Oo21oO

"…is the song that never ends… it goes on and on my friends!..." She took a deep breath to rest her throat. Hours upon hours of singing increasingly annoying jingles had taken a toll.

Vegeta staggered. His mind had grown so accustomed to bracing against the constant barrage of her voice against his skull that he mentally fumbled in its absence. A few blissful moments of silence brought tangible relief to his exhausted body. He had thought his constitution would easily outlast that of the human's – but he had underestimated her resolve. Terrified that any sudden shift of mental state would rouse her, he wouldn't even allow himself to physically move. Somehow she would know. All he had to do was wait a little longer – blessed be! And he could be certain she was sleeping. And then maybe he could finally sleep.

His joy was short lived.

He didn't know what he had done to wake her. Desperately furious with himself, and exasperated that he was angry at himself for waking her – this was all her fault, after all! – he tried to find resolve. He had lasted days with her ridiculous singing in his head. He had almost beaten her. He would simply have to endure a little longer and the vile wench would finally give in to fatigue.

"…Henry the eighth I am.. Henry the eighth I am, I am…"

Oh, who the fuck was he kidding?

Roaring out loud, he failed to notice several aliens sharing the darkness with him as they cringed away from what could become an epic Saiyan tempter tantrum. He wasn't aware of them at all; his full attention was focused inward at his arch nemesis.

What do you want of me, you wretched, blue demon? Whatever it is, consider it yours in exchange for your SILENCE!

He didn't bother to be annoyed at her quickly buried sense of triumph that hadn't quite been buried fast enough to evade his awareness. It didn't matter. He was beyond annoyed already.

I wanted to apologize for invading your thoughts. She whispered timidly. And then must have realized the outrageousness of the comment – isn't that what she had been doing consistently for the last few days? Eager to speak her mind before he cut her off again, her thoughts jumbled out in a rush.

You were ignoring me so I did what I had to do! And it worked. You finally answered me.

He was about to slam the wall back into place, but lost the will before it ever fully came. She proved a worthy adversary. If he put up another wall, she'd simply batter at it until it crumbled again. And then sing – and sing and sing – until she drove him crazy. Again. Frustrated and wallowing in the self-disgust that came from bearing witness to his own weakness, he briefly contemplated the futility of putting out his ears. It wouldn't matter, though. She was in his head.

Maybe he could slam his head against the ship's wall and finally find peace in the form of his brains dribbling down the cold metal. He barked in laughter. That would show the insufferable little female.

Hello?

The sound of her voice almost surprised him. He had been so caught up in escaping her voice in his head that he had forgotten that her voice hadn't been in his head. He snorted in pure disgust. Insufferable bitch! Even when she's not here, she's here!

His sudden burst of energy fizzled out and he sighed in defeat.

Go away. He thought at her sullenly. It was ridiculously childish, but it was all he had. It didn't matter. It served his purpose. She'd know it was his way of giving her three seconds to say whatever the hell she wanted. It was understood that after these three seconds, she'd shut the fuck up. He mentally started counting the seconds. One….

She didn't waste time.

I thought I could make it up to you by showing you a memory of mine I wanted to keep secret from you. Um. It's something you showed interest in once, which is why I wanted to… uh.. not show you.

He could feel the weight of her embarrassment as she tried to hold it away from him. Despite himself, he was intrigued. He growled and rubbed his forehead in exasperation. And people called him a monster. Was it second one still? Or two? Bah.

What memory of yours could possibly interest me? He tried to sound spiteful and contemptuous but knew she wasn't fooled. To her, he probably sounded petulant - and even worse – as curious as she claimed he would be. Two. It was definitely second two.

Unbidden, as though it accidentally escaped her control, an image she had once briefly shown him and quickly withdrew assaulted his brain.

Long ago, she had wanted to bandage his wounds. They had been in a cage on her planet, placed there by her friends - the very cage from which they had eventually been abducted.

The image was one she had thrown at him to protect her thoughts from being breached by him. It had worked. It had worked very very well, and since that time, he had been excruciatingly curious and utterly exasperated by that curiosity. What use was it to wonder about a puzzle he couldn't solve? But….. what the fuck was it? Why did it seem to…. Intrigue him in a way that seemed to bypass conscious thought and trigger his baser instinct? Such a thing in this context served no purpose.

