Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from Dragon Ball Z.

A/N: This chapter orginally starts with a short sex scene, picking up where the last chapter left off. It isn't necessarily important to the story line, but it does have a tiny clue to what's going on with Bulma. The unedited version is on Media Miner. The links to all of my work, including those on Media Miner are on my bio page. I've tested the links and they do work. Feel free to navagate there if you want to read the complete chapter. Otherwise, happy reading to you all!

Free My Soul

Chapter Five

Lyedra moved silently through the darkened corridors of Cooler's ship. She was still stewing over the sudden appearance of the beautiful foreigner, but she didn't allow it to distract her from her currant mission. She took satisfaction in the knowledge the woman would be locked away for the entire evening. Perhaps if she felt a sliver of mercy at daybreak, Lyedra would set her free.

Lyedra swept through the halls, her bare feet soundless on the metal floor. She made her way to the bowels of the ship, pausing at a crossway to lick the air with her delicate pink tongue before abruptly turning left.

Rushing feet clattered behind her, and she pressed her back against the steel wall. In the narrow corridor there was nowhere to hide. Lyedra breathed deep in through her mouth, exhaling slowly through her nose. As the air left her body so did her color. It faded from her face, then her skin and hair until she was as translucent as the purest water from a mountain spring. Slowly silver crept into her hair, and flushed her skin until there was no shadow between her and the metal wall she was pressed against.

A harried messenger rushed by her, his purple skin flushed fuchsia. Quick and silent she pulled away from the wall, following on the messenger's heels. So close was she to him that when he entered the last room at the end of the hall, she slipped in before the automatic door could slide shut, and lock her out.

She tucked herself away into a corner. She was too far away to hear what the messenger whispered into Cooler's ear, but there was no way she could miss the tiny Namekian boy dressed in the white disciple robes of the powerful and wise Guru, the leader of the Nameks.

The boy was crying thick blue tears and bleeding green blood from his mouth. When he opened his mouth, more green blood spilled out, along with all the secrets his master ever shared with him.

8888

"I miss strawberries." Bulma traced wistful patterns on Vegeta's naked chest as she spoke.

"What?" His chest expanded, and Bulma rose with it. He had one hand propped beneath his head as he stared up at the bare ceiling. His other hand was tangled in Bulma short cropped hair, as he absently massaged the base of her skull.

"They are a type of fruit."

"Oh."

"Sex like that is deserving of strawberries and champagne." She moaned a little, deep in her throat.

They were naked now, legs tangled up in the sheets of the bed, but minutes earlier, she had been pinned to the wall, her toes inches off the ground as Vegeta held her spread eagle by his ki alone to feast on her as he desired. It was the kind of sex that even fantasy couldn't be compared too. As they explored every inch of each other, reacquainted themselves to their pleasure spots, but Bulma couldn't get the endless mantra out of her head, her voice chanting how much she loved him. She almost blurted it out a couple of times, but only emotional self preservation kept her silent.

"Sounds enjoyable."

Vegeta was watching her now, his eyes tracing over her features as if trying to memorize them. The lines around his firm mouth had disappeared and the coldness in his eyes was replaced with blanked fire. It was an opportunity that Bulma couldn't pass up.

"Very. Help me wish back my world and I'll show you."

Disappointment flickered across Vegeta's face, and Bulma felt a stab of pain through her chest. Abruptly he reared up, spilling her off of him as he stood up beside the bed. The black comforter tangled around his leg as he tried to walk away. Bulma grabbed it to keep it from going and leaving her exposed.

"I've already told you, what you ask for is impossible." He swept his hand through his hair, and Bulma watched the dance of his muscles on his back. He fished around the floor for his pants, finally finding them tossed behind the chair in the corner.

"It's a magical wish. Nothing is impossible." She sat up as she spoke, tucking the blanket across her chest like armor.

"It's impetuous and irresponsible," he spat, still refusing to look at her.

Frustrated, Bulma slammed her fist soundlessly against the mattress. "How can wanting your home back be irresponsible?"

He spun to face her, towering over the foot of the bed, his voice scathing. "Have you thought what would happen to Earth once you wish it back? It's sudden reappearance would only draw the eyes of the Colds."

"Who?"

