A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON Chapter 11: Tropical Paradise, a dragon ball z fanfic

Chapter 10: Tropical Paradise

Despite his weakened state, Vegeta got them as far as the Amazon Basin in South America. Bulma had been to a great many exotic locations in her relatively short life (some of those places hadn't even been on Earth) but she was unprepared for the vivid spectacle of an unspoiled Rainforest in its entire emerald splendor. All around them they were enveloped by varying shades of green; from soft, spongy fungi at their feet to the towering trees of the canopy overhead. It was a location of such diversity and lushness that Bulma was momentarily cowed into silence as she heard haunting calls from creatures she couldn't put names to, and the melodic songs of brightly plumed birds. "It-it's beautiful," she said in a hushed, reverent voice.

Vegeta regarded the surroundings with half-lidded eyes before his legs finally gave out from underneath of him and he sank to the ground. When Bulma immediately started fussing over him, he pushed her away. "I just need to get some sleep. Go do... something," he gave an irritated wave in the direction of the surrounding jungle and then laid his head down on a pile of leaves. Within seconds, he was asleep.

"Always the tough guy," Bulma sighed and decided to heed his advice. The area was an incredible tangle of ferns and mosses blanketing every conceivable surface and she had to crane her head back at immense trunks of the rainforest trees to try and get an impression of what time of day it was. Nothing electronic had survived their Antarctic adventure and her GPS watch had stopped at a time of 11:35 pm. If she got the angle of the sun right, it was barely midmorning. That heartened her a bit, knowing that she had plenty of daylight left to revel in this exciting wilderness without the threat of darkness hovering in the background.

There was great commotion in the canopy hundreds of feet above the forest floor and Bulma didn't know how it was possible for the Saiyan to sleep through the ruckus. Over the cries of birds and monkeys and insects, she thought that she could detect the sound of running water. Following the source, she discovered a tranquil grotto, walled in craggy stone, with a waterfall spilling into a serene basin. There were large rocks surrounding the water, the sort that would be perfect for sunbathing. "Fantastic!" she said with satisfaction and began removing the many layers of clothing she had put on as a defense against the frigid temperatures of the South Pole. They weren't necessary here, not by any stretch of the imagination, and when she was done, all she had on were a pair of panties and a halter-top.

She stepped carefully into the water, mindful of the rocky footing and sighed with satisfaction as the wetness coated her body. It was neither cold nor hot, but nicely temperate. This is just perfect, she thought, sinking down into the water and swimming across the small pool until she reached the rocks and hauled herself up. She climbed a short distance until she found a long flat shelf that she thought would be perfect for sunning and spread out upon it. It was warm and slightly concave and an exactfit for her body. She was astonished to discover that she was also exhausted from all of the action of the past couple of hours and her eyelids drooped with heaviness. Sparing a brief glance in the direction where Vegeta was sleeping, she figured that they were safe here and she succumbed to the darkness pulling at her limbs, dozing under the warm sunlight in the middle of an exotic rainforest.

It wasn't a restful sleep by any means. As the sun moved along its course in the sky, her resting spot became an area of deep shade and her unconscious body tried to move itself to follow that reassuring light. She had always been a restless sleeper, known for tearing up the blankets and sheets as she tossed and turned around in the bed. Her flailing legs had nailed Vegeta in the groin or kidneys more times than he liked to count. It had been one of the primary reasons that they had unanimously agreed upon a King-sized bed; to put some distance between them so that he could sleep and she could flail around without injuring anyone. Right now, as she slept, she thought that she was back home in that huge bed and rolled over –

- and promptly fell off of her narrow perch and down into the pool ten feet below.

"AGH! Damn it!" She was sputtering when she surfaced, clawing the wet hair away from her face and casting an accusing glare up at the ledge. How she hadn't managed to bean herself on one of those jagged outcrops of rock was a miracle!

"What a sight to wake up to," a deep voice commented a short distance away.

She turned and saw Vegeta leaning against a small tree, watching her with that characteristic smirk on his face. He had stripped down to a single pair of jogging pants and, while she continued to watch, he pulled them down and stepped out of them and joined her in the water, completely nude.

"I fell off of that ledge over there," she muttered, distracted by the sight of him swimming in a lazy circle around her. His gaze was intense and mysterious; it was like watching a predator sizing up its prey before preparing an attack. Despite the warm water, she felt gooseflesh break out all over her body. "One hell of a way to wake up."

