Nobody Gives What He Does Not Have

Are you 18 or older? This story has naughty bits in it...adult men & women rubbing their naughty bits together!!! If you're too young, go away! Otherwise, read on...


"Nemo dat quod non habet." ["Nobody gives what he does not have." (Latin)]

***

      Vegeta had slept in. The sun had long risen and most of the morning was gone, but he knew he needed a rest, anyway, however brief, so he did not grumble about it. It was a beautiful day in late spring, and Vegeta was still intensely motivated to train.

Looking for a drink, and wearing just the sweatpants he had slept in, he went into the kitchen. He anticipated having to make his own lunch today, although he admittedly had no idea how to do it. Dr. & Mrs. Briefs, his hosts and Bulma's parents, had indulged themselves with yet another trip to some exotic location, something they did often as they were well-to-do and nearly retired. Bulma was long gone, out on a date with Yamucha to a fair. She had been so excited, and had told Vegeta the day before that he would be on his own for possibly dinner as well. He wasn't too happy, but not really about the meals. He would just skip them if he had to. It was seeing Bulma so happy about her date with Yamucha that kept playing through his mind.

      He was immensely surprised, then, to find Bulma sitting on the kitchen floor, her back against the stove, and a grimace on her face. "Woman, what are you doing there?"

      A tear rolled down her face along the path where others had dried. Vegeta crouched down to be near her. "That loser was supposed to be here four hours ago," she seethed, slapping a kitchen towel against the stove in disgust, "and he hasn't called or anything."

      Vegeta watched her quietly, unsure of what to say.

Bulma dried her eyes with the back of her hand and sighed. "Well, it's definite now. Yamucha and I are never going to be married. I've known him for years. It's better to not be married than to be married to THAT!" She threw the towel as if it was a rock and she had taken aim on Yamucha from a few feet away.

      Vegeta nodded, noting her choice of words. "It is better to be alone."

      Bulma looked at Vegeta, and smiled weakly. "I guess so."

      "For you it is."

      "What about you?" she asked.

      "What about me?"

      "Is it better for you to be alone?"

      "I don't know," he answered. "I've never been any other way."

      She was suddenly distracted by a knock at the door. "I'll get it," Vegeta said.

      Bulma smirked in spite of herself; if she didn't know better, Vegeta seemed a bit annoyed. She crept up behind him while he pulled open the front door.

      Yamucha was on the other side, dressed casually in sneakers, jeans, and a plaid shirt. He apparently had not expected to see Vegeta at the door, because he paled a shade when he saw the saiyans scowling countenance.

"Oh, um, Vegeta! Hi," Yamucha stammered. Vegeta said nothing, but continued to watch the young man fumble for words. "Where's Bulma?"

      "I'm right here," she said from her place behind Vegeta.

      "Oh, Bulma," Yamucha said, looking carefully past the saiyan. "Hey, are you ready to go?"

      "I've BEEN ready," she replied. "Hours ago. We already missed what I wanted to go see, so it really doesn't matter anymore." Bulma crossed her arms in anger. "And it doesn't matter anyway," she added, "since I won't be going out with you anymore."

      "Oh, you won't?" Yamucha asked. He laughed in nervousness. "And why is that?"

      "Because," she said, leaning into Vegeta and twining an arm around his. "I found someone else."

      Vegeta's eyes turned sharply her way as Yamucha's mouth literally dropped wide open. "Are--are you kidding, Bulma?" Yamucha said.

      "Why would she be kidding?!" Vegeta said.

      "Hey, man, take it easy," Yamucha answered. "I'm just--It's just that I care about her..."

      "No," Vegeta replied. "Do not lie. If you cared, you would have been here four hours ago."

      Bulma smiled. "Exactly," she added. Reaching up, she turned Vegeta's head to face her, and she kissed him forcefully on the mouth. Vegeta did not stop her, and his cheeks were slightly red when she finally let him go. As they kissed, Yamucha's lips cringed into a horrible rictus. "Now, you see?" Bulma said when they had finished. "It's over between you and me, for good this time!"

