A/N – Sorry for the wait, editing took a while. Brace yourself, it's another long one.

.Disclaimer.

--.....--

.Chapter Three.

--.....--

After a magnificently icy bath, Bulma now stood in a silk bathrobe. She took the opportunity to really take in her surroundings. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. What? Throw her in a cell and then into a royal suite? What were the Saiyans up too? She then realized that they were going to dress her up to look taken care of before the negotiations. She supposed the Saiyans would tell her Father that she was given the best care.

She rolled her eyes. One of the women brought over a white dress.

It was sleeveless and the ivory fabric pooled around her collarbone. Around the waist was a scarlet scarf that was held together with a beautiful white stone in the front. The stone was a kind Bulma had never seen before. From the gem on, the dress parted in a slit down the middle to reveal slightly darker white chiffon. It was very elegant and beautiful.

Bulma, now clean and in slightly better mood, had had enough of Saiyan help.

"I'll manage, you can leave." Bulma said curtly, the women glared. Bulma rolled her eyes as they left the room. Oh, had she offended them?

Bulma couldn't care less, already putting her attention on the dress. She slipped into it and saw that it fit snuggly on her waist and hips and then fell loosely to the ground. She realized that the scarlet scarf was not on her waist, but loosely on her hips, the jewel resting just between her legs.

Bulma scowled, "Perverted Saiyans, now everyone's eyes are going to go straight there..." For the briefest of moments, she considered getting back to her old clothes, but decided against it when she remembered just how dirty they were. She eyed a mirror and blushed, embarrassed and displease.

There was a soft knock on her door. Bulma considered staying quiet, just to annoy whoever was there.

"It's Frieza."

Bulma dove to the door like a mad women and yanked it open. The Icejin was about to knock again, his knuckles just hovering next to her face. She let him in, her eyes wide and focused only on him. His powerful presence brought the reality of the situation back to her, and she could no longer care to complain about dresses.

"I'm sorry this happened." Frieza said softly, closing the door behind him.

"I'm glad you're here." Bulma breathed, "Have you heard from my Father, anyone?" They had to be alright. She couldn't accept any other possibility.

Frieza shook his head. "My ship caught a distress signal, but by the time we arrived...it was too late."

Bulma's gasped as if all the air in her lungs had been violently pounded out by a crowbar. Too late? How could it have been too late? Yes, things were grave... Yes, she had been capture... but... Too late? Were her people enslaved? Or even annihilated? While her mind had briefly gone over the scenarios in that cell, it hadn't had actually sunk in. A sudden horrific thought crossed her mind, freezing the blood in her veins.

"Did the Saiyans destroy Tokoshimo?" Bulma asked desperately, eyes wide. Her very existence was hanging on his answer.

"No," Bulma let out a breath, relief flooding her senses as her heart began to pump again. The bastards had been known to do that. To completely obliterate the planets of their enemies.

"But everyone of importance was either killed or escaped." Frieza said with a small frown. Alarm and fear ran through her like a shock of electricity. Her heart sped up, pounding against her ribcage. It was almost as if she could feel it bruising against her bones.

Her Father, Yamcha, Marron, so many faces flooded her vision, Eighteen, Sixteen, her people. How could they all be- No!

Bulma slowly shook her head, no longer seeing Frieza in front of her. ...He had said escaped! Bulma knew Marron would have escaped! Marron was safe, she knew.

Marron would have done all she could to help and then evacuated as many people as she could. Though everyone else... Eighteen and Sixteen were Androids; they would have been able to hold their own against a Saiyan, easily. However, she could never see them abandoning Tokoshimo, running when there was still fight left in them. Sixteen... there was a slim chance, if her Father ordered it. But Eighteen...

That stupid women! Tears pushed at Bulma's eyes.

Yamcha! He would have fought, she realized with painful dismay. He was as loyal to her planet as her Generals were. But- but, the Saiyans were just so much stronger! Her breath began to come quickly as she thought of the scenarios, horrible gruesome scenes running over her vision. Crimson blood seeping into the white snow. Lifeless eyes staring into the ill fitting clear blue sky. Bulma clenched her eyes shut and nearly doubled over; the pain stabbing at her heart was nearly physical.

She couldn't think like that! She couldn't think of those possibilities, she couldn't! Bulma willed her heart to slow down, to steady her breath. But her thoughts wouldn't obey and they jumped from one love one to another. Her Father...

He would have stayed.

Bulma's chest constricted, agonizingly, as if a python had wrapped around her and squeezed out every last breath. She fell forward, her knees giving out beneath her. She didn't even register the arms that supported her.

"Bulma."

She looked up, her eyes pleading him to tell her it wasn't true, none of it was true. Her body trembled in his hands. He looked down at her in sympathy, his brow dipped and his lips pursed together. Then he spoke, his voice admonishing.

