A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON © 2003 Darke Angelus
Chapter One ~ ROAD TRIP
"-Loooove is a flower with petals of gooold,
It sways with the wind for lovers to behooold.
Loooove is a star so twinkling and briiight,
Staring from the heavens with its godly siiight.
Loooove-"
"Enough of that shit," Vegeta said and shut the radio off.
Betraying a wounded sound, Bulma turned in the passenger seat to confront him. "Why did you do that? It's a beautiful song."
"The guy sounds like a castrated eunuch," Vegeta growled, slouching back in his seat with his arms crossed. He was presently glowering at the car in front of him and having a poor time ignoring the persistent beeps of the other cars that enveloped them on all sides.
Bulma fanned herself with a magazine and accepted the Saiyan's ill-tempered explanation. She was really too hot to argue. So far they had been a married couple for less than four hours and nothing was going as planned. They had made a quick clothes change after the ceremony and had hoped to beat rush-hour traffic. They were ambushed by the staff as they tried to leave and dragged into a party led by an ecstatic Charles McNeal. Somehow, the eccentric scientist had found out about the secret marriage and told everyone in Research and Development. Due to his innovative designs, Vegeta was held in the highest regard by the department and he and Bulma had little choice but to endure toast after toast that praised their union. The party finally began to wind down when Charles, drunk beyond belief, began to complain about why he hadn't been chosen as Vegeta's best man. Before a brawl ensued, the pair finally managed to escape and begin their first official adventure as husband and wife.
They had made perhaps three miles from home before they became stuck in gridlocked out-bound traffic. The top and both doors were off of Vegeta's jeep and the sun was beating down mercilessly. The air conditioner was running full blast but the cold air it provided quickly evaporated in the muggy heat.
"If we were in one of my cars, we'd at least be waiting in relative comfort," Bulma groused. Vegeta had insisted on taking his out-dated vehicle because he was THE MAN and wanted to do all the driving.
"Well, you can't very well pop a capsule here. There's barely enough room to breathe. Get used to it."
"Easy for you to say, you're immune to the heat."
Vegeta flashed her an irritated glare. He was wearing a black tank top and loose jeans that should have been attracting the sun's rays but he didn't appear to notice. In truth, he was actually damned uncomfortable but it had nothing to do with the heat and she knew it. He glanced at the dashboard clock for the fifth time in ten minutes and slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration.
"Take it easy. Traffic will start moving soon enough," Bulma told him calmly.
"You said that thirty minutes ago!" he snapped. "Why the hell couldn't we have spent the night at Capsule Corp. and just leave in the morning? This doesn't make any damned sense!"
"I am NOT going to consummate our marriage in my parent's house!" she said in a hard voice. "I made reservations at the hotel in the next city for a reason."
"A fat lot of good that's doing us right now," he grumbled, glancing at her sidelong. Bulma was wearing a silk-knit halter dress that was quickly becoming see-through the more she perspired. As she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the short hem of the dress pulled up to her thigh before she readjusted it.
The mere glance of her flesh was just too much. In one desperate move Vegeta leapt on top of her, straddled the passenger seat, and began groping her body as he kissed her. In the car beside them, a mother took one look at the scene and tried to cover the eyes of her curious six-year old. Behind them, a bunch of college students crammed into a Mini were beeping their encouragement. Obviously, it wasn't long before they became the center of attention.
"Are you crazy? Knock it off!" Bulma yelled, swatting at him with the magazine.
"I can't wait anymore," he panted raggedly. Pulling open the top of her dress, he managed one lick at her nipple before she kicked him off.
Blushing furiously, Bulma pulled her top closed and tried to disappear in her seat. "You can wait a few more hours."
"I've been waiting long enough!" he bellowed.
That was the truth. To lend more 'punch' to their wedding night, Bulma had cut him off three weeks before the ceremony. She said that it was a popular choice among couples that had been living together for an extended period. Vegeta just thought it was cruel and unusual punishment for a crime he hadn't committed. The moment he had first laid eyes on her in that flowing white wedding dress he had started getting aroused. That wasn't something easily concealed in the spandex he had worn and it had taken all of his mental willpower not to look like a pervert in front of Bulma's family and the minister. Once in his street clothes, it wasn't so obvious but he had been sporting a half-hard erection ever since they had finally escaped Capsule Corp. Right now, however, there wasn't anything half-assed about it. He was at full attention and nearly stark-raving crazy with lust. Trapped in the close confines of the jeep he could actually smell her womanhood and he started to visibly shake.
"Vegeta-" she reached out towards him.
"Don't touch me! Not unless you're prepared to start something you intend to finish," he growled, recoiling away from her. He was close to snapping and knew from past experience no amount of spectators would distract him from his purpose once he got started. During his days of hanging with Radditz and Nappa, there had been times when having sex had been a public sport. As Bulma shifted position, he caught wind of her heady woman-scent and had to jump out of the jeep.
"Where are you going?!" she asked in alarm.
"To find out what's holding up the bloody traffic."
"...Looking like that?" She was pointing to the front of his jeans and the obvious bulge outlined against his left thigh.
Too aggravated to form words, he released a sound like a hiss and fazed out of sight. There were some startled exclamations by the people who had been watching them and Bulma was grateful when they went back to talking among themselves. Truth to tell, she was just as sexually frustrated as Vegeta felt and was eager to feel him inside of her. But certainly not here!
Every chance that she got, she stared at the ring on her left hand and had to touch it to assure herself that it was real. The huge diamond that Vegeta had given her was currently in the hands of a master jeweler who was cleaning and faceting it. At her request, the jeweler had cut off a 2-carat segment, given it an exclusive Asscher cut, and set it in a platinum band that was now her wedding ring. It was the most special, most beautiful thing she had ever owned in her life.
Just a few more hours, she thought longingly as she began fanning herself again with the battered magazine. In a few short hours we'll finally get to make love as husband and wife. How romantic is that?
She won't let me screw her, Vegeta was thinking at the precise moment as he was crouched in a nearby ditch. How fucked-up is that?
So far, his impression of marriage was poor and it didn't look to be improving anytime soon. If someone had taken the time to explain precisely what he was getting himself into, he never would have dug for the rock that had put this whole mess into motion: Three weeks of perplexing celibacy, her parents acting even weirder than normal, getting dressed up into costumes for a boring sermon that had lasted all of ten minutes. These humans were crazy!
What confused him the most was the platinum band that encircled the third finger of his left hand. Bulma wore a gaudier version that had a piece of the diamond he had given her. She explained that wearing the items symbolized their union. To Vegeta, it suggested that they were mutual property. He wasn't about to sacrifice his hard-won independence just so that he wear the equivalence of a dog collar. They continued to argue over the issue right up until the day before the ceremony. Bulma relented that he wear his wedding band only until they had collected all of the Dragonballs and made the wish. No longer. He probably would have said no even to that compromise but he was bored to death with the ridiculous topic. He agreed simply to shut her up.
Or was it something else? The more he looked at the odd object on his hand, the less it bothered him. Bulma had the jeweler engrave the ring with the royal crest of Vegetasei and the sight of that design offered perplexing comfort. It should have been a symbol of loss but it seemed to have become one that promised a fresh start. For him. For what the Vegeta line had become. For his son. And his wife...
"Bulma," he murmured. The woman had a hold on him, that much was for certain but he couldn't deny the truth that his life had improved as a result. He was now a wealthy man in his own right, associated with this planet's most influential businesswoman. The wealth and power that the Briefs wielded made them equal to any royalty in the universe. Being extremely conscious of class and social status, Vegeta concluded that the sole reason Bulma was allowed a place in his dark heart was simply because: She was WORTHY.
She was also one hell of an exciting piece of ass, which was why he was currently hiding in this filthy ditch. The traffic still hadn't moved and neither had his throbbing manhood. Out of desperation, he unzipped his fly and it took scarcely two pumps before he ejaculated into the dirt. It was a waste but at least he could walk among civilians again and not look like a circus freak. It took the edge off of his anxiety too, if only until he got into the jeep again. Zipping himself back up, he climbed up to the highway and decided to isolate the cause of the traffic jam.
A half a kilometer away, a 22-wheeler had jack-knifed to avoid a fender bender and overturned, completely blocking traffic on both sides. Both news and police helicopters were hovering over the scene, while a crew of police and fire fighters mingled uselessly around, trying to figure out what to do.
"Hey," Vegeta said, materializing behind one chubby cop. "What's the hold up?"
The officer gave him a startled double take. Curious onlookers were told to stand several meters away behind the accident tape and orange pylons. How the hell had this guy slipped through without anybody noticing? "You're not allowed to be here-"
"Don't you tell me what I'm allowed to do. Get that piece of shit off the road."
Rolling his eyes, the cop shook his head in dismay. There always had to be at least one asshole in every crowd and this day seemed to be no exception. "We called for a crane to be flown in. It'll take about two hours to get here."
"I can't wait that long! Move it now!"
"How?" The cop decided to humor him. "What do you expect me to do? Pick it up myself?"
"Not you, lardass," Vegeta growled and stomped over to where the rig and its overloaded box were lying on its side. Still wearing that tolerant expression on his wide face, the chubby cop waved away his buddies who were moving in to intercept him. "Ah, let him take a look. Maybe it'll shut him up," he told his partner in a smug tone.
It took perhaps Vegeta all of a few seconds to see what needed to be done. He called over to the large officer, "Where do you want me to move it?"
"Is this guy for real?" his partner chuckled.
"What is he, five feet tall?" commented another. "Hell, my ten year old kid is bigger than him."
"Oh, this is rich," the fat cop said. He gestured to the left of the highway and instructed, "Throw it as far away as you can! Right over into that field! Ah heck, why not into the next state while you're at it?"
Everyone was starting to laugh and Vegeta's earlier agitation returned with a vengeance. "You've got it," he snarled through clenched teeth. He sank his fingers into the heavy steel to get a firm grip and flung the entire tractor-trailer into the sky as hard as he could. The massive rig went flying end-over-end and quickly disappeared out of sight. Not long after that, a small mushroom cloud appeared on the horizon where the unfortunate vehicle finally impacted with the ground.
