Last time:
"I have no energy for anger with you anymore." He quickly injected the fluid, tossed the needle, and stood, pulling Bulma to her feet. "You're impossible."
Before she had a chance to protest, he was gone.
************************************************************
Bulma awoke the next morning with the usual pounding headache that followed an Eskes attack. She slowly sat up, leaning back against the headboard, the events of the previous day beginning to flood her mind. But the thing was, she couldn't decide whether to be happy, sad, or angry at the moment. For one she would have a cure, and that was good, but then there was Gerressanet's death, and of course her anger with Vegeta that still raged through her veins.
*He had no right saying that to me last night* she thought to herself, instinctively crossing her arms and frowning.
"Why so glum?"
"Kuso!" she swore, jumping back and smacking her head against the wall. "Damn it Uvagon! You scared me."
"Forgive me," he said sweetly, though couldn't help the tiny smile of amusement that was pulling at his lips; he'd rarely smiled before. "Are you hungry? Furto made a lovely dinner."
"Dinner? It's that late?"
"Oh yes. Furto informed me that you would be out of quite sometime. The injection that the Saiyan gave you contained a sedative."
"A sedative? Why?"
"Because he wanted to be sure that you'd get sufficient sleep. Now, about that dinner; are you up for it?"
"Of course I'm up for it. I'm starving." She went to get out of bed, but was pushed gently back into place. "Can't I get up?"
"I'd like to bring it to you, if that's not a problem."
"Umm, no, I suppose not."
He smiled warmly at her and went to retrieve the food.
"I can heat it up more for you if you'd like," he said upon reentering the room, carrying a long tray of all sorts of different kinds of food.
"Uvagon," she sighed as he set the tray on her lap. "I think I should apologize for my behavior last night."
"Apologize? But why?" He looked hurt more than anything.
"Because, it was wrong of me to do what I did, and-"
"And I liked it."
"I know, and I wasn't just leading you on or anything, but-"
"Your love for the Saiyan?"
"I could care less about that jackass," she hissed instinctively, spearing an odd looking Fewsk vegetable. "The thing is that I feel bad for having done that to you, because you weren't expecting it and I made you nervous." She placed the food in her mouth, though immediately spit it back out. "That tastes like peas. I hate peas," she mumbled to herself. "Anyway, I'm just sorry about it. I'm not saying I wish it hadn't happened, just not right then. It was wrong of me."
"I accept your apology then, Bulma." He took a seat next to her on the bed, placing his hand on the other side of Bulma's legs, though decided against it at the last second and rested it on his lap.
"Good, because I really like you and I don't want to offend you."
"Heavens no," he laughed. "I've been chained to a wall for my entire life; nothing you say can offend me."
"I was wondering-umm-er-umm…." She trailed off uneasily, playing around with the odd vegetables that tasted like peas.
"You want to know what it was like living there." It wasn't a question.
"If you want to tell me," she said under her breath, starring down at her plate. Uvagon chuckled quietly, lifting Bulma's chin until her eyes met his.
"I have no problem replaying my past for you. I do hope you can learn from it."
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Of course." He took a deep breath, the kind anyone takes before they begin a long flow of words, and then he began. "I was born in the Drencoves, as you must know." Bulma nodded. "I never knew my parents. My mother was a regular 'unfortunate' Geranome who bore a male child; my father is unknown to me, possibly a Dren in one of the harems, and there are many of those, far more than one would imagine."
"How many?" Bulma piped in, though immediately regretted interrupting. "Sorry."
"No, it's quite alright. Please, ask questions when you are confused." He smiled sweetly at her, and Bulma couldn't help but to smile back; he was such a gorgeous man, even more so now that he'd been cleaned up, put on new clothes, and had his face shaved and hair trimmed. "Nine of every ten Dren males, who are of age, are placed in harems. The others are kept in their cells and tortured." His face was sad for a split second, causing Bulma's heart to sink; he was too beautiful to be sad. "I was placed in a harem when I became of age. But because of my constant disobedience, I was forced back into my cell."
"That's awful," Bulma gasped before she could stop herself.
