He came back to the cavern after participating in what could only be considered "training." It seemed the rock they lived in was actually, literally, a rock. One of thousands in an asteroid belt. The atmosphere outside of the deep, winding caves was abysmal. The further away from the tunnels one went, the harsher and colder it became. There would be no escape from this place. Yet he and twelve other aliens from various caverns were directed out of the safety of the rocks to the unforgiving, frigid blackness outside. His training had consisted of testing his skills against the other warriors while avoiding radiation, exposure, low oxygen, and pitiful gravity. It had been excruciating, terrifying, and brutal. Half of the battle had been overcoming his own dread – the tiniest mistake would cost him a horrid death that was most unwarrior-like - while the other half had been overcoming his opponents. All twelve of them… all at once. Of the thirteen, he was the only to return to the safety of the rocky depths.
The whole experience had been unequivocally, unconditionally, absolutely the most thrilling battle he had ever known. And the most ruthless.
He wanted only to get warm again and sleep. His bones felt as though they would shatter with every step. Even the miniscule gravity increase deeper in the caves made his joints ache. The heavier air weighed down on him and made him feel like his skin would split and flop off his body. The absolute sensation and perspectives of having a ceiling tell him which way was up and a ground to show him where down was confused his vision, and he found his head tilt to the left as his balance listed to the right. His lungs crunched as every breath expelled ice crystals. Even his blood felt sluggish in his veins. Never in his life had he felt so eager for the nothingness of dreamless unconsciousness.
So when he arrived to his corner of the cave and saw her asleep in his spot, he was literally awestruck as emotions exploded in every direction. The sensation was so alien to him and his exhaustion so complete, he was left to the devices of his animal side, conscious thought beyond his capability. So many things he direly wanted all at once, things he needed, he was left rooted in place and quaking in desperate indecision. He wanted to tear her flesh and crush her bones just to feel her hot blood squish in his fingers as he spread it all over his face and chest. He wanted curl into a tight ball and bury himself inside her chest cavity, kept warm and safe as her heartbeat lulled him to sleep. He wanted to expose every part of her skin and sink his teeth into its softness. He wanted to squeeze her neck and watch the life fade from her eyes.
Eyes that were innocent and open, searching him, looking through him. Was she unaware of his struggle? Of his desire to break her, own her, devour her, destroy her…No. Those wide, penetrating, burning eyes would never be so calm and trusting if she knew these things. And yet.. and yet.. He squeezed his eyes shut and his hand shot out to grip the wall for support. He would not collapse. He would not show weakness.
He thrust the wild emotions to the pit of his gut where they simmered, refusing to be fully tamed. He reached for control and when his weary mind brushed against it, he dug in and pulled with all of his might to bring it to the surface. He waited until his head stopped spinning before opening his eyes. She peered up at him, curious, and he responded by glowering at her. Now that he had a chance to study her without the animal inside him clawing to get out, he did so from under lidded eyes. She seemed… beyond real… somehow. Overwhelming. The beast he thought he had subdued shuddered with a ravenous desire to – to break. To own. To devour.
He shook his head to clear it further. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Without realizing it, he peeled his lips back and inhaled, tasting the air. The shock made him cough, dislodging more ice crystals from his lungs which caused him to suck in more air. The pungent, invasive flavor of her pheromones thickened and his body stiffened as he flinched backwards. He slammed his jaw shut with force enough that his teeth clacked. Body vibrating, he tried to expel the scent by hacking and rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, unaware that the gestures reminded Bulma of a cat coughing up a hairball.
When she giggled, he stopped with his tongue hanging partially out of his mouth and tried to scowl at her. Realizing his tongue was still sticking out of his lips, he pulled it into his mouth and quaked as hot rage ignited a low growl.
She sobered then, but seemed too spent to fear him properly. She fought to keep her eyes open so she could continue to watch him. Their staring game continued, each wary of the other.
Minutes later, her features twisted in pain followed by desperation. "Vegeta," she whispered, her voice thick and hoarse.