"I'm sure."

"How did you sleep?"

"Fine," he commented, continuing to keep a steady eye on her as he easily swam past and around her, never coming too close.

She tracked his progress with a wary eye. "You're acting weird, Vegeta," she said in a suspicious tone.

"Am I?"

"Yes. You're freaking me out."

"Uhm, let's see what else I can do to you," he commented and dove under the water, barely creating a ripple. Bare seconds later, she felt a tickle on her ankle. Looking down she saw the Saiyan leisurely lying on the bottom of the pool, eyeing her from between her legs and, incredibly, still smiling. This kind of playful teasing was rare behavior and Bulma decided to indulge him. She dropped her hands below the surface and slowly slid her panties down over her hips, easily sliding her legs out of fabric. With that done, she closed her eyes, spread her legs and waited. A hand ran up her inner thigh and gently cupped her throbbing sex, and teeth began lightly nipping her left buttock. One finger slid into her easily while another flicked at her nerve-filled center, making her arch her back and moan in pleasure.

That delightful friction, playful at first, became more determined and Bulma began tugging on the fabric of her halter top with anxious fingers. "Just like that... there," she was whispering, her eyes still squeezed tightly closed in growing pleasure. "Right ...there, yesss. Oh god! Yes!" She was close to a climax and her legs were shaking with desire. Beneath the water, feather-soft kisses trailed over her buttocks and lower back while fingers skillfully rubbed, and probed, and tickled. She felt her inner walls clench down on the intrusive digit inside of her and she gave voice to a throaty cry that momentarily silenced the cacophonous jungle. Her back spasmed and she lost her footing and fell backwards into the water, all coordination gone.

Vegeta surfaced and shook the heavy tangles of hair away from his face and watched her as she tried to shake off the effects of her climax. She stood up, sputtering and disheveled, her face flushed and her nipples painfully erect beneath the nearly transparent halter-top. "Oh... That was-was-"

"Fun," he finished for her, wearing a smug grin.

"I thought you didn't 'do' fun," she said, getting her breathing under control and eyeing him shrewdly.

"I didn't do a lot of things before I met you."

"Oh?" She cocked her head to the side as he moved closer to her, watching the rivulets of water that ran down his neck, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone before spilling down over his perfectly sculpted chest. "Like what?"

He stared at her closely and then dropped his eyes to her breasts, reaching beneath the clingy fabric to caress one full mound and teasing the pert nipple with a daring finger. He leaned his head forward slightly and licked her left ear, then ran his tongue down her jaw line and then to her mouth. His lips smothered hers as he plunged his tongue deeply inside, trying to taste every part of her luscious mouth. He opened his eyes in mid-kiss, only to find hers staring right up at his, burning in her passion. He broke away, breathless, saying, "Like this. I never liked it, before. It was too intimate. But with you... I can't get enough of how you taste, or smell, or-or-" he genuinely became lost for words, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"Vegeta," she said wonderingly, searching his face for some sign that they were just words he had just made up on the spot to ensure their approaching intimacy, but he was blushing and that was how she knew it was the truth. "I love you so much!" She reached up with both arms and pulled his head down to hers, renewing the seal of their lips that had been broken only seconds before. Vegeta relished in the contact. He simply could not get enough of her hot mouth, the way her tongue jousted with his own, the sweet sensual way that she tasted. They kissed wildly, passionately, feeding on mutual lust and radiating desire as their hands roamed all over each other's hot, wet skin and eventually down to the juncture of each other's thighs.

She found him erect and began to caress and fondle the thick shaft until she saw that telltale muscle jump in the corner of his jaw. It meant that he was holding himself back with all of his self-control and she didn't want him to waste that precious seed in the water. With a skillful hand, she guided him past her soft folds and into the clasping warmth of her sex, wrapping her legs around his, her ankles digging into his calves as she squirmed and gyrated against him to get the maximum penetration. For as long as a minute, they stood locked in that hot embrace, their mouths straining, their tongues slashing, their hands roaming as the emotions boiled over.

