Last time:
He starred at her limp body for a moment, unsure of what to do. The tears were on his cheeks now and he cared not that those in the room were witness to his breakdown as he cradled Bulma in his arms.
"The cure is finished," Furto said solemnly, not being able to hold back his pain. "I'm so sorry Vegeta. I loved her too."
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"Go," Vegeta nearly whimpered, having to clear his throat. "Leave me with her." Never had he experienced such pain; never had someone been so close, and never had they been ripped so violently away. It was more than he could handle, and the pain was unbearable. What he wouldn't give to trade places with her. He was the one who deserved death after all he'd done, not her. She was an innocent, brought down in the prime of her life, and bringing their child down with her.
He'd never known this kind of pain before—Even when his father perished when Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta, he didn't shed a single tear. He simply starred off and accepted that he would now be under Frieza's complete control—It was like a dull throb in the pit of his stomach that jerked at his soul and made him want to be sick all over the floor.
Did she know peace in Other World? Was she being guided with all the other spirits in to see King Yemma and then be forever an eternal wisp of smoke, only floating and dreaming? She couldn't know pain anymore, and for that Vegeta felt a kind of bittersweet relief. No pain for her; it was all taken into him and he could hardly bear it. He could hardly keep his hold on her limp body and look at her face, her eyes closed, her mouth partially open; a deep red inside. He cursed Kami that she had had to suffer as much as she did; for the Eskes, for the attacks, for the blood, for…for taking her away.
It didn't faze him in the least that he could cry for this fragile female. He'd never cried for another being before, always for himself, and always over the trivial misfortunes in a battle. It didn't seem strange, or out of place, or dishonorable to be crying for one he loved so much. All that was Saiyan in him seemed to fade in those moments, and a new human soul seemed to take him over and push at the agonizing emotion.
And what could he possibly tell her family and friends on Earth? And he knew that he absolutely had to do this, for he knew that's what she would want, and now that she was gone it felt easier to give her such requests. He would tell the truth, of course, no doubt, but would they believe him? "She contracted a fatal disease and died moments before the cure could be administered." Right, he thought. They would never buy it. They would think he'd killed her once landed to "finally be rid of such a nuisance". Perhaps Goku would believe him, but the others—her family?—they would feel the pain tenfold, thinking that she died at his hands in some brutal arrogant fashion. And peace would never come. Oh, when had he ever wanted to be immortal?
They would never believe that he'd fallen so deeply in love with their Bulma, either. His heart's ache would never be realized to anyone, especially not the still woman who lay cold beside him, the one who had brought him around in such a way he never thought possible or even wanted. All his life he'd been taught the exact opposite of love, and now that it was here, looming over him like some sick disease cloud, he felt the exact same pain that had always been evident in his childhood. But the woman had led him to believe that this love was some glorious thing that would solve all the problems in the universe if only every being held that feeling. But his heart was heavy and sank in his chest. He loved this fallen earthling and yet the pain remained.
You left me, he thought. Alone and passionately in love with a woman who would never again look into his eyes and beg for affection.
"I'll bring you back with the Dragonballs," he whispered, narrowing his brow. But as soon as the words passed his lips he knew such a thing wasn't possible. No one could be brought back to life if they died of natural causes, and Denj-sa, a disease, was about as natural as old age. There was no undoing what had been done. Her fate was sealed, and so was his.
He didn't wipe at his tears. They would have to absorb back into his skin because there was no way he'd get rid of them. They were for her; they were the only thing he could give her now. And she was blind to them.
"I hate you woman," he sighed, laying her back on her pillows, her face appearing serene and almost alive. But no breath was coming from her lips, and her eyes beneath their lids didn't move.
He turned away from her, unable for a moment to look at her face.
"This is unfair what you did to me." But his words were useless and did nothing to numb the pain.
Gone. Gone forever.
He would have to bury her—and there was no way he'd allow anyone else to do it—on Fewksm. Carrying her body back to Earth would be unthinkable, and he knew he wouldn't be able to endure with her there, so lifeless and quiet. He'd been the cause of several deaths on Fewksm; he'd seen the funerals and knew the rituals. Her body would be put in the ground, of course, a hole lined with smoothed-down stones with a puddle of water, maybe two inches deep, at the bottom. He wasn't sure what the water was for, or even the rocks, but he knew no other funeral rituals. All deaths on Planet Vegeta had been caused by the Saiyans and the bodies were simply tossed into huge holes and never thought of again. If a Saiyan died in battle, their remains would stay on the planet they died on. Oh well, it didn't matter to him how they buried her, just so long as her body was safe beneath the Earth and remembered.
"I'll remember this moment too, woman," he said bitterly, wanting so badly to be angry with her for leaving him. The Elpinosus was complete. The cure was right there, sitting on the table, and she could not have it. After all they'd been through, and she'd died mere seconds before the cure was palpable. Now all things seemed useless and trivial. Nothing was real and the universe was slowly crumbling.
"You best remember a whole lot more," came a scratchy voice, choked with a cough. A spray of blood splattered on the front of Vegeta's shirt.
"Holy Kami," he murmured, his limbs seeming to have forgotten how to work. She was alive! Coughing and in intense pain, but alive and—angry?
"Get the cure, damn it," she hissed, clutching her stomach. A burning pain shot through her side and she almost gave in to fainting. "I really don't think I have time enough for you to sit by and wonder how I'm still alive!"