"That was all I knew. I mean, I knew what was going on was a bad thing, but I never knew that there were such caring females in the universe. Until I met you that is."
"Why weren't you afraid of me or the Doonso?" she asked, blushing madly.
"I met with Furto first, and he explained to me that I should not fear the Doonso when I saw them. I trusted him, of course, though I was quite surprised when he was telling the truth, for I expected cruelty as females have always shown me. I was told again, after we devised a plan, that I should not fear you either, that you were sweet, and caring, and lovely to look at." It was his turn to blush. "But to continue with my story; I grew up in my cell, never once leaving it for any reason. Our food was thrown on the dirty floors and we had to scramble to get a mere crumb. When the guards grew nauseous from our odor, they threw buckets of water on us and gave us one half bar of soap to spilt between the ten males who occupied the cell. I thank the Heavens that such an occurrence happened not too long ago." He blushed again, obviously referring to the fact that he was happy that he didn't smell so bad when he met Bulma. "And, as I've said, we were all chained to the walls of our cell; I have scars on my ankles from the shackles."
"I'm so glad we can help you," Bulma sighed, smiling weakly.
"As am I forever grateful," he said, smiling broadly. "Now, as for my childhood, there is not much to speak of. I spent my days sitting around on the dirty floor of my cell starring off into nothingness; rarely did I speak to my cellmates, for they were just as myself. No one ever seemed to talk in the Drencoves, except when harem recruits came to pick up their monthly load of qualifying slaves. I was chosen especially for Urgadoan." He sneered when he said her name, obviously bitter; it must be the reason he was so apt to get revenge on her. "And she was by no means a gentle female, as many were who paid to enter the harems. She would chain me, which I didn't find unusual, then beat me in the back with a switch until blood dripped from me. And then, after I was weakened with pain, she would throw me on my back and do as she pleased until she was satisfied, and if she was not, she would beat me some more, until I satisfied her." He stopped there, his brow beginning to twitch madly as he glared down at his balled fists.
"No one will ever do such things to you again," Bulma assured him. "I sweat it."
"I was forced to be Urgadoan's personal slave for six years," he continued, as if Bulma had never spoken. "Then I became to angry to take the beatings and the humiliation anymore, and I was brought back to the sickening cell where I grew up, a drastic change from the clean, perfumed rooms of the harems, where I was bathed once a day to please Urgadoan; I prayed to the Heavens that I could go back, be some other Geranome's slave, father her child perhaps, anything but that cell that I'd thought I'd left for good.
"I swore my vengeance on her after that, cursing her for what she'd done and also for sending me back to the Drencoves to wallow in filth and breath unclean air. I wasn't used to the filth anymore, I was expecting beautiful faced harem females to come and bathe me in lavendar water, and rub oils on my skin, and spray perfume in my hair to please females. But no such thing would happen, I would not see the outside of my cell for another six years."
"And that's when you escaped the other day?"
"Yes," he sighed, the story having obviously had an effect on him.
"I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that, but how in Kami's name did you study when you were in your cell?"
"Oh yes." He smiled warmly at her question; this was a part of his past that he treasured. "The Geranomes have many, many libraries of books, most of which are stolen from other planets. Urgadoan demanded that all Geranomes be educated in certain texts, though the guards never liked to learn much that didn't have to do with their job, so they threw the books at us for entertainment, trying to hit us in the head with the corners. Eventually the books began to circulate, and every Dren in the Drencoves was more educated that the guards who beat them; it just so happened that the first book to hit me was one of Earth history."
"I'm so happy that I can take you away from all of that. You don't deserve it, no one does."
"I know," he sighed. "I feel sorry for the Geranomes."
"WHY!" Bulma blurted out, slamming her fists down on her tray and causing the contents to fly and the tray to fall on the fall. "They're cruel, evil, horrible beings! They're the ones who deserve being chained to a wall!"
"Please, calm yourself," Uvagon urged, scooting up to Bulma and placing his hands around her face; he may have spent most of his life in a prison cell, but what he learned from the times in the harem with Geranomes other than Urgadoan was sure coming in handy. "I only meant that I feel sorry that they have to live with themselves. You misunderstood my words."