Finally, Vegeta waded out of the pool and found a spot of ground nearby that was covered with wide jade-colored fronds over a natural bed of soft moss. Their lovemaking began with a slow and measured rocking back and forth but began to quickly intensify. The fleshy padding of her buttocks cushioned his forceful thrusts, her writhing hips the only thing between him and the earth. As he pounded away at her, he walked his lips up her cheek and found her mouth, panting in her exertions. Their kisses were fevered, touches were roughly tender, the two melded into one, each feeling, giving and receiving pleasure. She fisted her fingers in his thick hair and took as much from his mouth as he took from hers, urging him on with breathless whimpers; Come, come, come...

Shortly after, they were back in the water again, washing off a combination of sweat and dirt from their efforts on the jungle floor. There was still a sign of that mischievous streak to the Saiyan as they swam around in aimless circles, occasionally splashing one another. Bulma climbed up to her earlier perch and executed a perfect swan dive. Not to be outdone, he launched himself from the rock and executed two swift flips before hitting the water. After that it became a diving competition between the pair.

"Why do you even bother trying?" he called up to her as she got into position on the sturdy ledge. "You know you can't compete against me in anything athletic."

"At least I can try and give you a run for your money," she shouted back.

"It's not a run, it's a waddle," he laughed.

"You ass!" She launched herself from the ledge and tried to imitate one of his flips. She had nowhere near his flexibility or skill and ended up doing a loud belly flop on the water, sinking like a rock.

Even Vegeta had to wince. "That had to hurt," he muttered under his breath. When she didn't surface right away, his brow furrowed in concern and he swam over to the spot where she fell. "Woman? Bulma!" He looked quickly around and started to feel a familiar sensation of panic until hands closed around his ankles and pulled him under.

He got away from that loose grip and fought to get back to the surface, sputtering and cursing. "What the hell did you do that for?" he yelled over to where Bulma had surfaced, laughing. "It isn't funny!"

"The look on your face-" she broke off into peels of laughter.

"Not funny at all," he growled and immediately began to swim to the far side where their clothes lied in an untidy pile.

She intercepted him just as he was stepping out of the water. "I was just joking around, Vegeta. No harm done. Alright?"

"How was I to know you weren't hurt?"

She considered the anger on his face and looked back to where they had been diving. "You... thought that little fall hurt me? You were worried?"

"It's another thing I didn't do until I met you," he grumbled peevishly, crossing his arms.

"What, worry? About what?" Her eyes were searching his face again. "About me?"

"You, the brat, us; it's all I ever do anymore," the crimson flush of embarrassment was rising along his jaw line and entering his face again. "I never had to worry about anything before, except saving my own ass."

"Would you want to go back to that?"

"I-" The question caught him off guard. "No," he admitted.

She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. "This is all new to me too, you know. I was used to just traipsing around the planet without a care in the world. Now I'm a mother, a wife, and president of a company. It can all get a little overwhelming."

"That's putting it mildly."

"But we'll get through this together. That's what being married is all about. We're not alone anymore. We're a team."

He pulled away from her a little. "I'm not exactly a team player."

"Our team has exclusive membership. It can only have two members," she tipped him a playful wink.

He had to smile despite himself. She had such a way of making him see things in a unique perspective and calming him. When she pulled his face back to meet her lips in a deep tongue-searching kiss, he didn't resist her. He couldn't. When they parted his words gusted softly against her face, "Bulma, you make me feel..."

"What, Vegeta?" She softly pressed her full lips to his brow, kissing him gently, before moving down. Following the shape of his eyes, the curve of his cheek, the outline of his jaw, and the angle of his chin with her lips. She ran the tip of her tongue across his lower lip, tracing the smooth contours before slowly sliding her tongue between them again. "How do I make you feel?" she whispered into his mouth.

"Like-like-" His eyes opened a bare crack and suddenly widened in alarm. "SHIT!"

Bulma whirled around and released a screech that would have rivaled an adult Void Worm. Part of it was shock, but the other was pure unadulterated rage that they been spied on this entire time and no one had bothered to speak up and make their presence known earlier. "What the hell are all of you doing here!" she screamed.

Yamcha swallowed with difficulty and backed up into Tien, Chiaotzu, and Piccolo, who were bringing up the rear. All four wore identical expressions of shock and mortification as they tried to look everywhere else except at the obviously naked and very angry heiress standing right in front of them. Even the huge Namek wore a deeper emerald hue than normal when he managed to find his voice; "We sensed an immense ki from Vegeta. We thought that he might be in trouble."