"Frieza's powerful family." He turned away, hunting for a shirt in the tangled mess of their clothes on the floor.

"Goku will protect us."

Vegeta stilled beneath her words, even the muscles of his back froze. Very slowly he turned to face her, the darkness in his eyes bleeding back.

"Is that so? Where is your precious Kakarott now?"

She dropped her eyes away, and picked at the blanket. She wouldn't admit but she was hurt beyond words at Goku defection when she needed him the most. It seemed to her that men were good at only one thing. Leaving. Eventually everyone left. But she couldn't focus on that now. She had other responsibilities.

The door chimed, and the hot weight of Vegeta's gaze left her. Unconcerned about their state of undress he keyed the panel. The door slid open fully revealing the room. Lyedra stood on the other side, her pale skin flushed a becoming shade of pink, her tank top and ass-hugging shorts were barely decent.

"Milord," she started in a rush before catching sight of Bulma lounging decadently in Vegeta's bed.

Green eyes collided with blue. The curve of Bulma's perfect lips stretched into a Cheshire smile as she stroked her hand against the sheets. Amused, she watched fury grow in the other woman until it pouring out her brackish waves.

"This better be important," Vegeta barked, unmindful of the women's silent war or perhaps just uncaring.

Lyedra's eyes snapped back to her commander, before trailing down his naked chest and stopping at his half-done pants. She looked back up at him, her face hardening into a mask of intense disgust.

"It's nothing that can't wait. I didn't realize you were engaged."

"What of it?"

"Nothing, Milord. I will await your orders when you are ready." With that she spun on her naked heel and marched away with her head held high.

Vegeta turned away, the door sliding shut behind him.

"That woman wants me dead."

"Who, Lyedra?"

"Who else?" Bulma arched a brow at him. The anger in the room had fallen to a simmer. It could be easily reignited or it could be smoothed over into a different kind of heat entirely.

"She does nothing without my consent."

"So you say."

"I do say."

He stood over her, shirtless and authoritative. It would be so easy to coax him back into bed with her. So easy to forget her responsibilities and let him take over. Let him lead her. Care for her. Let him make the most monumental decision in her life. It wouldn't even be a bad life with him. She would be a queen. An Empress even. She would have everything she could ever want. All she had to do was say yes to a murderer. All she had to do was give up everything. Her home, her family, her friends. All she had to do was smile and draw him in.

The closed door caught her attention. Behind it were five golden balls of magic. Two balls short of salvation.

"Did she do as you said when you told her to throw the children into the fire?" Bulma swallowed as she spoke. She wanted to stare at the patch of black blanket between her thighs until it caught on fire, but she forced herself to raise her chin so she could look him in the eye.

He stared back at her, his eyes completely black.

"What are you talking about, Bulma?"

"At the village. I was there. I heard you issue the order. How many did you burn alive before they gave you what you wanted? How many children screamed until someone broke?"

Vegeta stared at her steadily, his eyes never wavering from hers.

"None."

She dropped her eyes, unable to look at him if he was lying. He leaned in, bracing one hand on the bed as he whispered into her ear, his voice snake-cold.

"But don't think I haven't killed children in the past. I have. Many times. And if I have too, I'll kill even more."

Bulma choked on the bile that was clawing at her throat. Unchecked tears were streaming down her face and falling from the point of her chin into her lap. This man may make a great ruler, an excellent warlord, but he could never be a father.

"Why? Why would you do something like that? To babies. To children."

He moved away, and she finally took a breath. He found his shirt, peeking from beneath the bed. Silently he pulled it on, not bothering to look at her.

"It's a mercy."

"A mercy?" she gasped, her wet eyes darting up to watch him.

"Yes." He turned fast, pinning her down with his cold eyes. "Look at me Bulma. Look at what I am. I grew up in Frieza's army. A child-soldier who followed every brutal order issued. Any child who survives a purge, a brush with this empire, will become what I am. Every child I kill is a soul I save."

She couldn't breathe beneath the weight of his look. She swallowed, unable to find words. His upper lip curled up over his sharp canines, slathering her with his disgust, before he spun on his heel. Without a backward glance he stalked from the room, leaving Bulma alone with her tears, and the dragon balls.