He grimaced when she said his name. The tone in her voice was too… familiar. It both enraged and thrilled him. She licked her lips and tried to speak again. "Vegeta, I have to pee…"
She struggled to sit up, but lacked the strength. Managing only to rise a few inches before collapsing several times, she finally gave up and looked up at him, her expression imploring. He frowned. He couldn't make himself believe what she had said but, logic defied him and he couldn't help thinking she really was asking that he assist her find a place to release her water. The idea in itself was so absurd he snorted with laughter, but as she continued to stare at him, he grew more suspicious. Did she actually intend that he help her? He wanted nothing more than to keep his distance. Her stench breeched his senses and stretched his control. If he went any closer, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to refrain from tearing her apart. Would he even care if he did?
He blinked in response to a realization. If she lost her water here, it would contaminate his space and the air would be saturated with… that scent.
His frown deepened. If that happened, he would leave her here and find another place to sleep. He'd happily evict any other alien in the cavern and happily contend with whatever odors they left behind.
He crossed his arms over his chest.
"No."
She stared at him for a minute, as if trying to discern if he were seriously telling her no. Apparently, she came to the conclusion that, yes, he meant precisely what he said. She made a surprisingly convincing growling noise in his general direction, bit her lip, and tried once again to stand. She glared at him with such genuine hatred, he couldn't help smirking. When she managed to gain her footing and stumble towards the crack in the wall that led to the rock pond, he followed her – at a safe distance and breathing shallowly – just to see how complete her failure was. She was pathetically weak and could hardly find the strength to keep her eyes open – so he anticipated one of two conclusions: she'd either fall over and wet herself before making it very far, or she'd make it to a suitable secluded spot and probably wet herself, anyway, as she would most likely fall over while trying to disrobe. The inevitable exposure to the scent of her pheromone-rich urine was a sick, masochistic urge he couldn't squash. He didn't try very hard, though. Instead, he licked his lips. Nasal comfort be damned - this was just too good to miss.
He allowed her to get far enough ahead to maintain a distance his nose would agree with, but stayed close enough he could intervene should she actually fall. This portion of the path was narrow enough he had to turn his body towards the rock wall and progress sideways, using handholds to secure his weight. The woman was smaller than he, but weak enough that she, too, had to cling to the wall for balance. The ravine down which he had chucked the alien body was below them. He had no idea how he had been able to carry her passed this passage the night he had meant to kill her. Except that maybe he had leapt from one rock outcropping to the next on a secondary path adjacent to the first – but looking at the formations and the likely path he must have used to leap frog from one to the next seemed ludicrously risky while burdened – even if she did weigh next to nothing.
He made the jumps easy enough now, but it still unnerved him that he had done so before with such little concentration he didn't even remember it. Had he been that distracted before? He snorted when a landing kicked loose rocks over the side. Watching them as they disappeared into the abyss below, he almost didn't make it to the female in time to prevent her from toppling over. He still was loathe to get close to her, so instead of correcting her balance with a hand, he tipped her back to the ledge with his tail. Her wild eyes flicked over her shoulder to take in her almost-catastrophe, but she turned her head quickly back to the wall and hugged it with her body. He smirked at her fear, but the curve of his lips grew when she didn't hesitate and continued to pull her body towards her goal instead of retreating. When something snagged her progression, though, he spit out a growl and snatched his tail back like it had been burned. He stared at the tip before snapping its length a few times to rid it of any lingering stench. He then wrapped it tightly around his waist as if doing so would prevent the thing from doing anything treacherous – like saving her again.
She looked over her shoulder again – this time at him – and he swallowed petulant growls he hadn't realized he had been making when he noticed she had been smiling at his expense.
Crossing his arms, he let her go ahead – she was passed the narrow ledge – and stared after her, glowering. She always seemed to be able to interpret his moods. It was infuriating. And embarrassing.
Sighing, he leapt the last few rock formations and landed softly and solid ground. This time when he followed her, he did so at twice the distance, though he was tempted to carry her just to speed things up. The silly girl was teetering at a ridiculously slow pace, likely still on her feet out of spite of him for telling her he'd not help her.
When she ducked behind a collection of boulders – finally - he stopped and waited, suddenly wondering why the hell he had followed her at all. And then…. Why the hell she hadn't been surprised he had followed her. Feeling manipulated – but uncertain how - and more than a little awkward, he turned to go back to his sleeping place. Then turned back. Several times he found himself moving in one direction just to turn around again. Frustrated, he only stopped his back and forth pacing when the obvious sound of the woman in self-made distress caught the attention of his sensitive ears. A wicked grin slid onto his face and he moved towards the sounds of the woman's squawking.