He launched himself at Furto's workbench, snatched up a vial of Elpinosus—such a small amount for all its trouble—and tipped it into Bulma's mouth, giving her no warning. He was NOT going to lose her again!
She coughed painfully for several moments, wincing at the sour medicine.
"Now get Furto," she wheezed, her voice too strained now for much else. He did as he was told, shoving the disheveled Fewsk into the room to be stunned into shock. He ran to Bulma at once, then over to his table for the wooden bowl, and back again, frantic to speechlessness.
Finally he said, "I don't know how you are living, but I don't think I've ever been so relieved!" She nodded at his affection and gently pushed his hand away from the bowl that she could hold herself. "You will bleed slowly for another hour as the Elpinosus cleans your system of the disease. And I know you're in great pain still, but I can give you no other medication lest we have complications." He glanced back at Vegeta and motioned toward his workbench. "You are staying with her I presume." He nodded. "Then you will give her more Elpinosus in six hours, and then one last time six hours after that?" He nodded again, his body shaking on the inside still from the shock of it all. "I'll leave you two to yourselves. Call me if I'm needed." He exited the room and they heard him give a great howl of joy, and then he ran down the hall.
Bulma sat up straight in the bed, spitting out blood, calm and content, as if she hadn't almost just died.
She turned to Vegeta and smiled.
"Sorry I gave you a scare," she laughed; a little hesitant. The truth was that she was still a little shaken too. That really could have been it for her. "I fainted is all 'cause my windpipe was blocked or something. And then I came to and I tried to move or speak, but I couldn't for several minutes, and you were turned the other way."
"There's no need for justifications," he said, coming over finally to sit beside her. He sat in silence for a long while, simply starring at her, taking in all her beautiful features and marveling at the fact that she was alive. "You're cured," he said, though more for himself. Just hearing the words brought a relaxing calmness. No more pain, a little shaky, a little after-shock, but no more pain, and she wasn't gone. "You looked dead."
"You cried," she whispered. If she said the words any louder they might not be true.
"I'm not incapable of such an action," was his answer. It took all his will power to keep from grabbing her up and kissing her. But she was so frail and weak; he didn't want to hurt her. She seemed so verboten and mysterious in her simple black tee-shirt and jeans. Almost as if she were out of his league, a woman he could never have and was doomed to forever dream about.
"I see." She smiled; a small dribble of blood came down her chin. She wiped it up and looked away. She'd never felt more hideous in her entire life; she was pale, and bony, and veiny, and all around sickly looking. And that was only her arms and hands, she didn't dare ask for a mirror. The last thing she wanted to see right now was her face. "What would you have done had I died?"
"In a sense you did," he mumbled. "For a moment."
"A moment you'll remember?"
"I would have buried you, the proper way as custom on Fewskm."
"A funeral, of course. But what would YOU do?"
"I meant it literally. I would physically put you in the hole. It's a custom. I know you better than any other on this planet, so the right would have been reserved for me." He looked away suddenly, glancing for a moment at the vials of Elpinosus on the table, and then the shattered one on the floor. He hadn't remembered breaking it. "Don't talk about it anymore. It's not something I'd wish to relive." Flash of her limp "dead" body. He shook his head.
"You really didn't want me to die?" He couldn't know how much emotion was behind that simple question.
"I thought you were supposed to be a genius," he scoffed. "Or at least you could remember what I said to you ten minutes ago."
"Ok," she laughed. "Question answered." Then she added, "When do you think we can start heading home? I mean, I love it here, and Furto, I'll miss him so much, but I've been away from home for too long."
"Soon," he said. "You need rest, a lot of rest, before we can even think of leaving this house. Furto will want to monitor you, all that healer nonsense, and then we can leave the planet. But I'm sure you want to say your good-byes," he added with much dislike, rolling his eyes.
"Well of course I do. I've known Furto for months now, I knew Uvagon for much less, and I had a hard time saying good-bye to him." Her voice was building in strength the more she talked. "It's so easy to get attached to people—er—beings when they're so nice and hospitable like Uvagon and Furto." She sighed. "I really am going to miss Furto so much. We've been through one hell of a ride in the past few months and somehow I can't imagine my life without him. You know what I mean? Heh, of course not. Sorry. I guess I'm still a little shaken up is all. Almost died back there and here I am, alive and kicking and—"
Vegeta leaned in suddenly, unable to stay at such a distance anymore—no matter how forbidden the woman seemed—and placed his hand on the back of her head. Their lips almost touched, but then Bulma pulled back quickly and spit into the bowl.
"Sorry. But I didn't want to get blood in your mouth."
"When we bond that's exactly what will happen. I like the taste by instinct." The words rolled off his tongue with such confidence; they seemed so natural to him, as if he'd proposed bonding to a hundred other women.
"When we bond," she sighed, repeating his words. "Yeah, that sounds about right." She leaned in to kiss him, but it was he who pulled back this time.
"You would be my mate now?" He searched her eyes intently, holding her gaze for a bit longer than she felt was comfortable.
"Yes, I think I could handle that. Hell, I almost died today. I think I can handle just about anything."
"What's changed?"
"Nothing," she laughed. "You're the same as you've always been and you'll never change."
"And?"
"And I want you as you are. I realize that now." She looked up into his eyes, hating that they made her feel so weak, so vulnerable, so in love. "Besides, I think I understand you a little better now. Let's just leave it at that."