Nobody was laughing anymore. Vegeta sauntered over to the where the fat cop was still pointing at the side of the road. Slapping him on one round cheek to get his attention, the Saiyan said, "I just did your job now go do yours. Get this traffic moving!"
The gathered crowd of witnesses were applauding and cheering but when the helicopters started to swing around, Vegeta decided that it was time to make himself scarce. He fazed out of sight with that uncanny speed of his, leaving the stunned cops and firefighters to stare at the skid marks on the asphalt that was the only sign anything had ever been there.
"So... uh, how're we gonna explain this one, Ralph?" the chubby cop's partner finally spoke up.
Ralph could only offer a mute one-armed shrug.
"What did you do?" Bulma asked when Vegeta appeared beside the jeep and climbed back into the driver's seat. Everyone else had left their own vehicles and were standing on the side of the road watching the fading tendrils of smoke from the distant explosion.
"If it gets us moving, who cares?" he countered.
"I care. You promised that you'd keep a low profile."
"No, what I promised was that I wouldn't blow up anymore cities- At least not until we wish back the one I already erased. That's the whole point of this ridiculous trip."
Bulma backed down and shelved the criticism for the time being. The Saiyan was a little calmer than when he had left and she didn't want to provoke him. "Thank you," she said instead.
He looked at her warily, expecting her usual sarcasm but she only added, "For speeding up the wait. The sooner we check-in at the hotel the better."
It was the right thing to say. Vegeta's eyes narrowed into a mischievous squint and he smirked at her. It was the first time he had smiled since that morning. "Got that right," he said in a husky purr, giving her body a thorough look from ankle to neck and back down again. Running his tongue slowly along his teeth, he finally assured her, "By the time I'm through with you, you won't even be able to remember your own name."
"... oh," she breathed, feeling the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck prickle and rise. When he looked at her like that, it always excited her. She had always been attracted to danger and here was the living embodiment of it, sitting barely two feet away.
Leaning towards him eagerly, her pursed lips invited his mouth, and Vegeta accepted the offer without hesitation. Their kiss was a long and industrious fusing of lips and tongues, their teeth scraping lightly as they sought an even closer contact in the confined space. Bulma cupped his groin and kneaded her fingers into the denim and he responded by sliding one free hand slowly up her inner thigh. She moaned her encouragement to that touch, spreading her legs. Her panties were already damp and her clitoris was vibrating with exquisite tremors. One stroke of his finger and she would go off like a rocket. Almost there... so close... oh! That's it! Right there! Touch me right-
An air horn blasted off beside them and the pair jumped in shock. They looked around, dazed, and noticed for the first time that the traffic was finally moving.
"Of all the piss-poor timing," Bulma grumbled under her breath while Vegeta fumbled with the keys and got the jeep started. Struggling with his composure, the Saiyan almost ripped out the gearshift as he rammed it into first and got them moving. All that little make-out session accomplished was make them both hot and bothered and his erection was back, harder than ever. He was tempted to just encapsulate the jeep and fly them quickly to their next destination but Bulma insisted that they search for the damned balls 'the old fashioned way'. Whatever the hell that meant. All that he knew for certain was that if he upset her now, he might as well go back to whacking off in the ditch. "How long?"
She knew what he meant. "We should be at the hotel in four hours."
Gunning the engine he promised her, "We'll be there in three."
They traveled along the coastline, heading east on a busy stretch of road that was clogged with tourists, cyclists, and other slow-moving sightseers. Vegeta wove the jeep in and out of the traffic like he was in a race against time (and in some ways he was- Bulma's smell of arousal was starting to affect him again). He passed on double-lines, around blind curves, and more than once darted around vehicles using the right-hand shoulder, spraying gravel as the jeep's large tires spun for purchase. Buckled into her seat, Bulma was screaming with each dangerous maneuver but it wasn't out of fear. She had always been a speed junky and thrived on taking risks. Vegeta wasn't doing anything that she hadn't done in her own car. If anything, he was actually more cautious. "Oh- This is GREAT! WHEEE!"
"Woman, you are insane," Vegeta told her but he was having as much fun as she was. Forcing her eyes away from the swiftly passing sights, Bulma took the opportunity to give him a thorough, loving appraisal. It had taken some time for his system to shake the after-affects of Frieza's poison but he appeared to have finally made a full recovery. He had gained back all of his weight and his muscle tone was once more the epitome of physical perfection. The only thing that was any reminder of that terrible time was that his hair still wasn't its unruly length that he favored. Privately, Bulma liked the way it looked and the way that it seemed to ease the harshness of his features. At least he no longer tried to hide it under a baseball cap anymore. "I love you, Vegeta."
"Uh huh," he muttered, but passed her an endearing little smirk that made her giggle in delight. That moment lasted until a state trooper drove by and immediately did a U-turn to begin pursuit.
"Uh oh," the pair mouthed together, sharing one comical look. Then Vegeta put his foot on the gas pedal all the way to the floor and seriously began darting in an out of the heavy traffic as the cruiser steadily closed in. This time when Bulma screamed, it wasn't out of excitement but pure terror.
"What do you think you're doing? Pull over!" Bulma shouted, gripping the sides of her seat with panicky fingers. "You can't outrun that police car. What's a little ticket for speeding?"
"Hnh. Look in the glove compartment."
She pressed the latch and an explosion of papers burst out of the small space, snatched by the wind. She snagged a handful and saw that the majority of them were old speeding tickets from the time he had been living in Pitch. There were also more recent tickets from his driving in the Western Capital. "Parking tickets. That's not surprising- I have a few of them myself but... 'Verbally harassing a police officer'," Bulma was reading a few of the others she found, "'Failure to yield', 'Running a stop light', 'Hitting a pedestrian'? Vegeta, you hit someone with the jeep?"
"I just nudged his ass with the bumper. The old geezer wasn't moving fast enough."
"Oh crap." She slammed the compartment closed and tried to come up with a solution. She was drawing a rare blank. "Vegeta, this is getting serious! Why didn't you tell me before we drove off?"
"I didn't think it was important. The tickets aren't in my name," he told her with surprising calm in his voice. She took another look at one of the scraps that had fluttered to the floor and sure enough, it had the name of the dead soldier whose identity Vegeta had adopted for a short time.
"Not important? They're going to haul your ass into jail when they catch you!"
Vegeta released an amused chuckle. "That'll never happen. Hold on."
"Why? What are you-" She released a squeal as the Saiyan cut across the front of a car he had been passing and headed straight for the guardrail. Beyond that flimsy barricade was a sheer cliff that dropped about eighty feet into pounding ocean surf and Vegeta was heading straight for it. "You're crazy!"
"You wouldn't have me any other way," he said with a broad grin and smashed through the wood at top speed. They disappeared over the cliff edge in a spray of shattered wood, gravel, and one resounding shriek that was actually louder than the police cruiser siren. When the state trooper slammed on the brakes and ran over to the edge, there was no sign of the suicidal couple. He ran back to his car to call for Search and Rescue.
Out of sight around the bluff, Vegeta had easily deposited the jeep back onto the road and was currently inspecting it for damage. Seated in the passenger seat, Bulma was trying to drink from a water bottle and it took both of her hands to steady it enough to get the lip of the container to her mouth. "Th-that... was... nuts."
"Bah. We got away, that's all that matters," he said, frowning at what he discovered. The bumper was dented, which wasn't a big deal but a large chunk of guardrail had gone through the front grill and perforated the radiator. "Shit," he said in disgust, watching the radiator fluid pour to the ground in a heavy cloud of steam.
"Well, that puts this vehicle out of commission," Bulma said as she came up beside him.
"Can't you fix it?"
"What-? I don't have any parts of this out-dated piece of junk-"
"Watch it!" he warned her. "I happen to like this 'out-dated piece of junk'. It has character, not like those brightly colored, hover-car abominations everyone drives. I've spent a lot of time in this jeep. It's mine."
She gave him a startled glance at the rare admission. Aside from the gravity simulator, there weren't many other things that Vegeta really thought of as a valued possession. There was very little that she knew about what he had gone through when he had moved to Pitch. Too sick to fly, he'd had to learn how to operate this vehicle in order to drive across the country and come to Trunks aid. She imagined that as he drove that lonely distance, he had spent many long hours thinking in this very jeep. "We'll encapsulate it for now," she said in a softer voice. "I'll fix it when we get back home."
"Can you?"
"I think so, yes."
He nodded once and stepped around to the back bumper and pressed the switch beneath the left brake light. In a cloud of smoke, the battered jeep disappeared, instantly condensed into a small capsule that he picked up and put in his back pocket. "I'll fly us the rest of the way."
Bulma had been rummaging through her purse for her own car capsule. "I told you before; there will be no cheating on this trip," she said in a hard voice as she pulled it out. "We're using Earth vehicles, no ki."
"!!AAGHHH!!" Vegeta stormed a short distance away, grappled unsuccessfully with his rage, and angrily came stomping back. "What is it with this stupid obsession of yours? If we did things my way, we could gather the stupid Dragonballs in a couple of days. Why do you want to drag out this torture?"
"Torture?" she asked in a wounded voice. "You're calling our honeymoon 'torture'? HOW DARE YOU! I took two weeks off from work- time that I really can't spare from the company- just so that we could spend this time together. You should be flattered."
He snorted. "Why?"
Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Because I want this time with you with no distractions: No damned gravity simulator training, no battle on the horizon, no life-threatening illness. For the very first time, we're together as husband and wife. I don't think you've absorbed the significance of that commitment, Vegeta. Things are no longer the way they were. We're a part of each other's lives from this day on." She paused for a moment to compose her thoughts and then yelled at him: "So we ARE going to take the ENTIRE two weeks to hunt for the Dragonballs whether you LIKE it or NOT!"
His face flushed alarmingly and she knew she had gone to far when that telltale vein popped out on his temple. For one long moment, the pair glared at one another and of the two, it was Bulma who finally dropped her eyes first. "I-I knew it was too much to ask-"
"Oh, stop your whining and pop the damn capsule already. We're wasting time," he snarled.
