"I am not going to lose her this time," he said firmly. "Now, how do you plan to get us in?"
Monzaemon only smiled and motioned for them to follow him.
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Bulma's entire form tensed, her fingers turned to claws, clutching the arm of a man she had never seen before. His soft brown eyes and calm manner did not seem to help, and so he allowed her to stay there, her tear-streaked face pressed into his chest. After sometime—and he wasn't sure when—he'd surrendered to her pleas and pulled her back into the dressing room, where he took a seat in her vanity chair and cradled her like a baby in his arms.
How beautiful she was, he thought, his hands instinctively wiping at her tears as quickly as they fell. Yes, of course, she was famous, and rich, and brilliant beyond compare, but how gorgeous she really was no one could ever see, or so he fantasized. He wouldn't allow his mind to stay on thoughts involving her clothes-less body, her gasping breaths, her sweat-covered brow. Oh Kami, what he could do with her!
Suddenly she stirred, her eyes gleaming up at him, as if seeing him for the first time, which could very well be true. Slowly, her lips wet and pursed, she leaned in, her right hand creeping around to the back of his neck. This time it was his turn to tense, as her lips made contact with his.
"Take me away," she whispered, her tongue snaking down to the base of his neck. "Take me away from here, from him. I can't do this."
"You don't even know my name," he breathed. Was his heart racing? Or had it ceased to beat altogether? For a moment he doubted he was even alive anymore.
"I can learn everything in time." At first her voice had been husky, inviting. Now, as her true emotion began to peak through, her voice was shaky, slightly scared. How had he missed that fear in her eyes before? Was she that great an actress that she could have masked such pain for this long? He had been so sure it was lust. "Please, slip out the back door. No one will see us."
"Bulma," he whispered, realizing it was the first time he'd called her by name since their brief meeting. "I—" He wanted to say that there was no possible way they could get away with it; that Takao would hunt them down until he found them, then Kami knows what he would do. "I came here with someone," was what he said instead. Which was, of course, true, for how else could he gain access to the wedding of the year? Tanya, his date, had been his lover—if they could still be called that—for six years on and off. A chance to see her celebrity friends was the only reason he agreed to come.
"Forget her for ten minutes," she whispered huskily, her hot lips on his neck again. How could he resist such need? Such desire? Oh, if only he really could take her out of here. "Pretend I'm her."
His eyes widened as her hand plunged to unbuckle his belt, his button; to unzip his pants. She was not kidding when she said she wanted him. If only he had the willpower to push her away.
She was about to pull up her skirts up, to actually go through with the deed, when there was a frantic knock at the door. Quickly, she climbed off him and checked herself over in the mirror. Almost instantly he had redone his pants and belt, and was to his feet. What would they say when they discovered he was there? She made no attempt to hide him, yanking open the door so fast he didn't have time to think.
"Do you mind?" she spat, and across the room he shuddered. How easily her emotions shifted. Her anger made him almost want to cry.
"The bell has been ringing for ten minutes, Bulma," a woman on the other side said, a deep, menacing frown on her mouth. "What is taking you so long? I sent Yuji to come get you."
"So that's your name," Bulma said, turning to the man behind her. He smiled meekly, his cheeks blushing furiously. "Yuji." Again he shuddered, thinking only the dirtiest of thoughts, and her saying his name over and over in unbridled praise and passion.
"Bulma, do you have cold feet?" the woman pestered, grabbing her wrist almost forcefully. It was more than obvious that these women knew each other. "Takao—"
"I don't—" But then her voice dropped suddenly, and her shoulders sunk. She transformed before Yuji's eyes into the shriveled, crying girl who had sought comfort in his arms. He was beyond ashamed that he could have allowed himself to take advantage of her in such a state.
Slowly, she lifted her head and nodded, giving the unknown woman permission to lead her out of the room and away from him. For a long while he stood, stunned, and staring at the open doorway. And then, pushing all erotic thoughts aside, he puffed himself up and proceeded to the wedding. Would that he could have had her just once. But, then again, wasn't that every man's dream?
