Last time:
"Please, please consider this," she pleaded. She paused, sighing weakly. "It's your second chance at love Furto. Take it."
"Funny." It was the only sarcastic word Bulma had ever heard him utter. "I suggest you take your own advice."
********************************************************
"Take my own advice!?" Bulma gasped. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"He told you himself that he was 'going to forgive you'," Furto snapped back, his unusual anger beginning to boil again. It was something about being around her and Vegeta that made his almost non-existent temper flare. "I agree that those are a horrible choice of words, but he meant well." He grabbed Bulma's arms, as if her full attention weren't already on him. "He wished to bandage the wound he gave you."
"Yes, and then he would have proposed mate-ship again, something he knows I cannot do as he wishes."
"That might very well have been, but I doubt it. I think he truly wanted things to be better."
"Then how is that taking my own advice?"
"Because, you silly earth girl," he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides. "If you're no longer angry with him there's a chance you can see the love in his eyes." He looked at the floor. "He cares for you, you know. He let it slip when we were arguing. He said, 'I don't give a damn enough about her anymore to forgive her.' But he does, and he always will."
"And Jemalin? What of her? Her situation is nothing like that of that brat monkey."
"She's cold to me, it's the same."
"She's cold because she's forgotten how to be warm. Vegeta was never warm!"
"When he bathed you in ice to soothe your Eskes, was he not warm? Were his touches not sweet enough? Were his eyes not focused enough on healing you?"
"Duty is different from love."
"Duty? Duty to you IS love, Bulma. He wants only you, he is bound to only you, he-Oh bother. I'm tired. And this brew will take my last remaining energy. I'll speak with you again tomorrow. Good night."
"You're kicking me out?"
"If you see it that way, then yes. If not, then take it that I'm weary and need rest."
**********************************************************************
"Forgive me?" Bulma muttered, pacing her room for what seemed the millionth time. "Ha! What's he know of anything like that? And forgive me for what? I did NOTHING wrong. He's the wrong one. He's the one that needs to change and apologize to me. The day I bow down to his wishes is the day he be-friends Goku. Lousy jerk."
She sunk down on the floor right where she'd been pacing, her thoughts suddenly halted on the thought of Goku; it wasn't the first time home-sickness struck her this hard. So many months since she'd seen any of their faces, heard their voices, knew their touch. And she'd never gotten a chance to say good-bye. Her last words to her father had been, "Fine! I'll finish the damn ship NOW! Kami!" What if he died while she was away? What if any of them died? What would she do? How could she forgive herself? It wasn't her fault, of course, that she was trapped in space with Vegeta, but it was she who left, not any of them.
She blocked that thought from her mind. No. No one is harmed, everyone is fine. When you return home everyone will be there waiting for you.
Return home. Ah, now that was a thought.
She'd have her own lab back, her experiments to work on, things to keep her busy and her mind off of certain jerks. All the intricate wires and switches and calculations will keep her busy for weeks upon her return. And her father must have come up with some knew ideas for her to work with; he was always doing that, each week he came up with something knew, and she'd been gone for months! Some much knowledge; she couldn't wait.
"Couple without love?" she said aloud, her thoughts back where they started. She had done that with Yamcha, hadn't she? She'd forced herself to stay with him though she didn't love him. She convinced herself that she did, that he was the right man for her, but that had all been an illusion; she was never happy with him.
Happy.
Happy was when she was in her lab, working tirelessly on an invention that she was just barely beginning to understand. Happy was her and her mother cooking loads of food together for the hell of it and laughing and talking, and then having everyone over to eat because they didn't want the food to go to waste. Happy was her father's proud smile when she completed something knew, a smile that hadn't faulted since she was a child. Happy was Goku, and Chi-Chi, and all the others all around her, loving her. But happy was also Vegeta's warm strong arms around her, his lips pressed to her forehead, his eyes full of compassion; passion was exciting, and of course it was there too, but compassion also reined, and that's the part that brought her true happiness.
Happy with Vegeta? Yes, for a little while. Before she allowed herself to see that there was no love and never would be.
Happy? Yes. Love? No.
And she needed love. She needed it like she needed air, and food, and wires and metal, and...and Vegeta.
Curling into a ball right there on the floor, Bulma closed her eyes and forced sleep. She'd think of her woes in the morning, right now she needed to dream of what would never happen. Come Vegeta, tell me you love me. "I love you Bulma, I cannot deny it again." And he would kiss her and hold her as if when he let go she'd be gone forever. "Love you...Love you always..."