"As if I'd want to inquire about it," he said. She laughed. Ah, this was Vegeta, and she loved it. "In two days, once your full strength is back, we will bond. And not until. I can't have you weak, it will only cause harm."
"You better watch it, Vegeta. It almost sounds like you care about me."
And his answer came in the form of a passionate kiss.
**********************************************************
Furto, Senju, and Golana greed unanimously that they should keep away from Bulma and Vegeta for the next twelve hours; maybe more. The incident that had occurred was straining on all parties involved, and created quite an uproar throughout the home. Vegeta had almost lost the only woman strong enough to steal his heart, and Furto almost lost a very dear friend. For ten minutes the universe stopped to mourn the fallen beauty.
"I'm concerned about permanent damage," Senju said, his face drawn and solemn; too much tension for his emotions.
"To what?" Furto asked. He'd never considered such an idea.
"Her throat and internal organs," Golana answered for him. She was leafing through a large stack of medical documents, trying to find any scrap of information she could on Denj-sa. Of course, as a healer, she knew all the basics, but it was an ancient disease; there must have been at least one case in the past involving an alien. "She is an alien. We must always keep that in mind. Her immune system may have reacted differently to Denj-sa than would ours. She may be weaker than she's letting on, as well. Furto, she would tell you, if asked, if she felt weak?"
"As soon as I can pry Vegeta away, I'll speak with her. She's too concerned about her child to deny such information. Quite possibly she'll tell me before asked."
"We should all examine her," Senju said gravely, then added, "And any other healer within a mile radius. Everyone's opinion is important, and not all healers have the same eyes."
Golana smiled. "I think several healers' eyes is a marvelous idea. Hopefully it won't make Bulma feel too crowded."
"I'd be more worried about Vegeta's reaction."
"Why?"
"He loves her, Golana. It's plain to us all. Plus he's a male, and a Saiyan. Nothing can shake his instincts. He'll be extremely protective of her…Do you think they've bonded yet?"
Furto shook his head.
"Why not? Surely neither can deny their feelings after such an occurrence. They are meant to be together."
"And they shall. But Vegeta is very intelligent. He would never even consider bonding with her until she was completely recovered. Though I do suspect they're both in agreement. And I believe a celebration's in order."
"I agree," Golana said. "But when are they leaving? I don't want them to go. Vegeta is very dear to me, and I've become rather attached to Bulma as well. She just has this—"
"—grace," Senju finished with a smile. Golana nodded.
"Yes, exactly. She has this perfect grace and such a pure soul. Only someone with those attributes could harness a soul like Vegeta's. Their fate was written in the heavens at the beginning of time."
"Yes, she's simply amazing. Only she could 'die' and then come back to life with an attitude." He laughed and glanced behind him as Jemalin entered the room. She had her arms loosely folded across her stomach, her chocolate silk dress clinging to her every womanly curve. Her face was glowing. "Join us?" he said to her, waving her over. She obliged, her smile seeming to pull hard on the corners of her mouth painfully. She sat beside Furto and grabbed his hand. Immediately he sensed something different about her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, catching his mate's eyes. He could look into her eyes for an eternity and not tire of them. How had he endured so long without her?
"Remember our discussion early last night? You didn't think it was possible for us to conceive a child because our races were so extremely different and utterly incompatible."
"Yes. Our genes would not be able to create a new life. If they did, we'd create a new species."
"And then I told you that our fate could not be to live childlessly."
"Jemalin, dear, I loathe your pain, but I could not let you believe that we could conceive a child. It's simply scientifically impossible."
"Well," Senju laughed, tossing Furto the Fewskm equivalent to an apple, which had been sitting in a bowl on the table beside him. "I believe you and your lovely bride have just defied science. Congratulations."
"Now there's more to celebrate," Golana chimed in. "Oh Furto! You're to be a father!"
"But—" Furto began, then stopped himself abruptly and kissed Jemalin. "You know what? It doesn't matter how impossible it seemed, it's real, and you're pregnant, and we're to have a baby!" He took a deep, concentrated breath. "We're to be parents..…"
************************************************************
"It's alright, Vegeta," Bulma sighed, not wincing in the least when Furto stuck her arm with a needle to draw some blood. "They're healers. They know what they're doing. I'm in no danger, and neither is our child."
"You can trust me, Vegeta," Furto said. "You know that."
Vegeta grunted at them and finally took a seat in the chair Golana had told him to sit in when they'd come in a half an hour earlier.
"Now, how many healers am I to be examined by? Will it take very long? I'm awfully tired."
"Myself, Senju, and Golana will examine you right now. Then you can rest and re-energize, and then I'll bring in the rest of the healers in our home, and those in some neighboring homes. You must understand that we do not know all there is about Denj-sa in regards to aliens. Golana and some four or five other Fewsks have been searching our medical archives for the past twelve hours for any information that can help. As of now we can only test your health and pray that there is no permanent damage. Your throat is soar, and we're not sure if that is only temporary, and we cannot even guess as to how stable your internal organs are." He sighed. Bearer of bad news. "It's extremely rare that any being contracting Denj-sa lives to reach such stages as you did. I was fortunate. A massive breakout of Denj-sa occurred one month before I ignorantly contracted it, and a cure was available shortly afterwards, though I cannot say there was no pain or suffering…..I'm sorry. I'm not helping your soul handle this information."
