Everything Went Wrong

Chapter 20

Bulma's heart was pounding. It sounded like a tribal drum in her ears, thumping in time with each bleep the scouter made. She couldn't find her voice to speak, though she didn't need it at the moment, and couldn't find her legs to walk, though she hadn't anywhere to go. She felt paralyzed in the moment, awe struck with an exquisite mixture of fear and exhilaration. Her heart was caught in her throat, and she knew not what to do but stand there looking pitifully weak and staring into the sky for any signs of Vegeta.

At that moment a small, almost indiscernible speck appeared in the sky. Her heart hammered faster at the implication. This was the moment. This was when she could possibly be taking her last breath. Yet, her life did not flash before her eyes as it once had. She did not feel the sickening slug of dread and terror in her skin, or the sense of foreboding she once felt. In its place wormed a devil of a sensation; a feeling quite similar to excitement and craving. Bulma was overcome with a sudden burst of lust. Instead of remembering the dangerous monster in the Saiyan, she remembered his sculpted body and firm lips. Her mind painfully replayed the hot and wet kiss she had more than willingly provided the dangerous Saiyan. She would have lied if she said she had not been affected by his presence. Bulma had always had a problem with lusting after the bad men, and Vegeta was no different. He was as dangerous as they could get. He was fire; you were drawn to it, and get burned when you venture too close.

The anxiousness of this meaning, the plain and simple idea that he could kill her instantly, that he would without question do it, made her fear grow, and with that, her heat. He was capable of doing extraordinary things, for good and for evil, and the possibilities made her warm and wet all over. Lust was a powerful thing, and one tool Bulma was very often a victim of. He could break her bones and smile about it, he could blast an entire planet with nothing more than a raise of his hand and by god, it excited her.

It excited her not because he was doing evil, it was simply the fact that he could. Plain and simple. His strength excited her. His danger aroused her. Her Scouter began to beep incessantly as the small speck that was Vegeta became closer. She could now identify his body shape. She could easily spot his head and his broad shoulders, his thick legs and even the silhouette of his wild hair.

In one solitary breath he touched down before her. Bulma held the air in her lungs in that instant, fear and anxiousness bubbling inside of her, choking her. He stared at her, not uttering a word. His powerful gaze locked on her, nailing her in an instant, like an insect on a pin. He did not blink, and his eyes cast a look of such utter fierceness, she couldn't look away. His gaze commanded her without words, and it terrified her. It terrified her so bad, she yearned for it. Her legs shook as she stood and she clamped them tightly together, repressing a gnarling moan from escaping her as she found wetness between her thighs.

How had it come to this? She had avoided thoughts of him since she had left, yet the moment he merely looks at her, she suddenly turned to whimpers. His stare was so commanding of her, it was so powerful and impenetrable, she felt any longer and she would surely collapse onto the ground in a pitiful pile of drooping flesh and brittle bones. His body was tightly coiled like a spring, and she could look at all of his well toned muscles and know they were all tense, as if ready to spring; spring on her, at her, in her.

That last thought was only a last dying dream of hers. She knew that look was only of unbridled hate; she had tricked him and stolen from him the Dragonballs. He was after her blood.

Yet he did not speak. They just stood there, staring at each other with a tight, suffocating intensity. Bulma wanted to be swallowed up into the ground. She would have done anything to escape right now, yet couldn't bring herself to even twitch a finger, she didn't want to. Didn't want to.

Until finally Bulma, shaking and terrified, broke the silence with a shaky irresolute voice, "The Dragonballs, I know how to get them from Freeza."

His body shifted and tensed more, if it were possible. He regarded her with a stiff, hateful leer that caused her to shiver in fear.

"You expect me to trust you, witch?" His voice was still deep and gravely, and because of the stark and sharp thrust of anger behind his words, they were deeper and came out harsh and biting. Her body continued to tremble. His voice hadn't changed since she last saw him, and she was loathing admitting it still affected her so. "You are a foolish species; having tricked me and then purposely calling me out here, knowing that I can kill you, that I will. Tell me something, do you have a death wish?" His words were venom. Acidic and deadly, filled with such utter hatred and anger that it felt like a physical blow.

Still, she found her voice to speak, "We need your help."

Vegeta scoffed, his lip curled and he glared at her up and down with disgust. In the next minute he was standing in front of her, his powerful compact form nearly burning her with his proximity. His hand, gloved in a dirty white alien fabric, found purchase once again around her neck. In one fleeting thought, she noticed how perfectly it fit there.