"They're horrible creatures," Bulma whispered, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "You-You-You don't deserve what they did to you. You're too sweet, and too beautiful, and too kind, and, and, and-" But she was cut off suddenly by Uvagon's soft kiss, and rough calloused hands that found their way to her hair. She melted instantly to his kiss, urging him on as she pushed her tongue into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his slim, muscular form; she wanted him, she couldn't stand it any longer. "Can I have you, Uvagon?" she breath huskily, her arms looped around his thick neck; subconsciously she wondered how he could be so built with having lived how he'd lived, but that thought soon drifted away as Uvagon nodded his reply.
He crawled slowly atop her, gently brushing her hair from her face and kissing her cheek, then moved to her lips, pressing his surprisingly heavy frame on her. He kissed his way down her neck, though stopped suddenly, and picked his head up.
"I can't," he sighed sadly, genuinely wishing he could continue; he wanted her so badly.
"Why not?" She arched a questioning eyebrow at him.
"I can't take you from your love, no matter how you feel toward him at the moment. You will regret our being together later."
"I can never be with him, Uvagon," she insisted, pulling him down, but he resisted, staying hovered above her.
"What if you're wrong? What if he will admit that he loves you, but won't offer his love because of our coupling? I daresay you'd regret it then."
"But that won't happen. He's determined not to love me, and that's just fine. I can live without him."
"If you can live without love, then you can live without me."
"Uvagon, please, just lay with me if you won't bed with me. I need to be close to someone."
"As you wish," he said, kissing her cheek softly.
"Unhand my woman!" Bulma and Uvagon's heads snapped towards the door that had just swung open; Uvagon had only seconds to decide what he planned on doing.
"Get out Vegeta!" Bulma snapped, sliding in front of Uvagon to stop him. "What do you think you're doing!?"
"Get away from him!"
"I'll do whatever I damn well please! Now this is my room, so get out!"
"She's mine Dren," Vegeta snapped, pulling Bulma off the bed and into his arms, holding her so she couldn't escape.
"I know this Vegeta," Uvagon sighed. "I only wish you did."
"What did you just say!?"
"He said I'm not yours Vegeta! Now let go of me!"
"Please, unhand her and allow me to speak," Uvagon pleaded, truly frightened that he would hurt her in some way; he'd read up on Saiyan history, he knew of their lust for killing, a lust matched with the Geranomes.
Bulma seemed to magnetize into Uvagon's arms once released; he turned her and sat her on the bed, so not to raise Vegeta's temper further.
"I know she's yours Vegeta-"
"I belong to no one!" she hissed, bringing her knees up under her chin.
"-and I wish all the best. But she needs certain things that you're unwilling to offer her."
"What I offer her is all she needs."
"She needs love, Vegeta, and you know that. She's told you time and time again, I'm sure. I don't wish to invade, but cannot stand by and watch her get hurt."
"She's not your responsibility."
"When she's in danger she is."
"She's perfectly safe."
"She's in danger of heartbreak."
"I would never harm her," Vegeta growled through clenched teeth.
"You can't decide who I am and am not with, Vegeta," Bulma sighed, her legs sliding back into their previous position. "You gave up your chance with me out of your own stupidity. You took you away from me! Don't take anymore!"
"You pulled away from me!" he retorted, though he was hardly convincing, even to himself.
"That's bullshit and you know it! Now get out! I'll come find you when I'm ready to talk. Right now I can't even look at you."
He balled his fists tightly, his brow narrowing, teeth clenched.
"Kurasaka," he swore under his breath, before turning and sulking out of the room.
"What did he say?" She wasn't expecting an answer.
"A curse in my language."
"What's it mean?"
"I don't know a translation."
"Jerk."
"He is angry though. I don't believe he's begun yet."
"I know he hasn't. It's going to be a hell of a next few months."
"May I inquire about something?"
"Shoot."
"If he's so determined to have you, why is that not enough? He obviously cares for you."
"Yes, but that means sacrifice, and if he really does love me, as all of you seem to think, then he needs to sacrifice his pride and tell me so himself. I can't have it any other way." She looked at the floor, watching her foot play with the shoe she'd left beside the bed. "I can't."