"You're stronger than this. Much stronger. You can not afford to fall. If you do, you won't get back up again." His dark eyes were clear and stern, narrowed "They think they've won, Bulma. They think that you, your family, your people, are finished. And they will be, if you fall."

Slowly, Bulma's face harden. Frieza was right. She couldn't break down now. She couldn't succumb to the grief of the unknown. She didn't have that luxury. Her Father's words echoed in her mind. She couldn't lose hope. She was her people's hope. Even now, captured, she still held their only hope.

The Saiyans hadn't won.

Bulma pulled away from his grasp. Grateful to Frieza, for all he had done. While she couldn't manage a smile, her eyes softened. He simply nodded, understanding.

"Do you have any idea, how the Saiyans managed to invade?" He went own, his voice somber and his brow slightly furrowed.

The Machines.

Bulma's chest began to fill with anger, her mind clouding with frustration. She clenched her teeth and shook her head.

"They disabled every force field, they evaded the sensors and scanners, they cut off the cameras, they blocked our weapons, they knew every weakness in every system. They were even immune against our biological weapons!" Bulma's voice rose as she went on, remembering every time the technology had failed her, every time that royal bastard smirked at her.

"How?!" She cried out in sorrowful desperation.

Frieza sighed, shaking his head, looking disturbed and confused. After a moment, he spoke again "The Back Up Systems?"

"A virus." Bulma gasped out with bitter bafflement. It had eaten away at the BU System. Decaying it and making the lines of code useless. It didn't make any sense, Bulma and Sixteen had extensively built in up with the strongest defenses, updating it once a month. It was not a daily check up like almost all the other systems... they had never expected this to ever happen. How could it? Bulma couldn't grasp it.

Her thoughts and emotions were running through her mind so quickly, it was exhausting. She swallowed at the thick lump in her throat

"I won't let anything happen to you." He said firmly.

Bulma looked at Frieza and nodded. She took a deep breath. She needed to control her emotions, stop letting them cloud her vision. She need to look at her situation the way a proper ruler should: detached. She needed to see the solid facts and reacting to them rationally. Not emotionally. She was trained in this manner, as both a future queen and a scientist.

She spoke calmly and objectively, "Why am I on Vegeta-sei?"

"King Vegeta made it clear that he wants you here." Frieza said, he didn't look too pleased about the decision. "I couldn't persuade him out of it."

Bulma's brows dipped as she rolled the information around in her mind. The only logical explanation was for her to be a hostage. Technology was the only real spoil of war the Saiyans could take from Tokoshimo. While that itself was a massively valuable commodity, it wasn't something that simply could be taken. No, it was much to complex. They would need Ningen help to put it to use.

"I will do my best to persuade the Saiyans to think rationally about what is to happen to Tokoshimo." Frieza said, his diplomacy coming back now that Bulma had gotten a hold of herself. "I don't have to remind you of the bad blood that will be dealt with." He paused for a moment "I implore you to be compliant with their demands."

Her eye's snapped over to him, clearly not happy with the advice. The look Frieza gave her showed he expected her reluctance. After all, he had known her a very long time; he knew how fiery and stubborn she could get. Especially when she was wronged.

He gave her a knowing look. It spoke volumes. He knew her never to take anything lying down, and he didn't really expect her too. "For now."

She nodded. A new fire burning in her chest, hope blazing. The Saiyans hadn't won yet. Now, more than ever, she would personally make them regret their betrayal.

--.....--

The Saiyans, and Vegeta himself, relished in the art of war. This one however, had been a long and weary one. Saiyans rarely engaged in a war that lasted longer than six months, five years was just down right unheard of.

The normal conquest of a planet was short and quick, which was the way his people like such affairs. Saiyans were not naturally a patience race and much preferred action to the diplomatic dances most nations engaged in.

The joy was in the fight, the heat of battle. Not in the war room. While Vegeta himself did enjoy fabricating strategy, he much preferred to see the successful execution. However, this war had the Saiyans stuck in the war room more often then they would have liked. It grew frustrating.

On top of that, for the first time, the Saiyans had not been looking forward to a war. Especially with the Ningens. There was no challenge in it. Vegeta even remembered the moment his Father had told the Strategos of the declaration. They simply stayed silent looking at each other with confused, skeptical looks.

His people openly laughed at the notion of going to war with Tokoshimo, the absurdity of such a thing. Surely, it was a joke. Once it had sunk in, his people were angry. What were the Ningens thinking? Did they think they had a chance?

The first battle was a gross reality check. The few men that were sent out were consequently slaughtered. Their torn limbs and disemboweled organs were left drifting in the black space.

This of course sent up a wave of bloodlust among his people. It was a great shame to be so defeated by Ningens.Strategy began, men assembled, ships built and the Saiyans began to rise to the challenge the Ningens had proposed, now fully ready to wipe their existence from the universe.