"It's quite alright," Bulma assured him. "I knew there couldn't be no 'scars' after such a horrific disease. My body went through so many different temperature changes, I'm surprised I lasted so long."
"That's the silver lining, my dear," Senju said, gently pushing Furto aside for his turn to examine her. "Your case may be the first of its kind. You survived well past any other fatal case of Denj-sa. Your immune system is strong. We'd only ever read about Fewsks or others who'd reached the stages you have, and you survived. I see a bright future ahead for you…..and Vegeta."
*******************************************************
Bulma twirled around, her dress twirling out around her, elated to finally, completely, and utterly be cured of Denj-sa. Jemalin had offered her one of her dresses to wear that evening for a celebration that Furto and the others were throwing together. It was a long dress, with belled sleeves, exposing her shoulders and fitting nearly perfectly. It was pure silk, or at least whatever substance silk was the equivalent to on Doon, and a beautiful pearl color. She almost felt unworthy to wear a Princess's gown.
"You look magnificent, Bulma," Jemalin said, pulling a comb through her aquamarine hair. "I'm going to secure your hair away from your face. Everyone will want an unobscured view of the healthy you."
"Is Vegeta receiving the same treatment? Or will he wear sweats to the party?" Bulma laughed. She could just picture Furto trying to force him into a tux, though of course she knew Fewsks didn't wear such things.
"Senju's sister, Igguld, makes all the garments they wear around here. She's already made several dresses for me, without me even knowing about them until they were thrust into my arms. She's quite a wonderful woman, though she keeps mostly to herself. She's lost several children in birth before and cannot bear to be around anyone for very long. Her mate, I'm told, contracted Denj-sa one year ago and did not survive it. Furto said that she will make a suitable garment for Vegeta, whatever he chooses."
"Then he will be coming in sweats."
Jemalin only smiled. She'd already seen the sketches for Vegeta's attire, as strange as it looked to her.
They finished prepping themselves for the celebration just as Furto came bouncing into the room. He'd been on pins and needles for the past two days, elated beyond belief about something, and Bulma knew it was much more than her being cured.
"My," he sighed upon entering the room. "You ladies will steal the spotlight tonight." He looped his arm through Jemalin's, and, just as Bulma was about to leave, he pulled her back and looped her with his remaining arm. "Don't think I wouldn't escort you, Bulma." She only laughed and smiled, and walked with them to their destination.
A large tent of sorts had been erected outside, over a wide "courtyard", though it was only slabs of flat rocks. Bulky wooden tables were set up at one end, piled high with Fewskm foods and beverages, and a group of eight or so Fewsks sat, or stood, at the other end, holding all sorts of strange objects. Bulma gathered that they were musicians and they would be playing music for the party. She hadn't realized how similar her race was to the Fewsks.
"Food and music? It's like having a party on earth."
"Of course it is," Furto laughed. "Where do you think we obtained the idea? Ages ago Fewskm celebrations were quiet and calm. Now we understand your need for lively music and dancing, though we have our own forms of those. Vegeta knows them."
"Vegeta dances?" she gasped. "Now that's news."
"Yes, of course. All royals, no matter what planet, are trained for courtly balls. Even the Saiyans held such balls, though they were few and primitive. Before he attacked Fewskm long ago he was here for several days, calculating his moves, I suppose. Well, we did not know the meaning of his visit, and so we threw him a celebration in honor of the Saiyans, and there Golana taught him to dance as we do. He'll never admit it to you, but he enjoyed himself; I believe I may have seen a slight smile."
"Stop talking about me," came a rough voice from behind the three. Bulma turned sharply on her heels, nearly fainting at the sight of him.
"Holy Kami. Vegeta! What—How—"
"Did you think I knew nothing about earthling dress? Kami knows I've spent much to long on that planet."
"But a tuxedo? How did you know?"
"I just told you, woman. I saw what other males wore, I copied it for Igguld. Simple. Now come here." Before she had a chance to obey, he already had his arms snaked around her waist, her lips tight to his. She gasped when he released her.
"You're a masterpiece, Vegeta," she sighed, falling into his embrace. "Only the boots don't match."
"Does nothing please you?"
"You please me. Now shut up so I can actually enjoy your company."
"Woman—" But she wasn't going to let him continue, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. She melted in his arms, almost unable to hear when the "band" began to play their strange instruments. And before she could process it, she and Vegeta were swaying slowly to the music, the way he'd seen her do with Yamcha on earth, ignoring all the confused looks of the Fewsks, and not caring that he was giving in a little more to this frail earth woman each day.
"Promise me we will never be separated," Bulma whispered, her eyes now closed.
Vegeta rested his head against her forehead and breathed deeply the scent of her hair.
"On my honor," he replied formally, then gave in to all the instincts that were bombarding his mind.
Bulma didn't even have time to feel the tiny razors pierce her skin.
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---Chapter 30!! See! See! Seeeeee!? I told you I wouldn't disappoint you, and if I didn't, then I'm telling you now :P She's alive and well! Yay! And oh! What's this!? What is Vegeta doing!? Oooo! I'm in love with him, lol. Why can't I be Bulma? –grunt—Anyways, I hope you all liked it, and give me all feedback you can. Thanks!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo. You are now entering the Twilight Zone!…Heehee, in other words, I ain't tellin'!
Note: Chapter 31 is complete and being checked by my beta-reader. It should be out shortly, woo!