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No one in their right mind could say that Bulma Briefs was not the most beautiful bride they had ever seen. Her silky aqua hair was tied back loosely, curls framing her slightly make-uped face, and pearls woven in and out, giving her the appearance of royalty. And that small smile that graced her perfectly full lips; how wonderful that young love could flourish so brilliantly, the guests thought, looking at her in awe as she was led up the aisle by a generic-looking man in a black tuxedo. No one seemed to wonder where her father was, why her mother wasn't crying in the front pew.
Takao, on the other hand, though gorgeous as ever, was sullen and withdrawn, his arms crossed over his broad chest as if this were a chore instead of a blessing. Who wouldn't give their souls to marry such a lusciously wonderful woman? To marry Bulma Briefs herself?
The music of the organ hummed gloriously in the background, its deep soothing rhythms seeming to carry the bride towards the altar, towards her inevitable future. No one could see the apprehension in her eyes, the sheer terror, and how unbearably difficult it was for her to put one foot in front of the other and advance towards the groom. If only one person here knew the truth, this grotesque spectacle would be no more.
"You look like you're going to cry," Takao snapped under his breath as Bulma sidled up beside him, her shoulders tensing. The near-deaf priest had obviously not heard. "I thought you were a good actress."
She looked up and smiled warmly at him, tilting her head just a little to the side, the way she always did in lovey scenes in her movies. It was a pondering sort of look, one that made the audience believe she was examining the person she was looking at, and seeing the reasons for which she'd fallen in love.
The priest cleared his throat, and was about to begin, when there was a rustling from the back of the chapel. Everyone's attention went away from the bride and groom, their eyes falling on Monzaemon Aida, Aki Daishi, and an unknown young man with wild black hair. The sight of Monzaemon received no second glances, but the crowd positively stared at the other two at his sides. He had an invitation, a way to get past the guards at the front doors. How had the others gained access?
"I know it hasn't come to that part yet," Monzaemon said, raising his voice with every word spoken, "but I abject to this marriage."
At the altar, Takao's face turned beet red, his fists clenched at his sides. Instinctively Bulma pinched her eyes shut, anticipating the blow. It hadn't registered yet that Vegeta was there.
The priest fumbled with his bible, mumbled something incoherent, then took a small step back. This had never happened to him before, and he had no clue as to how to proceed, if to proceed.
"Don't tell me your jealousy is getting the better of you, Monzaemon," Takao said playfully; Bulma was the only one who could have seen the fiery anger in his eyes.
"It has nothing to do with jealousy, friend," Monzaemon retorted viciously. And it seemed for the first time Vegeta acknowledged where he was, his eyes traveling towards the altar at the shrunken and shivering bride. It looked for a moment that he would burst, running head on towards her to carry her away; but he simply stood, as if frozen in place, his face void of all emotion. "I do believe the woman's heart belongs to another."
The crowd exploded into a low commotion; a soft hum.
"You?" Takao asked in all seriousness, his anger wavering behind his voice.
"Me?" Monzaemon laughed, holding his stomach dramatically.
"Takao," Aki said suddenly, stepping forward. Takao's head snapped in her direction, his mouth parting slightly, his eyes just faintly wider. He hadn't seen her in his rush of anger at being interrupted. And, now that his eyes were on her, he didn't want to see anyone else. That she'd left didn't matter now. He only wanted to be happy with her for the rest of his life; his devotion to her was almost psychotic. "Takao, please, I asked you once to stop this. I'm begging you now. She doesn't deserve it."
Bulma looked up, her face softening at the sight of Takao's gorgeous younger sister. How she adored her! And how long it had been since she disappeared so many months before. She'd feared she would never see her again.
"Aki," he whispered, his resolve crumbling. How could he go through with marrying Bulma when he knew it was the last thing his dear sister would want? Yet he couldn't see himself not doing it, after having already done so much. He turned abruptly towards Bulma, his eyes boring into her, his bottom lip quivering as if he were about to cry. How beautiful she looked, her tear-laced eyes gleaming at him, her gorgeous designer dress hugging her curves perfectly. That he had ever touched her in anything but a loving way seemed impossible in that moment. Who, in their right mind, would hurt such a stunning creature? And for no reason? "Aki, I—"
But she'd held up her hand to silence him, taking a few more steps forward, though she was nowhere near the altar. A part of her wanted to run up to him and allow him to hold her tightly, the way he had when they were children. But the dominant part was still shattered to the core, and she doubted she could ever see her older brother in a good light again. What horrid things he had done! And without remorse! He cared nothing for the woman standing beside him, the woman he had meant to marry and continue to abuse for the rest of their lives. For a moment she wished she'd never come.