No more mercy.

But that damn technology. While the Ningens could keep repairing the machines that were destroyed, make new ones, fix flaws and glitches, the Saiyans had to replenish their resources, train new soldiers, and flaws took time to fix in organic beings. It made the war an uphill battle. However, like the saying goes, there's a big difference between losing the battles and losing the war.

Once his Saiyans had gotten those blue-prints, the antidotes, the war was won.

And now, here he was, victorious against the devious race. He enjoyed every minute of tearing apart Ningens limb from limb, watching their shocked faces as they realized their machines had failed them. Vegeta had even laughed out loud on a few occasions.

Quite frankly, if Vegeta had been one to skip around in joy, he would have. However, he certainly wasn't. Actually you'd probably never meet anybody as anti-skipping as the Saiyan Prince. But that's beside the point. What was at hand now, was the glorious victory that Vegeta found himself in. Not only did the Saiyans finally stick it to that blasted race, but he had taken what was rightfully his.

The Princess.

She had been owed to him for quite some time now, an eternity it seemed. She was his spoil of war, what he had gone out and personally hunted down. That had been a lot more exciting than he expected. Their game of cat and mouse had proved to be exhilarating in a way he hadn't thought possible.

He supposed it was because she was denied to him for so long. Not to mention he had been pleasantly surprised to see that the rumors were true. She had indeed grown to be beautiful. Breathtaking, even. So really, Vegeta was not quite murderous at the idea of taking her as a mate.

No, not at all. It was something he had been expecting for a very long time. She was, quite simply, owed to him.

However, when something was owed, that meant that the owner could deal with the possession however he pleased. Vegeta scowled. As it was, he was being forced to wed the Princess. Now. As in today.

Though, while he wasn't exactly upset with that prospect, what downright infuriated him, was that he had no say in the matter. He was being forced.

If there was one thing Vegeta hated more than anything, it was being forced. He abhorred taking orders. The only person that could actually get away with issuing a direct order to him was his Father. Even then it was always a battle of wills.

The icing on this particular cake was that Frieza had joined in on the ordering. Vegeta didn't deal with that very well. Actually, Vegeta didn't usually deal with anything involving the Icejin very well. More often than not, property was destroyed, and people died.

Frieza's reaction was particularly curious. Vegeta refused to dwell on it. More pressing matters were at hand. Vegeta was being forced to wed, much sooner than he would have liked.

He frowned. Taking a mate was not something to be taken lightly. He was aware of other similar unions in the universe that were actually taken quite frivolously. That other beings wed with each other frequently and terminated the bond just as often. Saiyans didn't. Really, they couldn't.

It was an intensely deep bond, that once established, was near impossible to break. No matter what. Being bonded to another person, so intimately... so irreversibly was not something he wanted to deal with. Not right now.

He was in his prime. He was still a prince. Now was the time to train and fight and expand his future empire. Prepare for that bond. It was not the time to actually have it.

Vegeta would take a mate when he wanted to, not when it was convenient for someone. He wanted it on his own terms. However, that wasn't the case.

While he was glad that he finally had what was owed to him, he just wanted the Princess here at his home. To ensure that he would eventually mate her. That no other man would dare come near her. It was simple really.

There was a knock at the door bringing Vegeta out of his thoughts. He glanced at the door expectantly.

"Vegeta! It's me." The voice called out cheerfully.

The Prince rolled his eyes. There was only one person in the entire universe that greeted him so casually. "Kakarrot."

The Saiyan open the door, hauling a grand wooden chest over his shoulder, a big goofy grin planted on his face. "Got your ceremonial armor." He walked over to where a full length mirror stood, placing the chest down beside it.

Vegeta went to open the chest. It held traditional golden armor for his shoulders and forearms. A set of the more modern white armor that all Saiyans wore was there as well. It had no shoulder pads and the usually pleating on the stomach was a brilliant polished gold. As he was, Vegeta was already in loose white pants.

"Are you nervous?" Kakarrot asked, his expression child-like and excited.

"This day's been long in coming." Vegeta pulled on the decorative chest armor, not bothering to look at him.

"That's not what I asked." Kakarrot leaned against the wall beside the mirror, crossing his arms.

"Shut up Kakarrot, it'll be best for your health." Vegeta dismissed, pulling on white boots, the tops trimmed with thick bands of gold. He tucked his white pants into them, making them poof out a bit.

"Oh, come on!" Vegeta threw so many threats at him, it really had no effect anymore. Rather, they usually encouraged the soft-hearted Saiyan "It's okay! I know I was."

"You're a coward." Vegeta said easily, pulling out a wide scarlet cloth and wrapping it around his waist. "You were young, too."

Kakarrot merely shrugged, that ever present grin softened. He then said, "It was right."