He starred at her limp body for a moment, unsure of what to do. The tears were on his cheeks now and he cared not that those in the room were witness to his breakdown as he cradled Bulma in his arms.
"The cure is finished," Furto said solemnly, not being able to hold back his pain. "I'm so sorry Vegeta. I loved her too."
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"Go," Vegeta nearly whimpered, having to clear his throat. "Leave me with her." Never had he experienced such pain; never had someone been so close, and never had they been ripped so violently away. It was more than he could handle, and the pain was unbearable. What he wouldn't give to trade places with her. He was the one who deserved death after all he'd done, not her. She was an innocent, brought down in the prime of her life, and bringing their child down with her.
He'd never known this kind of pain before—Even when his father perished when Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta, he didn't shed a single tear. He simply starred off and accepted that he would now be under Frieza's complete control—It was like a dull throb in the pit of his stomach that jerked at his soul and made him want to be sick all over the floor.
Did she know peace in Other World? Was she being guided with all the other spirits in to see King Yemma and then be forever an eternal wisp of smoke, only floating and dreaming? She couldn't know pain anymore, and for that Vegeta felt a kind of bittersweet relief. No pain for her; it was all taken into him and he could hardly bear it. He could hardly keep his hold on her limp body and look at her face, her eyes closed, her mouth partially open; a deep red inside. He cursed Kami that she had had to suffer as much as she did; for the Eskes, for the attacks, for the blood, for…for taking her away.
It didn't faze him in the least that he could cry for this fragile female. He'd never cried for another being before, always for himself, and always over the trivial misfortunes in a battle. It didn't seem strange, or out of place, or dishonorable to be crying for one he loved so much. All that was Saiyan in him seemed to fade in those moments, and a new human soul seemed to take him over and push at the agonizing emotion.
And what could he possibly tell her family and friends on Earth? And he knew that he absolutely had to do this, for he knew that's what she would want, and now that she was gone it felt easier to give her such requests. He would tell the truth, of course, no doubt, but would they believe him? "She contracted a fatal disease and died moments before the cure could be administered." Right, he thought. They would never buy it. They would think he'd killed her once landed to "finally be rid of such a nuisance". Perhaps Goku would believe him, but the others—her family?—they would feel the pain tenfold, thinking that she died at his hands in some brutal arrogant fashion. And peace would never come. Oh, when had he ever wanted to be immortal?
They would never believe that he'd fallen so deeply in love with their Bulma, either. His heart's ache would never be realized to anyone, especially not the still woman who lay cold beside him, the one who had brought him around in such a way he never thought possible or even wanted. All his life he'd been taught the exact opposite of love, and now that it was here, looming over him like some sick disease cloud, he felt the exact same pain that had always been evident in his childhood. But the woman had led him to believe that this love was some glorious thing that would solve all the problems in the universe if only every being held that feeling. But his heart was heavy and sank in his chest. He loved this fallen earthling and yet the pain remained.
You left me, he thought. Alone and passionately in love with a woman who would never again look into his eyes and beg for affection.
"I'll bring you back with the Dragonballs," he whispered, narrowing his brow. But as soon as the words passed his lips he knew such a thing wasn't possible. No one could be brought back to life if they died of natural causes, and Denj-sa, a disease, was about as natural as old age. There was no undoing what had been done. Her fate was sealed, and so was his.
He didn't wipe at his tears. They would have to absorb back into his skin because there was no way he'd get rid of them. They were for her; they were the only thing he could give her now. And she was blind to them.
"I hate you woman," he sighed, laying her back on her pillows, her face appearing serene and almost alive. But no breath was coming from her lips, and her eyes beneath their lids didn't move.
He turned away from her, unable for a moment to look at her face.
"This is unfair what you did to me." But his words were useless and did nothing to numb the pain.
Gone. Gone forever.
He would have to bury her—and there was no way he'd allow anyone else to do it—on Fewksm. Carrying her body back to Earth would be unthinkable, and he knew he wouldn't be able to endure with her there, so lifeless and quiet. He'd been the cause of several deaths on Fewksm; he'd seen the funerals and knew the rituals. Her body would be put in the ground, of course, a hole lined with smoothed-down stones with a puddle of water, maybe two inches deep, at the bottom. He wasn't sure what the water was for, or even the rocks, but he knew no other funeral rituals. All deaths on Planet Vegeta had been caused by the Saiyans and the bodies were simply tossed into huge holes and never thought of again. If a Saiyan died in battle, their remains would stay on the planet they died on. Oh well, it didn't matter to him how they buried her, just so long as her body was safe beneath the Earth and remembered.
"I'll remember this moment too, woman," he said bitterly, wanting so badly to be angry with her for leaving him. The Elpinosus was complete. The cure was right there, sitting on the table, and she could not have it. After all they'd been through, and she'd died mere seconds before the cure was palpable. Now all things seemed useless and trivial. Nothing was real and the universe was slowly crumbling.
"You best remember a whole lot more," came a scratchy voice, choked with a cough. A spray of blood splattered on the front of Vegeta's shirt.
"Holy Kami," he murmured, his limbs seeming to have forgotten how to work. She was alive! Coughing and in intense pain, but alive and—angry?
"Get the cure, damn it," she hissed, clutching her stomach. A burning pain shot through her side and she almost gave in to fainting. "I really don't think I have time enough for you to sit by and wonder how I'm still alive!"