"Bullshit," Vegeta snarled from the heavy brush and emerged wearing a pair of sweatpants. Bulma gaped at him and actually glanced behind her before registering that she was left all alone in the nude. She dashed forward to grab and armload of clothes and streaked off into a dense cover of ferns. "You thought she was the one in trouble."

Tien shrugged. "It isn't as if we wouldn't have a reason to be concerned."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Vegeta shouted, lunging forward.

"That's enough," Piccolo said, deliberately stepping between the two rivals before things became messy. Of all of them, he knew that he was probably the only person besides Gohan who the Saiyan didn't hate on sight, and he hoped to use it to his advantage and get quickly to the matter at hand. "All of us sensed you power up to a level you haven't used since battling Cell. We had to investigate. You would have done the same."

Vegeta backed off a little at the blunt logic.

"What happened?"

"I don't answer to you, Namek," he sneered. "So get out of my face before I Galactic Gun your green ass all over this fucking rainforest."

Scowling, the huge alien reluctantly rejoined the others. He had hoped to find the mercurial Saiyan reasonable, figuring that this enigmatic human ritual called marriage would have tempered him a little. As usual, where matters involving Vegeta were concerned, it ended in disaster. They would find no explanation from that cold, resentful person glaring back at them. That began a four-against-one staring contest that was over even before it began as the Saiyan suddenly turned to look in the direction where his bride was getting dressed, "Bulma."

The rustling ferns momentarily stopped moving. "What?"

"Your loser friends want an explanation as to what happened in the south. Will you tell them."

"Sure."

"I'll leave you to it," he said and took to the air without so much as a backwards glance, leaving her and the well-intentioned fighters all on their own. Tien glanced in the direction that the Saiyan had gone, to the bushes where Bulma was hiding, and back up to the overhanging canopy again. He had witnessed the brusque Saiyan actually make a request from Bulma instead of demand one. It was subtle, a thing that a person who didn't know the alien wouldn't easily pick up but Tien noticed it right away. Judging by the surprised looks on the others faces; they had noticed it, too.

At long, long last, the constant anxiety between Tien's shoulders began to finally ease. Vegeta was different. In a good way. The marriage between the two, as shocked and as skeptical as he had first been when he had read about during the Himalayan blizzard, actually appeared to be a beneficial union between the two. Bulma's trademark bitchiness actually appeared to be waning and Vegeta's instability seemed to be under firm control. As long as they were together, the Z Fighters could relax.

At least until the pair had a fight. Or went through a divorce...

The tension between Tien's shoulders came back, worse than ever.

When Bulma was finally dressed, she wasted no time telling them about what had happened in Antarctica and she didn't give them a Reader's Digest condensed version of their adventure, either. She made it a point to explain in detail how Vegeta had saved her life, not once but twice, and how he had dealt with the Void Worms. She knew that Piccolo was in her camp, and Yamcha was coming around to the belief that sometimes, in very rare cases, a leopard could actually change its spots. Chiaotzu didn't appear to hold grudges, he generally went along with whatever his partner felt. Tien, however, wasn't swayed by anything personal that Bulma felt compelled to share. He would always envy the Saiyan's power and fighting ability (among other things) and he would always hate him personally. There would be no swaying him from that opinion. Ever.

"We'll go there immediately," Piccolo said, when she was through explaining the situation.

Hey!" Yamcha quickly interrupted. "I'd like to have more on my back than a t-shirt and jeans if we're going to Antarctica!"

"I'll go on ahead. You three can follow my ki when you're packed and ready," he amended. He passed Bulma a grateful nod and flew off, his white cape flailing like a banner against the canopy before he disappeared from sight.

"C'mon Chiaotzu, looks like we're going back to blizzard country. Let's go retrieve our gear," Tien sighed, and took off in the opposite direction that the Namek had gone.

"Buh-but we only just took it off!" the little man objected as he trailed along behind his friend.

Soon, only Bulma and Yamcha were left alone in the forest. There was an awkward silence between them and the fighter took advantage of the moment to examine his ex-lover as closely as he dared. It looked as though Bulma had lost a little weight during her hectic honeymoon, and gained some distinct muscle tone in the bargain. Her complexion, always flawless, actually appeared to glow with purpose and vitality. Her hair, like her eyes, radiated a steady shine that was indicative of health and vigor. Even her breasts appeared to be firmer, perkier than before. It was as if she had stepped into a time portal and emerged a few years younger. "You-you look..." simply amazing, he wanted to say. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen. "... great," he said instead.