Vegeta didn't say anything, latching a gold belt over the cloth to keep it in place. He briefly contemplated Kakarrot's own situation. Taking a mate had changed Kakarrot, wised him up a bit. Matured him. Everyone knew he needed that.

"You think she's nervous?" Kakarrot suddenly asked, his tone curious.

Vegeta raised a brow as he reached for the gold armor that would adorn his shoulders and lock over his collarbone. It had never occurred to him-- her thoughts on the issue-- not that they particularly mattered. If she had any qualms about the ordeal, she'd have to deal with it. It's not like he was exactly happy with the suddenness of it all either.

"You think she's scared?" Kakarrot broke in again, his tone softening just the slightest.

"What's with your incessant questioning?" Vegeta shot at him. If she was displeased with the situation (not that she had any real right to be), he imagined her to be more angry than scared.

"You're getting a mate. That's what." Kakarrot said happily, then added thoughtfully, "I didn't expect it to be so sudden. What happen to plan A?"

Vegeta scowled as Kakarrot hit on the sore spot, of how un-in-control (he refused to say helpless) he was of the situation. Instead of letting Kakarrot in on that, he went on the slightly defensive. "I remember you rushing into a wedding. You were only 18."

"It was right." Kakarrot repeated easily, not bothering to elaborate.

Vegeta pulled on the gold bands that would cover his forearms. He knew that the Ningen Princess was meant to be his mate. He wasn't worried about that.

"I think you should have a bachelor party." Kakarrot's goofy grin slid into place and he looked at Vegeta with excitement.

"A what?" Vegeta asked, bafflement evident on his face.

"It's what Sabbian men do before they get married."

"You've been talking to that bald midget again, haven't you?" Vegeta accused, as if admonishing a child for playing with a mangy stray dog.

"Yeah! Kirillin says that he went to a royal one a few weeks ago, and that it was a lot of fun."

"Royal?" Vegeta's eyebrow rose, "How'd that merchant get into a royal event?"

"He's close friends with the Sabbian Prince or something. It wasn't a formal event."

"You just want an excuse for a feast." Vegeta finally said as he finished dressing. He looked over himself in the mirror, briefly eyeing the Saiyan symbol on his left breast.

Kakarrot gave him a sheepish smile. He went on, still curious, "Are you going to do any Ningen traditions?"

Vegeta give him a weird look, "No." It was Saiyan ceremony. She was becoming part of his family, not the other way around.

"What if she wants too?"

Vegeta glared at Kakarrot, annoyed at all the questions. Really, if the guy wasn't the only living Saiyan that could provide a challenging spar, Vegeta would have killed him long ago. As it was, Kakarrot asked a valid question there. "I suppose If she really wants to or something..." Vegeta murmured thoughtfully, "As long as they're reasonable."

"What, no poetry?"

Vegeta sent him a glare and Kakarrot let out a bark of a laugh. "Could you imagine?" he threw his head back at the image of Vegeta rhyming, fumbling over a piece of paper with scrawled verses.

"No." Vegeta said coldly began to head to the door. Kakarrot pushed off the wall and followed him.

"I don't think you'd be very good at it." Kakarrot baited, a sly smile on his face.

"Let's not find out." Vegeta said marching down the hall. Though his pride pushed him to say more, "For the record, any poetry I write would have her at my feet." Kakarrot threw him a rueful grin.

"In tears."

--.....--

Bulma was led down the hall, accompanied by the two Saiyan women that attended to her earlier. Frieza had left, telling her he would do everything in his power to find out the whereabouts of her Father and loved ones. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself not to think of them now. She had to focus on the matters at hand.

Before she knew it, she was in front of a massive red door decorated with gold trim. Two guards stood on either side of it, short blue cloaks hanging from the shoulder pads of their armor. When no one opened the door for her, Bulma looked around questioning.

They appeared to be waiting for something. Alright, she'd open the door. That was fine with her (though proper protocol called for them to opened the door for her, but whatever). Bulma was about to make a move for it, when something stopped her.

Faintly, very faintly, she could hear voices on the other side. She listened to the muffled sounds, but for the life of her, couldn't understand what was being said. She glanced at the four Saiyans around her and supposed they could hear perfectly. Bulma would be the first (not cheerfully, mind you) to admit that the Saiyans did have superiority when it came to a few of the senses.

"Her necklace." One of the guards remarked, motioning with a nod.

Bulma raised a brow, her hand going to her silver engagement necklace. It was now exposed at the base of her neck with the open collar of the dress.

"Take it off." One of the Saiyan women admonished. "Quickly."

Bulma glowered, completely appalled at the command. She wouldn't take off her engagement necklace! Her indignant refusal must have been evident on her face, because the woman rolled her eyes and quickly reached out and snatched it off.