      Yamucha nodded, and frowned suddenly. "Well, alright, Bulma, if that's how you want it."

      "That's how it is," Vegeta snarled.

      "Whatever," Yamucha replied and stormed off, jumping into his hover car to fly away with a roar of its engines.

      Bulma watched him go, and bounced up and down with glee once he was out of sight. "Oh, Thank you, Vegeta, that was great!"

      "If you liked it that much, we can do it again," he said.

      She blinked at him. "Huh?" Bulma laughed. "Oh, no, that's not what I mean... I mean, that was a great stunt! We sure fooled him!"

      It was Vegeta's turn to blink. "Fooled...?"

      Bulma rolled her eyes. "Yamucha, of course!" She smiled widely, obviously pleased with herself. "Whoa, this'll be great! He was so jealous!"

      Vegeta smiled, and took her in his arms again. "Of course he was. You are a beautiful woman."

      Bulma frowned. "Oh, stop it now," she said, pulling out of his arms. "He's long gone. But it worked great! Now maybe he'll appreciate me. Thanks, Vegeta!" Bulma kissed him on the cheek in gratitude.

      Vegeta scowled in reply. He walked past the glowing Bulma and outside, into the back yard and through the corporation compound to the gravity chamber where he trained daily. He felt a sudden, strong desire to destroy something, and the bots Dr. Briefs had created to challenge him would do nicely.

      When he returned to the kitchen for dinner, Vegeta saw that Bulma had a visitor - Kuririn sat on a kitchen chair to chat with her as she worked to make their meal. Vegeta didn't say anything to either of them, just walked past them, scanned them quickly out of the corner of his eye, then continued up the stairs.

      "Did you notice Vegeta didn't have any shoes on?" Kuririn asked Bulma once he was sure the saiyan had gone upstairs. Shortly after, they could hear the water run through the pipes to the shower on the floor above them. "No shirt, either, for that matter."

      "Well, I'm not surprised since he didn't put one on this morning."

      "Hmm. That doesn't sound like Vegeta," Kuririn said. He didn't really care for the saiyan, but he knew that Bulma did, or seemed to sometimes on some level.

      "He really helped me out this morning, though!" she beamed as she turned over a pork chop she was frying. "Did I tell you what happened with Yamucha?"

      "No," Kuririn gasped, wondering how the combination of Vegeta and Yamucha could have made Bulma so happy. "What happened?"

      "I told you Yamucha was like four hours late today coming to get me. So, when Yamucha finally came by, Vegeta made out like he was my boyfriend. It was a scream!"

      "Vegeta did that?" Kuririn asked. "I'm kinda shocked. Vegeta doesn't seem like the playful type."

      "Oh, well, I didn't really plan it," she continued, "but while he was standing there in the doorway, talking to Yamucha, I just leaned over and kissed him. It was great!"

      "Oh, like, a peck on the cheek?"

      "No, no, I really planted one on him!" She took the cooked pork chop out of the pan and put it on a plate, then began to make gravy. She giggled. "You should have seen Yamucha's face."

      Kuririn didn't laugh. In fact, he looked stunned. He heard the water stop upstairs and asked, "How did Vegeta react?"

      "Oh, well, I don't know," she said. "He just left after I thanked him for playing along. I guess he must have gone out to train, since he just came back now."

      Kuririn blinked in disbelief. "Um, Bulma, are you sure that was such a good idea?"

      "What, the joke?"

      "Well, sorta. The kiss, I mean."

      "What do you mean?"

      "Well," he said, "I wouldn't really like it if some girl kissed me and then I found out it was only a joke. I mean, that would be sort of upsetting to me."

      "Oh, oh, I'm sure he knew it was a joke!"

      "Are you sure?"

      "Well - " Bulma hesitated as she poured out the gravy into a boat. "Well, not - not definitely sure."