He launched himself at Furto's workbench, snatched up a vial of Elpinosus—such a small amount for all its trouble—and tipped it into Bulma's mouth, giving her no warning. He was NOT going to lose her again!
She coughed painfully for several moments, wincing at the sour medicine.
"Now get Furto," she wheezed, her voice too strained now for much else. He did as he was told, shoving the disheveled Fewsk into the room to be stunned into shock. He ran to Bulma at once, then over to his table for the wooden bowl, and back again, frantic to speechlessness.
Finally he said, "I don't know how you are living, but I don't think I've ever been so relieved!" She nodded at his affection and gently pushed his hand away from the bowl that she could hold herself. "You will bleed slowly for another hour as the Elpinosus cleans your system of the disease. And I know you're in great pain still, but I can give you no other medication lest we have complications." He glanced back at Vegeta and motioned toward his workbench. "You are staying with her I presume." He nodded. "Then you will give her more Elpinosus in six hours, and then one last time six hours after that?" He nodded again, his body shaking on the inside still from the shock of it all. "I'll leave you two to yourselves. Call me if I'm needed." He exited the room and they heard him give a great howl of joy, and then he ran down the hall.
Bulma sat up straight in the bed, spitting out blood, calm and content, as if she hadn't almost just died.
She turned to Vegeta and smiled.
"Sorry I gave you a scare," she laughed; a little hesitant. The truth was that she was still a little shaken too. That really could have been it for her. "I fainted is all 'cause my windpipe was blocked or something. And then I came to and I tried to move or speak, but I couldn't for several minutes, and you were turned the other way."
"There's no need for justifications," he said, coming over finally to sit beside her. He sat in silence for a long while, simply starring at her, taking in all her beautiful features and marveling at the fact that she was alive. "You're cured," he said, though more for himself. Just hearing the words brought a relaxing calmness. No more pain, a little shaky, a little after-shock, but no more pain, and she wasn't gone. "You looked dead."
"You cried," she whispered. If she said the words any louder they might not be true.
"I'm not incapable of such an action," was his answer. It took all his will power to keep from grabbing her up and kissing her. But she was so frail and weak; he didn't want to hurt her. She seemed so verboten and mysterious in her simple black tee-shirt and jeans. Almost as if she were out of his league, a woman he could never have and was doomed to forever dream about.
"I see." She smiled; a small dribble of blood came down her chin. She wiped it up and looked away. She'd never felt more hideous in her entire life; she was pale, and bony, and veiny, and all around sickly looking. And that was only her arms and hands, she didn't dare ask for a mirror. The last thing she wanted to see right now was her face. "What would you have done had I died?"
"In a sense you did," he mumbled. "For a moment."
"A moment you'll remember?"
"I would have buried you, the proper way as custom on Fewskm."
"A funeral, of course. But what would YOU do?"
"I meant it literally. I would physically put you in the hole. It's a custom. I know you better than any other on this planet, so the right would have been reserved for me." He looked away suddenly, glancing for a moment at the vials of Elpinosus on the table, and then the shattered one on the floor. He hadn't remembered breaking it. "Don't talk about it anymore. It's not something I'd wish to relive." Flash of her limp "dead" body. He shook his head.
"You really didn't want me to die?" He couldn't know how much emotion was behind that simple question.
"I thought you were supposed to be a genius," he scoffed. "Or at least you could remember what I said to you ten minutes ago."
"Ok," she laughed. "Question answered." Then she added, "When do you think we can start heading home? I mean, I love it here, and Furto, I'll miss him so much, but I've been away from home for too long."
"Soon," he said. "You need rest, a lot of rest, before we can even think of leaving this house. Furto will want to monitor you, all that healer nonsense, and then we can leave the planet. But I'm sure you want to say your good-byes," he added with much dislike, rolling his eyes.
"Well of course I do. I've known Furto for months now, I knew Uvagon for much less, and I had a hard time saying good-bye to him." Her voice was building in strength the more she talked. "It's so easy to get attached to people—er—beings when they're so nice and hospitable like Uvagon and Furto." She sighed. "I really am going to miss Furto so much. We've been through one hell of a ride in the past few months and somehow I can't imagine my life without him. You know what I mean? Heh, of course not. Sorry. I guess I'm still a little shaken up is all. Almost died back there and here I am, alive and kicking and—"
Vegeta leaned in suddenly, unable to stay at such a distance anymore—no matter how forbidden the woman seemed—and placed his hand on the back of her head. Their lips almost touched, but then Bulma pulled back quickly and spit into the bowl.
"Sorry. But I didn't want to get blood in your mouth."
"When we bond that's exactly what will happen. I like the taste by instinct." The words rolled off his tongue with such confidence; they seemed so natural to him, as if he'd proposed bonding to a hundred other women.
"When we bond," she sighed, repeating his words. "Yeah, that sounds about right." She leaned in to kiss him, but it was he who pulled back this time.
"You would be my mate now?" He searched her eyes intently, holding her gaze for a bit longer than she felt was comfortable.
"Yes, I think I could handle that. Hell, I almost died today. I think I can handle just about anything."
"What's changed?"
"Nothing," she laughed. "You're the same as you've always been and you'll never change."
"And?"
"And I want you as you are. I realize that now." She looked up into his eyes, hating that they made her feel so weak, so vulnerable, so in love. "Besides, I think I understand you a little better now. Let's just leave it at that."