Before Bulma could even react, the door opened. For a moment Bulma sent an outraged glare at the women. Rage rolling of her body in tangible waves. Bulma's muscles were tensed and it took all of herself control not to lunge at the woman. Perhaps it was all that training to be formal when the time called for it, the training to control her emotions when she was representing her planet, whatever it was, it kept Bulma from starting a straight up brawl right then and there.

After a few deep calming breaths, Bulma willed herself to believe it was just like any other diplomatic meeting and that she was just annoyed because Marron had said something slightly offensive and stupid (not hotly enraged because some Saiyan women just took her engagement necklace!). Reflexively a neutral expression slid on Bulma's face, her posture straightened and she held her head up high. She walked in elegantly with a fierce confidence and a strong sense of presence.

Willing herself not to think about what just happened, Bulma kept her gaze straight in front of her. There was the massive emblem of Vegeta-sei displayed on a crimson triangle behind the throne. On the throne, sat King Vegeta, watching her.

His gaze caught her so off guard, Bulma almost lost her calm facade. It was... soft. Which was more than odd and more than alarming. Bulma's own expression hardened. She refused to think of the possible reasons for his expression. He had no right to look at her like that.

It took all of Bulma's will to keep from immediately looking at the other person standing before her. Sheer will. Therefore not really registering his attire. Though, from her peripheral, she could tell he was watching her.

Bulma took calming breaths as her heart began to beat faster and her mind reeled with emotions. Her jaw and fists clenched. Bulma's previous righteous anger came back full force to focus on the Prince. She needed to control her emotions! Her body almost shook as she struggled.

Bulma hadn't even known it was possible for a person to cause so much rage by their presence alone.

She was at the Prince's side now, she stopped before the Saiyan King, her attendants having disappeared from her side at the door. She refused to look at hi-

He began to speak in a sharp foreign language. Reflexively, her eyes snapped over to him. Damn it! Her eyes immediately snapped forward, but not before locking with his for the tiniest of seconds.

When their eyes met, he paused and gave her a small smirk before going on. Bulma almost screamed in anger at him (she blamed him for her will crumbling so quickly). While she had so many reasons to hate him, it still struck her as odd that the smallest gesture could send her emotions passionately flaring. She had never felt hate, or any other emotion, so strongly.

Again, and again she tried to control it. In an effort to distract herself from it, she tried to make out what he was saying. It was in vain. Without a communicator, she was hopeless. Bulma didn't speak that ancient, rapid language.

Then the King began to speak in the native language as well. Addressing both Bulma and Vegeta. Bulma raised a brow. What the hell was going on? Her mind settled on the conclusion that they were going to make her sign a treaty, and this was some ceremony that led to it. Because really, what else could it be?

As the minutes passed, Bulma grew increasingly worried about her ignorance of what was going on around her. She had no idea what was being said, what type of ceremony this was exactly. What if she ended up unintentionally signing over her planet? Or make her people subservient to the Saiyans? Bulma kept the panic from showing on her face. As much as she hated it, she was completely un-in-control (she refused to say helpless). She was at their mercy, and had no other choice but to wait and see where everything led too.

Unwillingly, her thoughts drifted back to her naked neck. Instantly her temper flared and her muscles tensed. They had the audacity to take her engagement necklace from her! Of all the things...! Bulma couldn't even properly describe her indignation.

Before she could even will herself to relax, the Prince suddenly grabbed a hold of her wrist and roughly pulled her to him. His hand left her wrist and wrapped around her waist like a vice. His other hand went to her neck and tilted it to the side a bit, exposing the other side to his face.

His grip on her waist was so tight, it was almost painful. Before she knew what he was doing, his head dipped and his lips were on the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

Then he pulled away and stood straight again, moving them both back to their original places.

...

What the hell was that?! Bulma was in such a state of shock and alarm, she didn't even register anger. And that was a first! Her body was as straight and stiff as a board. Shock and horror frozen on her face. Actually, she had a dead-on impression of what a victim of Medusa must have looked like. Her heart was beating like crazy against her chest and she thought it would give out from all the strain it had been through lately. Her skin was suddenly so hot, she swore she could have melted an ice cube on her stomach.

It was like a delayed reaction, because it had all happened so quickly. She didn't even get a chance to struggle against him or even think about screaming. After the longest moment, Bulma, extremely cautious, glanced at the Prince. His face was completely neutral... as if he hadn't just manhandled her!

The King was speaking again, but Bulma couldn't even pretend to pay attention. Even if she was capable of forming a coherent thought, she wasn't actually given the chance. The Prince suddenly grabbed her wrist and led (dragged, really) her out of the throne room. The last thing Bulma was able think about was her engagement necklace.

--.....--

The ceremony had been shorter than he expected, which was fine by him really. The minute it was over, he grabbed the Princess and went to his room. He let go of her only when he had closed the door behind him. Vegeta headed over to the ancient chest, already pulling off the gold armor. He put it away, piece by piece. Then glanced back to see the Princess standing by the door where he left her. She was frozen like a statue, her eyes wide as they took in the room.