It was the image of her body pressed against him; her open mouth covering his own, her breath hot and wet, her tongue parting his lips so she could taste him.

His eyes popped open, but there was nothing but darkness. His body was rigid, as though prepared for attack… but his senses were so explosively erratic that he couldn't make sense of anything. What the hell! Unable to place rationality to any of this, he shoved everything away in anger.

This is no memory, human. He sneered. He wanted to yell at her but hadn't any idea how to articulate an argument. How could he when he didn't have any idea what he was fighting against?

Apparently, she had been prepared for this.

No.. but this is…

In the darkness, he lay away from the others. His side split open and bleeding against the cold metal floor of the ship's holding bay. Even in the blackness, the wound looked terrible; she had wondered how it was he remained alive. Fear and exhaustion kept her alert, and her grip on the tiny laser pistol was so tight, her fingers were numb. Thirst burned in her throat, but she was frozen in place – too terrified to move away from the alien who had ruined her life the moment he had come into it for fear he would lose his own.

Her head hurt constantly and she was cold.

She had nodded off a few times – or probably more accurate, had passed out – but always jerked awake. It was the sensation of something pushing into her brain and wrapping around the squishiness of her consciousness that kept waking her. It was invasive and unwanted, but it only hurt when she fought it. Instead, she partitioned a small part of her mind and forced the alien presence into that closed off section. It was like a canker sore in her mouth; she couldn't help but to probe it with her mental tongue and after a while, she grew accustomed to that part of her mind that was not her own. Eventually, she drew comfort from it – so much that to her surprise, when it fell away, she grew alarmed.

She launched herself at his broken body, cupping his face with her shaking fingers. She noted that he was no longer sweating, and his skin was cold and even in the darkness, pale.

"Hey! Saiyan! Wake up!" She pleaded quietly.

When he didn't respond, she gently tapped his cheek a few times and shook him.

He twitched and growled. His eyes partially opened, but the fever in them swallowed the inner glow. Instead of taking in light and reflecting it back in his heated way, his eyes seemed like frozen, bottomless black holes. Her stomach churned as a wave of nausea bubbled up from her gut. Breathing shallowly, she held his head up and, not knowing what else to do, held him close to her. Maybe she thought some of her heat would help. Maybe she needed the contact to satisfy her own human need for comfort.

Whatever the reason, it had an effect.

The moment she had wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him close, he had erupted in an explosion of movement. Somehow, she found herself suspended above him at arm's length, his grip on her biceps an inescapable trap. His eyes were wide open and peering into her own as though he could discern the flavor of her soul if he looked hard enough.

For whatever asinine reason, she wasn't afraid. She looked down at him as he looked up at her – and slowly – excruciatingly slowly - she inched her hands so that they rested on his chest, just above his wound. Somehow, she understood this moment to be pivotal. Life or death. Hers, as well as his.

"It's ok. I'm not your enemy. I won't hurt you…"

She repeated these words over and over. It wasn't the words, she knew, but her tone. Slowly, he lowered her and released her. His eyes closed.

And, suddenly her brain broke.

It was as if a damn had cracked and raw, pure, fantastic sensations burst from within. Her nerves were on fire. Everything she had ever felt; every pain, every delight, every possible combination of the two, overwhelmed her. The absolute envelopment was so complete and sudden, there was no defense. By instinct alone, she was able to ride above the onslaught. Her mind drifted above the tumult and she was able to distance herself before she drowned.

Yet still, one need above all others threatened to tear her apart.

Water. WATER.

She threw herself onto her feet before she was aware of doing so and launched herself towards the community barrel. Without notice, she shot a few of the more aggressive aliens with her pistol. The rest cowered in the wake of what must have been one hell of an expression on her face. She was no longer human – she was driven. Everything fell away as she drew in the sweet, wet liquid, and stumbling back to the Saiyan, she groped to find his face. The moment her hands found his jaw, she pulled his head towards her and pressed her mouth against his. Releasing the essence of life was the complete fulfillment of triumph. Her body rejoiced and sang when she felt his throat constrict as he swallowed.