"Vile wretch," He hissed. Bulma could feel his hot breath against her face. "You are not my ally. Learn this. You never were. You stole something very important from me and now I am getting them back. I will never help you or your disgusting kind."

His words brought forth moisture in her eyes and they clouded her vision, but no tears dared to fall. She could just make out the heart shape of his face and the outline of his unruly mane. The pressure on her neck was increasing and she knew soon she would die. This was her only chance.

"Dragonballs…" She barely croaked, using her newly gained knowledge of the Nameks. "They grant three wishes, we can split them. You can have your wish… I can lead you to them…"

"And you expect me to believe you after what you have done?" Vegeta's voice was like a razor against her flesh, easily cutting through and making her bleed.

Bulma tried to keep her voice from breaking. "I had no choice. You would have done the same in my position. I did what I had to in order to survive. I…I saw Freeza, I know what kind of monster he is…we cannot defeat him on our own. We need your help."

These must have been the magic words because his grip slackened only slightly, unconsciously probably. He burned her with his eyes. Mentioning Freeza didn't seem like such a good idea.

"Pitiful," He uttered, growling. "Such a pitiful mindset you earthlings have. I have no need for your aid other than to retrieve the Dragonballs for me. You then become disposable."

"Then you agree… you cannot kill me now."

Vegeta's jaw tightened as he realized the truth of her words. To kill her now means to lose the Dragonballs.

"Not now, no. But I shall, don't forget this."

"Then I have only one favor to ask in return," Bulma pleaded.

"You are in no position to be bargaining, woman," Vegeta growled.

"You will not take vengeance against Earth," Bulma ignored his threat and continued, "My planet shall be spared from your wrath for as long as you live. Promise me this by your honor and my life is yours. Without my help you cannot defeat Freeza. You know this, and without your help we are doomed as well. I promise to give you the Dragonballs and help you defeat Freeza."

Vegeta was silent for a while after that, looking at her contemplatively. She knew he didn't trust her and didn't blame him, yet he had no other options. She was the only one (to his knowledge) who knew the locations of the Dragonballs. He was nowhere near strong enough to defeat Freeza and Vegeta was aware of this. If he didn't agree to her now he would forfeit his life. She was forfeiting the lives of so many others on this one solitary request as well, for if he refused, she would not help him, he would kill her, and all would be lost.

Vegeta was an arrogant person and he would not give up on his dream so easily. She knew his own stubborn will to destroy Freeza would be enough to force him to agree. He was aware he was being forced into this agreement and saw the anger in his eyes because of it. He regarded her icily and leaned in forward, tightening the hold on her neck measurably.

"And what if I were to say that I want something more than just the Dragonballs, hm?" That smirk reappeared on his face and Bulma felt her insides shiver once again. Her heart dropped and then rose into her throat before fitting into the groove of her breasts. Heat. Scorching heat.

He seemed to have noticed her sudden temperature change and the flush of her face and his smirk grew into a dangerous grin.

"I…I said…my life would be yours," As she uttered it, a breath above a whisper, she silently apologized to all of her friends. She knew what was being asked of her.

She felt the sudden heat on her hip as one of his palms came to rest there. His hand was heavy and warm and sent ripples of heat through her. In one moment she was caught marveling at the amount of heat his body gave off and in the next she found herself forcefully shoved against his body, hard.

Bulma made a gasping noise as her breath left her from the sudden dramatic heave. His mouth came crashing down on hers with such brutal intensity she knew her lips would bruise. His hand still clamped around her neck in a possessive manner, forcing her into the kiss in case she tried to break free.

But she didn't. Bulma fell into the kiss with no resolve or shame. Her hands fisted his thick hard armored plate with no hesitance or uncertainty. Part of her mind yearned for this, loved the fact that he was forcing this upon her. This way, she wouldn't feel guilty about it, for she couldn't have stopped him if she tried. Instead she enjoyed the guilty pleasure she received from his violating tongue. She moaned when his hands gripped her hips, thighs, and breasts, and she pushed into his body as he pulled her and grinded her against his pelvis.

She was intoxicated again by his possessiveness. His rough touches and sharp teeth made her soon forget where she was and what she was doing, she only knew the then and now, and right now Bulma felt nothing but blinding hot passion and urgency to… well…

Fuck. Bulma wanted it; she wanted it like never before. For a long time Bulma had yearned love, she had wanted to make love to a man, she wanted to cuddle and caress, she wanted sensuality and tenderness, gentle kisses and sweet nothings. But with Vegeta there was only a driving animalistic need to fuck. Wild and heated, hard and fast. This kind of feeling electrified her and made her body come alive. She felt herself through the sleek material of her space suit. Wet. Needing.