He frowned. She was obviously panicked.

He lifted a brow. Was she scared of mating? Then he shrugged to himself, she would enjoy herself.

In fact, he would make damn sure of it.

She should consider herself lucky. Thousands of women would literally kill to take her place, to be in his bed, his mate. Not only because he was a prince, destined to be the most powerful man in the universe, but frankly, he was a damn good lover. Fact. She should be thanking him, really.

He was about to pull off the white armor when her eyes shifted to him wildly. The moment she spoke, she lost her panicked look.

"Why am I here?" She asked coldly, with a harsh glare.

Vegeta raised a brow at her odd question. What was she expecting after the ceremony? Was there some Ningen custom he wasn't aware off? Maybe Kakarrot had been right. He crossed his arms, studying her face, analyzing what she could mean.

Oh. He knew some planets had a whole banquet and reception after the wedding ceremony, and even left the location all together to finally mate. Perhaps Ningens kept such a tradition.

"The banquets will be held tomorrow night." Vegeta informed her easily as he pulled of his chest armor. He was expecting her to relax.

She didn't. She only gave him the same odd look he had given her. She gave him a snide look and opened her mouth, her face already in a sneer. Her eyes suddenly widened and the sneer turned into the panic look she had earlier

"Why are you taking your clothes off?!" She shouted, so incredibly scandalized, Vegeta was almost alarmed. He shot her another weird look, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

She didn't honestly expect them to mate with clothing on, did she? That was just unpractical. Besides, he had full intentions of seeing her completely, feeling every inch of her skin against his own. His eyes roamed over the teasing curves of her body. His muscles tensed at the thought, his stomach coiling with heat.

He took a steady breath to calm himself. He looked up at her again and for a moment she looked so terrified that for second Vegeta really was alarmed.

Though, there was no reason for her to be. So, maybe it really was a custom thing, and she just held her traditions as close to her as he did his own. He shook his head; he should have done some research on Ningen wedding and mating traditions.

"Why did you undress?" Her look of fear was gone as quickly as it had come, and instead she sent him a steely glare, her tone icy. She was completely on guard.

He frowned at her, and then glanced at the armor he had left on the floor. Another possible Ningen tradition entered his mind. "Did you want to take them off?" He asked casually, then added with a shrug, "I can put it all back on, if you want."

It would be a bother, no doubt, but if it made her relax, he would do it. Plus, he didn't mind the idea of her soft hands gliding over his body. He didn't mind it at all. He caught her gaze again.

If possible, she looked even more scandalized then the last time. Her face had turned a bright red, her fist clenched at her sides. Her mouth was opening and closing, she sputtered trying to say something.

His eyebrow rose again. It was doing that a lot tonight. Though he couldn't help but smirk at her state. She seemed flustered. Was she shy? He found that pretty amusing. Though, he was left wondering. What did she want? If she would only tell him, it would be done. Once again, his eyes began trailing over her body intently.

Her shimmering aqua tresses fell in loose curls, framing her heart shaped face. Her lips were rosy and pouting, begging for him. His eyed rolled over the curve of her neck, his mouth watering at the thought of marking her as his.

While the top of the dress pooled at her collar bone, the sides hugged her breast, tastefully emphasizing her assets. The slope of her waist and hips was tantalizing. His fingers twitched to touch her. Crush her body against his own. While the dress made her look like she didn't belong among mortals, he was sure she looked even better with it off.

Only when he found himself swallowing, did he realize that he was salivating.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She suddenly yelled at him, her fist clenched tightly by her sides.

He was startled by her outburst and laid her with a slightly alarmed and curious look. She was taking quick shallow breaths and her whole body was tense as if she would attack at the slightest movement. His eyes quickly found hers and before she could hide it, he saw it.

Fear.

Both of his brows went up in confusion. What was she so afraid off? He would be gentle... Maybe... At first… Well, he'd deal with that when he got there.

When he caught her eyes again, her look of fear and panic was gone. As if she was in and out of control of her emotions. Her tone and eyes were cold. Authority and slight anger in her voice. "Why am I in your room, and why are you undressing? And so help me if you say-"

"Because we're married." Vegeta finally said as if she was an idiot, giving her a glare. He was being incredibly patient with her odd behavior, her strange outbursts and questions. He figure a little reminder of what that ceremony was for, would remind her of what they should be doing.

Once again, the Princess outdid herself by looking even more scandalized than the previous times. "What?!"

Vegeta's own look of confusion intensified as he stared at her. He searched her face for any clue to her behavior, but her surprise and shock was completely genuine. Where was she during the ceremony? Scratch that, she had had prior knowledge to their wedding long before that.

Her face shifted between various emotions of horror, confusion, disgust and outright anger "How is this- why- what? You're lying!" She shouted, pointing at him.

