DBZ? No, I don't own it. Sorry!
Third Person POV
Last time:
He drew back enough to whisper into my ear, "Think about that for a while."
He got up and left, leaving me to stare at the ceiling, my eyes wide, wondering what had possessed him to do THAT.
(Well,) my mind told myself, (you * did * say you needed something to think about. You got it.)
I frowned. "I should be more careful what I wish for."
Continuing on:
Vegeta was mentally screaming at himself as he trained. (How could I kiss that . . . THING?! It's not like me! I should've left her without so much as a word, let alone a KISS!)
His mind went back to the moment in her room after she woke up, sweating . . .
~*~*~
She looked so * pathetic * he felt a need to try and cheer her up. He didn't know what to say or do at this point, but still . . .
"What happened?" he found himself saying.
She looked at him, seemingly confused at why he asked such a question to her. She shook her head, not even aware she had the strength to do so. Without thinking he grabbed her shoulders, not roughly but gently, knowing how fragile humans were, and shook lightly. "Why won't you tell me? I can't help if - "
He stopped himself there, mainly from the look in her eyes. Once he got a hold of himself and realized what he said, he just got up and left, not caring if she thought he was crazy or not.
Once downstairs he heard a thump in her room and realized she did something to herself. (One of these days she's going to fucking kill herself.) He sighed and went right back up to find her -
Passed out on her way to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes and picked her up for the dozeneth or so time that morning. Every time he leaves her alone she ends up passed out or delusional. He smirked at remembering all the funny things that made him laugh today.
The thought entered his mind that she could be a stand-up - rather, lay- down - comedian if she stayed sick like she was. He shrugged that off.
For the umpteenth time that day, as he laid her down on her bed, he noticed how pale she was compared to the healthy glow she usually had. (She must be more ill than I first assumed.)
He pulled off a glove like he did earlier and felt her forehead. It was still as hot as it was three hours ago!
[A/N: 8:00 - Bulma wakes up, 8:15 - Bulma gets out of bath, 8:20 - Bulma spaces out, 10:35 - Bulma returns to Earth, 10:50 - Bulma falls asleep, 11:15 - Bulma wakes up, 11:16 - Bulma passes out, 11:40 - Bulma wakes up again.]
Vegeta swore viciously in several of the languages he knew. He left to find something - some kind of rag that wouldn't get warm too fast and could hold water easily . . .
He stopped mid-pace as he realized what he was describing. (No! No way! I am not going to let a damn sickly onna use my fucking things!) his pride screamed at him. He told it to shut up.
He thought a moment, trying to think of anything else. He didn't want to use his bandana as something to cool of the woman's head, but there seemed to be nothing else that would work. If he knew how to get to a hospital, he would take her there to be treated. However, something about the thought of several men touching her cut, chest and back [Feeling for heartbeat and breathing] didn't make him too happy. There was always the possibility of just letting her die, but he had to admit he did need her. If only for the GR, food, and a place to stay, he still needed her.
(After all,) his mind told him without asking, (she took care of you when YOU needed it. Why can't you take care of her now that she needs it?) He told that part of his mind to shut up or die.
"Stupid fucking onna, screwing with my head . . ." He grumbled other such things as he went to his room and got the cloth, much as he hated it. He grabbed a bowl from downstairs and filled it with water in Bulma's bathroom, then sat down to relieve her forehead of the offending heat.
Right after he placed it on her forehead the phone rang, and he jumped slightly, really not expecting it. He picked it up like he'd seen Bulma do - and as she taught him.
"Hello?"
There was a pause on the other end, as though the person were shocked. "Vegeta?"
"Yes. Is this the weakling?"
Growl. "Yes. Now what are you doing on Bulma's phone? I called her own number; the only phone to it is in her room. What in Hell are you doing there?!"
"I should be asking you why you CALLED in the FIRST PLACE!"
"Don't start getting pissed at me! Now put Bulma on!"
"She's asleep."
Another pause. "What did you do to her?!" he growled out.
Vegeta smirked. He was having fun now. "Oh, nothing much," he said, leaning back in the chair. "I just did some things to her * you * never did."
"Like what?" he ground out.
Vegeta's smirk transformed into a full-blown grin. He knew enough about Bulma and Yamcha's relationship to know what he did and didn't do to her. "Well, I first off licked her all over. Did you know how much she likes that?"
Curse curse, swear, CURSE, swear, swear, curse, curse, curse . . .
He kept on talking, ignoring the way Yamcha was swearing. "Next I fingered her, just to see how wet she could get . . . Still want me to continue?"
"Bastard, son of a Bitch, Goddamn, Mother fucking - "
"Now, now, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Go to Hell!"
