Disclaimer: All things associated with Dragon Ball Z belong solely to Akira Toriyama.

Something in the Water

Note to Self...

WHUMP!

Bulma awoke suddenly as something landed on her stomach and nearly took her breath away. With a silent groan she opened her eyes to see a golden, muscular arm pinning her to the bed and in surprise she followed it to its owner's face, finding with alarm that Vegeta of all people was in bed with her. Groggily, she blinked and tried to get her brain to function as she gaped at his softened features, devoid of the usual scowl. The room was dark... still night? No... too many stars...

Oh. They were in space. Now she could begin to remember the previous day's events as she turned back to the man beside her, but she couldn't recall ever being in bed with him. I guess he came in after I fell asleep... Bulma thought, and it occurred to her that it was oddly sweet for him to not wake her up. Her brain was beginning to work now, and she watched him sleep with mild interest, having never been close to Vegeta when his guard was down -- much less this close.

Eyes moving beneath his shut lids, Vegeta slumbered contentedly with one arm slung across her stomach and the other curled up beneath his pillow, and Bulma lifted her head to see that his legs were sprawled apart. What a bed monkey... Her eyes traced up his dark sweatpants and white tank top to his face again. Much more sweetly that she could have imagined, he rested his head against the pillow and held his mouth slightly slack, and Bulma had to stifle a giggle as she saw a little spot of drool against his cheek. At least he wasn't gross or anything -- in fact, it warmed her to see that he wasn't a regal Prince all the time, and it humanized him a bit to see him in such a relaxed state. Without his fierce frown, Vegeta lost his animalistic handsomeness but gained a natural beauty that surprised Bulma.

Vaguely wondering what time it was, she turned her head towards the side table, but couldn't see over the top of the pillow. Since moving might wake the Prince -- something she suddenly felt loath to do -- she stifled a yawn and again faced the slumbering Saiyan, all the while noticing the dryness in her throat and the heaviness of his arm pinning her to the mattress.

I wonder how out of it he is... Bulma mused as her slight movement didn't wake him. Aren't warriors supposed to be on guard at all times? With a smile creeping onto her lips and her heart beginning to pump wildly in her chest, Bulma slowly lifted her unpinned hand to hover over the top of one of his pecs, hesitated a moment, and barely... softly... gently... let her fingertips graze the skin there.

Bulma had to stifle a gasp at the feeling of his skin. It was so warm and unbelievably hard -- not giving like human skin. Smiling openly now, she let her fingers lightly glide down towards the gaping throat of his shirt and the skin between his pecs, and her heart fluttered with adrenalin. Hairless, she thought with a glance at his closed eyes. I wonder if everything is that way...

But her inappropriate thoughts were interrupted as Vegeta groaned and rolled over on top of her, his face planting next to her ear, his chest squishing hers beneath, his groin pressing into her --

"GYAHHHHH!" she screeched.

Vegeta's eyes popped open and he yelled too as he catapulted off of her and into the wall opposite the bed, his eyes darting wildly. "WHERE'S THE -- WHAT THE --" he panted, gathering himself into a battle position.

Bulma lay sprawled out against the sheets, her hair tumbling about her shoulders as she scrambled into a sitting position and pointed at him. "YOU -- YOU --" she gasped, frantically clutching her heart, "YOU -- PERVERT!"

"WHO'S THE -- WHAT?" he replied in bewilderment, sleep still nestled in his eyes as he tried to regain his bearings and calm his heart.

Blue eyes flashing up at him, Bulma cried, "What do you call THAT?" as she pointed to his groin again, which Vegeta found at full attention as he glanced down at it.

"That's not -- it's not --" he started as his face turned beet red and he glared up at her. "HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF MALES WAKING UP THIS WAY?"

"That does NOT include men rolling on TOP OF ME!" she accused as she violently tugged down at the hem of her nightie.

"Well let me guarantee you that it has NOTHING to do with your hideous visage!" he snarled in mortification as he tried to adjust himself, turning away from her and towards the wall, "It's normal for any Saiyan male to wake up this way, Woman!"

"Well -- Well --" she stammered, suddenly remembering that Yamcha woke up with the same 'joy' nearly every morning he was with her, "Well you shouldn't try to get rid of your frustration on me!" Already she could feel her outrage leaving her, swiftly followed by a kick in the ass of embarrassment. Of course she knew that that was normal for men, she just forgot it when it happened to be Vegeta on top of her... being all manly, muscle-y, and Saiyan...