"As if I'd want to inquire about it," he said. She laughed. Ah, this was Vegeta, and she loved it. "In two days, once your full strength is back, we will bond. And not until. I can't have you weak, it will only cause harm."
"You better watch it, Vegeta. It almost sounds like you care about me."
And his answer came in the form of a passionate kiss.
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Furto, Senju, and Golana greed unanimously that they should keep away from Bulma and Vegeta for the next twelve hours; maybe more. The incident that had occurred was straining on all parties involved, and created quite an uproar throughout the home. Vegeta had almost lost the only woman strong enough to steal his heart, and Furto almost lost a very dear friend. For ten minutes the universe stopped to mourn the fallen beauty.
"I'm concerned about permanent damage," Senju said, his face drawn and solemn; too much tension for his emotions.
"To what?" Furto asked. He'd never considered such an idea.
"Her throat and internal organs," Golana answered for him. She was leafing through a large stack of medical documents, trying to find any scrap of information she could on Denj-sa. Of course, as a healer, she knew all the basics, but it was an ancient disease; there must have been at least one case in the past involving an alien. "She is an alien. We must always keep that in mind. Her immune system may have reacted differently to Denj-sa than would ours. She may be weaker than she's letting on, as well. Furto, she would tell you, if asked, if she felt weak?"
"As soon as I can pry Vegeta away, I'll speak with her. She's too concerned about her child to deny such information. Quite possibly she'll tell me before asked."
"We should all examine her," Senju said gravely, then added, "And any other healer within a mile radius. Everyone's opinion is important, and not all healers have the same eyes."
Golana smiled. "I think several healers' eyes is a marvelous idea. Hopefully it won't make Bulma feel too crowded."
"I'd be more worried about Vegeta's reaction."
"Why?"
"He loves her, Golana. It's plain to us all. Plus he's a male, and a Saiyan. Nothing can shake his instincts. He'll be extremely protective of her…Do you think they've bonded yet?"
Furto shook his head.
"Why not? Surely neither can deny their feelings after such an occurrence. They are meant to be together."
"And they shall. But Vegeta is very intelligent. He would never even consider bonding with her until she was completely recovered. Though I do suspect they're both in agreement. And I believe a celebration's in order."
"I agree," Golana said. "But when are they leaving? I don't want them to go. Vegeta is very dear to me, and I've become rather attached to Bulma as well. She just has this—"
"—grace," Senju finished with a smile. Golana nodded.
"Yes, exactly. She has this perfect grace and such a pure soul. Only someone with those attributes could harness a soul like Vegeta's. Their fate was written in the heavens at the beginning of time."
"Yes, she's simply amazing. Only she could 'die' and then come back to life with an attitude." He laughed and glanced behind him as Jemalin entered the room. She had her arms loosely folded across her stomach, her chocolate silk dress clinging to her every womanly curve. Her face was glowing. "Join us?" he said to her, waving her over. She obliged, her smile seeming to pull hard on the corners of her mouth painfully. She sat beside Furto and grabbed his hand. Immediately he sensed something different about her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, catching his mate's eyes. He could look into her eyes for an eternity and not tire of them. How had he endured so long without her?
"Remember our discussion early last night? You didn't think it was possible for us to conceive a child because our races were so extremely different and utterly incompatible."
"Yes. Our genes would not be able to create a new life. If they did, we'd create a new species."
"And then I told you that our fate could not be to live childlessly."
"Jemalin, dear, I loathe your pain, but I could not let you believe that we could conceive a child. It's simply scientifically impossible."
"Well," Senju laughed, tossing Furto the Fewskm equivalent to an apple, which had been sitting in a bowl on the table beside him. "I believe you and your lovely bride have just defied science. Congratulations."
"Now there's more to celebrate," Golana chimed in. "Oh Furto! You're to be a father!"
"But—" Furto began, then stopped himself abruptly and kissed Jemalin. "You know what? It doesn't matter how impossible it seemed, it's real, and you're pregnant, and we're to have a baby!" He took a deep, concentrated breath. "We're to be parents..…"
************************************************************
"It's alright, Vegeta," Bulma sighed, not wincing in the least when Furto stuck her arm with a needle to draw some blood. "They're healers. They know what they're doing. I'm in no danger, and neither is our child."
"You can trust me, Vegeta," Furto said. "You know that."
Vegeta grunted at them and finally took a seat in the chair Golana had told him to sit in when they'd come in a half an hour earlier.
"Now, how many healers am I to be examined by? Will it take very long? I'm awfully tired."
"Myself, Senju, and Golana will examine you right now. Then you can rest and re-energize, and then I'll bring in the rest of the healers in our home, and those in some neighboring homes. You must understand that we do not know all there is about Denj-sa in regards to aliens. Golana and some four or five other Fewsks have been searching our medical archives for the past twelve hours for any information that can help. As of now we can only test your health and pray that there is no permanent damage. Your throat is soar, and we're not sure if that is only temporary, and we cannot even guess as to how stable your internal organs are." He sighed. Bearer of bad news. "It's extremely rare that any being contracting Denj-sa lives to reach such stages as you did. I was fortunate. A massive breakout of Denj-sa occurred one month before I ignorantly contracted it, and a cure was available shortly afterwards, though I cannot say there was no pain or suffering…..I'm sorry. I'm not helping your soul handle this information."