********************************************************************
Bulma awoke with a start, confused to find that she was in her bed, and not on the floor where she'd definitely fallen asleep. A slight impression was at the foot of her bed, and when she leaned over and felt it, it was still warm.
She laid back on her pillows, starring at the ceiling.
He'd come, hadn't he? He'd picked her up off the floor and carefully set her in the bed and then sat, watching her, until just a few moments ago when she stirred for morning. But no, that was wrong. That was kindness, that was not Vegeta, that must have been Furto. But Furto was much too small to lift her.
"Must have sleepwalked," she yawned, stretching her arms. "Mmm." Something smelled delicious in the kitchen. She hopped out of bed, threw on her robe, and padded out of her room. Furto stood at the stove, testing the contents of the pot he was cooking in. A stew of some kind. For breakfast? Hell, why not?
"Good morning Miss," Furto said with a bow, then looked back at his pot.
"Morning Furto. How's the Elpinosus? You're not sitting watch with it."
"No, it's simmering just fine. It won't need my attention for some four hours. So I thought, I will make breakfast for Bulma. Geragon Stew is a specialty on Fewskm."
"You're rather cheery too. What's going on?" She took a seat at the table, then thought better of it and joined Furto at the stove.
"Nothing, Miss. Just happy to be out of my room for more than a few moments. Cabin fever isn't good for Fewsks. We get restless."
"Then you're alive," Bulma laughed. "Cabin fever is good for no one."
"True."
"Hey Furto." She finally took her seat at the table.
"Yes?"
"Did you put me in my bed last night? I know I fell asleep on the floor. I was too tired to get into bed."
"Why no Miss. I did not. I have not left my room in some time. Besides, I haven't the strength or the height to lift you. Perhaps-"
"Thank you."
*****************************************************************
The next morning Bulma awoke in the bathtub, thick steam surrounding her.
"Now I know I definitely didn't fall asleep in the bath," she thought, moving her hazy eyes to Vegeta's face. He was frowning, of course, and looking at the floor, his arms halfway submerged in the water, just dangling there; he was in deep thought, she dared not bother him. Besides, she knew what was going on. She'd had another cold attack, and by the looks of the tiredness in Vegeta's eyes, it had been during the night, and had been quite a battle. Must have been, seeing as she didn't remember a thing. Had she woken for a moment only to pass out from the pain?
Furto must have been working on the Elpinosus. He was informed, and worried, but busy working on her cure. Good. She wanted this moment alone with Vegeta, the only time she could be around him was when she was unconscious, or in this case, he hadn't realized she'd come to yet.
Vegeta's brow twitched irritably, his lips pursed, his eyes hard. Whatever he was thinking, was bothering him greatly.
"Vegeta," Bulma said, not being able to take the look on his face a moment longer. Love him. Yes. She loved him.
His head immediately snapped in her direction, a flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes; it quickly faded, however, and his scowl burned deeper. He picked up a warm wet rag and wiped Bulma's forehead and face; tender strokes. Were his touches not sweet enough? Were his eyes not focused enough on healing you? She cleared her mind. Don't think of that. The moment is now.
"Cold attack, huh?" she managed, her throat sore and cold. She just now noticed the orange tint in the water. More blood. How much longer could her frail body take this?
"Furto said if you have another attack," he sighed, turning his head, his voice monotone; no feeling on the surface, but was there some hidden deeper? "an attack of any kind, that you would die. Your body cannot handle the strain any longer."
She swallowed hard. Die?
"What brought this one on? Do you know?" She tried to keep her voice calm and level. No use getting worked up, that brings on attacks. One more and bam! she was gone.
"Furto says because the disease is nearing its end. Your body is slowly breaking down and-"
"Look at me when you tell me this, Vegeta."
"-you will die very soon." He hadn't abided her plea; she hadn't expected it.
"All this from a little plant? Kami." She sunk deeper into the walk.
Suddenly Vegeta stood, and she thought he was going to leave, but then he stepped into the tub, gently pushed her forward, and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her naked chest, his fingers grazing her belly. She settled against him, forcing all unhappy and logical thoughts away. No, she was going to enjoy this. If she was going to die, then she was going to have his arms around her when she went.
"I love you, Vegeta," she whispered, turning her head just enough to see his face. He placed his hand on her face and pulled her in for a kiss; she didn't protest. Yes. Yes, kiss me. Show me passion if you cannot show me love. "If I raise my heart rate, can another attack come?"