      "Hmm. Doesn't sound good." Kuririn saw Bulma look past him, and he turned in his chair to see Vegeta standing behind him, his arms crossed, and a sullen look on his face. "Hey, Vegeta," he said.

      Vegeta did not reply.

      "Um, I better be going now," Kuririn said. "Thanks for the talk, Bulma. See you around, Vegeta."

~~~

      After Kuririn left, neither Bulma nor Vegeta said anything until she had finished pouring out the gravy and set it on the table beside their set places. "Dinner is ready. You can sit down," Bulma said.

      Vegeta did as he was told. Bulma avoided directly looking at the saiyan...for some reason, now, she felt self-conscious. She put the food on their plates, sat down, and began to eat. Vegeta only sat at his place, staring, unseeing, into his food. "I am going to leave tomorrow," he said, "and I will need to take one of the shuttles."

      Bulma stopped chewing the food in her mouth and swallowed it quickly. "Leave?" she asked.

      He turned to look at her sharply while she gazed wide-eyed back at him. "Yes. It is impossible to train here."

      "Impossible?" she stammered. "But - but I thought you enjoyed the gravity chaamber. My father worked hard on it for you."

      "It is not meeting my needs," he explained. "It is not enough, somehow..." He stared back into his food again.

      Bulma did not say anything for long moments and continued to eat. Then Vegeta got up from the table. "Wait!" she said. "Wait, you didn't eat anything."

      He went upstairs. In the bathroom, he plugged the sink drain with a stopper and filled it halfway with warm water. He needed to calm himself, and the water might help. She had acted as if nothing at all had happened; she didn't even apologize for using him in one of her silly mating games. That made Vegeta furious. He could not concentrate anymore for long with the attractive female around, and no matter how hard he worked, his goal of becoming a super saiyan seemed more and more elusive with each passing day. Was he trying to force something into being that was never meant to be?

      A few moments later, after some deliberating, Bulma followed him. She found him in the bathroom, washing his face with some water he'd poured into the sink. He held some water in his cupped hands and was gazing into it for a long moment as Bulma came into the room. "Vegeta," she asked, "is something wrong?" She wanted to put a hand on him in comfort, but she worried that he would not like it, and so she did nothing. He let the water go and dried his face in a nearby towel.

      "I was just thinking," he said.

      "Vegeta, if this has to do with this morning, I'm sorry," Bulma told him.

      He glanced at her as if she had cursed at him. "I don't know what you are talking about," he replied. He turned to face her. "But you are not as important as you seem to think." He walked quickly out of the room into his bedroom, and then he closed the door.

      The next morning, Vegeta left very early. Bulma had gotten up at about 6AM, hoping to help him prepare for his journey, but by then he was already gone. It was strange not having him around, even though he had not been in the house much of the time. It was the knowing that he was gone that hurt Bulma the most, and the way in which he had gone. She remembered the kiss they had shared and had hoped that it could have been the start of something more, but he never brought it up again, so she had never made more out of it than a joke. Had she been too cool about it? Should she have told him how she really felt? No, Bulma thought. That would have only made them both uncomfortable. And he would have left anyway, like he did now, seeking whatever it was he wanted out of life, and nothing would have come of it, anyway.

~~~

      Sometime later, on an uncharted planet far away, Vegeta had resumed his training. The planet was a desolate ball of earth, no rain, no wind, only unbearable temperatures and a weak atmosphere. He hadn't eaten in days, and he had brought no food, but he didn't care. This was his last chance to reach his goal; he couldn't take any more humiliation. He had done all he could--trained in extreme gravity, starved himself, pushed himself to the edge of sanity, but it still wouldn't come. Why wouldn't it come? He never in his wildest dreams had imagined that he could have become as strong as he had already, and if he did not succeed here, it would have to be enough. Another day passed, another day of steady training. As night began to fall, it was all he could do to reach his shuttle and not collapse from exhaustion.

      And suddenly, the tiny world around him became engulfed in shadow.