She gave one startled blink and broke out into a hopeful smile. "You-you mean...?"
"We'll do things your way," he said and dropped his voice to a low growl as he added, "For now."
"Oh, thank you, Vegeta!" she cried happily, depressing the switch and throwing the capsule over her shoulder as she continued to gush; "You won't regret it. We're going to have a wonderful adventure together. It'll be just like the old days when I was a teenager and set out on my own to search for the Dragonballs the very first time. That was when I first met G- "
"What." he interrupted her. "The fuck. Is that?" He was pointing to the vehicle that had materialized behind her.
Bulma whirled and was shocked not to see her souped-up sports car. In its place was a small, pink moped with flowers painted on the front fender and a little wire basket perched between the handlebars. "That's Daisy. Mom uses her for local errands."
"What the hell are you doing with that thing?"
She looked into her purse in confusion. "I must have grabbed the wrong capsule before we left. Everything was so hectic I didn't think to stop to check. My spare capsule packet is packed away with the rest of my luggage."
"Well, you better unpack it. I'm not getting on that," he said harshly. He had never wished for a brightly colored, hover-car abomination so much in his entire life.
She looked him in frustration. "I packed enough clothes, gear, and accessories for two weeks. Do you have any idea how long that will take to sort through?"
"I'm prepared to wait."
"Well, I'm not," she sniffed and hiked up her dress and straddled the seat of the moped. She might have relented and searched though her belongings for the packet until the Saiyan copped the attitude. Now it was a battle of wills. She picked up the helmet lying in the basket and put it on, then turned the key to the ignition. Daisy's tiny engine sounded like a cross between a sewing machine and a weed eater. "Get on, Vegeta. We'll be in Carterville in less than an hour."
Vegeta wasn't moving. He shook his head once. "Not a chance."
"Fine. I'll meet you there!" she yelled back and sped off in a cloud of blue smoke accompanied by one loud backfire of protest. After about twenty meters down the road, she slowed and looked back. She wasn't surprised to see that the Saiyan was gone.
"Stubborn ass," she grumbled, pulling onto the road again and coaxing the moped up to it's top speed (which was about 60 kilometers an hour). Daisy shuddered, backfired, and wearily accelerated but the little engine sounded like it was sobbing. Ignoring this, Bulma kept her eyes on the road, which was starting to blur through a veil of bitter tears. This was supposed to be her special day, dammit! Nothing was going right! She wiped her eyes with a curse and squeezed the handlebars in a deathgrip. How DARE Vegeta abandon her like this? When she saw him again-
Dropping out of the sky, Vegeta landed squarely in place behind her causing Daisy to pop a wheelie. It took all of Bulma's driving ability to get the front tire back down before they were thrown onto the road. "Dammit, Vegeta! You could give a little warning the next time you do that."
"Whatever."
"I thought that you were too macho to be seen on this thing," she snapped over her left shoulder. "What changed your mind?"
There was a sly look on his face that immediately placed her on guard. "Male prerogative. I considered the benefits."
"Oh yeah? And what are those?"
He gave no answer but his arms encircled her and his hands immediately cupped her breasts- and showed no sign of releasing them anytime soon.
"Vegeta- let go. Those aren't airbags!" she cried indignantly.
His lips fastened on the soft skin of her neck before he nibbled playfully on her earlobe. "I would suggest," he rasped into her ear as he began rubbing himself against her, "that you get this piece of junk up to its top speed."
She could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back and her nipples hardened beneath his squeezing hands. "O-okay," she agreed and twisted the accelerator. Daisy backfired again and made a sound like a wheezing cough, but she wearily obeyed. Scarcely able to focus on the road as Vegeta fondled her body, Bulma noticed for the first time that the fuel gauge was close to empty. "Oh mom..." she sighed.
"What's wrong now?"
"We're almost out of gas. I'll have to pull in at the next service station."
"Yes, of course you will..." she heard him grumble behind her and she was almost disappointed when he dropped his hands. On such a heavily traveled road, it wasn't long before a gas station came into sight and Bulma steered towards one of the pumps. Vegeta jumped off before they had reached a full stop and immediately headed for the Men's restroom. She didn't bother calling out to him and embarrass him further, knowing where he was going and why. She was giggling when she picked up the nozzle and filled up the tank.
He rejoined her just as she was paying the attendant. "That was quick."
Scowling, he snarled, "You don't say that to a man. Ever."
"Oh, I was just kidding," she said, kissing him. He didn't respond to the gesture and she knew from experience that her apology was definitely NOT accepted. She was going to suggest that they go inside the adjoining restaurant and grab an early supper when a man pulled up beside of them, gunning the engine. Leaning out of the window of his large truck, he sneered, "Hey, that's one hell of a chopper that you've got there, fella! Wanna drag race?"
"Get lost," Bulma shouted back.
"Why don't you ditch the runt, sweetheart? Let a real man take you for a ride!" He sped off in a squeal of tires, doing a donut in front of them and dangerously coming close to hitting Daisy. As he sped away Vegeta released a snarl and before Bulma could stop him, the Saiyan flicked a destructo disk the size of a dime from his right hand. It flew up into the air intake pipe of the truck and promptly exploded in the gas tank. Both doors flew off of the vehicle, and the engine was immediately reduced to smoldering slag. It skidded along the pavement in a shower of sparks before slowing to a halt several meters away.
Still gripping the steering wheel, the driver found himself sitting in a cloud of smoke. "What the hell-?" he asked in disbelief.
"Two times in less than a day. Sonsabitches." Vegeta was positively frothing in his rage and started across the parking lot to finish what he had started.
Bulma ran in front of him. "It's okay. No harm was done. Leave him alone, Vegeta."
"I'm sick and tired of the fucking short jokes!" he yelled at her. "I was never meant to be this size. It's not my fault!"
She was completely taken aback by the outburst. "Wha-what are you talking about? I've never said anything-"
"Not you." He was glaring daggers at the driver who was wandering around his demolished truck like a man stuck in a bad dream. People were starting to wander over and ask the flustered man what had happened. "Them. No better than fodder for a Galactic Gun. All of them. It would be so easy..." His right hand clenched into a tight fist and began glowing an ominous blue.
Gooseflesh broke out on both of her arms. She hated it when he spouted that doomsday talk and had never realized that he was so sensitive about his height. It wasn't something that he had ever betrayed before. She catalogued the incident to be thoroughly analyzed later, when there wasn't the threat of a body count looming on the horizon. "They're not worth it. This is our wedding day. Don't spoil it for me, Vegeta. Please? Let's just get going."
Vegeta showed no sign of budging. He continued to glare at the driver with concentrated hatred. It seemed to be a long time before he finally dropped his black gaze to hers. Bulma's blue eyes were wide with entreaty and it took some visible effort for him to finally turn his back on the growing crowd. "You just saved their lives," he coldly informed her and marched back to Daisy.
Lingering back, Bulma cast a quick glance at the innocent people and forced down a tremor of momentary fear. Had she thought that she actually had control over Vegeta? It was a flimsy tether at best and almost useless when he was provoked, as she was quickly discovering. She was almost tempted to just relent and let him search for the Dragonballs his way.
"No," she said to herself. When she looked back, she saw that Vegeta was back sitting on Daisy without argument. That simple action spoke volumes to her. I can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to. Nobody could, she realized. He's here because he wants to be. He's enduring these constant setbacks because he wants to stay near me. Am I really going to give up on that rare opportunity? "No," she said again. "I'm not giving up. I love him. He's my... husband," that last word suffused her with fresh hope and strengthened her resolve.
As she returned to the moped to continue their journey into Carterville, there was a distinct trill from her purse.
"I thought you shut off your phone," Vegeta said peevishly. Bulma's mother had started calling them practically the minute they had left Capsule Corp. and Bulma had turned it off to give them some peace.
"That's not my cellphone, it's the Dragonball radar," she said as she pulled it out and read the dial. Her eyes widened in alarm. "The Dragonball I'd located- It... it's moving."
"What?"
"The reason I chose Carterville first was because that was where the closest Dragonball lied. I figured that we could go to our hotel room and collect it at our leisure when we were... y'know, through," she blushed. "Now, though, it's moving out of the city limits."
"So what?" Vegeta said in a bored tone of voice. "As a single unit it's no good to anyone and they're almost impossible to destroy. Let's just get to the hotel. We'll track it down tomorrow," his previous pout dissolved into a lopsided-smirk, "Or the day after that."
"Aren't you even curious about who has it or why?"
"No," came the predictable answer. "I'm more curious about what you've got on under that dress. Or more importantly, what you haven't."
"Vegeta!" She crossed her arms deliberately over her breasts as his eyes roved eagerly over them. "I won't be able to relax knowing someone else might have their grubby hands on that Dragonball. We have to track it down right now."
Vegeta's face darkened with the appearance of this new roadblock. His mind immediately translated 'won't be able to relax' correctly into 'won't spread my legs'. His nerves were worn raw from all of these cockteasing delays and the hand-to-gland sessions were only making things worse. He was starting to wonder if she really did want him to screw her or if this was all just a convenient act to delay their coupling.
"How about it, Vegeta?" she prompted when his usual silence stretched on. "Are we still a team?"
This bullshit has to be some sort of twisted test, he brooded. He was no stranger to them; Frieza and his goons had always been trying to find some new way to get him to screw up. Some had evaluated his endurance, while others had measured his skills. The ones requiring patience had been the absolute worst and that looked to be what he was currently stuck in. It had to be another part of the ceremony to gauge if he was truly worthy of her.
"...Vegeta?" a note of worry crept into her voice.
His shoulders slumped. He knew that he was a living magnet for bad luck, but this day just had to be the worst in recent memory. "Yes, woman. We're a... team."
Whooping in happiness, she hopped onto Daisy like she was jumping on the back of a bronco. "I love you, Vegeta!"
"Yeah, yeah," he said unconvincingly.
"Always the tough guy," she sighed, fastening on her helmet. As she turned the ignition, she cried out: "Giddy-up Daisy!"