Vegeta sent her a nasty scowl. One thing Vegeta did not put up with, was being called a liar. "Listen here, woman. I've tolerated your strange behavior for some time now, and you suddenly playing dumb-"

"What?!" She yelled again, glaring at him, disbelief and anger on her face. She then suddenly clutched at her head in dismay, her eyes wide. "That- that was a not a wedding! That was-was-"

"That's exactly what it was." Vegeta spat, he did not like being interrupted either, "You can't honestly expect me to believe you're just figuring this out. I thought you Ningens were supposed to be smart. Not to mention you've known about this before that ceremony even began."

"At the Station!" She cried in dismay. "Your Father- why didn't I listen to him?!"

Vegeta glared at her. While his Father had told her on the Space Station, that was not the first time it was discussed. He hadn't been bothered by her nonexistent reaction to the reminder then.

Though, there were moments through out the ceremony when emotion would run through her eyes, her body stiffing and relaxing. It didn't bother him much, that is, till the end. She suddenly looked enraged. When he kissed her neck, all she would have had to do was pull away and the marriage would have been stopped. He was worried she would pull away. It was why he had grabbed her so quickly and fiercely.

How could she be ignorant of this day? He looked over her form again; didn't that give her a clue? "You think that dress you're wearing is just given to political captives?"

She looked down at her dress wide-eyed, then her eyes narrowed accusingly. She pulled at the loose white fabric at her collarbone and for a moment he thought she was going to tear it off. Her eyes widen again and she looked up, hope brimming in them.

"There was no necklace! Or ring! You didn't give me any type of symbol!" She cried as if it would make the whole ceremony void. "I didn't even say 'I do'!"

He was beginning to get mad. First she calls him a liar, and then she clearly shows that she did not want to marry him. He gave her a harsh glare, she was owed to him. She had no say in the matter.

He sneered at her, "The kiss was the seal. Besides, Saiyans don't give out trinkets. Our symbol is part of the flesh, can never be removed, taken or lost."

She gave him an odd look for a moment then shook her head. "I can't be- I can't be married to you!" She shouted fiercely.

His anger was rising. Who did she think she was? How dare she say it with such- such disgust? He was the Saiyan Prince, the strongest race in the universe. He was destined to be the greatest king who ever lived. She was chosen to be by his side. To be his mate. How dare she be anything less than grateful?

He uncrossed his arms and began to advance on her. His hands clenched into tight fists, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

Her eyes widened again, this time she didn't even try to hide her fear. It didn't even cross his mind to attempt to care. In a moment of tense panic, she suddenly turned and bolted the few feet to the door and flung it open.

Before she could even take a step through it, he was there in an instant, his palm slamming into the door, wrenching it from her grasp. He roughly grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, slamming her against the door.

She struggled wildly, her limbs colliding with his body much harder and faster than he expected. She twisted in his grasp, and her hand shot like a viper at his tail wrapped around his waist. She dug in her nails. In his surprise at the sudden painful contact, his muscles spasmed and his grip loosened. With a fiercely hard push, she ripped her body out from under him and dashed to the other side of the room.

His mind blanked for the briefest of seconds, as he leaned against the door on his forearms. Then he registered nothing but strong anger. He slowly turned, his jaw clenched and his breath coming in quick succession through his nostrils. She glared at him in much the same state, though her chest was heaving and her body trembling with adrenaline.

His tail snap in the air beside him. A Saiyan of his caliber had long ago gotten rid of that vulnerability, the tail's sensitivity to touch. However, no matter how hard one trained, their tail would always be sensitive around one's mate. It was a simple fact. While it wasn't as sensitive as some other organs, it was still pretty high up there. He was just glad they hadn't actually mated yet, or she very well could have incapacitated him.

This thought did nothing but infuriate him. It was one of the reasons he had wanted to wait to mate her! He could eventually be incredibly vulnerable to her. He did not want to be vulnerable to anyone. Especially some Ningen. Mate or not.

With the look he gave her, she really should have melted into the floor it was so heated with anger. She faltered for a second, before she straightened up and glared right back at him, her look just as venomous.

For a moment, he was taken back. Just were did she get the audacity to look at him that way?! She had no grounds! He had been nothing but patient towards her, he was even planning to take it slow, instead of completely ravishing her like his instincts told him to do. Did she appreciate it?! No! She decided to go crazy on him and started insulting him, and then she was actually going to run from his room and then attacked him!

He never thought he could be so mad at her. He stalked over to her, not really sure of what his intentions were. She would be his, of course. She would belong to him before the night was through. Nothing would change that. While he would have like to wait to be mated, he certainly couldn't wait now. His body was too heated.

"Stay away from me...!" She hissed out fiercely, her eyes ablaze.