"If I wanted to have a nice short rut then I would have, you fool," he hissed through clenched teeth as he turned and stomped to the bathroom.

"Oh-ho don't wait for anything!" she exclaimed dramatically, throwing her arms out as he slammed the door behind him, "It's not like you won't do it in the next few hours!"

And suddenly, Bulma felt like an iron weight had settled on her chest, and her anger was forgotten as she knelt back down on the bed. Vaguely, she could hear Vegeta yelling something profane her way, but all she could focus on was the fact that she was more or less fated to sleep with the Saiyan. How could she have forgotten? How was she going to survive if he was in such a rage?

"I said you're a filthy whore and an utter moron. Did you not hear me?" Vegeta barked as he exited the bathroom to find Bulma staring off into space and clutching the sheet to her chest.

"Goku did it," she breathed, her eyes wide as she snapped her eyes to his.

Vegeta bristled. "What?"

"Goku and Chi Chi have a kid. If they can do it, so can we, right?"

"I didn't mean you were my whore!" he snapped, bewildered by her leap in logic as he took a step back.

"Just think, Vegeta," she begged, crawling towards the edge of the bed and causing him to take another step back, "If you have no control of yourself you'll run right through me! Maybe though, maybe we can figure out a way to keep you... or maybe if we drink the water at different times..."

"Just -- cease your chatter, woman!" he cried, clamping his hands over his ears. "I have no intentions of procreating with such a vile --"

"WHOA buddy, I don't want any kids with you!" she said, aghast. "I'm just trying to figure out how to make it through the sex alive!"

Vegeta opened his mouth but fell silent, glaring icily her way. "I will not kill you," he muttered finally as he folded his arms across his chest.

Rolling her eyes and sighing, Bulma slid off of the bed and walked to her chest of drawers. "I don't think you can promise that, Vegeta," she replied as she rummaged through her clothes and selected a pair or green shorts and a loose, ivory top with ruffles climbing up the neck. "You have NO idea what the influence of that drug is like." Bulma turned around to find him taking off his shirt, and she blushed violently out of surprise. "Don't do that," she chastised as she hooded her eyes and went into the bathroom.

"Too difficult for you to keep your hands off?" Vegeta sneered as he himself took out clothes to change into.

Bulma blushed at the truth of his comment. "A little modesty isn't too much to ask!"

"Hn. It's not like you haven't seen it before," he groused as he pulled on a pair of spandex shorts and a white t-shirt.

"Not the point," she countered as she opened the bathroom door and walked past him into the hallway. Saiyan senses tingling, Vegeta followed his companion into the tiny kitchen in search of a meal and was not disappointed. "What we need," she continued as she searched through the various sets of capsules for breakfast, "Is a strategy. You know, a plan of attack. You like those sorts of things, right?" she asked dryly, glancing over her shoulder at him as he settled in one of the small chairs behind her.

With a scowl, Vegeta shifted and squirmed in his seat and found that they were not exactly made for Saiyan musculature. "As usual, I have no interest in what you're prattling about. Give me my meal."

"You SHOULD be interested, since it directly affects whether you get left out here in space or not," she snapped as she popped open two capsules of eggs and bacon. "Don't you want to avoid the whole sex-slash-killing-Bulma deal?"

Vegeta glared at her, taking note of her glimmering blue hair in the false light of the ship and the way her ivory hands darted about as she prepared his meal without the usual griping. "Very well. You may proceed."

Rolling her eyes, she continued as she cooked. "Alright. So by the end of today, you're going down, right? The way I see it, we just have to strategize. Obviously we'll want to be on opposite sides of the ship... and that gravity trick seemed to work with me, but I can't do it to you since I can barely take two Gs... Okay, so there's no keeping you at bay. Next move --" she punched the air with her spoon, and Vegeta raised an eyebrow, "Your water intake. We need to decide whether to let you indulge as much as possible or to limit the amount. What do you think?" she finally asked, turning to set her brilliant blue eyes on his, and Vegeta was surprised to find her face flushed with excitement.

The girl was an addict to problem-solving.

"I think," he said slowly, eyes sliding to the floor as he thought, "that if the average Saiyan feeding frenzy takes place, I will drink without abandon regardless."