Daisy responded with a backfire loud enough to turn heads. The pair sped away in a cloud of blue smoke and pulled back onto the road. As Bulma coaxed the little moped up to its full speed, she was wondering if Vegeta was seriously angry with her. Just as she was about to pull over and ask him, his hands came around her and grabbed her breasts again. This time she didn't try to pull them off.
As they closed in on Carterville, Vegeta took the opportunity to absorb the sights, which wasn't something he usually did. Conquering planets had been a means to an end and evaluating the aesthetics of the surroundings had been considered frivolous. As near as he could tell, Earth seemed to be a complex world of varying climates and landmarks that seemed to change with alarming regularity. He had never been on any world long enough to experience the steady progression of seasons and his recollections of Vegetasei were, sadly, quite poor. Even after his extended time on this world, he was beginning to realize that he had hardly scratched the surface in witnessing all that the planet had to offer.
Two weeks, he thought, nuzzling the back of Bulma's neck and relishing her scent. Maybe it won't be so bad-
Daisy hit a pothole and wobbled before Bulma got the steering under control.
... then again...
"We're almost near it," Bulma called to him. She had the Dragonball radar perched in the basket and was dividing her concentration between it and the road. "Be on your guard and keep your eyes peeled."
"For what?"
"It could be anything!" she said with rising excitement. "It could be a giant, or a fierce dragon trying to take the Dragonball back to its nest. It could be a troop of Red Ribbon soldiers or some more androids, or-"
"-Or it could be a pair of rednecks in a pick-up truck," she heard Vegeta comment. Sure enough, a battered old truck passed them and in the back, perched on top of a pile of old scavenged parts and junk, was the four-star Dragonball.
"Oh," Bulma said in disappointment.
"Glad I came along," Vegeta snickered from behind her. "You're going to need me to defend you against those evil villains."
Purposely ignoring him, Bulma waved frantically as she tried to attract the driver's attention but it was no use. The truck was gradually pulling ahead. "They don't see me!"
"You are pathetic," Vegeta sighed and flicked another disk from his fingers. Fortunately this one was weak and only blew out the vehicle's back left tire. Lurching out of control for a few seconds, the driver quickly slowed down and managed to get it safely over to the side of the road. The pair got out and inspected the flat as Bulma pulled up behind them. "Are you guys alright?" she called out.
The driver, an old pot-bellied farmer in rubber boots, was scratching his head. "I dunno what we hit. The blasted tires are almost brand new. But yeah, we're okay."
Bulma cast a sullen glare at Vegeta who continued his self-righteous smirking. "I'll handle this."
"Call me if you need back-up," he said and started chuckling to himself when she slammed the helmet into the basket in frustration.
She fluffed up her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and, after a quick check in the moped's mirror to ensure that her make-up wasn't smeared, walked slowly over to the befuddled pair. Vegeta knew what the outcome was going to be even before the farmer gave Bulma the Dragonball with no questions asked. The dress she was wearing left little to the imagination and when she put her mind to it, no man could resist her.
Including me, Vegeta reluctantly admitted. When she came strutting back holding her prize, he found it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings for her. They went beyond mere lust and entered into realms that he didn't know he even possessed. Trust. Admiration. Even affection. Perhaps struggling amidst the shadows of his heart was even that elusive L-word she liked to use so often.
Before he could betray too much of his thoughts, he clapped slowly three times. "Bravo," he said flatly.
"See? There's still wonderful people on this world. I offered them money and they wouldn't take a dime."
Vegeta suspected that her near see-through dress and excited jiggling had been more than enough payment for the Dragonball. Still, he couldn't deny the end result; it was in her possession and she was happy. It was more than he could have hoped for with the way things were going lately. "We're going to the hotel." It was not a question.
"Yes, we're going straight to the hotel," she said when she secured the Dragonball in the basket. She hopped on the moped to face him and grabbed a handful of his tank top, pulling him towards her. "I can hardly wait to be alone with you," her words gusted warmly against his face. "I am going to kiss you, taste you, and ride you. We're going to make love all night long." Her lips closed over his and she kissed him, doing a slow and thorough job of it. When they finally parted, she nibbled playfully on his bottom lip. "What do you think of that, lover?"
"I think maybe we should have gone for the stupid Dragonball first," he said honestly. This sudden aggressiveness on her part was entirely unexpected and a definite turn-on. He had never seen her like this before; exhilarated, wanton, carefree. Away from Capsule Corporation, she became a completely different person who thrived on adventure and reveled in action. He was relieved to have endured the test long enough to see this side of her. It made all of the frustrations worth it.
Well... almost.
Turning in her seat, Bulma wasted no time starting Daisy and speeding them towards their ultimate goal; The Majestic Regency Hotel in Carterville. It was a turn-of-century landmark that was one of the city's oldest, most influential resorts and lied on a jutting bluff that presented an unrivaled view of the ocean. Bulma had reserved the Honeymoon suite weeks in advance and had done it under a false name to ensure that reporters not catch wind of her appearance and ruin their peace. She wanted to travel in relative anonymity- partially because she loathed the media, and also to spare Vegeta the additional stress of dealing with obnoxious newshounds. In the few times that they had been seen in the Capital together, there had always been some shutterbug snapping their picture. As ever, there was a question mark beside Vegeta's face when the picture ran the next day in the society pages. Gossip was almost as important a commodity as wealth in Bulma's elite circle and the Saiyan was a hot topic. She wanted to keep him all to herself for as long as she could.
Vegeta didn't pay much attention to the checking-in process as Bulma made small talk with the manager who presented her with the pass-card to their room. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by the way her body moved and had tuned out all other distractions with his usual single-minded tenacity. There were going to be no more distractions that were going to sway him from his intended goal. He was prepared to plunder her ripe body right here in the lobby if he had too, in full view of the staff and guests. He had waited far too long.
As if sharing his impatience, Bulma grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the waiting elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she melted against him with a grateful sigh while his hands slid down her sides and pulled up the dress to her waist. She wriggled her tongue between his teeth as her hand sought the prominent outline of his erection, squeezing and rolling the throbbing shaft through the material of his jeans. Neither had the clarity of mind to hit the stop button and when the doors opened on their floor, they were blissfully ignorant with their mutual fondling until someone released a subdued cough.
An elderly couple was standing in the corridor, patiently waiting to enter and the ardent newlyweds parted reluctantly. "Sorry," Bulma offered as she pulled down her dress. She carefully positioned herself between them and Vegeta as they left the elevator. "We just got married today."
"Congratulations!" the woman beamed while her husband said smoothly, "No apologies are necessary, dear. We couldn't wait for a bed on our wedding night either."
"Harold!" the old woman squawked in horror.
"Well... it's true, isn't it? Remember that park bench-" the elevator doors mercifully closed on the rest of the exchange. Casting one another a perplexed glance, Bulma burst out laughing and led them down the corridor to their suite.
"You have to carry me across the threshold," she said after she unlocked the door and pushed it open. "It's tradition."
"Whatever," he said impatiently, too agitated to even waste precious seconds for a debate. He scooped her up effortlessly and charged through the door, kicking it closed after they entered.
When he set her down, Bulma immediately dropped to her knees before him, fingers working the zipper to his jeans down and extracting his engorged shaft.
Vegeta leaned back against the closed door, staring down at the column of hardened flesh that reared outward from his open fly. Its satin knob was aimed at the moist red lips of the sea-foam haired beauty as she opened her mouth to claim him. Her slippery tongue began its worshipful dance about the sensitive glans, circling and swirling as she worked her lips up and down the thick roll.
It was impossible to resist the savage suction applied by her straining cheeks. Bulma knew that he was close to climax when she felt his lance swell and shudder inside her sucking mouth.
When Vegeta came, he gave only a faint grunt, and his thick essence flooded her throat. She moaned under the onslaught, using her lips to milk the throbbing meat, her tongue licking eagerly across the slitted tip to gather the last delicious drop of his seminal offering. "I have kissed you and tasted you," she said, planting a kiss on the still-hard shaft before she got back to her feet. "Now I intend to ride you, as promised."
Before Bulma, Vegeta had never allowed a woman to assume the dominant position during sex and be on top. Over the months as their relationship developed, he now found that he actually enjoyed it. During the act, as she straddled his hips and set their pace, he liked to imagine that this would be a position that a Saiyan woman would try to assume. He didn't know for sure, and never would, but Bulma's disposition and swift temper rivaled any Saiyan he had ever known and made the fantasy that much more believable.
As they moved towards the large bedroom suite, there was a knock on the door. "Complimentary champagne, courtesy of the Majestic Regency," a voice called out.
"We'll get it later," Bulma was almost panting. "Damn it! I told the front desk no interruptions."
"Ignore it," Vegeta encouraged, kicking his shoes off. He unfastened the button to his jeans and slid them down his lean hips to pull them off. He pulled his top up over his head and faced her, completely nude. Bulma's gaze roved hungrily over the powerful muscles of his chest, arms, and thighs. The part that made him an individual was the thick length of manhood that arched upward from the base of his slabbed stomach.
"Vegeta..." she murmured, urgently pressing her body against him. "I love you so much."
"I know. You tell me that every ten minutes," he said, unbuttoning the straps to her dress and letting it puddle down around her ankles. All that was between them now was a delicate little thong. Once he removed that irritating scrap of fabric, they could finally experience paradise.
"I say it so often because I want you to understand," she said, sighing as his fingers stroked the tingling nipples of her heaving breasts. "You're now the only man in my life. The only person who I'll ever make love to."
"I damn well hope so!"
"But it goes two ways. Do you understand that?"
He stared back at her, matching her earnest expression. She was speaking about commitment and monogamy and trying to find a delicate way to ask if he would honor that obligation. "I swore to an oath and I'm a man of my word. 'For richer or poorer- In sickness and in health'. Bulma Briefs, you are mine."
"And you're mine, Prince Vegeta," she whispered.
"'Until death do us part'," he promised and kissed her.
********************************************************
Chapter Two: The newlywed's meet up with some old... friends as the search for the Dragonballs continues.