"No," he said, same monotone voice. "This attack was random. Nothing will bring another attack. The next attack will bring death." It seemed now he was only saying it to remind himself that she could die, that he was sitting in the tub with her for that reason, that he was showing mild kindness because she was on her deathbed.
She grabbed his face, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Get my heart rate through the roof Vegeta," she whispered in the most sexy husky voice she could muster. "Take me now. We can worry about the consequences later."
He lifted her out of the water with ease, carrying her dripping naked body out of the bathroom. When he set her on the bed it was with care, as if he did not believe his own words that nothing could bring another attack. When he pealed off his wet clothes, it was painfully slow and Bulma almost gave in to the urge to tear them off; but she lay still, waiting for him; it could be his way, she didn't care, she only wanted him, whatever way she could get him.
(***Insert Lemon Here***)
Bulma lost count at how many times he took her, and she took him. Soon they were only sacks of skin that could barely breath and both wanting more, but knew they needed some rest.
"I won't force love," she finally said, loving the feel of their sweaty bodies against one another. "This was for passion."
"I'm aware." Monotone. Vegeta.
"What now?"
"You shut up and let me enjoy this." She didn't utter another word.
****************************************************************
When Vegeta finally got out of Bulma's bed, it was because he needed to prepare the ship for its landing on Doon. He told Bulma to dress and be in the control room in no less then five minutes; he'd get Furto.
Once in the control room, seated and strapped in, Bulma's mind could not stop swimming. She'd had her prince, they'd bedded together. She could be happy now, for a small while. Even the thought of dying didn't bother her, because she'd had him, and she could die now and be happy.
She looked to Furto, whose little eyes were barely visible.
"She will come," Bulma said, taking his hand. He only smiled; completely unaware of what had taken place between her and Vegeta. She'd inform him later, maybe. Or maybe it would be just theirs, hers and Vegeta's, for the rest of their lives.
"Three minutes to landing," Vegeta said.
"Bring me strength," Furto mumbled, gripping Bulma's hand tighter.
********************************************************************
---Chapter 25!!! Yes! They were together! Yay! And it definitely happened. No dream, no illusion. It was all real! Woo!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Doon and Jemalin...
Consult my fanfiction.net profile for lemon.
"Please, please consider this," she pleaded. She paused, sighing weakly. "It's your second chance at love Furto. Take it."
"Funny." It was the only sarcastic word Bulma had ever heard him utter. "I suggest you take your own advice."
********************************************************
"Take my own advice!?" Bulma gasped. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"He told you himself that he was 'going to forgive you'," Furto snapped back, his unusual anger beginning to boil again. It was something about being around her and Vegeta that made his almost non-existent temper flare. "I agree that those are a horrible choice of words, but he meant well." He grabbed Bulma's arms, as if her full attention weren't already on him. "He wished to bandage the wound he gave you."
"Yes, and then he would have proposed mate-ship again, something he knows I cannot do as he wishes."
"That might very well have been, but I doubt it. I think he truly wanted things to be better."
"Then how is that taking my own advice?"
"Because, you silly earth girl," he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides. "If you're no longer angry with him there's a chance you can see the love in his eyes." He looked at the floor. "He cares for you, you know. He let it slip when we were arguing. He said, 'I don't give a damn enough about her anymore to forgive her.' But he does, and he always will."
"And Jemalin? What of her? Her situation is nothing like that of that brat monkey."
"She's cold to me, it's the same."
"She's cold because she's forgotten how to be warm. Vegeta was never warm!"
"When he bathed you in ice to soothe your Eskes, was he not warm? Were his touches not sweet enough? Were his eyes not focused enough on healing you?"
"Duty is different from love."
"Duty? Duty to you IS love, Bulma. He wants only you, he is bound to only you, he-Oh bother. I'm tired. And this brew will take my last remaining energy. I'll speak with you again tomorrow. Good night."
"You're kicking me out?"
"If you see it that way, then yes. If not, then take it that I'm weary and need rest."
**********************************************************************
"Forgive me?" Bulma muttered, pacing her room for what seemed the millionth time. "Ha! What's he know of anything like that? And forgive me for what? I did NOTHING wrong. He's the wrong one. He's the one that needs to change and apologize to me. The day I bow down to his wishes is the day he be-friends Goku. Lousy jerk."