She didn't care right then if those feelings were her own or if they were his. All that mattered was giving him water.

Tens and hundreds of times she repeated her journey to the water barrel. Though her euphoria had faded long ago, and her body had sank into pain and exhaustion, she kept on with this chore out of determination. Her mouth had grown numb after dozens of bites, and though she could feel the blood running down her lips and taste it, she was beyond caring. She was an automaton, unaware of anything but the pattern. Get up. Get water. Come back. Give water. Get up… As her body succumbed to the physical chore, her mind wandered randomly. It was like being in a dream, one where she'd only occasionally become aware of where she really was and what she was really doing.

Hours later, he was still taking water, but it was much less urgent. She almost had to coax him to drink, now. It was that or her pattern would get interrupted; she found herself being held so tightly to his chest, she had to gasp for air. Or she'd be in the process of giving water and he'd bite her but forget to let go so she'd get stuck with her mouth between his teeth.

It was during one such moment that her mind had stumbled on the silly image of what it would be like to kiss this enigmatic, dangerous alien.

And suddenly, she was.

Well, sort of.

She allowed her knotted muscles to relax. With his body beneath hers, she was weightless.

She felt her heart flutter when his tail curled more tightly around her left thigh. What she was doing was risky. It was stupid and careless…. and utterly delicious. It was the irresistible urge to lean further over a ledge on a high cliff to look down, or to wave a red flag in front of a bull. It was playing chicken when driving too recklessly. It was… chasing after dragon balls with a pre-pubescent horn-ball who used naiveté as an excuse to grope her – who also had an inclination to get her into trouble instead of getting her out of it.

With her bottom lip still between his teeth, she slowly flicked her tongue out to caress his upper lip. Somehow, her body took encouragement when his grip on her tensed. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't open them. Grinning at herself, she became more daring. Ohh, she knew Kami would get even with her at some point. Taking advantage of a mostly unconscious genocidal bad guy wasn't exactly smart, even if ethics were made moot by his own tarnished sense of right and wrong.

She probed his lip with her tongue until he, likely in a subconscious move to escape the strange contact, released her bottom lip. Free from his teeth, she was able to suck his bottom lip between her teeth. Somehow this type of contact, though still strange to him, elicited the kind of response she would have expected from him. It was almost a war between them; who would capture whose lips between their teeth. It wasn't a conventional kiss, but it was more thrilling for it. This guy was an amazing kisser and he didn't even know what a kiss was. Or that he was even kissing her.

Oh, God. She should stop this. But she'd never get the chance again. She didn't have any idea why that mattered. Kissing him awake would be out of the question. Would she even want to? Emphatically, no. Dangerous was one thing.

She wasn't masochistic.

So when his grip on her arms and around her thigh became unbearably painful, she opened her eyes to pull away.

And found that two, pitch black diamonds were staring right into her.

Her guts turned to jelly and she tried desperately to jerk away, but was held in a vice grip. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable. Maybe she wouldn't feel her head being torn off her neck.

Seconds turned to minutes, and when she only felt the methodic rhythm of his hot breath on her skin, she risked opening her eyes. He still peered at her, but his expression was mostly blank. Only the smallest hint of question was in them.

Acting on terrified impulse, she tried what had worked with him earlier.

She put her hands on his chest and spoke softly to him.

"It's ok. Go back to sleep. I'm not your enemy. You're safe…"

Slowly, his eyelids drooped, then closed. His grip took measurably longer to loosen, but when she was able to wiggle free, she did so with painful care. Extracting herself from his tail was too much and she gave up and collapsed on her side, too weary to continue.

Minutes – maybe hours later – she smiled in the darkness. She couldn't have wished for a more terrifying, thrilling adventure. But dear God, she'd never do it again.

