With You
By Pikachu Hunter
Chapter Seventeen: Of Lust And Death II
"Vegeta!" Bulma cried for help, struggling under the weight of Yamcha's forceful body, which was trying to stay atop her as he tore her shirt off of her, not using the buttons, but ripping it from the seams to remove it as fast as possible. Vegeta stood in shock for a few seconds, then ran and pulled Yamcha into the air. Bulma got off the couch as fast as she could, and hid behind the angered Saiyan.
"Now would not be an appropriate time to kill you." Vegeta whispered icily into the boy's face, then threw him clear across the room and turned from his view of the pained human. "Bulma, are you alright?" He asked, taking the shivering girl in his arms and patting her back. Bulma wouldn't stop crying, and the tears kept coming. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at Yamcha, who she could see over Vegeta's shoulder, moaning in the corner and rubbing his arm.
"I think I'm okay..." Bulma broke into more tears, and hugged the Saiyan harder.
"Bulma, it's alright now." Vegeta lifted her chin with his free hand, and stared into her blue crystal eyes. They were full of nothing but pure fear and terror...so much like his own eyes, yet...a world away from him. Bulma sniffled and gave the smallest smile possible, finding it almost unbearable to look him in the eye. "Look at me, Bulma." Vegeta said softly.
"No...I can't. I'm too ashamed." She said, her eyes adverting from his gaze every time they met the coal black iris' of the Saiyan Prince. Vegeta held her still, to stop the twirling and looking away business, and pulled her close. She buried her face in his chest, tear- staining the training suit that had been beneath the armor, which still lay in the gravity room. "It's not your fault..." he mumbled to her, kissing her shoulder comfortingly and running his fingers up the side of her arm. Bulma accepted the kisses and worked her own lips from his chest to his neck, and from his neck to his face, and from there, placing her mouth over his, and closed her eyes lightly.
"Well, don't you two belong in a romance film. Well it's about time we turned this into an action flick!" Yamcha said, staggering towards the pair and grabbing Bulma's arm. Vegeta swatted it away, and turned the kiss around so his back was to Yamcha and Bulma was far from reach. The boy who'd failed simply left the room, deciding to give up for now. At least until he had a good plan to get rid of Vegeta and get what he wanted from Bulma. "Bulma Breifs, I'm coming back here, you know." He said, exiting through the front door, which he didn't have to open, courtesy of Vegeta's raging strength and loathing for doors that did not open automatically and welcome you home.
"Hmph. I await your return, Yamcha. Vegeta will beat the shit out of you." Bulma announced in a mocking manner. It was a true statement, as well, for Vegeta indeed had plans to remove Yamcha's head from his shoulders, cook it in the oven for thirty minutes, baste, repeat process, and give the finished platter to Yamcha's mother the next morning if he ever returned.
Yamcha gave Bulma and Vegeta a dirty look to remember him by before jumping into the same old yellow chopper, which had been sitting on the lawn since that morning. The engine stared, and the propeller twirled, lifting the craft and the pilot far from the ground. No doubt he was going back to his apartment, in the next metropolis, to meet his five girlfriends and set up dates with them simultaneously.
"You know I'll do something terrible to him if her ever does come back. Like kill him." Vegeta told Bulma flatly.
"Uh-huh. I wouldn't have promised him a slow, painful death if I knew you wouldn't give him one. Or maybe we're just two people who won't give Yamcha what he wants: sex, and if he has to die, a quick, painless death."
"Hmm..." Vegeta said. They sat on the couch for a moment, just snuggling together, when Vegeta decided to bring up the subject of Dr. Breifs' sudden death. "Bulma..." he started. he didn't want to say it, but he had to explain before she found out through one of the maids who quite regularly cleaned the gravity room. Bulma rested her head on his shoulder. "Yeah?" She answered.
"Your father..." Vegeta didn't know if he could bring himself to tell Bulma what had happened. He couldn't let those clear, innocent eyes shed tears again, not in the same day for things she didn't do. But he couldn't hide something from her, either. He'd rather tell her when he could be there for her, and comfort her. Now was a better time. Bulma remembered she'd left the gravity room so Vegeta and her father could get everything straightened out, and hopefully that she and Vegeta could be together with his permission. "Where is my father now? And what did you two say when I was gone?"
"Not much. There wasn't that much time between you leaving and screaming." Vegeta answered. Bulma watched him closely. He knew something. "So what did you talk about?" She asked.
"Well, you see, Bulma, I had nothing to do with this, but your father...fell."
"Oh, Kami, no..." Bulma covered her mouth with a hand, and sat up straight.
"Bulma, your father died..." Vegeta said solemnly. Bulma's eyes closed slowly, and she silently cried in Vegeta's ermbrace, wanting it not to be true. "This is not your fault either, Bulma. He just...drank too much. Too much for his body system to handle at once, is all. But you know he'll be going to heaven after Yama judges him, right?" Vegeta comforted.
"How do you know where he'll go?" Bulma asked.
"Because any father who raised such an angel as you shouldn't go to hell. He was a good person, and when he said he didn't want me seeing you, he must have thought he was protecting you, although I must admit he'd been quite drunk. He took good care of you Bulma, and now I'm going to do the same. We're going to get through this, and then we're goign to make a life together. This will be much harder on your mother than you. We should tell her soon." Vegeta said. Bulma dried her tears, with words of encouragement for her father, and she hoped he'd heard him say that about him. But her mother...had gone away on business that morning, shortly after Yamcha was placed on the couch. "Mom will have to wait. I'll give her a call later." Bulma said. "For now, I need to cry for my dad." She said, once again allowed the tears to stream freely down her face with no effort to hold them in. Her father was gone.
