Music of the Night

Chapter: 6
Subtitle: Parting
Author: Trixie-chan
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating:
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Note: Oh-em-gee, I'm back. Kinda. :) So... I got the urge to continue on with this story and hopefully finish it up since I was still getting random reviews and things. I felt super bad that I had just dropped it—and its fans—like a rock.

In reading through this story to get the gist of what was happening (I honestly had no idea), I realized holy SHIT Vegeta is the biggest effing pansy ever in this story. So yeah, that's going to change. Honestly, when I started writing this story, I don't think I had any idea where it was going. In fact, I'm sure I didn't. I just had the idea and wrote whatever. This is probably the reason that I had such a hard time getting chapters out at any rate other than turtle speed. Thankfully, having read through it and having matured since, I actually have ideas for the rest of the story and should have it finished in short order. That being said, the story will be written in a more mature and (hopefully) more well-written fashion. With that, I shall get on with the story.

FYI: Yeah... I really was 15-16 years old when I wrote it initially. All that Chris bullshit... Dear LORD I was pathetic, and I apologize to you all and to myself for embarrassing myself in such a way. Seriously. I creeped myself out when I read it. That and all of the errors that were in there due to an apparent lack of spell/grammar check and proof reading. Childhood: the ultimate adult slap in the face.

--

Bulma's mouth went dry, and in the back of her mind she wondered if she looked like a fish.

"You're... you're what?" she stuttered in disbelief, her arms unintentionally tightening around his neck.

"The record company..." Vegeta paused and swallowed. "The company made a deal with a Japanese company... They told me that although my concert and record sales are still high in the US, they have been going down and projections show me becoming old news within the year... Japan, on the other hand... My music just started going over there, and my perspectives there are high and my longevity in this business assured. Bulma... I wasn't born into money. I made this of myself. I may have a lot now, but it's all relative. If I were done this year, it wouldn't be long before I had nothing. I really do love what I do..."

Bulma was silent the whole time and for a good many moments afterwards. She didn't know what to think. Her mind and body were numb. Her arms fell limp at her sides and she mindlessly turned toward the inside of the house. Vegeta looked on, worry written on his features, as she slowly drifted towards the main sitting room. Once she reached the large, lush couch, she dropped unceremoniously onto the soft cushions, seemingly oblivious to the revealing outfit that she had on.

As she sunk into the folds of the couch, her mind was a whir of endless questions and insecurities. Was this a farce to get her out? No... That couldn't be the case. If he were going to get some tonight, he would have told her after and shucked her out after he got what he wanted. Why couldn't he just stay here with her and pursue this? Why was this happening right when they were getting serious? Why her?

"Bulma...?" Vegeta murmured, concerned about her reaction.

"What does this mean for us?" Bulma whispered so quietly that it took Vegeta a moment to register she had even spoken.

"I don't know. That's up to you..." he replied.

"How is it up to me?" Bulma snapped, feeling her temper slowly rising and overtaking her senses. "Please. Enlighten me."

Vegeta flinched at the harshness of her voice and felt his own temper rising to match. Knowing how harsh his outbursts could be, he reigned himself and took a deep breath.

"You could come with me."

A hollow, mirthless laugh escaped from her throat. She shook her head as the wry smile faded into nothingness and a choked sob escaped from her throat. "I can't do that..."

"Why not? What is keeping you here?" Vegeta asked, truly surprised.

"My father. My family. The business that will be mine. My father told me that I have to start taking it seriously and working to earn my share, the respect of those who will work beside me and under me, and the prove to the shareholders—and to everyone—that I am competent and capable to run the company." Her voice was devoid of emotion, and though tears streamed in a constant trail down her cheeks, her eyes stared blankly at the floor. Vegeta's mouth tightened in a thin line.

"And you have to start this now?"

"Of course I do," Bulma replied. "I should have started when I reached majority. Instead, despite my father's objections, I hung out with friends and followed you around the country. My father gave me an ultimatum: start now or relinquish my title as heir. I have no choice. I can't go with you."

Vegeta had not expected that. He had thought that there would be no problem; that they would spirit off to Japan and live in comfort. He approached the couch and dropped next to her, slumping his stature, and set his forearms on his knees. "What does this mean for us...?" he murmured, repeating the same statement she had asked minutes before.

"Don't make me say it..." she uttered placing her face in her hands.

They sat in silence for a long while, both thinking about their own futures and the absence of the other.

The sound of Bulma stirring caused Vegeta to raise his head and glance her way. She had pushed herself to the edge of the couch and eased herself onto her feet. Vegeta was about to question where she was going when she turned towards him. She pushed his back against the couch and slowly crawled onto his lap.