*****************************************************************
Bulma was determined to avoid Vegeta for the remainder of the trip back to Fewskm, and was doing a hell of a job at it, dodging into her room if he came down the hall, or hiding behind Furto or Uvagon. She knew he knew, of course, but it still satisfied her. She was not going to let him get away with what he was trying, to have her as a sex toy and mother to his "heir". No, she needed more; she couldn't survive being used in such a way, even if it was with Vegeta. Sure, she regretted rejecting him every day, but always, just before she caved, she'd be reminded of his rejection of her.
She spent most of her time in her room or the kitchen, sitting around and talking with Furto and Uvagon; they were so interesting to her that she could spend hours just listening to them talk about their everyday lives. When it came to extraordinary tales, she was on pins and needles, ears perked, eyes wide.
"Why is my life so boring?" It was more of a question to herself.
"Boring?" Furto and Uvagon exclaimed at once.
"Earthlings are some of the most interesting beings I know of," Furto snapped, frowning.
"I agree," Uvagon added, folding his arms over his chest.
"What's so great about MY life though? What have I done? Nothing."
"You've been to Namek, you've encountered numerous threats and lived to tell about them, and now you're on a space craft with a Fewsk, a Dren, and a Saiyan. What other Earthling can say such things about their lives?"
"But we can't do anything that you two can. We can't fly, we don't communicate with other planets, we don't have anything your races have."
"You also don't have the wide spread imprisonment of all males," Uvagon said, almost angrily.
"Or cruel warriors that would sooner rip your head off than look at you," Furto added, just as harshly.
"Ok, ok, I see your point," she huffed, curling herself into a ball on her bed. "I didn't mean to cause an uproar."
*******************************************************
---Chapter 20!!! Wee! I know, I know, not much happened, but I needed to post this before I went mad. I'll put more time into the next chapter (I'll probably even change this one), but that means it'll take longer cause I'm really busy now with school and all.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Review=More Chapters)
Next time: ??????
Note: Any ideas? Please tell me…
"I have no energy for anger with you anymore." He quickly injected the fluid, tossed the needle, and stood, pulling Bulma to her feet. "You're impossible."
Before she had a chance to protest, he was gone.
************************************************************
Bulma awoke the next morning with the usual pounding headache that followed an Eskes attack. She slowly sat up, leaning back against the headboard, the events of the previous day beginning to flood her mind. But the thing was, she couldn't decide whether to be happy, sad, or angry at the moment. For one she would have a cure, and that was good, but then there was Gerressanet's death, and of course her anger with Vegeta that still raged through her veins.
*He had no right saying that to me last night* she thought to herself, instinctively crossing her arms and frowning.
"Why so glum?"
"Kuso!" she swore, jumping back and smacking her head against the wall. "Damn it Uvagon! You scared me."
"Forgive me," he said sweetly, though couldn't help the tiny smile of amusement that was pulling at his lips; he'd rarely smiled before. "Are you hungry? Furto made a lovely dinner."
"Dinner? It's that late?"
"Oh yes. Furto informed me that you would be out of quite sometime. The injection that the Saiyan gave you contained a sedative."
"A sedative? Why?"
"Because he wanted to be sure that you'd get sufficient sleep. Now, about that dinner; are you up for it?"
"Of course I'm up for it. I'm starving." She went to get out of bed, but was pushed gently back into place. "Can't I get up?"
"I'd like to bring it to you, if that's not a problem."
"Umm, no, I suppose not."
He smiled warmly at her and went to retrieve the food.
"I can heat it up more for you if you'd like," he said upon reentering the room, carrying a long tray of all sorts of different kinds of food.
"Uvagon," she sighed as he set the tray on her lap. "I think I should apologize for my behavior last night."
"Apologize? But why?" He looked hurt more than anything.
"Because, it was wrong of me to do what I did, and-"
"And I liked it."
"I know, and I wasn't just leading you on or anything, but-"
"Your love for the Saiyan?"