Bulma pondered his words, but felt a twinge of happiness at his candor. "So, is everything like that to a Saiyan? You know, the intensity with which you fight being the same as that with which you eat?"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her question. "Yes."

"Then... that would be the same for everything else, too?" Bulma stared shrewdly at his blank face.

"What?"

Taking the pan off the stove, Bulma swiftly poured the food into two bowls -- one tiny, and one bucket-sized. "I mean, if Saiyans are that crazy about eating, and the same for fighting or just being an ass in general --" Vegeta grimaced "-- then you must be equally as invested in sex, if not more."

Vegeta flushed violently, and Bulma smiled into his face as she set his bowl in front of him. "No time to be shy, now," she teased as she flashed him a sparkling grin and returned to the stove, "I need to know all the juicy details about your sexual appetite."

"You are intolerably vulgar!" he snarled as his color deepened, and he snatched up the bowl to bring it to his lips.

"No, I'm simply thorough -- and mildly interested in blackmail, but that's beside the point. So when we say that you, Vegeta, are intense about sex, are we talking about intense like 'oh you and your wily ways' or are we talking 'hey that's my vagina, and I'd like to use it sometime'?"

Vegeta gagged on his eggs, and Bulma raised an eyebrow as a tilted smile grew on her cheeks. "Big, bad Saiyan man thinks I'm funny," she commented as Vegeta thumped his chest and coughed up the remaining bits. "So I'm right then?" she concluded, leaning across the table and setting her face in her hands as she smugly stared into his dark eyes.

Sending her a savage glare, he rose from the table to put some space between them. "You have seen enough of Saiyan battle to understand the Saiyan fortitude, Woman. Understand now that this is no laughing matter," he snarled as his gaze slid to the galaxy beyond the window, and Bulma narrowed her eyes at his out-of-focus view. "Saiyans do not take mates lightly; however, we do rut enough to sate our hungers until the next available time or until we take our mates. It is a dangerous ordeal, even for Saiyan women. It was widely known that our females were routinely damaged or killed in rutting, and our men often resorted to cavorting with unsuspecting aliens."

Slowly his eyes came back to meet her wide, blue oceans. "I do not know how Kakarrot has managed to mate with his earthling unscathed. Perhaps it is intentional, or perhaps more than his aggression was pummeled out of him when he crashed on your planet. All I know is that the only way to prevent damage is either through unbelievable concentration or actual mating."

Having never heard the Prince speak so long on a neutral subject, Bulma blinked stupidly as his words caught up with her brain. "So... what do you think about that in terms of, you know, now?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and peering up at him.

Mutely, he removed his bowl, threw it in the sink, and turned around to pin her to the chair with his enigmatic gaze. "There is no way for me to predict how I will react with the drug. I will..." he paused, grinding his teeth together and trying to control his swift anger, "I will not kill you, and if I find myself leaning towards that reaction... I will take matters into my own hands." With that, he snapped his chin up and turned back into the hallway.

"Hey, uh, what 'matters'?" she asked in consternation, rising from her chair.

Vegeta ignored her.

"What 'MATTERS'?" she yelled after him, but his only response was to slam the door behind him. Bulma sighed and blew a chunk of hair out of her face as she crossed her arms. Suddenly, she realized that they had never come to any sort of conclusion on a strategy. I guess we'll be flying by the seat of our pants...

"Heathen..." she muttered before she left for the control room.

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Many hours later, after rambling the circular hallway more times than she could count, after playing card games with the computer system, after tinkering with the GR, after checking all the diagnostics of the ship, and after having successfully been avoided by a certain surly Saiyan, Bulma sighed as she sat down against the glass wall of the hallway and listlessly tilted her head to stare off into the dark abyss of space. She had never been this bored in years.

"Dear self: Please do not go on any more outrageous adventures without proper preparation EVER AGAIN," she grumbled, feeling the dryness burn in her throat. "Love, self."

All she could think about was how badly she wanted some water to quench her thirst... She had only had that half-a-glass since she had been in hyper-sleep, and that dehydrated a person enough as it was.

She was doomed.

Interrupting her morose thoughts, a click from down the hall alerted her to Vegeta's movement. Bulma wondered what he was up to, but moments later she could hear him ripping through the kitchen. And guess who will have to clean that up later? she thought wryly. Sure enough, she heard a strangled cry echo through the hallways. "What's the deal?" she called without much interest.

"Why the FUCK aren't there any liquids on this ship?" he screamed before he tore through the hallway and into her bemused presence.