She sunk down on the floor right where she'd been pacing, her thoughts suddenly halted on the thought of Goku; it wasn't the first time home-sickness struck her this hard. So many months since she'd seen any of their faces, heard their voices, knew their touch. And she'd never gotten a chance to say good-bye. Her last words to her father had been, "Fine! I'll finish the damn ship NOW! Kami!" What if he died while she was away? What if any of them died? What would she do? How could she forgive herself? It wasn't her fault, of course, that she was trapped in space with Vegeta, but it was she who left, not any of them.
She blocked that thought from her mind. No. No one is harmed, everyone is fine. When you return home everyone will be there waiting for you.
Return home. Ah, now that was a thought.
She'd have her own lab back, her experiments to work on, things to keep her busy and her mind off of certain jerks. All the intricate wires and switches and calculations will keep her busy for weeks upon her return. And her father must have come up with some knew ideas for her to work with; he was always doing that, each week he came up with something knew, and she'd been gone for months! Some much knowledge; she couldn't wait.
"Couple without love?" she said aloud, her thoughts back where they started. She had done that with Yamcha, hadn't she? She'd forced herself to stay with him though she didn't love him. She convinced herself that she did, that he was the right man for her, but that had all been an illusion; she was never happy with him.
Happy.
Happy was when she was in her lab, working tirelessly on an invention that she was just barely beginning to understand. Happy was her and her mother cooking loads of food together for the hell of it and laughing and talking, and then having everyone over to eat because they didn't want the food to go to waste. Happy was her father's proud smile when she completed something knew, a smile that hadn't faulted since she was a child. Happy was Goku, and Chi-Chi, and all the others all around her, loving her. But happy was also Vegeta's warm strong arms around her, his lips pressed to her forehead, his eyes full of compassion; passion was exciting, and of course it was there too, but compassion also reined, and that's the part that brought her true happiness.
Happy with Vegeta? Yes, for a little while. Before she allowed herself to see that there was no love and never would be.
Happy? Yes. Love? No.
And she needed love. She needed it like she needed air, and food, and wires and metal, and...and Vegeta.
Curling into a ball right there on the floor, Bulma closed her eyes and forced sleep. She'd think of her woes in the morning, right now she needed to dream of what would never happen. Come Vegeta, tell me you love me. "I love you Bulma, I cannot deny it again." And he would kiss her and hold her as if when he let go she'd be gone forever. "Love you...Love you always..."
********************************************************************
Bulma awoke with a start, confused to find that she was in her bed, and not on the floor where she'd definitely fallen asleep. A slight impression was at the foot of her bed, and when she leaned over and felt it, it was still warm.
She laid back on her pillows, starring at the ceiling.
He'd come, hadn't he? He'd picked her up off the floor and carefully set her in the bed and then sat, watching her, until just a few moments ago when she stirred for morning. But no, that was wrong. That was kindness, that was not Vegeta, that must have been Furto. But Furto was much too small to lift her.
"Must have sleepwalked," she yawned, stretching her arms. "Mmm." Something smelled delicious in the kitchen. She hopped out of bed, threw on her robe, and padded out of her room. Furto stood at the stove, testing the contents of the pot he was cooking in. A stew of some kind. For breakfast? Hell, why not?
"Good morning Miss," Furto said with a bow, then looked back at his pot.
"Morning Furto. How's the Elpinosus? You're not sitting watch with it."
"No, it's simmering just fine. It won't need my attention for some four hours. So I thought, I will make breakfast for Bulma. Geragon Stew is a specialty on Fewskm."
"You're rather cheery too. What's going on?" She took a seat at the table, then thought better of it and joined Furto at the stove.
"Nothing, Miss. Just happy to be out of my room for more than a few moments. Cabin fever isn't good for Fewsks. We get restless."
"Then you're alive," Bulma laughed. "Cabin fever is good for no one."
"True."
"Hey Furto." She finally took her seat at the table.
"Yes?"
"Did you put me in my bed last night? I know I fell asleep on the floor. I was too tired to get into bed."
"Why no Miss. I did not. I have not left my room in some time. Besides, I haven't the strength or the height to lift you. Perhaps-"
"Thank you."
*****************************************************************
The next morning Bulma awoke in the bathtub, thick steam surrounding her.
"Now I know I definitely didn't fall asleep in the bath," she thought, moving her hazy eyes to Vegeta's face. He was frowning, of course, and looking at the floor, his arms halfway submerged in the water, just dangling there; he was in deep thought, she dared not bother him. Besides, she knew what was going on. She'd had another cold attack, and by the looks of the tiredness in Vegeta's eyes, it had been during the night, and had been quite a battle. Must have been, seeing as she didn't remember a thing. Had she woken for a moment only to pass out from the pain?