"I could care less about that jackass," she hissed instinctively, spearing an odd looking Fewsk vegetable. "The thing is that I feel bad for having done that to you, because you weren't expecting it and I made you nervous." She placed the food in her mouth, though immediately spit it back out. "That tastes like peas. I hate peas," she mumbled to herself. "Anyway, I'm just sorry about it. I'm not saying I wish it hadn't happened, just not right then. It was wrong of me."
"I accept your apology then, Bulma." He took a seat next to her on the bed, placing his hand on the other side of Bulma's legs, though decided against it at the last second and rested it on his lap.
"Good, because I really like you and I don't want to offend you."
"Heavens no," he laughed. "I've been chained to a wall for my entire life; nothing you say can offend me."
"I was wondering-umm-er-umm…." She trailed off uneasily, playing around with the odd vegetables that tasted like peas.
"You want to know what it was like living there." It wasn't a question.
"If you want to tell me," she said under her breath, starring down at her plate. Uvagon chuckled quietly, lifting Bulma's chin until her eyes met his.
"I have no problem replaying my past for you. I do hope you can learn from it."
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Of course." He took a deep breath, the kind anyone takes before they begin a long flow of words, and then he began. "I was born in the Drencoves, as you must know." Bulma nodded. "I never knew my parents. My mother was a regular 'unfortunate' Geranome who bore a male child; my father is unknown to me, possibly a Dren in one of the harems, and there are many of those, far more than one would imagine."
"How many?" Bulma piped in, though immediately regretted interrupting. "Sorry."
"No, it's quite alright. Please, ask questions when you are confused." He smiled sweetly at her, and Bulma couldn't help but to smile back; he was such a gorgeous man, even more so now that he'd been cleaned up, put on new clothes, and had his face shaved and hair trimmed. "Nine of every ten Dren males, who are of age, are placed in harems. The others are kept in their cells and tortured." His face was sad for a split second, causing Bulma's heart to sink; he was too beautiful to be sad. "I was placed in a harem when I became of age. But because of my constant disobedience, I was forced back into my cell."
"That's awful," Bulma gasped before she could stop herself.
"That was all I knew. I mean, I knew what was going on was a bad thing, but I never knew that there were such caring females in the universe. Until I met you that is."
"Why weren't you afraid of me or the Doonso?" she asked, blushing madly.
"I met with Furto first, and he explained to me that I should not fear the Doonso when I saw them. I trusted him, of course, though I was quite surprised when he was telling the truth, for I expected cruelty as females have always shown me. I was told again, after we devised a plan, that I should not fear you either, that you were sweet, and caring, and lovely to look at." It was his turn to blush. "But to continue with my story; I grew up in my cell, never once leaving it for any reason. Our food was thrown on the dirty floors and we had to scramble to get a mere crumb. When the guards grew nauseous from our odor, they threw buckets of water on us and gave us one half bar of soap to spilt between the ten males who occupied the cell. I thank the Heavens that such an occurrence happened not too long ago." He blushed again, obviously referring to the fact that he was happy that he didn't smell so bad when he met Bulma. "And, as I've said, we were all chained to the walls of our cell; I have scars on my ankles from the shackles."
"I'm so glad we can help you," Bulma sighed, smiling weakly.
"As am I forever grateful," he said, smiling broadly. "Now, as for my childhood, there is not much to speak of. I spent my days sitting around on the dirty floor of my cell starring off into nothingness; rarely did I speak to my cellmates, for they were just as myself. No one ever seemed to talk in the Drencoves, except when harem recruits came to pick up their monthly load of qualifying slaves. I was chosen especially for Urgadoan." He sneered when he said her name, obviously bitter; it must be the reason he was so apt to get revenge on her. "And she was by no means a gentle female, as many were who paid to enter the harems. She would chain me, which I didn't find unusual, then beat me in the back with a switch until blood dripped from me. And then, after I was weakened with pain, she would throw me on my back and do as she pleased until she was satisfied, and if she was not, she would beat me some more, until I satisfied her." He stopped there, his brow beginning to twitch madly as he glared down at his balled fists.
"No one will ever do such things to you again," Bulma assured him. "I sweat it."