He approached, purposefully making noises as he came nearer. By the time he peered over the rocks, she had regained composure enough to have pulled her garments back into place – but by her disheveled look and wholly displeased disposition, she hadn't been fully successful in her endeavor. She confirmed it when she awkwardly admitted her humiliation.
"I peed myself," she stated flatly.
He snorted and raised an eyebrow. "And you came all this way to save yourself from exactly that," He replied.
Skipping over the remaining rocks, he brushed by her and continued to saunter towards the direction of the rock pool. When she was nearly out of sight, he glanced over his shoulder and spied her shadowy form still standing in place where he'd left her staring after him. He chuckled darkly but was choked off when he caught a whiff of her scent. Apparently, he hadn't walked far enough to escape it. "You must bathe," he forced out stiffly.
"I know that," she spat back, and moved towards him.
He leapt onto a mountain of rocks, climbed to its peak, and kept his back towards her until she passed. The rock pool was just around the corner, and he waited several very long minutes until he heard the sounds of a capsule being opened followed by water splashing before leaping to the ground. His steps were slow and tentative as he stepped around the final bend. He paused on the threshold of where stone met water - an outcrop of rock jutting from the pond's surface - where he could squat on the balls of his feet and observe from a few feet above. In the dim light of the glowing rock, the woman stood nude in the center of the tiny lake, only deep enough to conceal her to her hips. Her back was towards him and she used a small square of foamed cloth to scrub at her skin.
Bulma knew he was there when he kicked a few pebbles into the water. She knew it was a courtesy – he moved like a midnight panther on velvet paws and only made sound if he wished to do so. She wasn't bothered by his presence, but she couldn't be sure if the chills that twisted up her spine and squeezed her heart was from knowing he was watching her or if it was from the frigid water. She supposed it didn't matter – but when she turned to face him, she did so with her arms crossed over her. She wasn't shy and she certainly wasn't ashamed of her nakedness – in fact, part of her wanted to defy and taunt the overbearing brute by flaunting herself without fear - but, for some reason, she felt if she covered her literal nakedness, she could somehow create a barrier for the utter feeling of mental exposure she felt. Since she had come out of that pod, her brain felt raw and stuffed – unable to filter out anything leaving her uncertain of what was foreign and what came from inside her own mind.
God. And Vegeta. She felt like she was about to burst into flames. She tried to focus on whatever flimsy mental barrier she could hide behind and looked up at him.
He perched on an overhang of rock with his head tilted, calmly studying her as if she were a bird about to take flight moments before the cat could pounce. She suddenly was reminded of the first time they had met, she cowering with her back against the wall while he dissected her with dark, alien eyes. She took a step backwards in the chill water, wondering now, as she did then, why it was so difficult to differentiate fear and arousal. Did she feel this way? Or was it him projecting the feelings into her brain? Had she ever truly felt anything before? It was so grey before. And now.. every emotion had power enough to destroy her. She feared it.
But it was so free to feel such pure, raw - -
She slammed the door on her ragged, uncontrolled emotions and tried to calm herself. Her breath caught in her throat, and as she had always done before when she didn't know what to think, she babbled. "W-why…" she cleared her throat and licked her lips to wet them. "Why does it look like you can't decide whether you'd rather eat me or tear me in half? Or tear me in half then eat me?"
He blinked at her once. "You smell like a Saiyan." He stated simply, his voice thick.
Confused, she was about to ask what the hell one had to do with the other when she realized he held her jeans – soaked in her urine - in his hands. Thoroughly baffled and more than a little grossed out, she watched as he brought her pants to his nose where, with parted lips, he could both inhale the smell and taste it on the air. Her scientist-brain tried to find logic in his actions. As a species that relied heavily on scent to discern…
Hell. He was an animal. And like an animal, he probably marked his territory and picked fleas out of the hair of his comrades and ate them. Yet as he progressed from smelling her jeans to burying his head in the denim to rub the scent of her pee all over his face, she tried not to gag.
Her face twisted in disgust, her voice quavered. "Uhhmm…"
He tore the jeans from his face. This time when their eyes met, she felt he more closely resembled a snake on the verge of strike. The strange way his eyes reflected the light made him seem even more beastly. And then she heard it. Or she thought she did? A strange, guttural huffing that seemed to her that it should have been too low for her to be able to hear. Morbidly fascinated, she listened to the sound and distantly wondered why the sound seemed all consuming.. compelling her to – to? She forced herself to withdraw her attention to the sound and focus on Vegeta. She didn't know how she knew, but she was certain the sound had come from him. How could she have possibly heard something so.. so sub-harmonic? Especially from this distance? And why the hell had she wanted to growl back – in what? Invitation?