Bulma had never felt so dirty in her life. It was enthralling, amazing. She wanted to memorize this feeling for the rest of her life, to relive it, and replay it again and again. This urgency, this, building inside of her was getting painful. She had never wanted something so bad in her life. And god, he was hardly touching her. Their clothing was still on. Bulma had never felt like this with Yamcha before. He was sweet and innocent, his touches gentle, yet timid.

Vegeta was rough and demanding. He was powerful and forced her to feel nothing but the pure carnal urge to ravage him. She wanted him to ravage her until she was raw, until her voice was cracked and sore from screaming, her flesh bruised and scratched, and until the ground split under them and swallowed them whole.

And then it was all gone. Bulma stared for a minute, unaware that she could see even though her eyes were open. When she finally took in her surroundings, she was aware of Vegeta before her, smirking dangerously at her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kick him and holler and spit at him for stopping. He was affected by her. She could feel it, even though he refused to attack her again. He was hard and long against her and she craved him. She was practically screaming for him to take her and he just stood there grinning, and that's when it finally occurred to her.

He had played her. Bulma, with all of her infinite intelligence, had just been played like a finely tuned violin. All at once, her lust turned to rage and she began kicking and hissing. She screamed and beat on his chest, violent and angry at just being made a joke out of.

He had known all along. Vegeta had known her feelings. He had felt her lust for him and strung her along. He wanted to see her bow to him. And she did, she surrendered to him without as much as a fight. She hated it. She hated him. She hated him. She hated him!

He easily stopped her assault by grabbing her wrists in both of his mighty hands. "Pitiful Earthling," He crooned out with a sickening mock of a tender voice, "Is there no bone in your back? Is there no shame you won't take? How easily you give in to your adversary. Do you offer your body so willingly to all your enemies? Tell me, do you always grow so hot at the idea of fucking the ones who killed your friends, or am I just the lucky one?"

His hurtful words were like a dagger into her heart. She screamed and cried out, face growing red in her fury. No tears came, only a pent up anger and hate and stress that had built up since the trip had begun. Bulma tried fruitlessly to get out of his touch, the touch moments ago she had so willingly let scorch her body. It now made her sick. She wanted to run, run away and never return.

"Now listen to me," Vegeta's voice lost all hints of humor now. "You will bring to me the remaining Dragonballs and I will consider your silly little request."

Bulma's struggling came to a complete stop at his words, half not believing he had agreed to them. "You will?" She asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

Vegeta snorted, "Of course. What real purpose would I have with your little rock of a planet anyway? Once I gain the power I need, you humans will be of no consequence to me."

Bulma bit her lip and nodded her head obediently. She didn't need to upset him any further. The world was at stake, and not for the first time this trip began, she bit back her tongue and swallowed her pride. This was it. She felt his warm hands on her, only then realizing they were holding her in a most unprofessional manner. He gave her backside a hard squeeze before pushing her away from him. Bulma landed with a cry on the dirt, glaring up at the Saiyan who was already with his back to her, approaching the Dragonball. He leaned over and picked it up, thumbing the alien glass affectionately.

"You had said you knew how to get the other Dragonballs? The ones Freeza has?" He asked, never taking his eyes off the reflections the Dragonball offered him.

Bulma huffed angrily and sat up, dusting off her backside. The dark material of her space suit soaked up the dust and left a nice notable powder mark.

"Yes I can. That Dragonball is one of Freeza's."

Bulma took some satisfaction in seeing Vegeta bristle at the comment. His sharp eyes turned to glare at her.

"You managed to steal a ball from right under Freeza's nose?" Vegeta replied skeptically.

Bulma would usually take this opportunity to gloat about how great she was, but oddly found no need to do that. The conversation just left a bad taste in her mouth.

Instead, she simply answered with, "Yes, I have. He underestimated me and I infiltrated him. I made it out alive, and mostly unscathed with one. I didn't have time or the man power to get the rest."

Vegeta's eyes were roving over her again, sizing her up, no doubt trying to figure out how someone so pathetically weak in comparison was able to commit such a feat. He shouldn't have been so surprised; after all, she had done the same thing to him.

"You are just so full of surprises, aren't you, little one?"

The endearment did not go unnoticed and Bulma blanched, not expecting his remark. Caught off guard she lost her train of thought and stared stupidly at him. He gave no further clarification and he once again shifted into that cold as stone expression.

