_____________________________Chapter 1________________________________

Vegeta couldn’t feel his body anymore. He felt only power. He knew, he just knew, that he was very close to becoming a super Sayan, that he could do it right now, at that moment, if he only knew how to trigger it. Kakarot said it was anger that had made him become one. He could summon enough rage if he thought about freezer. That was no problem. But he just didn’t want to be angry. He’d just made a huge step forward, and he wanted to keep that overwhelming joy and pride and sense of power he felt that moment. There was no room in him for anger right now. He would do it tomorrow. Only he couldn’t stop training. It was so good. He was so good. He could train for ever. He flowed from one motion to the next in perfect harmony. The gravity controller was buzzing, straining to maintain a 300 G gravity- three hundred times that of the earth- thirty time that of Planet Vegeta- the highest it could produce. And in that unbearable, fatal environment, at least for anybody but himself and maybe fucking Kakarot, he flowed from one stance to the next, his limbs unfeeling for the pain, his mind numb, unaware of his own movements.

She stirred in the cookpot with a big metal spoon while her mind wandered beyond the kitchen. She felt lonely. Her parents were gone for business, though she suspected that, had it not been a trip to the Southern Island, she would have been asked to go in their place. Strange that they went together… She guessed her father had planned it otherwise, but her mother had asked to go and the call girl who certainly was hired already would have to stay where she were. Would she and Yamucha become like that with time? She snarled in disgust at the saucepan. It was over for good this time. They didn’t love each other anymore. Otherwise he would not cheat on her like that, and she would mind a little more. She wasn’t hurt anymore by his other dates. Only, she felt so alone without him. She needed his strong arms holding her, and his body and his warmth. It drove her crazy not having seen him for two weeks now, to the point that she sometimes stared at other men without awareness. She feared that she would end up going back to him, like she had so many times before, just to have someone.

She focused again on the cookpot. It wasn’t boiling, although she had put it on the flames a while ago. She tasted. The food was cold. She had forgotten to turn it on. She laughed to herself, carelessly threw the spoon, which landed in the sink with a clang of metal, and went out to the living room. She didn’t feel like cooking, and if the bloody Prince Vegeta wanted to eat, he would cook himself. She was no slave of his, and she and her family were kind enough to have welcomed him two years ago. It seemed to elude him that he could do something in return for their hospitality, say thanks for example.

She sat in the couch and gnashed her teeth for a while, then glanced at the large clock on the wall opposite her, then jumped. TEN o’clock? She relaxed. He just hadn’t finished training yet, and it was as well for her, as she didn’t have the food ready. She wouldn’t make it for him, of course, he could go to hell, but she felt a little hungry herself, so she could as well cook for both of them.

How come he wasn’t over yet, though? He’d started at 6 a.m and had only stopped for a snack –which he didn’t even thank me for preparing, she thought with a surge of anger. She’d call him when it would be ready.

It was twenty to eleven, and Vegeta still hadn’t come. She stopped in front of the Gravity Room’s door, and pushed the “call” button. Waited. Pushed again. Nobody answered. He might have gone to bed already, she thought. But decided to check anyway, and opened the door, which automatically annihilated the artificial gravity. She wouldn’t survive if she stepped in a tenth of what he trained in, she thought with a slight surge of admiration. I’m not going to admire this asocial ape who can’t even make his on food for himself Wouldn’t it be easier if Goku had killed him like he deserved. When she stepped through the threshold, she stooped dead, then ran to the still shape of Vegeta, and kneeling next to him, put a hand across his bare chest. It rose and fell slowly, barely, with a wheezing sound. She opened the tap that was an arm’s length away, attached to the wide column at the center of the gravity room, and splashed water on his face, that rolled down his sharp features. She felt panicked-stricken. Oh, God, I wished him dead and now it’s gonna be my fault. She refreshed his neck with her wet hands, slapped him slightly, then stronger. “Wake up, you fucker, I’m not gonna let you die on me like that!! I swear if you do I’ll kill you myself!” He arched his back and gasped for breath, sitting up, coughing. “And how are you going to do that, Woman?” he asked, wheezing, with a grimacing smirk. He raised his arms to his head, touching a wound that was pouring blood down his face, laughed. “What are you laughing at?” asked Bulma, her heart pounding as if it wanted to make up for all the beats it had skipped while he was unconscious “I can’t see what is funny in emptying oneself from one’s blood”. Vegeta opened his mouth, then fell back, fainting, his head pounding hard on the stone floor. Bulma gave a skweak. She turned her head around her, looking for help, but she was alone. She sat across him and shook him, screaming something she wasn’t aware of. She would not lose him, she had promised. His head dangled back and forth.” Stop that… Stop that, you fool female”, she faintly heard. She gently put his head back on the floor. “I’m gonna get some help. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna get you out of…” A frown appeared on his face, and his lips moved: “…shut up, you fool.” Seeing that she was quiet, his eyes locked on hers, like someone holding to reality with all his might : “…Got senzu… Cupboard… Please.”

