Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, I do not own Dragonball Z; hence I do not own Vegita, Bulma, or any other DBZ character who may appear in my works. Darn. winks
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"Now, now, that's no way to behave. And to think, I thought you a lady." His voice was like a steel fist in a kid glove—cordiality and refinement overlaying a ruthless cold. His tone showed no strain, only a mocking hint of scandalized breeding and an edge of amusement. Damn him, he was laughing at her! She felt a growl rising in her throat, but lifted herself high, chin raised as though she felt neither the sting of her mouth or the trickle of blood down her chin.
"The title of lady does not mean the bearer is helpless," she haughtily replied. "Only that she avoids coarseness until it is necessary."
He chuckled, a soft, low note of velvet that somehow sent shivers down her spine, and slowly applauded. "Very clever, my lady. Very clever indeed…but I'm afraid you'll find your cleverness won't avail you much now." Steel glinted in his cold, dark eyes and all her strength was scarcely enough to keep the tremor from her voice as she replied.
"What do you want with me?" she demanded.
The dark man grinned lightly. "Not so clever now, are we, my lady?" He ran his eyes over her proudly, studying her sky blue eyes and rare blue locks. There could be no mistake, she was just as described. A beauty that went beyond the rarity of her coloring—ivory skin layered over delicate bones to create uniquely feminine beauty, like a statue of a goddess. It could be no other—this was Lady Bulma.
He reached out and brushed fingers down her jaw line. She abruptly jerked away, just as he expected—but not before a smirk slipped into place on his face. "Daughter of a powerful lord, fiancé of an equally powerful one. And you cannot guess what I might want with you?"
Bulma shuddered with rage. Nothing, nothing, nothing that he could do was worse than using her against her family. How despicable could this man be? Don't be ridiculous Bulma, he attacked your ship, killed your escort, and kidnapped you—did you really expect him to be kind? She lifted her chin. "You won't get away with this. My father and Tallis won't allow it." Pride rung clear in her voice as she pictured her father, standing tall and strong, with her fiancé at his side—handsome and dashing.
Vegita laughed, hard and cold, but clearly amused at her preposterous posturing. "Don't be ridiculous. They love you—and therein lies their weakness. They will do whatever is necessary to have you back."
"My lady! You should not stand so near the edge!"
Bulma smiled and turned around to face the familiar, plump figure. "Oh, don't fuss Sarah. I'm fine!" Bulma turned back to face the gray-green vista, relishing the wind blowing through her loose hair.
Behind her Sarah gasped, scandalized. "My lady—your hair! Oh, and look at your dress, all spattered with salt water…oh, my lady, I'm afraid you may have ruined it!"
Bulma half-turned and laughed, a light, airy sound like music—joy made audible. "Sarah, there are worse things than loose hair and spoiled frocks!"
The maid clucked her tongue impatiently. "My lady, to have your hair down in front of so many men is indecent!"
Bulma completed the turn and copied her companion's stern posture teasingly. "Sarah, to have my hair up in the sea wind is dreadfully uncomfortable! Besides, I doubt very much if the finest of my father's navy are much discomfited by loose hair." She offered a sweetly charming smile to the nearest sailor, causing a light blush to grace his youthful face.
Sarah tried to look stern, but couldn't help but laugh….
Bulma sat up abruptly, gasping in shock. Her hands began to shake as she recalled the last time she had seen Sarah's face—streaked with tears…tears and…and blood…. The fine trembling spread to her whole body and grew into violent shuddering; finally she could no longer hold back the tears that she had fought for the whole wearying day.
She reached out and pulled her pillow firmly against her chest, curling around it and burying her face as she laid her weary body down again. Hot tears soaked the cloth, making it cling to her face. She continued to sob, clinging to the pillow in spite of the suffocating fabric. She felt sure the damp warmth was the closest thing to a compassionate touch she would find on this ship.