Click. The line went dead and Vegeta laughed out loud, pleased with the way he could so easily get the Weakling to go nuts.
He looked at the woman he * supposedly * just screwed, and noticed, for the first time, that that didn't seem all that unpleasant. She would probably be able to give more pleasure than most other women of any species . . .
His eyes went wide as he realized what he was thinking, and about HER. (Now you gone and done it, dumbass! Now you'll NEVER be able to get that mental image out of your head!)
He growled and crossed his arms, the added weight pushing him back further and he lost his balance, falling back.
He mentally cursed in languages he wasn't sure he knew, but might just be making up. (Kuso, I'm such an idiot! I was dumb enough to take pity on her, fucked up enough to BATH her, and NOW I'm getting mental pictures of her in so many positions a human man would drool!)
He got up, swearing quietly and left, not liking where this was obviously going.
Vegeta was pacing outside her door, trying not to look up from the floor, and thought. (Ok, I can admit she's got a nice body and beautiful features. I can see that. But she's weak and wouldn't be able to keep up with me for one night! Wait - when did I suddenly want to fuck HER?! I just need a woman, but not her!) He growled and looked at her door. (I must be really fucked up to think about laying her while she's so sick. But then again,) his eyebrows drew together as he thought more carefully, (maybe I'm just now realizing how badly I wanted to before, now that I have an excuse to be so near to her . . .)
He shook his head violently and thumped himself upside the head, trying to quit thinking about her soft skin and curves . . .
He swore to himself and decided he'd better just take care of her for now and worry about sorting his feelings and thoughts later.
He went back in and checked the cloth. It was still both wet and cool, like he'd expected. He sat down in the chair again and sighed, knowing he shouldn't leave her side until she woke up and was able to take care of herself for a while.
He started mumbling about how stupid the woman could be when she woke up. She moaned and slowly shook her head.
"I see you finally woke up," he said. Bulma looked at him as though he was stupid.
He pretended like he didn't notice and removed the cloth to feel her head. It was still as warm as it had always been, if not getting hotter. (I can't tell her that; she'll panic!) "It's going down," he lied. "Slowly, but it's still going down. I suggest more rest."
She scoffed at him and tried to sit up - surprise, surprise. He knew she would. He pushed her back down. He then got the bandana wet again and put it back on her head, wondering what he could do. She wasn't getting any better, if not worse, and he didn't exactly give her notes on how to make a regeneration tank.
He frowned as he got up and left. (Not like that would've mattered. I wouldn't know how to change the settings for a human anyway. And the tank is for injuries, not illnesses.)
After he shut her door he listened at the door for any other sounds of her trying to get up and do something. Once a minute passed he was content with knowing she wasn't being a baka anymore and started to go train.
He barely took two steps before he heard the phone ring - but why did only the one in Bulma's room ring? (Right, she has her own line. It must be the Weakling again. This ought to be good.)
He smirked and put his ear against the door, hearing everything said between them.
He was almost laughing at the Weakling's responses, but ended up shocked when he heard Bulma say that at least he called her 'woman'.
Needless to say he was out of there in a flash. He didn't even bother with walking but just flew quickly as he could out the door. He stood on the grass for a moment thinking before he decided to go train.
He didn't even get into the GR before his sensitive ears picked up Bulma calling for him.
He was already dreading the reason behind why she called him, but since she was sick, his newly developed conscience wouldn't let him just leave her dangling. He sighed before going back upstairs to the room before his.
He walked in and right up to her. "What is it?"
"Remember when you told me about that whole 'Saiyan mating' stuff?"
He hesitated, not liking where this might be headed. "Yes."
"Would you explain it to me further?"
He nearly crowed with relief at that. Luckily he kept his composure and simply sat on her bed when his knees grew too weak. "Why?"
"I really need something to do, but since I can't get up, I'll just have to stick with thinking. But I've learned nothing new enough to think over, so . . ."
"You need me to give you something to think about."
She nodded. Vegeta suddenly smirked as he thought of the perfect thing to get her thinking and leave him alone to train in one.
When he smile disappeared is when he leaned forward, without so much as a word, and kissed her, nice and neat. The kiss both contradicted Vegeta's outlook on Bulma and his tough, rough exterior seen by everyone. He whispered in her ear, "Think about that for a while," and left without another word or glance her way.
He shut the door and heard her say as he descended the stairs, "I should be more careful what I wish for."
~*~*~
He pounded the living daylights out of himself, the GR, and the little robots the onna created for extra training.
He very nearly killed himself for his thinking and actions earlier. That is, until he heard . . .
"AAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
He rushed back upstairs to the Onna without even thinking first . . .