More to slap herself awake than anything else, she forced herself to speak, not really paying attention to her words as she said them. "You smell like a Saiyan, but I never wanted to rub your piss all over my face."
He seemed to partially come to his senses – his rational senses – and glowered at her. Throwing her jeans aside, his eyes burned like two glowing embers in the dimness, scorching holes into her soul.
"You are in heat." He said between clenched teeth.
Oh.
If she hadn't already peed, she'd have done so now. At least she knew why he was staring at her like she was a steak. Would she be served with or without a side of are you shitting me? She looked towards the heavens, though her view was blocked by the cavern ceiling. Maybe that pest namek, Kami, would hear her and take pity. Her lips twisted in irony. Who was she kidding? The ass hole was probably on his lookout at this minute, on his back laughing at her.
Fuck me! she thought.
She jumped, her attention snatched from her thoughts by the Saiyan when he violently flinched, his expression – if possible – becoming even more wild and heated. He dropped from the rocks into the water and was on her before she could think. She could only squawk in reaction as she found herself suddenly thrown against the far rock wall. Thrust out of the water and held up by her throat, the only way for her to support her weight was to wrap her legs around the hips of the feral Saiyan. There was no room to struggle, her entire body was pinned by his. She froze. If she had felt like a bird or a mouse before, there was no word to describe how she felt now. His body radiated heat and it was no surprise to her when his ki flared to life, causing his collar to hum. The aura around him dimmed in response, but refused to submit.
His grip around her neck tightened as he lifted her higher, breaking the hold of her legs on him. Gasping and trying to wiggle to gain release – or at least a chance to take in much needed air – she didn't pay much attention to the Saiyan's actions. That abruptly changed when he threw one of her legs over a shoulder to both prevent her wrapping it around his waist and to force her hips into an alarming position near his face. Holding her firmly in place, he buried his nose in the junction between her thighs and inhaled deeply. That strange, chuffing growl echoed in his chest again, vibrating against her sensitive flesh.
Resisting the beguiling sensation the sound invoked in the pit of her gut, she acted on panic and warring instincts that told her to be both afraid and aroused. She twisted her hips just as his tongue darted between his lips to taste her. Not in the least thwarted by his near miss, he changed his intent at the last moment and bit deeply into the meat of her groin muscle. An electric snap jolted through her spine and sizzled throughout her body just as his collar crackled and sparked, leaving her reeling with a pleasure magnified by pain.
She focused on the sharp sting of electric snapping that popped from his collar to hold herself from the brink of total submission. Clinging to fear as if it were a life line, she blindly, desperately battered at his thoughts, looking for cracks in the pure beauty of his animalistic mind. With every snap and spark, the collar failed to contain the rise of his ki energy, and both his aura and her pain grew. When the agony of electrocution grew powerful enough to distract even Vegeta, he pulled back just enough to notice the shuttering, whimpering, sweat slicked woman he held. Confused, he tried to pull his fragmented thoughts into cohesion. Violence and the lust of sex and blood still screamed in his veins, but the sparking of his collar that pulsed in time with his heart beat kept him from losing himself. Wanting nothing more than to continue to bite and lick and suck and taste and bury himself in scent and warmth and blood and sex, he clamped his jaw tight and did the only thing a Saiyan can do when disoriented and half mad with an uncertain, displaced emotion. He pulled his rage to him and drank from its limitless pool.
Looking up at the wide, shining eyes of the ethereal blue haloed human, his focus burned on the feel of her mind as it fluttered around his own. It pierced his defenses with frightening ease, and his senses were flooded with her own twisted version of his war – only she was trying to use fear to force her arousal away from her and not the fury he used to feed or drown his lusts. Strangely, both of their wars had the same effect; just as anger augmented his lust for sex, so did her fear despite her attempt for the opposite. He bared his teeth in partial disgust. What a cowardly lie to tell oneself to escape an unwanted emotion. Unless –
- Unless she was aware that her fear augmented her lust and she was using it to enflame…
Growling dangerously from the pit of his chest, his eyes nailed her in place just as equally as his hand still around her throat. His voice was so low and guttural, it was almost a whisper. "Am I your enemy?"