The sapphire lady cried until her muscles were sore with it; until she had sobbed out all her pain and loss, all her rage and lust for vengeance, all her fear of the vicious captain and her worry that her father and her love would be strong enough not to rescue her. Finally, she cried just a bit in self-disappointment; in bitter sorrow that she had, for a moment, been charmed by Vegita's clever tongue and feral eyes.
"Good morning, my lady!" The voice was a pleasant light tenor, cheerful and friendly—and loud enough to pull her from her exhausted doze.
Bulma sat up, rubbing the salty grit from her eyes and trying to get a good look at who had come into her room. The man was fairly tall, with dark hair and laughing eyes, and his smile as he met her gaze was kind.
"The captain told me I am to see to your needs—would you like to eat breakfast with him, or in here?" As he asked he opened the door to the closets built into her room—she had seen them the night before, but had been too tired to wonder what was in them—and began to dig through them industriously.
"In here, thank you," Bulma replied quietly, her stomach turning at the mere thought of seeing Vegita again—she wasn't sure she would be able to eat in his presence.
"Yes madam…in that case, I'll fetch along a tray shortly." The young man turned back and studied her hard for a moment. Suddenly feeling a bit exposed, Bulma pulled the blankets around herself more tightly…but he quickly grinned reassuringly and delved back into the mysterious cupboards. As a lady of breeding, Bulma found herself quite unsure what to think of this character…coming into her room while she slept? Then again, he had such kind eyes…and he had smiled at her sweetly, rather than lasciviously or cruelly.
The dark haired stranger abruptly emerged from his temporary den, grinning adorably in triumph. "This should do perfectly!" he called with remarkable enthusiasm before pulling out a dress. It was prettily, though modestly, cut and in a soft but practical pale blue lambswool. As he stepped away from the closet, Bulma spotted a veritable warren of women's clothes. Does he kidnap women often? she wondered wryly…but wisely chose not to voice her question. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.
Her new keeper laid the dress out for her carefully and gave her another reassuring smile. "Your other dress was in a bit of a state—I'll see what I can do about it later. But for now, this should be perfect. I'll go and fetch you some breakfast; you can clean up a bit if you like." His considerate tone and the gentleness in his eyes spoke of understanding for the tearstains marking her face, and for a moment Bulma felt tears draw near the surface again. But no. She would manage. He nodded toward a steaming basin of water—hallelujah, fresh, by its smell!—and left her in peace for the moment.
Slowly, Bulma crept out of her bed, stretching muscles made tense by fear and stress and sorrow. She spent a long moment just inhaling the blissful steam before stripping off the shift she had slept in and seizing the washcloth. To wash with fresh, hot water on board ship was a luxury…to do so with the soap her aide had provided, heaven!
Upon returning to the dress, she found that the young man had also discreetly laid out clean undergarments—bless him! Being clean and putting on fresh clothes from the skin out helped Bulma regain her spirits like nothing else could have; in her opinion, that boy was an angel. The dress fit like a glove, and the dignified lady of yesterday's encounter found herself dancing and twirling like a child as she took up the brush next to her washing basin and, with the help of soap and water, repaired the damage done her hair.
With a final twirl, she settled into a chair and managed to take a fair look at the cabin assigned to her. It was actually quite nice; a comfortable bed, a small table with a pair of chairs, the table holding the basin with a mirror above it…really quite comfortable. And even tastefully decorated; and on a ship full of men!
A light tap sounded on the door and, pleased with the courtesy, Bulma responded with a sweetly voiced, "Come in!"
To her surprise, her assigned helper was not holding a tray of food, and his expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry my lady, but the captain respectfully requests your presence at his breakfast."
Dread filled Bulma's stomach with rocks as she watched his helpless shrug and knew that this was no request—it was a demand.
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AN: Heh, gotta love that ending. And yes, the guy being such a doll to Bulma is someone from the show…first person to post a review guessing correctly who it is gets a cookie! grins Oh, and you don't count, Takarra. Please review!