"Takao, promise me you'll get help," she said, catching and holding his gaze. When he looked away her heart sank. No, he would not get help, for he did not believe that he actually had a problem. "Takao, please. It's all I want from you. Then…then we can be how we used to be."
His entire being softened; from the harshness of his eyes, to the tense position he had been standing in. He was the old Takao again, the brother Aki had looked up to and love, and the man which Bulma had believe would save her from all her problems.
"I—" He began, but his voice dropped and his lips turned into a frown. "I don't believe you, dear sister," he said cynically. And all he could think was, What am I doing! She's willing to accept me again and I'm taunting her!! Stop it, Takao! Stop it!
"Takao!"
"I have done nothing wrong," he seethed suddenly, causing a wave of gasps throughout the room. No person present, aside from Aki and Monzaemon, had ever seen Takao as anything but happy. "She—" He pointed a rigid finger at Bulma; she flinched, falling to her knees at his feet. "—is to blame for everything!" But even he didn't believe his words, and he was bracing himself, for the instant Bulma's body fell, Vegeta had taken off and was heading straight for him.
"No!" Bulma cried, springing to life and lunging at the confused figure of Takao. The piercing shot reverberated off the chapel walls, and Takao and Bulma went tumbling to the floor. The wedding was over. The guests were terrified, and someone had run out to call the police. "You won't hurt him!" she yelled, her fist colliding with his jaw for the first time. Kami, how good that felt! When he tried to block her next blow, she jabbed him in the gut, then landed another good punch in the face. "You can hurt me all you want, you bastard, but you will not touch him!"
Oh, this is more than anger, he thought, wanting both to punish her for disobedience, and wrap her in his arms and promise over and over that he would never hurt her again. What was happening to him? Who was he anymore? Certainly not Takao Daishi; certainly not the brother Aki deserved.
The gun rattled on the floor, inches from Vegeta's face on the altar step, his fingers trembling at he reached for it. But it was Bulma's hand that stopped him, as he tried to raise it and seek vengeance. Never before had he held a gun, his finger grazing that sleek trigger; such immense power behind such a tiny piece of metal. How badly he wanted to use this weapon, blow off Takao's head; it was the only justice he deserved.
"Don't," she said, pulling the weapon easily from his hand. "He doesn't deserve to be let off that easily."
She was so calm and serene-looking in that moment, her slightly mussed hair framing her face with an almost angelic glow. It was quite possible that he saw her this way because of what his heart felt, but that didn't matter. She was there, he was there, and there was nothing standing in their way anymore.
Aki kneeled beside her trembling and mildly angry brother, coaxing him to stay put. He wanted to maim Vegeta for having interrupted his plans, but there was nothing he could do now. The police were on their way, and if he ran he would be in ten times worse trouble. Aki keep saying over and over that this was a good thing, that they would provide him with adequate counseling and he could go on living a normal life and put his awful past behind him. Understanding that he had a problem was the first step to recovery, she said. Did he understand that he had a problem? Slowly he nodded, his eyes boring into Vegeta, whose arms were wound tightly around HIS woman.
But Aki was there, and she was the last person he wanted to act out his rage in front of. And so he sat in silence beside her, waiting for the inevitable moment when he would be hauled away and locked up.
And all he could think was, How could I have gone so far?
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She had regressed, naturally, her wedding-dress clad body wrapped in a thick wool blanket from the trunk of the police car. They had been questioning her since the moment they arrived forty-five minutes ago, and Vegeta watched as slowly she began to come apart again. He had known in the back of his head though that this was coming. It was like those moments when a mother can lift a car when her child is trapped underneath. Bulma had been able to come out of her protective shell just long enough to save his life.
And now she was borderline catatonic, and he wshed he could be with her right now.
Aki, after having seen her brother off in one of the many police cars, was now at his side, along with Monzaemon, and a man he did not know. There were no words he could say to the two of them that could express his gratitude. But somehow he knew that they had wanted this to happen just as much as he did.