That broke the spell. "Oh, I'm a wreck," she said with a laugh, brushing a hand through her mussed hair. "We lost nearly everything we owned in Antarctica. Vegeta lost all of his clothes, I don't have any make-up, and I'd kill for a hairdryer right now. It's hard to put this Honeymoon into words, Yamcha."

"But it was fun, wasn't it?"

She said without hesitation: "I'd do it all again in a second." Her smile was back, more dazzling than before.

Entranced, Yamcha started to walk towards her and was interrupted by a loud crunch. Looking to his left he saw that Vegeta had returned. He was leaning against the trunk of tree and eating a piece of fruit. His manner appeared casual but his eyes ticked from him, to Bulma, and back again, flashing a clear warning. Yamcha understood that caution radiating from those cold, raven depths and went no closer. "I'm uh, glad that you guys are, y'know, okay and all."

"Thank you, Yamcha," Bulma said cheerily.

"Uhm," Vegeta grunted, and went back to eating.

"Er, ahem, Vegeta, there's... ah, something you might want to know about- about Dorothy Per-"

He jumped back as a ki bolt made a foot-deep crater less than an inch from his feet. Vegeta had his hand out and the first two fingers were glowing. "If you say that bitch's name again, I'll burn off your tongue."

"We're on our honeymoon, Yamcha! Why are you bring her up at a time like this!" Bulma yelled at him in frustration. "I thought you were smarter than that!"

This wasn't the place to ask the question that had nagged away at Yamcha ever since he had seen the photo tucked away in the night table of Dorothy Pereaux's bedroom. That little three-year old girl... those black eyes...

... that dramatic widow's peak.

Veronica Pereaux, the actress's daughter. Yamcha had asked who her father was and had gotten an offhanded remark of; "It was a one night stand. I didn't bother to catch his name." Not a very satisfying answer and it was all that he could get out of the woman until they had broken up two days later. After that, she had changed her number and blocked any attempts for him to reach her, not that he tried very hard. The tabloids, and critics, and the few people who could still stand to work with her had been right all along: She was a bitch.

But she was also a mother, and that little tidbit gnawed away at Yamcha. As much as he wanted to bring the subject up here and now, he had to wonder; What would be the point? All that it would accomplish would be to generate anger, disbelief, and eventually curiosity. He knew Bulma well enough to know that she wouldn't let things simply lie still; she had to poke it with a stick. And Dorothy Pereaux was not a woman who took such things lying down. It would create a firestorm that would span the papers and electronic media until there would be only one outcome: The relationship between Vegeta and Bulma would fracture, and the Earth would lose the only leash on a homicidal force that was capable of keeping that rage in check.

Maybe he wasn't giving them enough credit. It was possible that they could work through something this scandalous, if it was as Yamcha suspected. Hell, people did it every day. But he didn't want to be the person responsible for putting those forces into motion. He had already done enough damage to the pair with his meddling in the past. Dorothy's story was believable and she was content to live a reclusive life exclusively for the very rich, shielding her daughter from the media. It could be years before the questions would roll around, questioning the girl's paternity. If ever at all. Yamcha resolved that it was not going to be him that would start that ball rolling.

"Yamcha!" Bulma snapped at him as continued with his internal debate. He didn't want to see her hurt, now or ever, but he knew that he had to back away as much as that decision bothered him. She was in love with Vegeta now, and their time as lovers was over. He had to ensure that they at least remained good friends.

"Whoops! Sorry about that," he ended up saying, scratching at the back of his head and smiling. It was a habit that he had picked up from his days hanging around with Gokou and, at the sight, Bulma immediately relented. "I just don't know what I was thinking-"

The familiar gesture had the opposite effect on Vegeta who didn't need any reminder of his deceased archrival. He threw the half-eaten fruit away and marched over to the younger fighter, poking him directly on the chest. "All three of us know that you don't have the capacity to think. She's told you the situation. Why don't you leave and go do your usual half-assed rendition of trying to save the planet?"

"What're you trying to say?"