"Take me to the remaining Dragonballs, now." His voice was stern and left no room for argument, not that Bulma would have anyway. She was still glad she had survived. She knew he would have to consent with her. Half of the confrontation to guarantee her survival was bargaining, the other half was seduction, a game she was very well informed in. That was her reason for removing the armor. It was terribly unflattering, but the skin tight suit underneath was an entirely different story.

"And by the way," She unexpectedly heard his voice, "Put that armor back on. You are already pitifully weak, and while I doubt you'd survive anyhow if you were to actually fight, at least the armor will provide some capacity to keep you somewhat intact."

Bulma glanced fleetingly at Vegeta who stood with his back facing her and the Dragonball protectively under his right arm. She was almost timid with the idea of turning her back to him as she dressed in her armor, the paranoid side of her afraid that getting him out of her sight would be enough to make him turn on her and kill her when her back was turned. He didn't however. When Bulma turned back around, wearing the atrocious battle armor, he was still standing there, staring away from her like an unflinching stone. Bulma gulped dryly and approached.

He turned abruptly without making a sound, somehow knowing that she was approaching, and grabbed her waist, pulling her to his side and glaring into her eyes menacingly. "You better not trick me again, girl, or I won't be so inclined to spare your life again or your planet's."

The threat she knew was not idle. Bulma nodded her head and clicked on the Dragon radar she programmed into her scouter. Kuririn and Gohan had the Dragonballs. She could only imagine their surprise when they approached them. They would have no choice but to concede. Biting her lip Bulma instructed him in the direction he needed to go and he blasted off violently. Bulma felt her blood rush to her feet as the queasiness sunk in. She laid her head against Vegeta's shoulder to try and bide the sick feeling and felt him stiffen slightly. She sighed and nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his scent, completely unconsciously. He smelt like sweat and dirt and blood. It wasn't pleasant and made her feel worse, but she made no comment. Instead she closed her eyes and tried to find some peace. She would need it for what was to come.

When they finally touched down the first thing Bulma noticed was the silence. She knew Kuririn and Gohan could sense energy, so, upon feeling Vegeta's power approaching did they hide, or were they not even there? Her scouter's built in Dragon Radar beeped incessantly indicating that even if her friends weren't present, the Dragonballs still were.

"Gohan, Kuririn!" Bulma called out. She hoped that upon hearing her voice, they would become conscious of her place and come out.

"They aren't here," Came the definitive grunt from Vegeta.

Bulma turned in surprise and looked over at the Saiyan, who stood straight, glaring about the terrain like he wanted to be anywhere but. She forgot that he could sense energy. He must have noticed her eyes on him, for in an instant his head snapped and looked at her, those hard eyes narrowing on her. "Where are the Dragonballs?"

"Oh, um," Looking at her calculations on the tinted glass, she walked over to a large gathering of rubble. Bulma's eye twitched in irritation as she easily spotted the bright yellow sack, hidden horribly under the rocks. It was so obvious anyone could have spotted it a mile away. What were her friends thinking?

"Kuririn…Gohan…you both are completely brain dead," Her blue eyes rolled skyward as she huffed the bag from the wreckage. She dragged the bag over to the less than helpful Saiyan and dropped it by his feet.

"There," Bulma huffed and wiped her forehead. The bag was heavy and Vegeta didn't seem all that inclined to help.

"Open it," Vegeta grunted and Bulma felt a shot of anger touch her.

"What, you still think I'm tricking you? You think I booby trapped this or something?" Vegeta just gave her an aggravated look and Bulma sighed and went about untying the bag. "Fine, but you can't just boss me around like that…"

As she gave one final tug the bag gave her purchase. The warm rays of the Namekian suns shined down and danced across the surfaces of bright orange stone. Carefully tucked away in the bag the Dragonballs nestled themselves quietly just as she promised.

"See? What did I tell you? No more tricks."

There came a look on Vegeta's face resembled a grin. The side of his mouth quirked in a smirk, but his eyes told the story of unimaginable delight. Placing the ball in his hand into the bag with the others, Vegeta opened his mouth to speak, but at the same instant froze and snapped his head violently to the side and her scouter began to spastically sing.

"What's…What's going on?" Bulma asked, not enjoying what her scouter was presenting her with. In a parade of fearsome numbers and beeps, Bulma's redesigned scouter spoke of promises of violence and destruction miles from their location.