      Looking up, he saw it, the huge asteroid that was nearly the same size as the little planet on which he stood. There was nothing he could do about it--he had no strength left to destroy it, he could barely keep standing as it was. He fell to his knees, and then to his hands on the soft dust of the planet's surface.

      So this was how it was to end, now that everything had been taken from him, he thought. He had nothing left in life, nothing at all except this one goal that had been keeping him going. He had had no real time to consider it, but that was why he had been training so hard--it was the only thing left. Everything he knew was gone. His family was gone, his father, their race, even their entire planet. Even Freeza, who had kidnapped Vegeta and enslaved him as a child had been destroyed - and not by Vegeta's own hand as he had hoped but by that of his rival, Kakarrot. And when Vegeta had come to Earth, there had been nothing for him there, either. No one wanted him, the female certainly did not want him, and he was even more alone than he had been all those years as a slave to Freeza. And his one goal, his only reason for living, which seemed to have been killing him at the same time, now had led him to his doom.

      Vegeta gave up. This was the end, and the unfairness of it all made his heart ache until he thought it would burst. He looked up to the sky where the asteroid fell and stood to meet it. He clenched his fists and cried out against the ultimate wrong that was being done to him in his most desolate moment, in the emptiest moment of his life.

      And that was when it happened.

      Vegeta could feel the power coursing within him; a power that almost seemed to come from outside of himself, so unfamiliar was he with the emotions of infinite despair that swirled within his mind and heart. It surged and he could feel it imbuing his tired body with new life, but it was a soulless type of feeling, the feeling of knowing your untimely death was coming and accepting it, a bizarre fusion of peace and contemptuous hate. It was nothing like he had ever felt before and was almost impossible for him to explain to anyone after that. But it gave him incredible strength, it freed him from his pain, made him rise above it like a phoenix, and in one swift movement, he unleashed a wild cry and a blast at the asteroid, easily smashing it into a shower of harmless powder which hung in the poor atmosphere to shine luminously in the light of the setting sun.