"Bulma, wh—" She cut him off with a finger to his lips as she had done before, but not nearly with the same look of passion and happiness. There was a quiet sadness, love, and dull acceptance in her eyes. She shook her head and smiled lightly—a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"I don't want this night to be remembered only in sadness. I want to remember you—remember this—always. I still want you to be my first. I want this." She lowered her forehead against his, her finger still pressed to his lips.

"Are you sure about this, Bulma?" He didn't know if he wanted her to say no or yes. She responded by placing her hands behind his head and pulling his lips to meet hers.

As their kiss deepened, his arms wove around her waist and pulled her closer. He began to roam around her mostly bare back, setting any skin he touched aflame. She could feel his hardness under her gradually becoming more and more firm. It was more of a turn on than she ever though it could be.

Vegeta, never breaking their kiss, picked her up and lay her down on the couch. Only then did his lips part from hers and continue down onto her neck and chest. As slowly has his lips moved on her, so did his hands down her sides and to the edges of her lacy thong. He slowly peeled her panties down and off her slender legs, throwing them across the room. He smirked devilishly at her as he moved lower on her.

She gasped as she felt his mouth on her, his tongue doing things to her she never had the guts to even think about. She never thought anything could feel this good. Her hips slowly rose towards him and her hand ended up on the back of his head, an unexpected urgency in it.

So the little one is trying to take control, eh? Vegeta thought, fighting and easily overpowering her arm to move his head back. The corner of his mouth rose in another smirk as he moved his mouth once again onto hers and began reaching around her to undo the laces of her bodice.

Once he had removed her top, her fingers eagerly rose to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling slightly in her haste to remove the thin fabric. As she began to shift her hands to his pants after finally succeeding with his top, he chucked and blocked her hands. He was going to do that himself.

He stood up and removed his pants and boxers, now the only things that presented any sort of barrier between them. They both looked at each other, naked, and soaked in each others' appearance. Who knew if they would ever see it again?

Finally Vegeta placed himself between her legs. He noticed her tense up slightly for fear of the pain she would inevitably feel. He brought his hand to her cheek and slowly caressed it.

"You know I would never hurt you, right?" he asked lightly, looking deeply into her eyes. She nodded, in essence telling him to continue. "Just look at me."

He slowly entered her. Slick though she was, it was still remarkably tight. Being an active young woman, she had no barrier to break, but he still felt her flinch and watched her eyes slam shut as he entered. A slight, barely audible whimper escaped her lips.

Once he was fully inside her, he touched his forehead to hers and ran his fingers through her hair. He was going to wait until she gave him the go ahead to continue, intent on hurting her as little as possible.

She nodded her head whispering, "Go." He slowly resumed moving inside of her.

After a bit, her small flinches were replaced by slowly moving hips; her slight gasps of sudden pain by small moans of pleasure. Fueled by the pleasure she was expressing, he began moving faster. He brought his hands down to her bare breasts, gently teasing her nipples with pinches causing her to giggle slightly.

She wished that this wouldn't be their only time. She wished that she could experience this without the odd ache and pain that she had pushed to the back of her consciousness. She wished that they weren't leaving each other. Silent tears slipped between her eyelids as she moved with him.

All too soon for both of them it was over; the final gasping breaths and pleasured cries rising and falling and leaving the room engulfed in silence. The only sound was the light rasping of their breathing. Bulma curled herself against his chest and didn't even bother to try to stop the tears from falling.

Vegeta just stared at the ceiling.

--

Vegeta watched from the doorway as she got into the limo. They had not voiced their goodbyes, but rather looked into each others' eyes knowing all the words they wanted to say but couldn't voice. He didn't know when or if they would see each other again.

I can't go through this again... he thought, watching the limo pull away from his drive. He squared his shoulders, forked his eyebrows, and turned back into the house. This will be the first and the last time that I ever let anybody get to me.

It was time to make his bad-boy image a reality.

--

Bulma tried desperately to staunch the flow of tears as she shut the limo door behind her. She shoved the heels of her hands to her eyes hoping that barring their exit would stop them.

It didn't work.

She wiped her eyes furiously, hating that she didn't have control over herself. How was she going to take over such a large and bustling company when she didn't have control over her emotions and, therefore, herself?

I will be preserved as weak; a pushover. I will be taken advantage of at every turn. I will be the "woman" that everyone expects of me. I don't want that for myself. I am stronger than that.

Steel hardened her delicate features deadening the warmth in her eyes and turning them icy with resolve. Bulma learned something very valuable on that long ride home: tears can't fall from eyes that are dead.

End Chapter 6

Well there you have it. The first chapter since the falling out. I hope you have enjoyed it. I am actually well into chapter 7 at the present time, so it shouldn't take me that long to get that one out. I've been writing on Tuesdays and Fridays during bowling, so that has been a good thing (I've got perfect times to write).

Anyway, tell me what you think. Hope all is well!

- Amber, AKA Trixie