This last word seemed to wake her up, as if she had been dumped in a bucket of cold water. If he said that, it meant he was going to die. She sprung to her feet – What cupboard?- then dashed to open every door on the column. After what seemed like an eternity, she found a small purse that contained grains of something she had never seen before. But they had told her what senzus were. It could save you from any wound, even if there was no hope left.

Vegeta was barely conscious of Bulma’s body over his, trying to open his mouth. She gripped his broken nose. He gasped for breath, swallowed and… He blinked to see the world returning rapidly to its normal appearance. Above him was the face of a beautiful woman, her luminous blue hair cascading on his shoulders, her eyes watery and wide open. He felt her weight across him, her skin brushing his torn training suit. He didn’t know why he couldn’t speak what he had in mind –she so often said I could thank her. But I never thanked anyone in my life-, or why his breath suddenly seemed not to obey him, coming too fast and too shallow. She brushed his mouth with her thumb, and smiled. “Just on time, wasn’t I?” There seemed to be something else to thet question, something he should puzzle out, but he couldn’t find out what the hell that could be. Or maybe he was imagining things. “Yes”, he breathed, and repeated, more steadily : “Yes, you were”. Why didn’t he feel like before? He had taken a senzu –he should be as strong as ever, even stronger, only he seemed not to control himself as usual. Maybe I’ve got something broken the senzu cannot heal. Suddenly this feeling increased. His heart beat faster; his breath came even more ragged, his body felt numb, as Bulma leaned closer. Is she doing that to me? But how? Stop that now, woman…But he couldn’t say anything.

She couldn’t think. A remote part of her was yelling at her that she was crazy, that she was only missing Yamcha too badly but her body kept on, her head leaning closer to Vegeta’s slightly opened mouth, her back arching so that her breasts came in touch with his hard chest, and her hips rubbed him.

She had closed her eyes, so big from this distance, and her lips came in contact with his. He felt his heart lurch in his chest. He still couldn’t move, only to open and close his lips on hers. What the hell is she doing to me? She opened her eyes and broke the contact, looking at him with eyes that were at once wide open and tilted. He knew his expression mirrored hers. Then he felt her hair and neck against his palm, and drew himself up to her, or her to him.

His tongue slowly searched hers, backing from time to time as if burned, and she felt something hard between her legs. She remembered that she wore a skirt. Her right leg fell to his side. He was rising, and held her tight, his left hand in her hair, his right passed under her thigh, holding her left leg above his hip. Against her knee she felt his burning skin, drawn tight over his bare chest. They were almost vertical now, hovering above the floor, and he had started to ondulate against her, still holding her, his sex brushing hers through their thin clothes, their mouths working savagely against each other. She felt her back touching the column. Suddenly something pulled at her, she heard a tearing noise and felt his hard torso against her bare skin. He had stopped kissing her and was looking at her, grinning. His hand was slightly crushing her breast. At that moment, she was scared.

Suddenly her eyes widened and the charm, or whatever she was doing, broke. She went stiff in his arms, a look of fear on her face. Suddenly she pushed back from him feebly, but with what he thought was all her might. Surprised to come back to his senses, he let her go, and she fell on the floor, a few feet below, with a weak cry of pain. She looked up at him, apparently not knowing what to say. He talked, still slightly out of breath : “What did you do to me, Woman?” She sat looking up at him with a disbelieving look on her face. “ Answer me! What did you do? Well, apparently you’re afraid to talk, so I’ll just say that : if you ever try to fool me again with some witch’s trick or some poison or machinery or whatever it was you did, I’ll…” He couldn’t say it. He imagined himself ripping her head off, like in the old times – it would be so easy, she was so fragile- and he wanted to vomit.

“But…”, she started.

- Anyway I’m leaving. I’ll go to a quieter place. If you always come down on me like this when I’m training, how do you think I can focus?” He felt his anger swell inside him with every word he said. He didn’t even know why he bothered to talk. He could leave right this minute.

- WHAT? And where would you be right now if I hadn’t come down on you like that today? How dare you…”she shouted “Can’t you be grateful for once? We fed you, we gave you a room, we gave you a training room, and do you know the time we spent on it, and repairing it, and everything you wanted us to add we did, so that Mr Sayan Prince could be pleased with his human slaves. And you never thanked us, never were even polite. You act like everyone owes you something. Well, good riddance if you go! Just go, and if I don’t ever see you again, you bet I’ll be better off! I…”

With that she cut off, seeing him glaring at her. He looked at her a moment, so she would calm down, with that same look – it was for her own good, this girl needed to learn some respect- her eyes were wide and shiny and her lips were trembling. He remembered the touch of them as she… He flew off as fast as he could in these corridors, out under the moon, the full moon that he could now look at without danger, but still avoided. An old habit. But he didn’t even think of it as he flew away from Bulma.

After he had left, she sat still for a moment, frightened by what she had done, and how good it had felt. It couldn’t be… With a murderer, a man who had killed entire populations just to sell their planets. Who would have killed her, had he not been stopped by Goku. She couldn’t help herself. She had felt soo…Stop that. Anyway he hadn’t looked pleased. For a moment she had thought he liked… Then she realised what he had just said to her. Whatever it was I did. He hadn’t… He never… A broad smile illuminated her face, and she felt like giggling. The Prince of all Sayans has never been with a woman.