"-Loooove is a flower with petals of gooold,
It sways with the wind for lovers to behooold.
Loooove is a star so twinkling and briiight,
Staring from the heavens with its godly siiight.
Loooove-"
"Enough of that shit," Vegeta said and shut the radio off.
Betraying a wounded sound, Bulma turned in the passenger seat to confront him. "Why did you do that? It's a beautiful song."
"The guy sounds like a castrated eunuch," Vegeta growled, slouching back in his seat with his arms crossed. He was presently glowering at the car in front of him and having a poor time ignoring the persistent beeps of the other cars that enveloped them on all sides.
Bulma fanned herself with a magazine and accepted the Saiyan's ill-tempered explanation. She was really too hot to argue. So far they had been a married couple for less than four hours and nothing was going as planned. They had made a quick clothes change after the ceremony and had hoped to beat rush-hour traffic. They were ambushed by the staff as they tried to leave and dragged into a party led by an ecstatic Charles McNeal. Somehow, the eccentric scientist had found out about the secret marriage and told everyone in Research and Development. Due to his innovative designs, Vegeta was held in the highest regard by the department and he and Bulma had little choice but to endure toast after toast that praised their union. The party finally began to wind down when Charles, drunk beyond belief, began to complain about why he hadn't been chosen as Vegeta's best man. Before a brawl ensued, the pair finally managed to escape and begin their first official adventure as husband and wife.
They had made perhaps three miles from home before they became stuck in gridlocked out-bound traffic. The top and both doors were off of Vegeta's jeep and the sun was beating down mercilessly. The air conditioner was running full blast but the cold air it provided quickly evaporated in the muggy heat.
"If we were in one of my cars, we'd at least be waiting in relative comfort," Bulma groused. Vegeta had insisted on taking his out-dated vehicle because he was THE MAN and wanted to do all the driving.
"Well, you can't very well pop a capsule here. There's barely enough room to breathe. Get used to it."
"Easy for you to say, you're immune to the heat."
Vegeta flashed her an irritated glare. He was wearing a black tank top and loose jeans that should have been attracting the sun's rays but he didn't appear to notice. In truth, he was actually damned uncomfortable but it had nothing to do with the heat and she knew it. He glanced at the dashboard clock for the fifth time in ten minutes and slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration.
"Take it easy. Traffic will start moving soon enough," Bulma told him calmly.
"You said that thirty minutes ago!" he snapped. "Why the hell couldn't we have spent the night at Capsule Corp. and just leave in the morning? This doesn't make any damned sense!"
"I am NOT going to consummate our marriage in my parent's house!" she said in a hard voice. "I made reservations at the hotel in the next city for a reason."
"A fat lot of good that's doing us right now," he grumbled, glancing at her sidelong. Bulma was wearing a silk-knit halter dress that was quickly becoming see-through the more she perspired. As she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the short hem of the dress pulled up to her thigh before she readjusted it.
The mere glance of her flesh was just too much. In one desperate move Vegeta leapt on top of her, straddled the passenger seat, and began groping her body as he kissed her. In the car beside them, a mother took one look at the scene and tried to cover the eyes of her curious six-year old. Behind them, a bunch of college students crammed into a Mini were beeping their encouragement. Obviously, it wasn't long before they became the center of attention.
"Are you crazy? Knock it off!" Bulma yelled, swatting at him with the magazine.
"I can't wait anymore," he panted raggedly. Pulling open the top of her dress, he managed one lick at her nipple before she kicked him off.
Blushing furiously, Bulma pulled her top closed and tried to disappear in her seat. "You can wait a few more hours."
"I've been waiting long enough!" he bellowed.
That was the truth. To lend more 'punch' to their wedding night, Bulma had cut him off three weeks before the ceremony. She said that it was a popular choice among couples that had been living together for an extended period. Vegeta just thought it was cruel and unusual punishment for a crime he hadn't committed. The moment he had first laid eyes on her in that flowing white wedding dress he had started getting aroused. That wasn't something easily concealed in the spandex he had worn and it had taken all of his mental willpower not to look like a pervert in front of Bulma's family and the minister. Once in his street clothes, it wasn't so obvious but he had been sporting a half-hard erection ever since they had finally escaped Capsule Corp. Right now, however, there wasn't anything half-assed about it. He was at full attention and nearly stark-raving crazy with lust. Trapped in the close confines of the jeep he could actually smell her womanhood and he started to visibly shake.
"Vegeta-" she reached out towards him.
"Don't touch me! Not unless you're prepared to start something you intend to finish," he growled, recoiling away from her. He was close to snapping and knew from past experience no amount of spectators would distract him from his purpose once he got started. During his days of hanging with Radditz and Nappa, there had been times when having sex had been a public sport. As Bulma shifted position, he caught wind of her heady woman-scent and had to jump out of the jeep.
"Where are you going?!" she asked in alarm.
"To find out what's holding up the bloody traffic."
"...Looking like that?" She was pointing to the front of his jeans and the obvious bulge outlined against his left thigh.
Too aggravated to form words, he released a sound like a hiss and fazed out of sight. There were some startled exclamations by the people who had been watching them and Bulma was grateful when they went back to talking among themselves. Truth to tell, she was just as sexually frustrated as Vegeta felt and was eager to feel him inside of her. But certainly not here!
Every chance that she got, she stared at the ring on her left hand and had to touch it to assure herself that it was real. The huge diamond that Vegeta had given her was currently in the hands of a master jeweler who was cleaning and faceting it. At her request, the jeweler had cut off a 2-carat segment, given it an exclusive Asscher cut, and set it in a platinum band that was now her wedding ring. It was the most special, most beautiful thing she had ever owned in her life.
Just a few more hours, she thought longingly as she began fanning herself again with the battered magazine. In a few short hours we'll finally get to make love as husband and wife. How romantic is that?
She won't let me screw her, Vegeta was thinking at the precise moment as he was crouched in a nearby ditch. How fucked-up is that?
So far, his impression of marriage was poor and it didn't look to be improving anytime soon. If someone had taken the time to explain precisely what he was getting himself into, he never would have dug for the rock that had put this whole mess into motion: Three weeks of perplexing celibacy, her parents acting even weirder than normal, getting dressed up into costumes for a boring sermon that had lasted all of ten minutes. These humans were crazy!
What confused him the most was the platinum band that encircled the third finger of his left hand. Bulma wore a gaudier version that had a piece of the diamond he had given her. She explained that wearing the items symbolized their union. To Vegeta, it suggested that they were mutual property. He wasn't about to sacrifice his hard-won independence just so that he wear the equivalence of a dog collar. They continued to argue over the issue right up until the day before the ceremony. Bulma relented that he wear his wedding band only until they had collected all of the Dragonballs and made the wish. No longer. He probably would have said no even to that compromise but he was bored to death with the ridiculous topic. He agreed simply to shut her up.
Or was it something else? The more he looked at the odd object on his hand, the less it bothered him. Bulma had the jeweler engrave the ring with the royal crest of Vegetasei and the sight of that design offered perplexing comfort. It should have been a symbol of loss but it seemed to have become one that promised a fresh start. For him. For what the Vegeta line had become. For his son. And his wife...
"Bulma," he murmured. The woman had a hold on him, that much was for certain but he couldn't deny the truth that his life had improved as a result. He was now a wealthy man in his own right, associated with this planet's most influential businesswoman. The wealth and power that the Briefs wielded made them equal to any royalty in the universe. Being extremely conscious of class and social status, Vegeta concluded that the sole reason Bulma was allowed a place in his dark heart was simply because: She was WORTHY.
She was also one hell of an exciting piece of ass, which was why he was currently hiding in this filthy ditch. The traffic still hadn't moved and neither had his throbbing manhood. Out of desperation, he unzipped his fly and it took scarcely two pumps before he ejaculated into the dirt. It was a waste but at least he could walk among civilians again and not look like a circus freak. It took the edge off of his anxiety too, if only until he got into the jeep again. Zipping himself back up, he climbed up to the highway and decided to isolate the cause of the traffic jam.
A half a kilometer away, a 22-wheeler had jack-knifed to avoid a fender bender and overturned, completely blocking traffic on both sides. Both news and police helicopters were hovering over the scene, while a crew of police and fire fighters mingled uselessly around, trying to figure out what to do.
"Hey," Vegeta said, materializing behind one chubby cop. "What's the hold up?"
The officer gave him a startled double take. Curious onlookers were told to stand several meters away behind the accident tape and orange pylons. How the hell had this guy slipped through without anybody noticing? "You're not allowed to be here-"
"Don't you tell me what I'm allowed to do. Get that piece of shit off the road."
Rolling his eyes, the cop shook his head in dismay. There always had to be at least one asshole in every crowd and this day seemed to be no exception. "We called for a crane to be flown in. It'll take about two hours to get here."
"I can't wait that long! Move it now!"
"How?" The cop decided to humor him. "What do you expect me to do? Pick it up myself?"
"Not you, lardass," Vegeta growled and stomped over to where the rig and its overloaded box were lying on its side. Still wearing that tolerant expression on his wide face, the chubby cop waved away his buddies who were moving in to intercept him. "Ah, let him take a look. Maybe it'll shut him up," he told his partner in a smug tone.
It took perhaps Vegeta all of a few seconds to see what needed to be done. He called over to the large officer, "Where do you want me to move it?"
"Is this guy for real?" his partner chuckled.
"What is he, five feet tall?" commented another. "Hell, my ten year old kid is bigger than him."
"Oh, this is rich," the fat cop said. He gestured to the left of the highway and instructed, "Throw it as far away as you can! Right over into that field! Ah heck, why not into the next state while you're at it?"
Everyone was starting to laugh and Vegeta's earlier agitation returned with a vengeance. "You've got it," he snarled through clenched teeth. He sank his fingers into the heavy steel to get a firm grip and flung the entire tractor-trailer into the sky as hard as he could. The massive rig went flying end-over-end and quickly disappeared out of sight. Not long after that, a small mushroom cloud appeared on the horizon where the unfortunate vehicle finally impacted with the ground.