"I was forced to be Urgadoan's personal slave for six years," he continued, as if Bulma had never spoken. "Then I became to angry to take the beatings and the humiliation anymore, and I was brought back to the sickening cell where I grew up, a drastic change from the clean, perfumed rooms of the harems, where I was bathed once a day to please Urgadoan; I prayed to the Heavens that I could go back, be some other Geranome's slave, father her child perhaps, anything but that cell that I'd thought I'd left for good.
"I swore my vengeance on her after that, cursing her for what she'd done and also for sending me back to the Drencoves to wallow in filth and breath unclean air. I wasn't used to the filth anymore, I was expecting beautiful faced harem females to come and bathe me in lavendar water, and rub oils on my skin, and spray perfume in my hair to please females. But no such thing would happen, I would not see the outside of my cell for another six years."
"And that's when you escaped the other day?"
"Yes," he sighed, the story having obviously had an effect on him.
"I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that, but how in Kami's name did you study when you were in your cell?"
"Oh yes." He smiled warmly at her question; this was a part of his past that he treasured. "The Geranomes have many, many libraries of books, most of which are stolen from other planets. Urgadoan demanded that all Geranomes be educated in certain texts, though the guards never liked to learn much that didn't have to do with their job, so they threw the books at us for entertainment, trying to hit us in the head with the corners. Eventually the books began to circulate, and every Dren in the Drencoves was more educated that the guards who beat them; it just so happened that the first book to hit me was one of Earth history."
"I'm so happy that I can take you away from all of that. You don't deserve it, no one does."
"I know," he sighed. "I feel sorry for the Geranomes."
"WHY!" Bulma blurted out, slamming her fists down on her tray and causing the contents to fly and the tray to fall on the fall. "They're cruel, evil, horrible beings! They're the ones who deserve being chained to a wall!"
"Please, calm yourself," Uvagon urged, scooting up to Bulma and placing his hands around her face; he may have spent most of his life in a prison cell, but what he learned from the times in the harem with Geranomes other than Urgadoan was sure coming in handy. "I only meant that I feel sorry that they have to live with themselves. You misunderstood my words."
"They're horrible creatures," Bulma whispered, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "You-You-You don't deserve what they did to you. You're too sweet, and too beautiful, and too kind, and, and, and-" But she was cut off suddenly by Uvagon's soft kiss, and rough calloused hands that found their way to her hair. She melted instantly to his kiss, urging him on as she pushed her tongue into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his slim, muscular form; she wanted him, she couldn't stand it any longer. "Can I have you, Uvagon?" she breath huskily, her arms looped around his thick neck; subconsciously she wondered how he could be so built with having lived how he'd lived, but that thought soon drifted away as Uvagon nodded his reply.
He crawled slowly atop her, gently brushing her hair from her face and kissing her cheek, then moved to her lips, pressing his surprisingly heavy frame on her. He kissed his way down her neck, though stopped suddenly, and picked his head up.
"I can't," he sighed sadly, genuinely wishing he could continue; he wanted her so badly.
"Why not?" She arched a questioning eyebrow at him.
"I can't take you from your love, no matter how you feel toward him at the moment. You will regret our being together later."
"I can never be with him, Uvagon," she insisted, pulling him down, but he resisted, staying hovered above her.
"What if you're wrong? What if he will admit that he loves you, but won't offer his love because of our coupling? I daresay you'd regret it then."
"But that won't happen. He's determined not to love me, and that's just fine. I can live without him."
"If you can live without love, then you can live without me."
"Uvagon, please, just lay with me if you won't bed with me. I need to be close to someone."
"As you wish," he said, kissing her cheek softly.
"Unhand my woman!" Bulma and Uvagon's heads snapped towards the door that had just swung open; Uvagon had only seconds to decide what he planned on doing.
"Get out Vegeta!" Bulma snapped, sliding in front of Uvagon to stop him. "What do you think you're doing!?"
"Get away from him!"
"I'll do whatever I damn well please! Now this is my room, so get out!"
"She's mine Dren," Vegeta snapped, pulling Bulma off the bed and into his arms, holding her so she couldn't escape.