Third Person POV
Last time:
He drew back enough to whisper into my ear, "Think about that for a while."
He got up and left, leaving me to stare at the ceiling, my eyes wide, wondering what had possessed him to do THAT.
(Well,) my mind told myself, (you * did * say you needed something to think about. You got it.)
I frowned. "I should be more careful what I wish for."
Continuing on:
Vegeta was mentally screaming at himself as he trained. (How could I kiss that . . . THING?! It's not like me! I should've left her without so much as a word, let alone a KISS!)
His mind went back to the moment in her room after she woke up, sweating . . .
~*~*~
She looked so * pathetic * he felt a need to try and cheer her up. He didn't know what to say or do at this point, but still . . .
"What happened?" he found himself saying.
She looked at him, seemingly confused at why he asked such a question to her. She shook her head, not even aware she had the strength to do so. Without thinking he grabbed her shoulders, not roughly but gently, knowing how fragile humans were, and shook lightly. "Why won't you tell me? I can't help if - "
He stopped himself there, mainly from the look in her eyes. Once he got a hold of himself and realized what he said, he just got up and left, not caring if she thought he was crazy or not.
Once downstairs he heard a thump in her room and realized she did something to herself. (One of these days she's going to fucking kill herself.) He sighed and went right back up to find her -
Passed out on her way to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes and picked her up for the dozeneth or so time that morning. Every time he leaves her alone she ends up passed out or delusional. He smirked at remembering all the funny things that made him laugh today.
The thought entered his mind that she could be a stand-up - rather, lay- down - comedian if she stayed sick like she was. He shrugged that off.
For the umpteenth time that day, as he laid her down on her bed, he noticed how pale she was compared to the healthy glow she usually had. (She must be more ill than I first assumed.)
He pulled off a glove like he did earlier and felt her forehead. It was still as hot as it was three hours ago!
[A/N: 8:00 - Bulma wakes up, 8:15 - Bulma gets out of bath, 8:20 - Bulma spaces out, 10:35 - Bulma returns to Earth, 10:50 - Bulma falls asleep, 11:15 - Bulma wakes up, 11:16 - Bulma passes out, 11:40 - Bulma wakes up again.]
Vegeta swore viciously in several of the languages he knew. He left to find something - some kind of rag that wouldn't get warm too fast and could hold water easily . . .
He stopped mid-pace as he realized what he was describing. (No! No way! I am not going to let a damn sickly onna use my fucking things!) his pride screamed at him. He told it to shut up.
He thought a moment, trying to think of anything else. He didn't want to use his bandana as something to cool of the woman's head, but there seemed to be nothing else that would work. If he knew how to get to a hospital, he would take her there to be treated. However, something about the thought of several men touching her cut, chest and back [Feeling for heartbeat and breathing] didn't make him too happy. There was always the possibility of just letting her die, but he had to admit he did need her. If only for the GR, food, and a place to stay, he still needed her.
(After all,) his mind told him without asking, (she took care of you when YOU needed it. Why can't you take care of her now that she needs it?) He told that part of his mind to shut up or die.
"Stupid fucking onna, screwing with my head . . ." He grumbled other such things as he went to his room and got the cloth, much as he hated it. He grabbed a bowl from downstairs and filled it with water in Bulma's bathroom, then sat down to relieve her forehead of the offending heat.
Right after he placed it on her forehead the phone rang, and he jumped slightly, really not expecting it. He picked it up like he'd seen Bulma do - and as she taught him.
"Hello?"
There was a pause on the other end, as though the person were shocked. "Vegeta?"
"Yes. Is this the weakling?"
Growl. "Yes. Now what are you doing on Bulma's phone? I called her own number; the only phone to it is in her room. What in Hell are you doing there?!"
"I should be asking you why you CALLED in the FIRST PLACE!"
"Don't start getting pissed at me! Now put Bulma on!"
"She's asleep."
Another pause. "What did you do to her?!" he growled out.
Vegeta smirked. He was having fun now. "Oh, nothing much," he said, leaning back in the chair. "I just did some things to her * you * never did."
"Like what?" he ground out.
Vegeta's smirk transformed into a full-blown grin. He knew enough about Bulma and Yamcha's relationship to know what he did and didn't do to her. "Well, I first off licked her all over. Did you know how much she likes that?"
Curse curse, swear, CURSE, swear, swear, curse, curse, curse . . .
He kept on talking, ignoring the way Yamcha was swearing. "Next I fingered her, just to see how wet she could get . . . Still want me to continue?"
"Bastard, son of a Bitch, Goddamn, Mother fucking - "
"Now, now, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Go to Hell!"