Nobody was laughing anymore. Vegeta sauntered over to the where the fat cop was still pointing at the side of the road. Slapping him on one round cheek to get his attention, the Saiyan said, "I just did your job now go do yours. Get this traffic moving!"
The gathered crowd of witnesses were applauding and cheering but when the helicopters started to swing around, Vegeta decided that it was time to make himself scarce. He fazed out of sight with that uncanny speed of his, leaving the stunned cops and firefighters to stare at the skid marks on the asphalt that was the only sign anything had ever been there.
"So... uh, how're we gonna explain this one, Ralph?" the chubby cop's partner finally spoke up.
Ralph could only offer a mute one-armed shrug.
"What did you do?" Bulma asked when Vegeta appeared beside the jeep and climbed back into the driver's seat. Everyone else had left their own vehicles and were standing on the side of the road watching the fading tendrils of smoke from the distant explosion.
"If it gets us moving, who cares?" he countered.
"I care. You promised that you'd keep a low profile."
"No, what I promised was that I wouldn't blow up anymore cities- At least not until we wish back the one I already erased. That's the whole point of this ridiculous trip."
Bulma backed down and shelved the criticism for the time being. The Saiyan was a little calmer than when he had left and she didn't want to provoke him. "Thank you," she said instead.
He looked at her warily, expecting her usual sarcasm but she only added, "For speeding up the wait. The sooner we check-in at the hotel the better."
It was the right thing to say. Vegeta's eyes narrowed into a mischievous squint and he smirked at her. It was the first time he had smiled since that morning. "Got that right," he said in a husky purr, giving her body a thorough look from ankle to neck and back down again. Running his tongue slowly along his teeth, he finally assured her, "By the time I'm through with you, you won't even be able to remember your own name."
"... oh," she breathed, feeling the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck prickle and rise. When he looked at her like that, it always excited her. She had always been attracted to danger and here was the living embodiment of it, sitting barely two feet away.
Leaning towards him eagerly, her pursed lips invited his mouth, and Vegeta accepted the offer without hesitation. Their kiss was a long and industrious fusing of lips and tongues, their teeth scraping lightly as they sought an even closer contact in the confined space. Bulma cupped his groin and kneaded her fingers into the denim and he responded by sliding one free hand slowly up her inner thigh. She moaned her encouragement to that touch, spreading her legs. Her panties were already damp and her clitoris was vibrating with exquisite tremors. One stroke of his finger and she would go off like a rocket. Almost there... so close... oh! That's it! Right there! Touch me right-
An air horn blasted off beside them and the pair jumped in shock. They looked around, dazed, and noticed for the first time that the traffic was finally moving.
"Of all the piss-poor timing," Bulma grumbled under her breath while Vegeta fumbled with the keys and got the jeep started. Struggling with his composure, the Saiyan almost ripped out the gearshift as he rammed it into first and got them moving. All that little make-out session accomplished was make them both hot and bothered and his erection was back, harder than ever. He was tempted to just encapsulate the jeep and fly them quickly to their next destination but Bulma insisted that they search for the damned balls 'the old fashioned way'. Whatever the hell that meant. All that he knew for certain was that if he upset her now, he might as well go back to whacking off in the ditch. "How long?"
She knew what he meant. "We should be at the hotel in four hours."
Gunning the engine he promised her, "We'll be there in three."
They traveled along the coastline, heading east on a busy stretch of road that was clogged with tourists, cyclists, and other slow-moving sightseers. Vegeta wove the jeep in and out of the traffic like he was in a race against time (and in some ways he was- Bulma's smell of arousal was starting to affect him again). He passed on double-lines, around blind curves, and more than once darted around vehicles using the right-hand shoulder, spraying gravel as the jeep's large tires spun for purchase. Buckled into her seat, Bulma was screaming with each dangerous maneuver but it wasn't out of fear. She had always been a speed junky and thrived on taking risks. Vegeta wasn't doing anything that she hadn't done in her own car. If anything, he was actually more cautious. "Oh- This is GREAT! WHEEE!"
"Woman, you are insane," Vegeta told her but he was having as much fun as she was. Forcing her eyes away from the swiftly passing sights, Bulma took the opportunity to give him a thorough, loving appraisal. It had taken some time for his system to shake the after-affects of Frieza's poison but he appeared to have finally made a full recovery. He had gained back all of his weight and his muscle tone was once more the epitome of physical perfection. The only thing that was any reminder of that terrible time was that his hair still wasn't its unruly length that he favored. Privately, Bulma liked the way it looked and the way that it seemed to ease the harshness of his features. At least he no longer tried to hide it under a baseball cap anymore. "I love you, Vegeta."
"Uh huh," he muttered, but passed her an endearing little smirk that made her giggle in delight. That moment lasted until a state trooper drove by and immediately did a U-turn to begin pursuit.
"Uh oh," the pair mouthed together, sharing one comical look. Then Vegeta put his foot on the gas pedal all the way to the floor and seriously began darting in an out of the heavy traffic as the cruiser steadily closed in. This time when Bulma screamed, it wasn't out of excitement but pure terror.
"What do you think you're doing? Pull over!" Bulma shouted, gripping the sides of her seat with panicky fingers. "You can't outrun that police car. What's a little ticket for speeding?"
"Hnh. Look in the glove compartment."
She pressed the latch and an explosion of papers burst out of the small space, snatched by the wind. She snagged a handful and saw that the majority of them were old speeding tickets from the time he had been living in Pitch. There were also more recent tickets from his driving in the Western Capital. "Parking tickets. That's not surprising- I have a few of them myself but... 'Verbally harassing a police officer'," Bulma was reading a few of the others she found, "'Failure to yield', 'Running a stop light', 'Hitting a pedestrian'? Vegeta, you hit someone with the jeep?"
"I just nudged his ass with the bumper. The old geezer wasn't moving fast enough."
"Oh crap." She slammed the compartment closed and tried to come up with a solution. She was drawing a rare blank. "Vegeta, this is getting serious! Why didn't you tell me before we drove off?"
"I didn't think it was important. The tickets aren't in my name," he told her with surprising calm in his voice. She took another look at one of the scraps that had fluttered to the floor and sure enough, it had the name of the dead soldier whose identity Vegeta had adopted for a short time.
"Not important? They're going to haul your ass into jail when they catch you!"
Vegeta released an amused chuckle. "That'll never happen. Hold on."
"Why? What are you-" She released a squeal as the Saiyan cut across the front of a car he had been passing and headed straight for the guardrail. Beyond that flimsy barricade was a sheer cliff that dropped about eighty feet into pounding ocean surf and Vegeta was heading straight for it. "You're crazy!"
"You wouldn't have me any other way," he said with a broad grin and smashed through the wood at top speed. They disappeared over the cliff edge in a spray of shattered wood, gravel, and one resounding shriek that was actually louder than the police cruiser siren. When the state trooper slammed on the brakes and ran over to the edge, there was no sign of the suicidal couple. He ran back to his car to call for Search and Rescue.
Out of sight around the bluff, Vegeta had easily deposited the jeep back onto the road and was currently inspecting it for damage. Seated in the passenger seat, Bulma was trying to drink from a water bottle and it took both of her hands to steady it enough to get the lip of the container to her mouth. "Th-that... was... nuts."
"Bah. We got away, that's all that matters," he said, frowning at what he discovered. The bumper was dented, which wasn't a big deal but a large chunk of guardrail had gone through the front grill and perforated the radiator. "Shit," he said in disgust, watching the radiator fluid pour to the ground in a heavy cloud of steam.
"Well, that puts this vehicle out of commission," Bulma said as she came up beside him.
"Can't you fix it?"
"What-? I don't have any parts of this out-dated piece of junk-"
"Watch it!" he warned her. "I happen to like this 'out-dated piece of junk'. It has character, not like those brightly colored, hover-car abominations everyone drives. I've spent a lot of time in this jeep. It's mine."
She gave him a startled glance at the rare admission. Aside from the gravity simulator, there weren't many other things that Vegeta really thought of as a valued possession. There was very little that she knew about what he had gone through when he had moved to Pitch. Too sick to fly, he'd had to learn how to operate this vehicle in order to drive across the country and come to Trunks aid. She imagined that as he drove that lonely distance, he had spent many long hours thinking in this very jeep. "We'll encapsulate it for now," she said in a softer voice. "I'll fix it when we get back home."
"Can you?"
"I think so, yes."
He nodded once and stepped around to the back bumper and pressed the switch beneath the left brake light. In a cloud of smoke, the battered jeep disappeared, instantly condensed into a small capsule that he picked up and put in his back pocket. "I'll fly us the rest of the way."
Bulma had been rummaging through her purse for her own car capsule. "I told you before; there will be no cheating on this trip," she said in a hard voice as she pulled it out. "We're using Earth vehicles, no ki."
"!!AAGHHH!!" Vegeta stormed a short distance away, grappled unsuccessfully with his rage, and angrily came stomping back. "What is it with this stupid obsession of yours? If we did things my way, we could gather the stupid Dragonballs in a couple of days. Why do you want to drag out this torture?"
"Torture?" she asked in a wounded voice. "You're calling our honeymoon 'torture'? HOW DARE YOU! I took two weeks off from work- time that I really can't spare from the company- just so that we could spend this time together. You should be flattered."
He snorted. "Why?"
Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Because I want this time with you with no distractions: No damned gravity simulator training, no battle on the horizon, no life-threatening illness. For the very first time, we're together as husband and wife. I don't think you've absorbed the significance of that commitment, Vegeta. Things are no longer the way they were. We're a part of each other's lives from this day on." She paused for a moment to compose her thoughts and then yelled at him: "So we ARE going to take the ENTIRE two weeks to hunt for the Dragonballs whether you LIKE it or NOT!"
His face flushed alarmingly and she knew she had gone to far when that telltale vein popped out on his temple. For one long moment, the pair glared at one another and of the two, it was Bulma who finally dropped her eyes first. "I-I knew it was too much to ask-"
"Oh, stop your whining and pop the damn capsule already. We're wasting time," he snarled.