Her breath caught in her throat. "Nn – No."
He brought her to eye level. Their faces were so close, his eyes almost blended into a single, enflamed orb floating millimeters from her own. He took in a breath through an open mouth, and she could hear the thickness of her blood that coated his throat when he spoke again. "Then why do you fear me?"
She hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath until she let it go in a sudden rush. She felt oddly detached from herself and for a brief moment, and felt she were looking at herself as though she were the Saiyan. His raw, untamed feelings, so focused and intense…. When she heard herself say, "Why do you enjoy making me feel fear?" she even felt his amusement. Never once could she find the true fear they spoke of. It was like… it didn't exist. At least – that's how she felt up until the moment he released his hold on her. Both the one on her neck and the one inside her head. Or was she inside his head?
Her fear fluttered in her chest halfheartedly as he backed away from her. This time he looked at her with a mocking half grin, as though he understood something now and he was playing with her. She frowned and tried to cling to and amplify her fear. Instead, it puttered out as though bored and refused to return. More unnerved by this than by the Saiyan, she watched as he pulled himself out of the water on the far side of the small pond. He returned to his perch on a pile of rocks and turned to observe her, a slight curve to his lips.
Beyond cold and feeling extremely exposed, she eventually followed him but stopped before exiting when he cocked his head at her and chuckled.
"What's so funny?" She spat.
His laughter died when he scowled. "You very nearly tempted your own death, little female."
Her jaw dropped open, but she closed her mouth when she realized she didn't know what she wanted to say. Sputtering, and with several false starts, she finally decided she had to pick something to say because she couldn't ask all she wanted all at once. So she chose the easiest. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He peered intently at her for a moment before averting his eyes. He looked… almost embarrassed… before reverting back into a blanket of anger and accusation.
"Did you not demand that I fuck you?" The emphasis on the word fuck was evidence of his unfamiliarity, but his understanding of its meaning was quite clear. If she had doubt, it vanished with his next words.
"It is what this human word means, yes? To service your physical need in your time of estrus? I responded -"
"You HEARD that? How did you hear that? I wasn't talking out loud! How did you even know what that word meant?"
His eyebrows lowered and he blinked at her as though she were as dumb as the rocks he was standing on. "Do you think now that I speak in your tongue? Or you in mine?"
She chewed her lip and considered his words. How he had said them. Staring at him, she concluded that yes, he was still speaking in a very alien language. And she was speaking English. Yet they understood each other perfectly. It had started the day he had tried to drown her and had only become more clear since that time. Once she had returned from the healing pod – where she learned he had taken her – communication was so effortless she hadn't even noticed. Was it because of the telepathy she was supposed to have now? Or because Saiyan DNA made the connection they already had stronger?
He saw the moment of clarity on her features and snorted. He stood and deftly kicked her jeans into the water, his face turned away as though the garment were contaminated. His point was evident. Wash them. She plucked them from the water sheepishly with the intent to do just that. He watched her for a moment before sighing deeply.
"I am unable to control my ki when.." he paused to consider his words. His eyes found hers, and despite their lazy, unconcerned look, her stomach turned to jelly.
He smiled. "…when overly stimulated," he finished.
"That didn't stop you, though, did it," she replied, breathily.
His grin widened. "I felt it worth the risk at the time."
His grin faded and his expression became stony. After a moment he stood.
"You will learn to control your telepathy, woman. Despite my efforts, it seems I cannot keep you out of my head, nor can I prevent being sucked into yours." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger briefly before sneering. "I will teach you mental discipline. I care not else for or about you. After you extract yourself from my mind, you will extract yourself from my presence then and thereafter. Situations like this can thus be prevented."
When she nodded numbly, he turned from her and walked around the bend to wait for her to finish washing. She was still weak and healing, and once the adrenaline of – his attentions - faded, she'd be even more exhausted and weak. It wouldn't do for her to fall into the crevice and die on her return to their.. her.. sleeping place.
Despite what he had said, he knew with excruciating certainty that even were he able to fully separate their minds, it was likely too late for his mind to recover and return to the way it had been before she had corrupted it.
He could feel her perceptions and emotions poisoning him. It frightened him – but it alarmed him more at how little he was frightened by her taint…. and the part of him that was indifferent to separating her mind from his own was growing.