Bulma pulled away and allowed Vegeta to recover from her memory. Truthfully, she had no idea how he'd react to her invasion.. but when he had inadvertently shared a memory of his involving her, it had been deeply unsettling for him. Though they both knew it wasn't her fault she had seen his memory, she felt in order to put them on even ground once more, she had to even the score. Sure, in her memory, she had kissed him. It was a physical violation – but sexual intent hadn't really been there. Much. In his memory, there hadn't been any physical contact - but the sexual intent, for as brief of an insight into the memory as she had seen – was enough to have been painful. How had he not ripped her apart?

She hadn't bothered taking offense. How could she when, from his perspective, raping her would have been a service to her? His senses had told him she was in estrus. Did that not make it his duty to comply with the needs of her body? To deny himself – to deny HER – of this need was what was incredible. No. Instead of being offended at her almost rape, she was incensed that he hadn't. She knew she was an imbecile for thinking this way. It wasn't because she was a disgusting human that he had held back. It was because he hadn't wanted to kill her.

It had taken his memory to understand all of this. Before that little trip into his brain, she had simply believed that incident near the pond to be a consequence of his animal nature and nothing more. She had been grateful he hadn't forced himself on her – even moreso when she learned the act would have killed her. Only now she understood just how great a feat it had been for him to resist.

How could she possibly ignore that knowledge? She couldn't, even if knowing was humiliating for him. So, she had to repay him by giving him equally damning knowledge. She didn't have anything else to give him.

And when she had decided what she was going to do to get back into his good graces, she had been thunderstruck. Not with her decision to totally and willingly embarrass herself – but because of her motivation to do so. For whatever reason, it was more important to make him feel better, even though it wasn't her fault that he felt exposed.

Whatever. She had done it. Now she had to wait to see what his reaction –

Vegeta's projection popped into her mind's eye, millimeters away from where she stood, and peered intently at her. He was getting good at forcing her to physically manifest at a whim. The little shit was a fast learner.

She stepped backwards to put space between them, and he immediately stepped forward to close the gap. More than a little nervous, she had to concentrate to prevent any nervous ticks. She forced herself to look him in the eye, and squeezed her hands into fists so she wouldn't be tempted to twiddle her thumbs or twist her fingers together. She cleared her throat – it wouldn't do to stutter or sound pitiful.

"What?"

He crossed his arms and tilted his head and continued to stare at her. He said nothing.

She frowned and was about to yell at him – randomly because, hell, what else was she going to do to cover her nuclear embarrassment? Taking in a breath to prepare for a verbal barrage, she was interrupted.

"Do it again." He said simply.

The air rushed out of her lungs in a whoosh and her jaw dropped open.

"Huh?" Was all she could manage.

He looked irritated.

"The first image was not a memory. The second was, by definition, a memory – but one from a perspective with which I cannot relate –"

He peered at her in contemptuous accusation – like her humanity was too convoluted to adequately filter the memory to Saiyan standards.

He stood taller as he backed away. She hadn't realized he had been that close. It didn't matter. He seemed to look down his nose from wherever he stood. The way he used words as weapons just made it worse.

"So - I require that you.. do it again."

Under the arrogant tone, she thought she could detect a bit of uncertainty in his voice. It was almost enough to cover the insane curiosity that raged under the surface.

She thought she had suffered Kami's revenge-karma when she survived Vegeta's almost-rape. Wow, had she been wrong. If Kami had been on his look out, rolling around laughing before, the little green lemon was probably hacking out snot globlettes as he wheezed for air around thunderous guffaws, now. What a dick.

Well. Um. She could do this.

She took a deep breath, took a step forward and tilted her head back – then made the mistake of looking from his lips to his eyes.

His very wide-awake, fully aware eyes.

And she chickened out.

Spluttering, she stepped back and rubbed her arms as though chilled.

"I can't. That's not just a thing you can pull out of your ass, you know?"

He sneered. "But it is when one participant is unable to participate?"

She cringed. He was soooo right. But – BUT! He had no idea what he was asking her – well, maybe he did. Maybe this was sick payback. Yet, looking at him sideways from the corner of an eye, she could see no mockery. He was truly inquisitive and incensed that she would withhold information that was so seemingly simple to share. Why was it so difficult? What was the meaning behind such an act that made it such a task to disclose? ….Was she so hesitant because she did not feel he was worthy of the information?