"It's the Ginyu Force," Vegeta snarled, his fist clenching, but all of a sudden relaxing and a positively mischievous look cavorted his face as he turned to recognize her. "And your little friends…"

All color drained from her face as the eerie words and their definite intention spread over her. There was no way that they could survive in a fight against the Ginyu Force; Bulma knew that for a fact. Compared to the elite group, her friends would be flattened in minutes. She had seen their power first hand, watched as they effortlessly tossed Vegeta around like a cat playing with an injured mouse. She saw it again whilst in the hands of Freeza. The bitter memory caused her to chill and the fear for her friends to heighten in panic.

"We've got to help them," Bulma insisted, staring at Vegeta pleadingly. "You've got to help them, please!"

Vegeta snorted, "Why should I?"

"Because they'll die!" Bulma shouted. The earnest in her words and vehemence in her voice made him look over at her with a glare.

"And why should I care exactly?" Vegeta stubbornly argued. She watched as his teeth clenched together. "Maybe I should just let them die and spare me the trouble of killing them later."

Something snapped in Bulma at the cavalier connotations of his words. Her friends were dying and all she knew was that this man, the one who she had to place her trust in, was going to let them die. In anger she banged on his chest plate, not surprised that he didn't even budge. "You cold-hearted bastard! You said you would help us!"

Vegeta quelled her assault by easily snatching her tiny fists. His lips thinned into a grim line that told her his patience was running thin. His fists tightened on her wrists, and Bulma bit her lip from the pain. "The extent of my help doesn't involve babysitting and getting you all out of all the contrite situations you crawl into. They were stupid enough to let the Ginyu track them, let them pay the penalty for it."

His graveled voice left a bad note in the air and Bulma struggled against his hold. "No!"

"Yes," Vegeta countered, pulling her up against his body. She fit uncomfortably against his body, both of their armors clashing and bumping into odd angles. "You have located the Dragonballs for me. What happens to them is of no consequence to me."

Bulma's struggling became more violent. "You selfish, prick! Let me go, I don't want your help anymore, I can do it myself!" Her face grew red with anger as she observed him glaring at her with an amused, evil look. With their faces so close together Bulma was in range to kiss him. For once, his close proximity didn't cause any sort of fiery wanting desires in her blood. Her friend's deaths were in hand and nothing but rage fueled her now. Taking any choices she could, Bulma nestled her face in Vegeta's neck and found his flesh between her teeth. Bulma bit down with all her might and grinded. Instead of feeling him tense and howl in pain, Vegeta snorted in laughter. Effortlessly Vegeta pulled her off of his neck and clamped onto her shoulders painfully.

He stared into her face with a mirthful expression. "Oh, like to play rough, do we?" He sneered. One of his gloved hands released her shoulder to wipe against her chin, wiping away his blood. He brought his thumb to his mouth and exaggeratedly began licking it off. "I can play rough too."

"Fuck you," Bulma snarled.

"I just might," Came his gruff chuckle. It passed through her and Bulma felt herself shiver. How did things escalate to such a point? When did Vegeta's threats suddenly turn into erotic suggestions? When did she realize she enjoyed them?

"But I have business to attend to first. I can't have Ginyu getting in my way after all. He's one factor that I need eliminated."

Ocean blue eyes widened. "You mean, you'll help them?"

"Absolutely not," Vegeta denied, sounding insulted. "I told you, their fates are of no importance to me. However, I can't have Ginyu and his bum chums alive and getting in my way. From our last battle, I have gotten stronger. I can easily take him out now."

If Bulma knew anything, she knew an opportunity when there was one. His offer was better than nothing, and at least with Vegeta there, there was a larger possibility that her friend's would survive, and even of Vegeta killing the remaining Ginyu Force members. Her heart gave a sudden pang at the sudden thought of the red headed giant. The large buffoon had saved her life and she really didn't want to see him dead, but knew Vegeta would never show him mercy.

The Saiyan gave a grunt and pushed Bulma off of him like she was a most willing whore who threw herself at him. "Put the Dragonballs back where you found them. We will return to them shortly."

Bulma grumbled but did as she was told, though hid the bag in a much more concealing way, if you ask her. She said nothing as Vegeta snatched her up and blew away into the sky. Her full focus was on her friends, hoping that they would make it in time. She knew he was only bringing her along so that she didn't run off with the Dragonballs, and not to reunite her with her friends. And where was Goku? Because of the lack of night, she wasn't sure how much time had passed. When was her trusted friend going to show up? They needed his help. They needed all the help they could get and the more time that passed, the less likely they had for victory.