her voice startled her. She managed to look down, and her eyes widened at the sight of her fur-covered body. The sound she made was as close to a squeak as a giant ape could produce. The saiyan behind her stopped purring and growled a laugh. He let her go and she scrambled awkwardly to her feet. It was disorienting to see the world like this. She looked at Vegeta in astonishment, now that she could meet his slightly glowing red eyes.
"I TOLD YOU, WOMAN," he said smugly.
~~~
Bulma was not happy to find out she had to stay in this 'oozaru' form until the moon went down. After much whining on her part, Vegeta reluctantly agreed to allow her time to bathe and sleep tomorrow, rather than continuing with training immediately.
"FINE, WOMAN! I WILL HAVE TIME TO TRAIN MYSELF, THEN, RATHER THAN WASTE IT ON YOU."
Bulma-oozaru grinned in triumph, but before she could say anything the last bit of the moon finally slipped below the skyline. Both saiyans began to dwindle and change, until they stood on the plain once again in humanoid form. Vegeta stretched and looked pleased; Bulma collapsed.
He looked at her with one eyebrow raised as she sat up rather dizzily.
"Sorry," she grimaced. "For some reason - that took a lot out of me."
"It was your first transformation, woman," he replied, wrapping his tail around his waist. "The next time you will be energized, not tired."
She tried to get up, and after several failed attempts managed it. Her aura flared about her and she rose into the air. Less than five feet above the ground, said aura sputtered and died. She landed unceremoniously and looked embarrassed. Bulma sheepishly realized she was too worn out to fly.
Vegeta realized the same thing. With an extremely put-upon look on his face, he picked her up and rose into the air.
"Thanks, Vegeta."
He just grunted.
Bulma leaned her head against him, enjoying the ride. Usually she was terrified when carried, but not anymore. Not after having flown herself. The thoughts she'd had on the shore yesterday came unbidden to her mind, and she blushed slightly at how much she appreciated being held close to him.
Another idea came to mind right on the heels of the first. Was Vegeta really so impossible? His behavior toward her had bordered on gentle of late - at least when he thought she wasn't paying attention - and she knew he was at least somewhat attracted to her.
Maybe, maybe. Bulma licked her lips nervously, and asked,
"Vegeta?"
"What now, woman?"
"Why not relax with me today instead?"
He almost dropped her in disbelief. Fortunately his self control was so great that 'almost dropped' for him meant all she noticed was a tensing of his muscles.
"Why the hell would I do that woman?"
Bulma persevered. He hadn't threatened her or rejected the offer out of hand, exactly.
"You've been awake for hours, too. And you trained so hard yesterday - even for you, I mean." She caught his glance. "Of course I noticed, you big oaf!" The blue haired saiyan experimentally touched his neck and shoulders. "You're all knotted up. Tell you what - we both get cleaned up and catch a few hours sleep, and then I'll give you a massage to get all those knots out of your back. What do you say?"
Vegeta was sorely tempted. Trying to train any further without rest and food would probably do more damage than good at this point. Before he could stop to think of the possible ways this could be a bad idea, his traitorous mouth replied,
"Fine, woman."
And when she squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek, he was too busy trying to convince himself that he did NOT like it that he did not take back his agreement.
There was the usual argument back at the capsule house over who got to bathe first, but since Bulma knew how to get the pre-made food ready for eating, she won that one. Frankly, it came down to either he let her go first or he would have to a) figure out the food himself or b) go hunting again. With ill grace, Vegeta conceded the bathroom to her.
When they had both bathed and consumed far more food than any human could possibly match in one sitting, Bulma yawned and headed for her bedroom. A few hours sleep before giving Vegeta his massage would do her a world of good. She was stopped at the door, however, by a snide remark from said saiyan prince.
"Try to remain in your own bed this time, woman."
Her tail bristled and her glare would have peeled paint off a house. He merely smirked back at her as he headed for his own room. But she was, if nothing else, quick on her mental feet. Smirking in her own right, she shook her head with mock dismay.
"I don't know, Vegeta. It'll be hard to get to sleep without you purring for me like you did the last two nights in a row." And she slammed the door on his startled and vaguely mortified expression. Inside the room, she performed her own silent rendition of a touchdown dance. Point for her!
Vegeta ran through the six quickest ways to kill her before deciding it wasn't worth the hassle. Besides, if she was dead, he wouldn't get his massage - and who would he have to argue with? Wondering when killing her had gone from 'when' to 'if'; he threw himself down on the bed for a well- deserved rest.