It was this last revelation that destroyed her resolve. She sighed heavily.

"Ok." Looking around hastily, she added, "but not here. This is too…. Not in the mood. Every time we're in your head, the scenery is entirely too sterile."

When he frowned at her, she shrugged a shoulder. It was true! They always ended up in a little white room. All it was missing were padded walls…

Moments later, they were certainly somewhere else. He looked around the room in confusion.

"This place presents a mood?" Asked the Saiyan, taking in the room with uncensored, albeit skeptical interest.

She smacked a hand over her face to hide the inevitable blush. It was her childhood room, complete with pink walls, posters of Shenron, stuffed animals from various mythical backgrounds, and a gigantic bed with purple satin sheets. Her room was a disaster. Clothes were thrown everywhere, wrappers, electronics, magazines…. Could it have been any worse? She asked Kami. Sure, she was a horny teenager, but this isn't exactly what she meant by 'mood.' She supposed her backwards brain associated her bedroom with the first thoughts of sex she'd ever really had. After all, that's where she had – well. It didn't matter.

"Um. Sort of. But not exactly what I was looking for.."

She snatched a pair of red ruffle panties from his hands before he did anything – like bury his face in them.

And with that thought, they found themselves in the cave with the rock pool. At least her pee-jeans were nowhere in sight and the Saiyan would have to forgo smelling them. But - she was naked again in the center of the pond. Vegeta crouched on the balls of his feet on a rock outcropping, watching her. He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't bother looking around; he knew where they were.

He didn't say anything this time; he simply raised an eyebrow as if to ask, "here?"

She cleared her throat as she hid her girly bits under crossed arms. When they had last been here, she hadn't been the slightest bit shy and had covered herself for altogether different reasons. Now… it just seemed awkward. Kissing him would be hard enough. Being naked while kissing him was.. out of the question.

"We're getting closer, but still not quite." She responded to his unasked question.

He scowled and with speed beyond the capabilities of her senses to detect, he was standing inches in front of her. Reaching purposefully out to grasp her arm, she was momentarily frightened (was she?) that he was about to finish what he had started the last time they had been in this cave together. He narrowed his eyes to indicate he had caught that thought but wouldn't remark.

Instead –

Suddenly they were in her magical place. She knew she hadn't brought them here, so that must mean it was his idea. How he had been able to so perfectly replicate her special place was beyond fantastic. He had it down to the exact detail. She hadn't known he had been that attentive…

Dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees. A soft, golden breeze caressed her skin and the scent of lilies hung thick in the air. Everything shimmered. It was warm and lazy and the hum of sleepy drunkenness buzzed in her ears like she was a fat cat napping in the summer sun. It was..

"Perfect," she whispered.

Without thought, she stepped forward and placed her hands delicately on his chest. She knew he was uncertain by the way he balked, but in the simple act of allowing her to stand so near him she also knew him to be captivated. He followed her movements with his eyes, the tip of his tail slowly swishing back and forth near his calves. As she walked her fingers over his clavicles and around his neck, she stood on her toes, raised her head, and tugged at his shoulders so that he would meet her half way. His eyebrows creased, but after a long moment, he lowered his head so that their noses touched.

In utter awe, she drank him in. It was dizzying and frightening and the world narrowed as her senses heightened. She almost had to step away – make space between them so her heart wouldn't gallop out of her chest. Her fear – fear? - was a cutting edge. This wasn't real. This could never happen..

But…

Her fingers left the back of his neck to caress the softness of his face. She touched the ridge of his cheekbone with the tips of her fingers, and traced the curve of an eyebrow with the other. He leaned into her touch and his eyes fluttered shut. She took the opportunity to cup his face in her hands and pull him towards her so she could kiss his eyelids. First one, then the other… then his forehead, his cheeks, his jawline.

When she pulled away, she realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out slowly and only then noticed how tightly his tail was wrapped around her waist. She smiled softly and he must have sensed her amusement because his eyes opened. He looked peaceful without an expression on his face, and the sunlight bathed him in a golden glow. It almost looked like the sunlight were radiating from him, and not from somewhere unseen through the canopy of leaves.