She gave one startled blink and broke out into a hopeful smile. "You-you mean...?"
"We'll do things your way," he said and dropped his voice to a low growl as he added, "For now."
"Oh, thank you, Vegeta!" she cried happily, depressing the switch and throwing the capsule over her shoulder as she continued to gush; "You won't regret it. We're going to have a wonderful adventure together. It'll be just like the old days when I was a teenager and set out on my own to search for the Dragonballs the very first time. That was when I first met G- "
"What." he interrupted her. "The fuck. Is that?" He was pointing to the vehicle that had materialized behind her.
Bulma whirled and was shocked not to see her souped-up sports car. In its place was a small, pink moped with flowers painted on the front fender and a little wire basket perched between the handlebars. "That's Daisy. Mom uses her for local errands."
"What the hell are you doing with that thing?"
She looked into her purse in confusion. "I must have grabbed the wrong capsule before we left. Everything was so hectic I didn't think to stop to check. My spare capsule packet is packed away with the rest of my luggage."
"Well, you better unpack it. I'm not getting on that," he said harshly. He had never wished for a brightly colored, hover-car abomination so much in his entire life.
She looked him in frustration. "I packed enough clothes, gear, and accessories for two weeks. Do you have any idea how long that will take to sort through?"
"I'm prepared to wait."
"Well, I'm not," she sniffed and hiked up her dress and straddled the seat of the moped. She might have relented and searched though her belongings for the packet until the Saiyan copped the attitude. Now it was a battle of wills. She picked up the helmet lying in the basket and put it on, then turned the key to the ignition. Daisy's tiny engine sounded like a cross between a sewing machine and a weed eater. "Get on, Vegeta. We'll be in Carterville in less than an hour."
Vegeta wasn't moving. He shook his head once. "Not a chance."
"Fine. I'll meet you there!" she yelled back and sped off in a cloud of blue smoke accompanied by one loud backfire of protest. After about twenty meters down the road, she slowed and looked back. She wasn't surprised to see that the Saiyan was gone.
"Stubborn ass," she grumbled, pulling onto the road again and coaxing the moped up to it's top speed (which was about 60 kilometers an hour). Daisy shuddered, backfired, and wearily accelerated but the little engine sounded like it was sobbing. Ignoring this, Bulma kept her eyes on the road, which was starting to blur through a veil of bitter tears. This was supposed to be her special day, dammit! Nothing was going right! She wiped her eyes with a curse and squeezed the handlebars in a deathgrip. How DARE Vegeta abandon her like this? When she saw him again-
Dropping out of the sky, Vegeta landed squarely in place behind her causing Daisy to pop a wheelie. It took all of Bulma's driving ability to get the front tire back down before they were thrown onto the road. "Dammit, Vegeta! You could give a little warning the next time you do that."
"Whatever."
"I thought that you were too macho to be seen on this thing," she snapped over her left shoulder. "What changed your mind?"
There was a sly look on his face that immediately placed her on guard. "Male prerogative. I considered the benefits."
"Oh yeah? And what are those?"
He gave no answer but his arms encircled her and his hands immediately cupped her breasts- and showed no sign of releasing them anytime soon.
"Vegeta- let go. Those aren't airbags!" she cried indignantly.
His lips fastened on the soft skin of her neck before he nibbled playfully on her earlobe. "I would suggest," he rasped into her ear as he began rubbing himself against her, "that you get this piece of junk up to its top speed."
She could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back and her nipples hardened beneath his squeezing hands. "O-okay," she agreed and twisted the accelerator. Daisy backfired again and made a sound like a wheezing cough, but she wearily obeyed. Scarcely able to focus on the road as Vegeta fondled her body, Bulma noticed for the first time that the fuel gauge was close to empty. "Oh mom..." she sighed.
"What's wrong now?"
"We're almost out of gas. I'll have to pull in at the next service station."
"Yes, of course you will..." she heard him grumble behind her and she was almost disappointed when he dropped his hands. On such a heavily traveled road, it wasn't long before a gas station came into sight and Bulma steered towards one of the pumps. Vegeta jumped off before they had reached a full stop and immediately headed for the Men's restroom. She didn't bother calling out to him and embarrass him further, knowing where he was going and why. She was giggling when she picked up the nozzle and filled up the tank.
He rejoined her just as she was paying the attendant. "That was quick."
Scowling, he snarled, "You don't say that to a man. Ever."
"Oh, I was just kidding," she said, kissing him. He didn't respond to the gesture and she knew from experience that her apology was definitely NOT accepted. She was going to suggest that they go inside the adjoining restaurant and grab an early supper when a man pulled up beside of them, gunning the engine. Leaning out of the window of his large truck, he sneered, "Hey, that's one hell of a chopper that you've got there, fella! Wanna drag race?"
"Get lost," Bulma shouted back.
"Why don't you ditch the runt, sweetheart? Let a real man take you for a ride!" He sped off in a squeal of tires, doing a donut in front of them and dangerously coming close to hitting Daisy. As he sped away Vegeta released a snarl and before Bulma could stop him, the Saiyan flicked a destructo disk the size of a dime from his right hand. It flew up into the air intake pipe of the truck and promptly exploded in the gas tank. Both doors flew off of the vehicle, and the engine was immediately reduced to smoldering slag. It skidded along the pavement in a shower of sparks before slowing to a halt several meters away.
Still gripping the steering wheel, the driver found himself sitting in a cloud of smoke. "What the hell-?" he asked in disbelief.
"Two times in less than a day. Sonsabitches." Vegeta was positively frothing in his rage and started across the parking lot to finish what he had started.
Bulma ran in front of him. "It's okay. No harm was done. Leave him alone, Vegeta."
"I'm sick and tired of the fucking short jokes!" he yelled at her. "I was never meant to be this size. It's not my fault!"
She was completely taken aback by the outburst. "Wha-what are you talking about? I've never said anything-"
"Not you." He was glaring daggers at the driver who was wandering around his demolished truck like a man stuck in a bad dream. People were starting to wander over and ask the flustered man what had happened. "Them. No better than fodder for a Galactic Gun. All of them. It would be so easy..." His right hand clenched into a tight fist and began glowing an ominous blue.
Gooseflesh broke out on both of her arms. She hated it when he spouted that doomsday talk and had never realized that he was so sensitive about his height. It wasn't something that he had ever betrayed before. She catalogued the incident to be thoroughly analyzed later, when there wasn't the threat of a body count looming on the horizon. "They're not worth it. This is our wedding day. Don't spoil it for me, Vegeta. Please? Let's just get going."
Vegeta showed no sign of budging. He continued to glare at the driver with concentrated hatred. It seemed to be a long time before he finally dropped his black gaze to hers. Bulma's blue eyes were wide with entreaty and it took some visible effort for him to finally turn his back on the growing crowd. "You just saved their lives," he coldly informed her and marched back to Daisy.
Lingering back, Bulma cast a quick glance at the innocent people and forced down a tremor of momentary fear. Had she thought that she actually had control over Vegeta? It was a flimsy tether at best and almost useless when he was provoked, as she was quickly discovering. She was almost tempted to just relent and let him search for the Dragonballs his way.
"No," she said to herself. When she looked back, she saw that Vegeta was back sitting on Daisy without argument. That simple action spoke volumes to her. I can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to. Nobody could, she realized. He's here because he wants to be. He's enduring these constant setbacks because he wants to stay near me. Am I really going to give up on that rare opportunity? "No," she said again. "I'm not giving up. I love him. He's my... husband," that last word suffused her with fresh hope and strengthened her resolve.
As she returned to the moped to continue their journey into Carterville, there was a distinct trill from her purse.
"I thought you shut off your phone," Vegeta said peevishly. Bulma's mother had started calling them practically the minute they had left Capsule Corp. and Bulma had turned it off to give them some peace.
"That's not my cellphone, it's the Dragonball radar," she said as she pulled it out and read the dial. Her eyes widened in alarm. "The Dragonball I'd located- It... it's moving."
"What?"
"The reason I chose Carterville first was because that was where the closest Dragonball lied. I figured that we could go to our hotel room and collect it at our leisure when we were... y'know, through," she blushed. "Now, though, it's moving out of the city limits."
"So what?" Vegeta said in a bored tone of voice. "As a single unit it's no good to anyone and they're almost impossible to destroy. Let's just get to the hotel. We'll track it down tomorrow," his previous pout dissolved into a lopsided-smirk, "Or the day after that."
"Aren't you even curious about who has it or why?"
"No," came the predictable answer. "I'm more curious about what you've got on under that dress. Or more importantly, what you haven't."
"Vegeta!" She crossed her arms deliberately over her breasts as his eyes roved eagerly over them. "I won't be able to relax knowing someone else might have their grubby hands on that Dragonball. We have to track it down right now."
Vegeta's face darkened with the appearance of this new roadblock. His mind immediately translated 'won't be able to relax' correctly into 'won't spread my legs'. His nerves were worn raw from all of these cockteasing delays and the hand-to-gland sessions were only making things worse. He was starting to wonder if she really did want him to screw her or if this was all just a convenient act to delay their coupling.
"How about it, Vegeta?" she prompted when his usual silence stretched on. "Are we still a team?"
This bullshit has to be some sort of twisted test, he brooded. He was no stranger to them; Frieza and his goons had always been trying to find some new way to get him to screw up. Some had evaluated his endurance, while others had measured his skills. The ones requiring patience had been the absolute worst and that looked to be what he was currently stuck in. It had to be another part of the ceremony to gauge if he was truly worthy of her.
"...Vegeta?" a note of worry crept into her voice.
His shoulders slumped. He knew that he was a living magnet for bad luck, but this day just had to be the worst in recent memory. "Yes, woman. We're a... team."
Whooping in happiness, she hopped onto Daisy like she was jumping on the back of a bronco. "I love you, Vegeta!"
"Yeah, yeah," he said unconvincingly.
"Always the tough guy," she sighed, fastening on her helmet. As she turned the ignition, she cried out: "Giddy-up Daisy!"