"Yamcha..." Bulma cautioned.

"Fuck off!" Vegeta snarled. "Is that clear enough for you!"

"Wow, Vegeta. Being a married man has really mellowed you-" he leapt backward in an agile flip as the Saiyan suddenly swung at him. "I'm just kidding!" he teased as he took to the air. "I'll see you guys later. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon!"

"We will!" Bulma said, waving enthusiastically.

"Make sure you rub some if that worm spit on your skin!" Vegeta hollered after him. "It'll protect you from the cold-"

Bulma grabbed onto his arm and shook it. "Vegeta!"

"What? It'd serve the smart-ass right!"

"I swear the two of you are going to drive me insane," she fretted as she collected the scattered remains of their clothing from around the brush. "You should know by now that you've got nothing to be jealous about where he's concerned."

"I'm not jealous. I just hate him. I hate all of them. It's as simple as that."

He said those words in a casual enough tone of voice, but when he met her probing stare, his eyes had shadowed over. In that moment, Bulma knew that the playful, exuberant character she had shared the pool with earlier was gone. It was the presence of the Z Fighters that had done it and, not for the first time, she silently cursed their poor timing. He immediately adopted the callous soldier visage whenever he felt remotely threatened and he was wearing it now like a suit of armor. Her eyes softened at the sight. Their honeymoon was over in more ways than one...

"Well, we don't have any other clothes and we lost all of our money and identifications. Do you want to cut the honeymoon short and summon Shenron? We only had two days left anyway."

He nodded once. "Sounds like a plan."

"Do you want to do it here?"

"No. We have to go to Dende's Lookout. The sprout is the only one who can speak the summoning words."

She could have kicked herself. "That's right! These are different than the Dragonballs I used to chase after when I was a kid. Back then, anyone who found all seven could make a wish. Dende created these after Piccolo absorbed Kami. Shenron is now a Namek Dragon-"

"You do realize that you're not telling me anything that I don't already know. I was there, remember?" he reminded her, his eyelids half-closed in boredom.

"So was I," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. Such displays of immaturity always broke up a fight because he always did exactly what he was doing now; Rolling his eyes at her and shaking his head. "I also remember how you were showing off in front of me when you battled Zarbon."

He whirled on her, astonished. "I was NOT showing off!"

"-and how you later told Gohan that you thought I was gorgeous."

His eyes bulged and a dramatic flush rose from his collarbones and all the way up into his hairline. He opened his mouth, sputtered on a word, and snapped it closed again. Bulma danced in and kissed one crimson cheek and flounced off again, singing over and over; "You said I was gorgeous, You said I was-"

"!ENOUGH!" he thundered. From a nearby tree, a flock of brilliant blue parrots took to the wing and flew off, squawking in agitation.

"Not until you admit it!" she shot back. "Were you showing off or weren't you?"

His lips were a bloodless straight line as he grappled with his anger. Hesitating, he took the time to evaluate that past battle in his mind. Yes, there it was as plain as day: Covert glances in her direction, the odd sly innuendo. Had he really thought she hadn't noticed? He offered her a distracted shrug and said aloofly, "Perhaps I was prolonging the battle a bit-"

She raised a triumphant fist to the air. "I knew it!"

"Only because I didn't want to finish the prick so soon. I wanted him to suffer."

"Yeah, right. I saw how you were looking at me and leering. You were showing off and having the time of your life."

"Did you like it?"

The question was completely unexpected. "Did I..."

"It's a simple question," he said, walking purposely towards her. She had been getting far too much enjoyment at his expense and now it was time to turn the tables. "I beat a man to death directly in front of you. Did you like what you saw?"

"Well, I-I didn't like it, but Zarbon was evil-"

"If I recall correctly, you were initially cheering him on to kill me. Or have you conveniently forgotten that little tidbit?" It was gratifying to finally see some hint of a blush reach her fair cheeks instead of the other way around. "You had the hots for that green pretty-boy, am I right? At least until he revealed his true form. You weren't so horny for him after that little revelation, were you?"

Unable to meet his gaze, she shook her head. Her face glowed with shame; she had been so immature back then, selfish and demanding. Yamcha had been barely dead in the ground for a month and there she had been; panting over a tall, exotic-looking man like some high school teenager on a first crush.

"So why him? Why didn't you cheer me on instead?"