Click. The line went dead and Vegeta laughed out loud, pleased with the way he could so easily get the Weakling to go nuts.
He looked at the woman he * supposedly * just screwed, and noticed, for the first time, that that didn't seem all that unpleasant. She would probably be able to give more pleasure than most other women of any species . . .
His eyes went wide as he realized what he was thinking, and about HER. (Now you gone and done it, dumbass! Now you'll NEVER be able to get that mental image out of your head!)
He growled and crossed his arms, the added weight pushing him back further and he lost his balance, falling back.
He mentally cursed in languages he wasn't sure he knew, but might just be making up. (Kuso, I'm such an idiot! I was dumb enough to take pity on her, fucked up enough to BATH her, and NOW I'm getting mental pictures of her in so many positions a human man would drool!)
He got up, swearing quietly and left, not liking where this was obviously going.
Vegeta was pacing outside her door, trying not to look up from the floor, and thought. (Ok, I can admit she's got a nice body and beautiful features. I can see that. But she's weak and wouldn't be able to keep up with me for one night! Wait - when did I suddenly want to fuck HER?! I just need a woman, but not her!) He growled and looked at her door. (I must be really fucked up to think about laying her while she's so sick. But then again,) his eyebrows drew together as he thought more carefully, (maybe I'm just now realizing how badly I wanted to before, now that I have an excuse to be so near to her . . .)
He shook his head violently and thumped himself upside the head, trying to quit thinking about her soft skin and curves . . .
He swore to himself and decided he'd better just take care of her for now and worry about sorting his feelings and thoughts later.
He went back in and checked the cloth. It was still both wet and cool, like he'd expected. He sat down in the chair again and sighed, knowing he shouldn't leave her side until she woke up and was able to take care of herself for a while.
He started mumbling about how stupid the woman could be when she woke up. She moaned and slowly shook her head.
"I see you finally woke up," he said. Bulma looked at him as though he was stupid.
He pretended like he didn't notice and removed the cloth to feel her head. It was still as warm as it had always been, if not getting hotter. (I can't tell her that; she'll panic!) "It's going down," he lied. "Slowly, but it's still going down. I suggest more rest."
She scoffed at him and tried to sit up - surprise, surprise. He knew she would. He pushed her back down. He then got the bandana wet again and put it back on her head, wondering what he could do. She wasn't getting any better, if not worse, and he didn't exactly give her notes on how to make a regeneration tank.
He frowned as he got up and left. (Not like that would've mattered. I wouldn't know how to change the settings for a human anyway. And the tank is for injuries, not illnesses.)
After he shut her door he listened at the door for any other sounds of her trying to get up and do something. Once a minute passed he was content with knowing she wasn't being a baka anymore and started to go train.
He barely took two steps before he heard the phone ring - but why did only the one in Bulma's room ring? (Right, she has her own line. It must be the Weakling again. This ought to be good.)
He smirked and put his ear against the door, hearing everything said between them.
He was almost laughing at the Weakling's responses, but ended up shocked when he heard Bulma say that at least he called her 'woman'.
Needless to say he was out of there in a flash. He didn't even bother with walking but just flew quickly as he could out the door. He stood on the grass for a moment thinking before he decided to go train.
He didn't even get into the GR before his sensitive ears picked up Bulma calling for him.
He was already dreading the reason behind why she called him, but since she was sick, his newly developed conscience wouldn't let him just leave her dangling. He sighed before going back upstairs to the room before his.
He walked in and right up to her. "What is it?"
"Remember when you told me about that whole 'Saiyan mating' stuff?"
He hesitated, not liking where this might be headed. "Yes."
"Would you explain it to me further?"
He nearly crowed with relief at that. Luckily he kept his composure and simply sat on her bed when his knees grew too weak. "Why?"
"I really need something to do, but since I can't get up, I'll just have to stick with thinking. But I've learned nothing new enough to think over, so . . ."
"You need me to give you something to think about."
She nodded. Vegeta suddenly smirked as he thought of the perfect thing to get her thinking and leave him alone to train in one.
When he smile disappeared is when he leaned forward, without so much as a word, and kissed her, nice and neat. The kiss both contradicted Vegeta's outlook on Bulma and his tough, rough exterior seen by everyone. He whispered in her ear, "Think about that for a while," and left without another word or glance her way.
He shut the door and heard her say as he descended the stairs, "I should be more careful what I wish for."
~*~*~
He pounded the living daylights out of himself, the GR, and the little robots the onna created for extra training.
He very nearly killed himself for his thinking and actions earlier. That is, until he heard . . .
"AAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
He rushed back upstairs to the Onna without even thinking first . . .