Furto must have been working on the Elpinosus. He was informed, and worried, but busy working on her cure. Good. She wanted this moment alone with Vegeta, the only time she could be around him was when she was unconscious, or in this case, he hadn't realized she'd come to yet.
Vegeta's brow twitched irritably, his lips pursed, his eyes hard. Whatever he was thinking, was bothering him greatly.
"Vegeta," Bulma said, not being able to take the look on his face a moment longer. Love him. Yes. She loved him.
His head immediately snapped in her direction, a flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes; it quickly faded, however, and his scowl burned deeper. He picked up a warm wet rag and wiped Bulma's forehead and face; tender strokes. Were his touches not sweet enough? Were his eyes not focused enough on healing you? She cleared her mind. Don't think of that. The moment is now.
"Cold attack, huh?" she managed, her throat sore and cold. She just now noticed the orange tint in the water. More blood. How much longer could her frail body take this?
"Furto said if you have another attack," he sighed, turning his head, his voice monotone; no feeling on the surface, but was there some hidden deeper? "an attack of any kind, that you would die. Your body cannot handle the strain any longer."
She swallowed hard. Die?
"What brought this one on? Do you know?" She tried to keep her voice calm and level. No use getting worked up, that brings on attacks. One more and bam! she was gone.
"Furto says because the disease is nearing its end. Your body is slowly breaking down and-"
"Look at me when you tell me this, Vegeta."
"-you will die very soon." He hadn't abided her plea; she hadn't expected it.
"All this from a little plant? Kami." She sunk deeper into the walk.
Suddenly Vegeta stood, and she thought he was going to leave, but then he stepped into the tub, gently pushed her forward, and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her naked chest, his fingers grazing her belly. She settled against him, forcing all unhappy and logical thoughts away. No, she was going to enjoy this. If she was going to die, then she was going to have his arms around her when she went.
"I love you, Vegeta," she whispered, turning her head just enough to see his face. He placed his hand on her face and pulled her in for a kiss; she didn't protest. Yes. Yes, kiss me. Show me passion if you cannot show me love. "If I raise my heart rate, can another attack come?"
"No," he said, same monotone voice. "This attack was random. Nothing will bring another attack. The next attack will bring death." It seemed now he was only saying it to remind himself that she could die, that he was sitting in the tub with her for that reason, that he was showing mild kindness because she was on her deathbed.
She grabbed his face, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Get my heart rate through the roof Vegeta," she whispered in the most sexy husky voice she could muster. "Take me now. We can worry about the consequences later."
He lifted her out of the water with ease, carrying her dripping naked body out of the bathroom. When he set her on the bed it was with care, as if he did not believe his own words that nothing could bring another attack. When he pealed off his wet clothes, it was painfully slow and Bulma almost gave in to the urge to tear them off; but she lay still, waiting for him; it could be his way, she didn't care, she only wanted him, whatever way she could get him.
(***Insert Lemon Here***)
Bulma lost count at how many times he took her, and she took him. Soon they were only sacks of skin that could barely breath and both wanting more, but knew they needed some rest.
"I won't force love," she finally said, loving the feel of their sweaty bodies against one another. "This was for passion."
"I'm aware." Monotone. Vegeta.
"What now?"
"You shut up and let me enjoy this." She didn't utter another word.
****************************************************************
When Vegeta finally got out of Bulma's bed, it was because he needed to prepare the ship for its landing on Doon. He told Bulma to dress and be in the control room in no less then five minutes; he'd get Furto.
Once in the control room, seated and strapped in, Bulma's mind could not stop swimming. She'd had her prince, they'd bedded together. She could be happy now, for a small while. Even the thought of dying didn't bother her, because she'd had him, and she could die now and be happy.
She looked to Furto, whose little eyes were barely visible.
"She will come," Bulma said, taking his hand. He only smiled; completely unaware of what had taken place between her and Vegeta. She'd inform him later, maybe. Or maybe it would be just theirs, hers and Vegeta's, for the rest of their lives.
"Three minutes to landing," Vegeta said.
"Bring me strength," Furto mumbled, gripping Bulma's hand tighter.
********************************************************************
---Chapter 25!!! Yes! They were together! Yay! And it definitely happened. No dream, no illusion. It was all real! Woo!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Doon and Jemalin...
Consult my fanfiction.net profile for lemon.