"It's quite alright," Bulma assured him. "I knew there couldn't be no 'scars' after such a horrific disease. My body went through so many different temperature changes, I'm surprised I lasted so long."
"That's the silver lining, my dear," Senju said, gently pushing Furto aside for his turn to examine her. "Your case may be the first of its kind. You survived well past any other fatal case of Denj-sa. Your immune system is strong. We'd only ever read about Fewsks or others who'd reached the stages you have, and you survived. I see a bright future ahead for you…..and Vegeta."
*******************************************************
Bulma twirled around, her dress twirling out around her, elated to finally, completely, and utterly be cured of Denj-sa. Jemalin had offered her one of her dresses to wear that evening for a celebration that Furto and the others were throwing together. It was a long dress, with belled sleeves, exposing her shoulders and fitting nearly perfectly. It was pure silk, or at least whatever substance silk was the equivalent to on Doon, and a beautiful pearl color. She almost felt unworthy to wear a Princess's gown.
"You look magnificent, Bulma," Jemalin said, pulling a comb through her aquamarine hair. "I'm going to secure your hair away from your face. Everyone will want an unobscured view of the healthy you."
"Is Vegeta receiving the same treatment? Or will he wear sweats to the party?" Bulma laughed. She could just picture Furto trying to force him into a tux, though of course she knew Fewsks didn't wear such things.
"Senju's sister, Igguld, makes all the garments they wear around here. She's already made several dresses for me, without me even knowing about them until they were thrust into my arms. She's quite a wonderful woman, though she keeps mostly to herself. She's lost several children in birth before and cannot bear to be around anyone for very long. Her mate, I'm told, contracted Denj-sa one year ago and did not survive it. Furto said that she will make a suitable garment for Vegeta, whatever he chooses."
"Then he will be coming in sweats."
Jemalin only smiled. She'd already seen the sketches for Vegeta's attire, as strange as it looked to her.
They finished prepping themselves for the celebration just as Furto came bouncing into the room. He'd been on pins and needles for the past two days, elated beyond belief about something, and Bulma knew it was much more than her being cured.
"My," he sighed upon entering the room. "You ladies will steal the spotlight tonight." He looped his arm through Jemalin's, and, just as Bulma was about to leave, he pulled her back and looped her with his remaining arm. "Don't think I wouldn't escort you, Bulma." She only laughed and smiled, and walked with them to their destination.
A large tent of sorts had been erected outside, over a wide "courtyard", though it was only slabs of flat rocks. Bulky wooden tables were set up at one end, piled high with Fewskm foods and beverages, and a group of eight or so Fewsks sat, or stood, at the other end, holding all sorts of strange objects. Bulma gathered that they were musicians and they would be playing music for the party. She hadn't realized how similar her race was to the Fewsks.
"Food and music? It's like having a party on earth."
"Of course it is," Furto laughed. "Where do you think we obtained the idea? Ages ago Fewskm celebrations were quiet and calm. Now we understand your need for lively music and dancing, though we have our own forms of those. Vegeta knows them."
"Vegeta dances?" she gasped. "Now that's news."
"Yes, of course. All royals, no matter what planet, are trained for courtly balls. Even the Saiyans held such balls, though they were few and primitive. Before he attacked Fewskm long ago he was here for several days, calculating his moves, I suppose. Well, we did not know the meaning of his visit, and so we threw him a celebration in honor of the Saiyans, and there Golana taught him to dance as we do. He'll never admit it to you, but he enjoyed himself; I believe I may have seen a slight smile."
"Stop talking about me," came a rough voice from behind the three. Bulma turned sharply on her heels, nearly fainting at the sight of him.
"Holy Kami. Vegeta! What—How—"
"Did you think I knew nothing about earthling dress? Kami knows I've spent much to long on that planet."
"But a tuxedo? How did you know?"
"I just told you, woman. I saw what other males wore, I copied it for Igguld. Simple. Now come here." Before she had a chance to obey, he already had his arms snaked around her waist, her lips tight to his. She gasped when he released her.
"You're a masterpiece, Vegeta," she sighed, falling into his embrace. "Only the boots don't match."
"Does nothing please you?"
"You please me. Now shut up so I can actually enjoy your company."
"Woman—" But she wasn't going to let him continue, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. She melted in his arms, almost unable to hear when the "band" began to play their strange instruments. And before she could process it, she and Vegeta were swaying slowly to the music, the way he'd seen her do with Yamcha on earth, ignoring all the confused looks of the Fewsks, and not caring that he was giving in a little more to this frail earth woman each day.
"Promise me we will never be separated," Bulma whispered, her eyes now closed.
Vegeta rested his head against her forehead and breathed deeply the scent of her hair.
"On my honor," he replied formally, then gave in to all the instincts that were bombarding his mind.
Bulma didn't even have time to feel the tiny razors pierce her skin.
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---Chapter 30!! See! See! Seeeeee!? I told you I wouldn't disappoint you, and if I didn't, then I'm telling you now :P She's alive and well! Yay! And oh! What's this!? What is Vegeta doing!? Oooo! I'm in love with him, lol. Why can't I be Bulma? –grunt—Anyways, I hope you all liked it, and give me all feedback you can. Thanks!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo. You are now entering the Twilight Zone!…Heehee, in other words, I ain't tellin'!
Note: Chapter 31 is complete and being checked by my beta-reader. It should be out shortly, woo!