"Ah, perhaps because we were loaded up with the essentials. It's easier to pack them in powdered form and to just add the water..." she explained, but as soon as she took in his appearance, her voice faltered.

He looked like shit warmed over.

"...But, uh," she continued, her eyes roving over his haggard face, his pale tone beneath his tanned skin, and his increasingly-aggressive eyes, "Next time I'll remedy that. Hey, are you okay?"

"Fucking fantastic," he seethed, and he abruptly swung his entire right side to punch the air around him. "I'm in space with the most irritating person the galaxy has ever known, equipped with no water, and I can't even train -- which was the reason I got on this piece of shit in the first place!"

Though normally Bulma could rise to his bait quicker than anyone, Vegeta's drained appearance and wild eyes unnerved her more than his words. "Why don't you just sit down, and I'll go look for some food with liquids in it," she said soothingly as she stood and gestured to the glass wall, her eyes scrutinizing the way his entire body seemed tense, and how she could feel the instability of his ki emanating from him.

"Don't you think I've already done that?" he snarled with a thrust of his head towards hers. "You petty humans may not be able to smell it, but any Saiyan can taste water on his tongue a mile away!"

"Vegeta," she commanded in her best mother impersonation, "Sit." His eyes bored into hers a moment longer before he threw himself down like a child against the glass, and Bulma knelt down next to him to stare into his shifting eyes. "I want to check your vitals, okay?"

"They're fine."

"Not that it's saying anything, but increased irritability is a sign of dehydration," she murmured, trying to soothe despite her tongue-in-cheek words. "I need to know how severe it is, because I have to tell you, Vegeta, you're not looking so good."

Vegeta's surprised eyes finally met hers before she took his silence as assent and she pressed two fingers into the skin of his forearm. Both of them watched as she removed them and the skin beneath stayed flat, sluggishly rising back to its original form, and Bulma's eyes widened in distress. Without a word she lifted her gaze to his and placed her hands around his eyes. Vegeta flinched.

No woman had been allowed to touch him so intimately, and Bulma felt it in his sudden tensing. Sure, he had fucked his share of whores, but he called the shots, he took the reins, he took the lives; there was no unnecessary touching. This simple skin-to-skin contact, her obvious show of concern, struck him in a dangerous way. It suddenly reminded him that he had let her snuggle up to his side last night... He had no clue what she was doing, and her intense concentration threw him off as--

Bulma placed her thumbs under his eyes and pushed a little, making Vegeta rear back in indignation. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed as he pushed himself away from her, and Bulma made a face back at him.

"Come back over here, you weenie! I'm checking out your tear glands and your eye sockets!" she snapped, holding out her hands again to him.

"I don't see how that's necessary!" he retorted as he touched his fingers to his face defensively. Apparently that was not as intimate as I had thought...

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I'm determining the stage of your dehydration. I need to know how much longer you can hold out -- safely," she emphasized at the dirty look he shot her.

Muscled in his jaw twitching, Vegeta finally inched back over to where she sat with one eyebrow arched into the air. "Quickly," he muttered, and Bulma reached back out to his face -- perhaps even more gently that before.

As her delicate fingers probed the area around his eyes, Vegeta wondered if she was this way with all the males in her life. Protective and possessive? He thought about the weakling that she had disposed of not long ago, and his stomach clenched at the idea of their affinity for one another.

Bulma, on the other hand, was busy ignoring her own roiling insides as she evaluated her patient. "Hmm. Not much water left in your eyes," she commented as she peered into them, noticing that his irises were actually black with streaks of umber. His pupils, in fact, were quite small. "Your eyes are beginning to sink in a bit... and your temperature..." Bulma placed one of her hands on his forehead and noted that his skin -- so seemingly hot this morning -- was as cool as her hand. "Your temperature is down."

With a sigh she leaned back on her haunches, and Vegeta felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "What are you saying?" he asked impatiently.

"I'm saying I think you only have a few hours until you're in a bad, bad state, Vegeta," she replied, and then she herself looked down at her hands. Frowning, she pressed into her own skin and noticed the same reaction -- the rubbery imprint. "And you know what? I might be right there with you."

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A/N: *Wipes hand across brow* That took way too long. I got a bit stuck figuring out all the details... and taking a vacation. Please PLEASE REVIEW!!! You never know when a lemon might pop up... :)