She ran her fingers through his hair until his head was cradled in her hands –

- and she leapt from the safety of having the ground beneath her feet.

One moment she was wide eyed and staring at him and the next, her lips were on his. She didn't remember how it had happened. She didn't care.

It was as if Vegeta had known when she would take the plunge and he was there to catch her as she fell. He hesitated only a fraction of a moment before his own lips parted to invite her in. Her blood rushed in her ears and pounded the inside of her eyelids and every nerve fired all at once. She opened her mouth when his tongue probed her lips, and helped him enter by sucking it in. Whereas before she had been the aggressor, now he took control. He hadn't bitten her. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed by that or not. It was so him, and yet… he was being gentle. He wasn't frenzied or rushed.

It wasn't primal or animalistic. It wasn't instinctual. It was.. a real kiss.

Abruptly, she broke away, trying to find herself amidst the chaos of her emotions. Her intent had been to show him, not to lose herself in it.

Shaking her head to dislodge the real desire for him to throw her on the ground and show her a few things Saiyan, she tried to back away. When she failed to move, she opened her eyes – and found she was completely engulfed in the arms of the Saiyan she was trying to escape. Realizing she was trapped, she froze with her hands propped against his chest, as if she were shielding herself from his proximity. Eventually, he'd let go. He never liked to be in close contact for long.

But… as she waited and realized that nothing was happening, her eyes flicked up and into his. She looked down again, but that glimpse had been long enough to take him in. He seemed contemplative and – sad - in a way.

Free from the distain she had expected from him, she relaxed in his embrace and her hands on his chest became an anchor holding them together instead of a barrier keeping them apart.

Slowly, he dropped his arms. It took longer for his tail to let go. And yet, he still didn't move away, which surprised her. Before she could stop herself, she looked up into his eyes once more. His face was expressionless again, and instead of sadness, she saw something intense she couldn't describe. It was completely alien and focused on her, as though he were waiting for her to wave a hand and fix the wrongness of the universe. It should have scared her, but she long ago accepted that she just couldn't fear this man. At least, not in the way she should..

She dropped her hands and they stood facing each other. After a few moments, he nodded slowly.

"I… understand," he whispered.

And then he was gone.

She stood there for a long while after, staring into the empty space where he had been. He understood? What did he understand? What was it he had wanted to understand in the first place? How did he understand it when she had no fucking clue what the hell had just happened? And why the hell was she more afraid of him now than she had ever been before?

Bulma left the glittering forest and woke up to the dingy cave. Vegeta was on his way to the last mission before returning here. The next time they spoke – God, tomorrow? – he'd be landing on a random planet somewhere. Would he be weird? Probably not. Would she be weird? Probably. She just had to focus. Eventually, things would go back to normal. They'd sorta hate but respect each other. They'd be begrudging but badass partners until they found a way to escape. They'd go their own ways.

Maybe they'd run across each other in the battle against Freeza, but probably not. They fought in different ways, and it was only a strange thing that brought them together in a way that their differences benefited each other. Most likely, after they escaped this place, they'd never see each other again.

She felt relieved..

But something buried deep within her ached.

It didn't matter. She'd get over the empty spot in her brain that used to be his. She'd wonder about him – probably a hell of a lot more than she'd like – but she knew he'd be happy. All he had ever wanted was to be free.

AN: My humble apologies for the wait on this. I just got back from Afghanistan and I've been literally bouncing from state to state (5 of them) non-stop for the past 2 months trying to get my shit back together. Big changes in the military coming up and somehow I got stuck facilitating a huge chunk of it for my unit. I'll be home (yay!) for the first time for longer than a week at the end of the month (on my birthday!) I have no idea where I'll be sent to next, or how long I'll be there. I'll keep writing because this is what keeps me sane. This chapter was meant to include Vegeta's mission on the planet, but I found a perfect stopping point and I didn't want this chapter to be a billion pages long.

The next chapter will bring a choice for Vegeta... And a sacrifice for Bulma. And finally an answer to what the hell happened to her friends on Earth?