"I know this Vegeta," Uvagon sighed. "I only wish you did."
"What did you just say!?"
"He said I'm not yours Vegeta! Now let go of me!"
"Please, unhand her and allow me to speak," Uvagon pleaded, truly frightened that he would hurt her in some way; he'd read up on Saiyan history, he knew of their lust for killing, a lust matched with the Geranomes.
Bulma seemed to magnetize into Uvagon's arms once released; he turned her and sat her on the bed, so not to raise Vegeta's temper further.
"I know she's yours Vegeta-"
"I belong to no one!" she hissed, bringing her knees up under her chin.
"-and I wish all the best. But she needs certain things that you're unwilling to offer her."
"What I offer her is all she needs."
"She needs love, Vegeta, and you know that. She's told you time and time again, I'm sure. I don't wish to invade, but cannot stand by and watch her get hurt."
"She's not your responsibility."
"When she's in danger she is."
"She's perfectly safe."
"She's in danger of heartbreak."
"I would never harm her," Vegeta growled through clenched teeth.
"You can't decide who I am and am not with, Vegeta," Bulma sighed, her legs sliding back into their previous position. "You gave up your chance with me out of your own stupidity. You took you away from me! Don't take anymore!"
"You pulled away from me!" he retorted, though he was hardly convincing, even to himself.
"That's bullshit and you know it! Now get out! I'll come find you when I'm ready to talk. Right now I can't even look at you."
He balled his fists tightly, his brow narrowing, teeth clenched.
"Kurasaka," he swore under his breath, before turning and sulking out of the room.
"What did he say?" She wasn't expecting an answer.
"A curse in my language."
"What's it mean?"
"I don't know a translation."
"Jerk."
"He is angry though. I don't believe he's begun yet."
"I know he hasn't. It's going to be a hell of a next few months."
"May I inquire about something?"
"Shoot."
"If he's so determined to have you, why is that not enough? He obviously cares for you."
"Yes, but that means sacrifice, and if he really does love me, as all of you seem to think, then he needs to sacrifice his pride and tell me so himself. I can't have it any other way." She looked at the floor, watching her foot play with the shoe she'd left beside the bed. "I can't."
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Bulma was determined to avoid Vegeta for the remainder of the trip back to Fewskm, and was doing a hell of a job at it, dodging into her room if he came down the hall, or hiding behind Furto or Uvagon. She knew he knew, of course, but it still satisfied her. She was not going to let him get away with what he was trying, to have her as a sex toy and mother to his "heir". No, she needed more; she couldn't survive being used in such a way, even if it was with Vegeta. Sure, she regretted rejecting him every day, but always, just before she caved, she'd be reminded of his rejection of her.
She spent most of her time in her room or the kitchen, sitting around and talking with Furto and Uvagon; they were so interesting to her that she could spend hours just listening to them talk about their everyday lives. When it came to extraordinary tales, she was on pins and needles, ears perked, eyes wide.
"Why is my life so boring?" It was more of a question to herself.
"Boring?" Furto and Uvagon exclaimed at once.
"Earthlings are some of the most interesting beings I know of," Furto snapped, frowning.
"I agree," Uvagon added, folding his arms over his chest.
"What's so great about MY life though? What have I done? Nothing."
"You've been to Namek, you've encountered numerous threats and lived to tell about them, and now you're on a space craft with a Fewsk, a Dren, and a Saiyan. What other Earthling can say such things about their lives?"
"But we can't do anything that you two can. We can't fly, we don't communicate with other planets, we don't have anything your races have."
"You also don't have the wide spread imprisonment of all males," Uvagon said, almost angrily.
"Or cruel warriors that would sooner rip your head off than look at you," Furto added, just as harshly.
"Ok, ok, I see your point," she huffed, curling herself into a ball on her bed. "I didn't mean to cause an uproar."
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---Chapter 20!!! Wee! I know, I know, not much happened, but I needed to post this before I went mad. I'll put more time into the next chapter (I'll probably even change this one), but that means it'll take longer cause I'm really busy now with school and all.
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