"Why-? Because you-you nearly destroyed the Earth. I-I hated you!"

He didn't appear put-off by the honesty. He actually respected it. "If you had known all of the things that Zarbon had done to other planets over the decades, you would have hated him more. That was why I drew out the battle for as long as I did. To show you the real monster that he was."

"If you hadn't been there, he would have killed us," she realized in a hushed whisper.

"There was no guarantee that I wasn't going to either."

"But you didn't," she said in a stronger voice. "You took the Dragonball without harming me or Krillin. We were reminders of your first defeat on Earth. You certainly had reason to kill us, but you didn't. Now why is that, Vegeta?"

Their faces were bare inches apart. Her brilliant blue eyes drilled directly into his coal black ones and, of the two, he finally blinked first. "When I found out later that the brats had tricked me I came back to where you were and leveled that place, and it wouldn't have mattered one bit to me if you had been there or not. But during that battle with Zarbon, I saw you and-and-" he shook his head and looked away, trying desperately to come up with an answer that would satisfy her. "I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps I was disoriented from an earlier battle, or felt rushed because Frieza was on his way, maybe I was just tired-"

"You're making excuses."

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "I just know that I didn't want to kill you, that's all. I can't explain it."

Bulma was smiling. "You don't have to explain anything. I understand."

His eyes sharpened in her face again. "It isn't what you think."

"It isn't? I know what was on your mind; You thought I was gorgeous. You thought I was-" she danced away from him, laughing and singing her maddening, simple little song while he gripped his hands into fists so tight, his fingernails made bloody crescents in his palms.

"When we get back to the Capital, Gohan and I are going to have words," he snarled under his breath before following after his chanting bride.

Early in the evening, the pair made their way to Dende's Lookout where the Earth's caretaker and his manservant, Mr. Popo, awaited them.

"Piccolo told us that you might be coming soon. Welcome, welcome," the chubby black man greeted them when they landed near the palace. His manner was so accepting and benevolent that it was hard to believe that he didn't hold a grudge for the near destruction of the Lookout a year ago. It was the time when Vegeta had succumbed to amnesia as a result of Frieza's poison. He had reverted back to the days of his savage youth and had shot the Lookout to pieces just for the sheer hell of it.

Looking around now, it was as if that damage had never been inflicted. The immaculate white marble was unmarred by cracks or chips, and the palace looked as if it had been freshly rebuilt. The massive pillars and stone stairs were highly polished. The huge front bay windows reflected the rays of the setting sun in brilliant orange and gold flashes of light. Shrubs and potted trees lightly swayed in the gentle breeze.

"I like what you've done with the place," Vegeta remarked dryly and smirked when Bulma lightly slapped his shoulder.

"How was your honeymoon?" Dende asked. He was smiling easily enough but his eyes ticked back and forth between the couple, lingering longest on the Saiyan. As sweet natured as he was, the young Namek could never completely forget the carnage that Vegeta had wrought on his home planet, now dust on the solar winds. A good many of his pod-brothers and sisters had died terrible deaths at the hands of the alien standing on the dais before him. "Was it uneventful?"

"Oh, good heaven's- NO!" Bulma laughed out loud and proceeded to tell the small alien about how bad luck had certainly tailed them on this journey, starting with the traffic jam on the very day of their marriage.

"Woman!" Vegeta barked, "You can tell him about it all later. Right now, I just want to tell Shenron my two wishes. That was the purpose of this two-week ordeal, remember?"

"I don't remember you calling it an ordeal this afternoon," she purred, batting her long eyelashes at him. "Or just before we left, either," she reached up to his hair and pulled out a leaf that was stuck in the heavy mane.

"Don't say one more word," he hissed, snatching it out of her hand and stuffing it into his back pocket.

"Spoilsport."

A roll of the eyes and a headshake later, Vegeta popped the capsule containing the seven Dragonballs and stepped back to allow Dende to examine them. "These have been to many exotic locations," the little alien said in soft voice, gently caressing each magical orb. "You two have had quite an adventure together, it appears."

"You can get all that from just fondling the balls?" Bulma asked straight-faced, and flashed Vegeta a dirty look when he began snickering.