Takao was officially charged with kidnapping, assault, and attempted murder. Only after both Aki and Bulma pleaded, was the attempted murder charge dropped. Vegeta still didn't understand why Bulma had wanted it dropped, though he decided not to think too much about it. He would ask Bulma sometime in the future when the time was right. As for now, he would help her recover as best as he could.
"Hey Vegeta."
He looked up and forced a smile. Not that he wasn't beyond happy to see her, but the look in her eyes was unbearable to witness. She almost looked ashamed.
"Will you ride with me back to my house?"
He nodded and stood, pulling her instinctively closer. He would find out when they got there whether or not it was appropriate that he stay; whether or not that's what she wanted or needed.
She embraced Monzaemon and Aki before they left, whispering her thanks over and over and giving promises that they would see each other again soon. And then she grabbed the unknown man that Vegeta had been sitting next to on the steps with the others, and hugged him too. The man looked absolutely baffled, but accepted the appreciative gesture. Vegeta knew he would be jealous had this been any other time, any other girl. But with Bulma it was different. She loved him completely and there was no man that could willingly take her from him.
The whole way home they didn't utter a single word to each other. When they were finally inside Capsule Corp., it seemed a gigantic bubble burst, and she was in tears again, though this time of joy, as she hugged and kissed her parents furiously.
He stood back and watched, arms crossed at his chest, wondering what could possibly be going on in her head. There was no way he could stand to be apart from her any longer, whether she needed solitude or not, but he knew that if that was what she wanted, then he would grant it.
Quietly he stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door without a sound, and pulled out his cell phone. His aunt was the first person he called, and he told her exactly what she wanted to hear, that Bulma was safely at home and Takao was in jail. She would tell Taisho for him. And then he called the Gero's house, having a hunch that all his friends were gathered there, awaiting his call. And, sure enough, they were, and each fighting for their chance to speak to him. When he finally got them off the phone, it was nearing dark, but he didn't know if he should go back inside. It was decided for him when the door creaked open and Bulma stepped outside with him, closing it behind her.
"Calling Satan City?" she asked, shying away from him and forcing a tiny laugh.
He nodded and heeded her. No touching, ok.
"The papers are going to have a field day with this," she sighed, taking a step. He opted to stand. What did she want!? "Probably going to wonder how I kept everything so secret for so long."
He nodded again, craving a rich glass of Scotch or Whiskey to numb his emotions.
"I can't begin to thank you for what you did for me."
"It wasn't just for you," he admitted freely. Did they have liquor in the house? But now was no time for getting drunk. He needed to focus on this, as heartbreaking as her small voice sounded.
"I never could have escaped him on my own…"
Vegeta was at her side suddenly, sitting on the step, and clutching her fragile little hands to his chest.
"Just tell me," he said, pain evident in his cold voice. "Anything."
She sighed, trying desperately to force a smile to stop her tears.
"I love you so much, Vegeta," she whimpered, pulling her hands back. "But…But I can't do this right now. I need help, and I know you understand that, because you were trying to get me help and I just turned you away. I didn't want to believe that I was that weak! But then he was in my house and he threatened to kill you if I didn't do what he said."
Vegeta's heart burst. No! No! She'd put herself through that pain for HIS sake! Kami! This was all wrong. It made complete sense, but it was so wrong…
"I just need time to put my life back together, be a whole person before I can commit myself to you."
"You're leaving me?" he asked selfishly, wanting to smack himself for such a comment. Ass!
She nodded slowly and stood up, the salty tears rolling down her cheeks and splashing on unknown spots on the cement steps.
"I won't put you through this," she said, "no matter how much you think you want to be there with me. I can't do it. I…I can't Vegeta…"
He decided, for her sake, to not continue the conversation. They were over right now, and she needed her time to recover and collect herself. And, as badly as he wanted to clutch onto her, kissing her face over and over and tell her exactly how he felt, he simply hugged her once and walked to the curb to wait for the cab she'd said she'd called for him.
"Why Kami?" he whispered angrily as the cab approached in the distance. "You bastard…"
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---Chapter 15!! Meep! Wow, this story moved a lot faster than I thought it would, and a hell of a lot faster than I usually write them :P Heehee! But hey, weee! She's safe! And don't worry about them breaking up, you can't just expect me to leave it here…More more more!! :D
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