Daisy responded with a backfire loud enough to turn heads. The pair sped away in a cloud of blue smoke and pulled back onto the road. As Bulma coaxed the little moped up to its full speed, she was wondering if Vegeta was seriously angry with her. Just as she was about to pull over and ask him, his hands came around her and grabbed her breasts again. This time she didn't try to pull them off.
As they closed in on Carterville, Vegeta took the opportunity to absorb the sights, which wasn't something he usually did. Conquering planets had been a means to an end and evaluating the aesthetics of the surroundings had been considered frivolous. As near as he could tell, Earth seemed to be a complex world of varying climates and landmarks that seemed to change with alarming regularity. He had never been on any world long enough to experience the steady progression of seasons and his recollections of Vegetasei were, sadly, quite poor. Even after his extended time on this world, he was beginning to realize that he had hardly scratched the surface in witnessing all that the planet had to offer.
Two weeks, he thought, nuzzling the back of Bulma's neck and relishing her scent. Maybe it won't be so bad-
Daisy hit a pothole and wobbled before Bulma got the steering under control.
... then again...
"We're almost near it," Bulma called to him. She had the Dragonball radar perched in the basket and was dividing her concentration between it and the road. "Be on your guard and keep your eyes peeled."
"For what?"
"It could be anything!" she said with rising excitement. "It could be a giant, or a fierce dragon trying to take the Dragonball back to its nest. It could be a troop of Red Ribbon soldiers or some more androids, or-"
"-Or it could be a pair of rednecks in a pick-up truck," she heard Vegeta comment. Sure enough, a battered old truck passed them and in the back, perched on top of a pile of old scavenged parts and junk, was the four-star Dragonball.
"Oh," Bulma said in disappointment.
"Glad I came along," Vegeta snickered from behind her. "You're going to need me to defend you against those evil villains."
Purposely ignoring him, Bulma waved frantically as she tried to attract the driver's attention but it was no use. The truck was gradually pulling ahead. "They don't see me!"
"You are pathetic," Vegeta sighed and flicked another disk from his fingers. Fortunately this one was weak and only blew out the vehicle's back left tire. Lurching out of control for a few seconds, the driver quickly slowed down and managed to get it safely over to the side of the road. The pair got out and inspected the flat as Bulma pulled up behind them. "Are you guys alright?" she called out.
The driver, an old pot-bellied farmer in rubber boots, was scratching his head. "I dunno what we hit. The blasted tires are almost brand new. But yeah, we're okay."
Bulma cast a sullen glare at Vegeta who continued his self-righteous smirking. "I'll handle this."
"Call me if you need back-up," he said and started chuckling to himself when she slammed the helmet into the basket in frustration.
She fluffed up her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and, after a quick check in the moped's mirror to ensure that her make-up wasn't smeared, walked slowly over to the befuddled pair. Vegeta knew what the outcome was going to be even before the farmer gave Bulma the Dragonball with no questions asked. The dress she was wearing left little to the imagination and when she put her mind to it, no man could resist her.
Including me, Vegeta reluctantly admitted. When she came strutting back holding her prize, he found it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings for her. They went beyond mere lust and entered into realms that he didn't know he even possessed. Trust. Admiration. Even affection. Perhaps struggling amidst the shadows of his heart was even that elusive L-word she liked to use so often.
Before he could betray too much of his thoughts, he clapped slowly three times. "Bravo," he said flatly.
"See? There's still wonderful people on this world. I offered them money and they wouldn't take a dime."
Vegeta suspected that her near see-through dress and excited jiggling had been more than enough payment for the Dragonball. Still, he couldn't deny the end result; it was in her possession and she was happy. It was more than he could have hoped for with the way things were going lately. "We're going to the hotel." It was not a question.
"Yes, we're going straight to the hotel," she said when she secured the Dragonball in the basket. She hopped on the moped to face him and grabbed a handful of his tank top, pulling him towards her. "I can hardly wait to be alone with you," her words gusted warmly against his face. "I am going to kiss you, taste you, and ride you. We're going to make love all night long." Her lips closed over his and she kissed him, doing a slow and thorough job of it. When they finally parted, she nibbled playfully on his bottom lip. "What do you think of that, lover?"
"I think maybe we should have gone for the stupid Dragonball first," he said honestly. This sudden aggressiveness on her part was entirely unexpected and a definite turn-on. He had never seen her like this before; exhilarated, wanton, carefree. Away from Capsule Corporation, she became a completely different person who thrived on adventure and reveled in action. He was relieved to have endured the test long enough to see this side of her. It made all of the frustrations worth it.
Well... almost.
Turning in her seat, Bulma wasted no time starting Daisy and speeding them towards their ultimate goal; The Majestic Regency Hotel in Carterville. It was a turn-of-century landmark that was one of the city's oldest, most influential resorts and lied on a jutting bluff that presented an unrivaled view of the ocean. Bulma had reserved the Honeymoon suite weeks in advance and had done it under a false name to ensure that reporters not catch wind of her appearance and ruin their peace. She wanted to travel in relative anonymity- partially because she loathed the media, and also to spare Vegeta the additional stress of dealing with obnoxious newshounds. In the few times that they had been seen in the Capital together, there had always been some shutterbug snapping their picture. As ever, there was a question mark beside Vegeta's face when the picture ran the next day in the society pages. Gossip was almost as important a commodity as wealth in Bulma's elite circle and the Saiyan was a hot topic. She wanted to keep him all to herself for as long as she could.
Vegeta didn't pay much attention to the checking-in process as Bulma made small talk with the manager who presented her with the pass-card to their room. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by the way her body moved and had tuned out all other distractions with his usual single-minded tenacity. There were going to be no more distractions that were going to sway him from his intended goal. He was prepared to plunder her ripe body right here in the lobby if he had too, in full view of the staff and guests. He had waited far too long.
As if sharing his impatience, Bulma grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the waiting elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she melted against him with a grateful sigh while his hands slid down her sides and pulled up the dress to her waist. She wriggled her tongue between his teeth as her hand sought the prominent outline of his erection, squeezing and rolling the throbbing shaft through the material of his jeans. Neither had the clarity of mind to hit the stop button and when the doors opened on their floor, they were blissfully ignorant with their mutual fondling until someone released a subdued cough.
An elderly couple was standing in the corridor, patiently waiting to enter and the ardent newlyweds parted reluctantly. "Sorry," Bulma offered as she pulled down her dress. She carefully positioned herself between them and Vegeta as they left the elevator. "We just got married today."
"Congratulations!" the woman beamed while her husband said smoothly, "No apologies are necessary, dear. We couldn't wait for a bed on our wedding night either."
"Harold!" the old woman squawked in horror.
"Well... it's true, isn't it? Remember that park bench-" the elevator doors mercifully closed on the rest of the exchange. Casting one another a perplexed glance, Bulma burst out laughing and led them down the corridor to their suite.
"You have to carry me across the threshold," she said after she unlocked the door and pushed it open. "It's tradition."
"Whatever," he said impatiently, too agitated to even waste precious seconds for a debate. He scooped her up effortlessly and charged through the door, kicking it closed after they entered.
When he set her down, Bulma immediately dropped to her knees before him, fingers working the zipper to his jeans down and extracting his engorged shaft.
Vegeta leaned back against the closed door, staring down at the column of hardened flesh that reared outward from his open fly. Its satin knob was aimed at the moist red lips of the sea-foam haired beauty as she opened her mouth to claim him. Her slippery tongue began its worshipful dance about the sensitive glans, circling and swirling as she worked her lips up and down the thick roll.
It was impossible to resist the savage suction applied by her straining cheeks. Bulma knew that he was close to climax when she felt his lance swell and shudder inside her sucking mouth.
When Vegeta came, he gave only a faint grunt, and his thick essence flooded her throat. She moaned under the onslaught, using her lips to milk the throbbing meat, her tongue licking eagerly across the slitted tip to gather the last delicious drop of his seminal offering. "I have kissed you and tasted you," she said, planting a kiss on the still-hard shaft before she got back to her feet. "Now I intend to ride you, as promised."
Before Bulma, Vegeta had never allowed a woman to assume the dominant position during sex and be on top. Over the months as their relationship developed, he now found that he actually enjoyed it. During the act, as she straddled his hips and set their pace, he liked to imagine that this would be a position that a Saiyan woman would try to assume. He didn't know for sure, and never would, but Bulma's disposition and swift temper rivaled any Saiyan he had ever known and made the fantasy that much more believable.
As they moved towards the large bedroom suite, there was a knock on the door. "Complimentary champagne, courtesy of the Majestic Regency," a voice called out.
"We'll get it later," Bulma was almost panting. "Damn it! I told the front desk no interruptions."
"Ignore it," Vegeta encouraged, kicking his shoes off. He unfastened the button to his jeans and slid them down his lean hips to pull them off. He pulled his top up over his head and faced her, completely nude. Bulma's gaze roved hungrily over the powerful muscles of his chest, arms, and thighs. The part that made him an individual was the thick length of manhood that arched upward from the base of his slabbed stomach.
"Vegeta..." she murmured, urgently pressing her body against him. "I love you so much."
"I know. You tell me that every ten minutes," he said, unbuttoning the straps to her dress and letting it puddle down around her ankles. All that was between them now was a delicate little thong. Once he removed that irritating scrap of fabric, they could finally experience paradise.
"I say it so often because I want you to understand," she said, sighing as his fingers stroked the tingling nipples of her heaving breasts. "You're now the only man in my life. The only person who I'll ever make love to."
"I damn well hope so!"
"But it goes two ways. Do you understand that?"
He stared back at her, matching her earnest expression. She was speaking about commitment and monogamy and trying to find a delicate way to ask if he would honor that obligation. "I swore to an oath and I'm a man of my word. 'For richer or poorer- In sickness and in health'. Bulma Briefs, you are mine."
"And you're mine, Prince Vegeta," she whispered.
"'Until death do us part'," he promised and kissed her.
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Chapter Two: The newlywed's meet up with some old... friends as the search for the Dragonballs continues.