Dende innocently nodded. "It is good to see all of you again," he whispered to them. One by one, he carefully carried them out to the middle of the wide Lookout platform until he had all seven carefully arranged in order. Then he began the summoning ritual to invoke the Dragon spirit housed inside the balls. A few softly spoken words, a dramatic raise of the arms; and the darkening night sky suddenly became pitch black as the powers of the Dragonball ignited, and Shenron sprang forth from their glow.

The enormous Dragon spirit rose into the sky and took the half-snake, half-humanoid form that was indicative of its Namek parentage. It crossed its immense arms and peered down at all of them standing on the Lookout, demanding in a booming voice: "STATE YOUR TWO WISHES SO THAT I CAN RETURN TO MY SLUMBER."

"Showtime," Bulma said and gave Vegeta forceful shove from behind. "This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it? Get moving!"

Vegeta wasn't sure if it was the Dragon's undulating body reminding him of the Void Worms, or the fact that Shenron bore a vague resemblance to Zarbon's reptilian form, but either way, he had to actively force himself to join Dende's side. Bulma was watching him and he certainly didn't want to screw up in front of her.

"Shenron!" he shouted in a firm, authoritative voice. "I am Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, and I want you to grant my first wish."

"TELL ME YOUR FIRST WISH, PRINCE OF SAIYANS."

"My wish is for Ivory City and its citizens to be returned back to the condition it was in before I destroyed it."

Shenron's body glowed brighter and he released a steady, reverberating growl that was almost like a deep purr before he announced: "IT IS DONE. WHAT IS YOUR SECOND WISH?"

Vegeta opened his mouth and closed it again without saying a word. He suddenly appeared to fall into deep thought, staring intently down at the highly polished marble floor.

"Vegeta?" Dende asked in a hesitant voice. "Shenron is waiting."

"I know, sprout. Just give me a minute," the Saiyan said absently, trying to make a final decision with all of the ideas he had stored up in his mind in preparation for this very moment. At one point, he had wanted his tail back. Another time, he wondered if he shouldn't wish Nappa back, if only to dispatch the old bodyguard in a face-to-face battle instead of how he had ended their partnership. Using it to off the Pereaux bitch would just be a waste. His desire for immortality was always there, but he doubted that Bulma would go along with the idea, even if Shenron could give a two-for-one sale with the last wish. And even that still left Trunks out of the loop, didn't it?

"MY IMPATIENCE GROWS, PRINCE OF SAIYANS. STATE YOUR LAST WISH."

"Vegeta!" Dende urged.

He deliberately ignored the other alien. His mind was a maelstrom of whirling thoughts, desires, and dreams. Could Shenron bring back the Saiyans? Could he restore their home world? Damn it! There was so little he knew about Shenron's limitations! He continued trying to rationalize his internal conflict while above them all, Shenron began to thrash about with growing displeasure.

"Er, Bulma," Mr. Popo whispered over to Bulma from where they were standing near the palace, watching the display. "What is wrong with Vegeta?"

"I'm not sure," she mused, watching him carefully. "I don't think he knows what to ask for from Shenron. He doesn't really have much of an imagination."

"I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem for you," the small man chuckled.

"No, I had a wish already picked out."

"And what was that?"

She looked up into the sky with a dreamy expression on her face and sighed, "I would wish for..."

"YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED."

"Huh?" Vegeta snapped his head up to look at Shenron in shock. "What did you say? I didn't make my second wish yet!"

"FAREWELL."

"!HEY!" He recoiled as the light flashed and Shenron disappeared. In the center of his being, the seven Dragonballs lingered in the air for several seconds before arcing off like comets across the sky, heading off to new exotic destinations. The pitch-black sky returned to its deepening azure, with the first of the early evening stars beginning to peer through.

Vegeta rounded on Dende and shouted in his face, "What the hell was that all about? I didn't get my second wish!"

The little Namek quickly backpedaled away from the furious Saiyan. "I-I'm sorry, Vegeta, but Shenron wouldn't have left unless someone had made one while he was here."

"Well, it sure wasn't me and it wasn't you, so who-" he looked around and glared over at the pair standing in front of the palace. Mr. Popo's face was dark and unreadable, the perfect poker face, but Bulma had her hand pressed to her lips and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Vegeta ground out from between clenched teeth.

"... oh crap..." Bulma squeaked out.

Epilogue: The honeymoon comes to an end and Bulma's wish is revealed ...