His eyes narrowed on her. Vegeta continued to advance on her. Something dark growing in him at her defiance. Her eyes looked wildly around the room, she lunged for a vase on the dresser to her right. What did she think she was going to do with that? His mood grew disturbingly morose. He raised a brow and sent her a mocking smirk.

The motion seemed to ignite her, she barred her teeth at him in rage and launched it at him. Vegeta didn't bother to dodge and it hit him square in the chest. It shattered against him as if it had hit a wall. It fell in pieces at his feet. The shattered glass left his torso covered in small nicks, thin drops of blood sliding down his abs.

In his dark mood, the attack only seemed to amuse him. The smell of his own blood brought on a sinister shot of delight, that of which only a Saiyan could experience. Her fiery anger faltered again at his reaction and her chest heaved with her frantic breaths.

He stepped over the broken vase and carried on towards her. His mood growing more bestial with each rapid beat of his heart. The small cuts on his stomach were already healing up. She glanced at the nearest exit and ran. He was on her before she could even advance three feet. He slammed her into the wall and pressed himself against her.

She fought him like her life depended on it. Her heart was beating like a hammer through her chest and against his, making his heart beat rise with hers. She pushed against him. Scratched at his shoulders, leaving bloody trails. She lifted her leg to knee him. He took the opportunity to slide his thigh between her legs.

She gasped and fought even harder against him. She squeezed her legs shut, indirectly on his thigh; making the heat in his stomach burn and spread. She yelled and screamed at him. Not pleas or apologizes, just throaty yells torn between anger and fear.

He grabbed the hands that were clawing at his shoulders and locked them on either side of her head. She turned away from him in an effort to create some space. He simply dipped his head to place his hot mouth on her neck. Never once did her struggle let up. No, it intensified as he began to smother her skin with moist fiery kisses.

He was beyond any rationality. Carnal instinct alone driving him. Her entire being ensnaring his senses. Her soft warm body pressed up against his own. He could smell her fresh clean scent, heavy with fear. Her throaty cries against his ear. The taste of her skin under his tongue. The sight of her struggling under him.

Distantly, he knew this wasn't how he wanted her. Though, the thick cloud of dark lust refused to leave him, and he found her more than satisfying in this manner. His body was on fire with unimaginable want and he knew she was the only thing that would quench him.

He let go of one of her hands and blindly groped at her shoulder. Searching for the strap of the dress that kept her from him. He was about to rip it off, when she cried out.

"Vegeta! Stop!" She screamed, her voice throaty and strong, but not hiding the desperation in it. At the sound of his name from her lips, he froze for a moment. She took the opportunity to try to get away, making him fight back against her again.

But she had saved herself. She had dispersed the dark fog, leaving him in the hazy aftermath. He grabbed her free hand and locked it beside her head again.

While she kept struggling, he simply froze against her, pushing her into the wall. In that moment he had enough sense to be disgusted with himself, but barley. The magnitude of what he was doing, not fully sinking in just yet. His mind was skirting through thoughts, unable to stop on one and develop it.

Only one thing was clear: He had lost control. He had never lost control like that. Wildly his eyes searched for a reason, but didn't truly see anything they laid on. He could only register her body squirming against his. He could blamed her.

She was the reason for him losing control like that. It had never happened with any other women. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself, make the heat in his stomach fade away. It was impossible. So he willed the heat into anger.

He glared down at her. She was still fighting him. Deifying him. He wasn't even moving, his chest slightly heaving against her own as he took deep breaths. A detached part of his psyche knew what he wanted, and realized she would not willingly give it to him.

He sneered down at her. Consuming anger at the rejection filling his body. By sheer force of will he pushed away the suddenly intensity. He refused to dwell on it.

Well, he knew what needed to be done.

He let go of her hands and wrapped an arm around her waist, crushing her against him and away from the wall. His other hand went to the base of her skull, grabbing a fist full of her silken hair. He roughly tugged her head to the side and without warning sunk his teeth into her flesh.

She let out a cry of shock and pain and fell limp against him.

It was excruciating, he knew. With her muscles so tense from her struggles, her body rigid and unyielding. Excruciating. Not that he cared about her comfort right now. He was much too angry with her and her reaction and even himself. He was certainly not going to soothe her either.

He pushed away from her and stormed into the bathroom. Nothing but a cold shower could help him now.

--.....0.0.--

.To Be Continued.

--.....0.0.--

A/N – Hey thanks for sticking with me! Please leave a review so I have some idea of how many people are actually reading this.

Anyway. I hate it when Vegeta and Bulma are mauling each other the first second they're alone together. If you want instant love, this is not your fic. I intend to work though the dynamics of their relationship, and have a big challenge before me to make them pull a 180.

Thank you to everyone who put this fic on their alert and favorites list. An even bigger thank you to everyone who took the time to review. Those reviews fuel me and make chapters come a lot sooner!