By Pikachu Hunter
Chapter Seventeen: Of Lust And Death II
"Vegeta!" Bulma cried for help, struggling under the weight of Yamcha's forceful body, which was trying to stay atop her as he tore her shirt off of her, not using the buttons, but ripping it from the seams to remove it as fast as possible. Vegeta stood in shock for a few seconds, then ran and pulled Yamcha into the air. Bulma got off the couch as fast as she could, and hid behind the angered Saiyan.
"Now would not be an appropriate time to kill you." Vegeta whispered icily into the boy's face, then threw him clear across the room and turned from his view of the pained human. "Bulma, are you alright?" He asked, taking the shivering girl in his arms and patting her back. Bulma wouldn't stop crying, and the tears kept coming. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at Yamcha, who she could see over Vegeta's shoulder, moaning in the corner and rubbing his arm.
"I think I'm okay..." Bulma broke into more tears, and hugged the Saiyan harder.
"Bulma, it's alright now." Vegeta lifted her chin with his free hand, and stared into her blue crystal eyes. They were full of nothing but pure fear and terror...so much like his own eyes, yet...a world away from him. Bulma sniffled and gave the smallest smile possible, finding it almost unbearable to look him in the eye. "Look at me, Bulma." Vegeta said softly.
"No...I can't. I'm too ashamed." She said, her eyes adverting from his gaze every time they met the coal black iris' of the Saiyan Prince. Vegeta held her still, to stop the twirling and looking away business, and pulled her close. She buried her face in his chest, tear- staining the training suit that had been beneath the armor, which still lay in the gravity room. "It's not your fault..." he mumbled to her, kissing her shoulder comfortingly and running his fingers up the side of her arm. Bulma accepted the kisses and worked her own lips from his chest to his neck, and from his neck to his face, and from there, placing her mouth over his, and closed her eyes lightly.
"Well, don't you two belong in a romance film. Well it's about time we turned this into an action flick!" Yamcha said, staggering towards the pair and grabbing Bulma's arm. Vegeta swatted it away, and turned the kiss around so his back was to Yamcha and Bulma was far from reach. The boy who'd failed simply left the room, deciding to give up for now. At least until he had a good plan to get rid of Vegeta and get what he wanted from Bulma. "Bulma Breifs, I'm coming back here, you know." He said, exiting through the front door, which he didn't have to open, courtesy of Vegeta's raging strength and loathing for doors that did not open automatically and welcome you home.
"Hmph. I await your return, Yamcha. Vegeta will beat the shit out of you." Bulma announced in a mocking manner. It was a true statement, as well, for Vegeta indeed had plans to remove Yamcha's head from his shoulders, cook it in the oven for thirty minutes, baste, repeat process, and give the finished platter to Yamcha's mother the next morning if he ever returned.
Yamcha gave Bulma and Vegeta a dirty look to remember him by before jumping into the same old yellow chopper, which had been sitting on the lawn since that morning. The engine stared, and the propeller twirled, lifting the craft and the pilot far from the ground. No doubt he was going back to his apartment, in the next metropolis, to meet his five girlfriends and set up dates with them simultaneously.
"You know I'll do something terrible to him if her ever does come back. Like kill him." Vegeta told Bulma flatly.
"Uh-huh. I wouldn't have promised him a slow, painful death if I knew you wouldn't give him one. Or maybe we're just two people who won't give Yamcha what he wants: sex, and if he has to die, a quick, painless death."
"Hmm..." Vegeta said. They sat on the couch for a moment, just snuggling together, when Vegeta decided to bring up the subject of Dr. Breifs' sudden death. "Bulma..." he started. he didn't want to say it, but he had to explain before she found out through one of the maids who quite regularly cleaned the gravity room. Bulma rested her head on his shoulder. "Yeah?" She answered.
"Your father..." Vegeta didn't know if he could bring himself to tell Bulma what had happened. He couldn't let those clear, innocent eyes shed tears again, not in the same day for things she didn't do. But he couldn't hide something from her, either. He'd rather tell her when he could be there for her, and comfort her. Now was a better time. Bulma remembered she'd left the gravity room so Vegeta and her father could get everything straightened out, and hopefully that she and Vegeta could be together with his permission. "Where is my father now? And what did you two say when I was gone?"
"Not much. There wasn't that much time between you leaving and screaming." Vegeta answered. Bulma watched him closely. He knew something. "So what did you talk about?" She asked.
"Well, you see, Bulma, I had nothing to do with this, but your father...fell."
"Oh, Kami, no..." Bulma covered her mouth with a hand, and sat up straight.
"Bulma, your father died..." Vegeta said solemnly. Bulma's eyes closed slowly, and she silently cried in Vegeta's ermbrace, wanting it not to be true. "This is not your fault either, Bulma. He just...drank too much. Too much for his body system to handle at once, is all. But you know he'll be going to heaven after Yama judges him, right?" Vegeta comforted.
"How do you know where he'll go?" Bulma asked.
"Because any father who raised such an angel as you shouldn't go to hell. He was a good person, and when he said he didn't want me seeing you, he must have thought he was protecting you, although I must admit he'd been quite drunk. He took good care of you Bulma, and now I'm going to do the same. We're going to get through this, and then we're goign to make a life together. This will be much harder on your mother than you. We should tell her soon." Vegeta said. Bulma dried her tears, with words of encouragement for her father, and she hoped he'd heard him say that about him. But her mother...had gone away on business that morning, shortly after Yamcha was placed on the couch. "Mom will have to wait. I'll give her a call later." Bulma said. "For now, I need to cry for my dad." She said, once again allowed the tears to stream freely down her face with no effort to hold them in. Her father was gone.