      He had done it. He had become a super Saiyajin.

~~~

      Bulma couldn't sleep even though it had to be past midnight. Vegeta had been gone for almost two weeks, but it seemed that a moment didn't pass without her thoughts going out to him, wherever he was now. Would he ever return?

      "Of course he'll return," Bulma thought. "Just like Goku did. Vegeta couldn't stay away for long."

      Or could he? He didn't need her; and she had probably hurt him with her foolish little stunt meant to antagonize Yamucha. In fact, Yamucha, sure he had been set up, had come back a few days later in order to "forgive" her for her "joke". But she didn't want him. Only one kiss kept returning to her mind to make her blush as if she had just felt it, only one man kept entering her thoughts uninvited:

      Vegeta.

      A soft glow had entered her bedroom from the crack where her drawn curtains met. And then she heard it; someone was shouting from a distance outside. Listening carefully, she could barely make it out:

      "Woman! Woman, come out here! I have something to show you."

      Bulma knew immediately who that someone was. She ran to the window and, pulling back the curtains, opened it. "Vegeta!" she called back. She could see him hovering in the air a good distance away from her home, above the gravity chamber in the Capsule Corp compound. "Vegeta, what do you want?"

      "I want to show you something, woman," he said with a smile that was more of a smirk. "I want to show you--THIS!"

      His last words erupted into a roar while Bulma shielded her eyes against Vegeta's brightness. He powered up before her in the moonlight, and the compound below became as bright as day. Bulma squinted into the wind and dust kicked up from the transformation which evolved Vegeta for her into a tiny sun of brilliance in the sky. Moments later, his brightness subdued so that she could look into it, Bulma saw that Vegeta was engulfed in white flames that licked his body but did not burn him, and his wild hair was bleached magically, undulating in the intensity he generated. "Look, woman," he said. "What do you see?"

      Bulma was speechless. She didn't really understand what was happening, even though she had a general idea of the energy a saiyan could generate. Bulma felt her heart pound and she blushed deeply. She didn't know what to say.

      He came to her, floating quickly and easily toward her, and paused just outside of her window. The curtains beat lazily about Bulma like two heavy flags, and her own hair blew back slightly in the movement his energy gave to the air around it. She trembled; it was like standing in front of a furnace. "I have done it, Bulma!" Vegeta announced. "I have become a super saiyan." She looked into his eyes; they had become a deep aqua-green. Feeling unusually self-conscious, Bulma bowed her head to hide her flushed cheeks and shield herself from his glory. She fell to her knees.

      Vegeta powered down almost immediately. The room and the world outside became as quiet and dim as it had been before, and the moon was once again ruler of the night. He stepped in through the open window and stood in front of her. She peeked up at him, and he was silently looking down at her, his eyes wide and his mouth kinked into a doubtful pout. She stood, aware that she was still blushing, but wanting to prove to him that she was all right. He was really no taller than she was, except for his wild hair that now, turned black again, stood up straight behind him like a cardinal's crest. But he was broad, twice her width at least, and immensely strong. They were so close now, she standing right before him, that if she leaned her hip forward slightly it would touch his. "That was...amazing," she said, breaking the silence that had held them both in check for long moments. She didn't want to play any more games now. Vegeta had come back to her. All she wanted was him.

      He smirked. "Of course it was. There is no being more powerful than I am at this moment. And I shall prove it." She noticed that the body suit he wore was torn badly, and the gloves that protected his hands were gone. She reached out and took his bare hand in hers.

      "To whom? To me?" she asked.

      Vegeta let her take his hand, but cocked his head back and peered sceptically down at her. "To everyone," he said. "Especially Kakarrot. And I have already proved it to you."

"Yes, you have," she said. She lowered her gaze again to the floor. "But you don't have to prove anything to me. Ever. I missed you," she told him. They stood together that way for a while, in silence, until Bulma looked up to his face again. He was watching her expressionlessly. She leaned her hip forward, closing that slight finger's - width between them.

      His hips were slender, smaller than hers. She could feel a tension between her thighs, her loins swelling tight and uncomfortable in her loose pyjama pants. The hand she held was so soft, softer and more perfect than she imagined it would be. Softer than her own, she thought. But then, he'd kept them gloved so much of the time that it was not all that surprising. "Vegeta," she said, her eyes dropping to his chest. Through the tears in his clothing, she could see the scars of old wounds long healed white and exposed in the moonlight. They stirred something deep within her; whenever she saw them, whether he was training or showering or wandering around the house, her eyes were always drawn to them and how they emphasised the curves of his small, muscular body beneath them. "I-I just want to say I'm sorry - "

      He had lifted her face up to meet his in a deep kiss. Bulma did not resist. She felt her legs going limp just as he began to hold her tightly in his arms. When that kiss was over, they indulged themselves in another, and then Bulma kissed him once softly on the cheek. He rubbed her body gently, resting his hands on her bottom. Bulma shyly nestled her head under his chin against his chest. "I must be getting better," he said. "You didn't laugh that time."

      Bulma turned very red. "Look, I'm really sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

      "I see."

      "I thought it might be a way to get close to you without either of us getting hurt."

      "It's alright," he said.

      "It is?" she asked, looking up.

      "Yes," Vegeta said, letting her go and walking slowly to the hallway. "I have no feelings. So I can't be hurt, right?" He left the room and closed the door.

~~~

      In the bathroom, Vegeta turned the shower on inside the tub. He took off his ravaged chest plate, clothes, and boots and tossed them into a pile beside the tub. There was an odd smell of ozone to them, not a male smell at all - his power most likely had burned his scent away, and that was somehow unpleasant to him. He leaned over to adjust the temperature just as Bulma came into the bathroom. Vegeta never locked the doors behind himself, and Bulma always seemed to follow him into the bathroom or bedroom to ask a question. The funny thing of it was, she always paused - for quite a while, sometimes - before asking him whatever it was she wanted. He had an idea why this was, and grinned at the thought of her unable to resist the temptation to gawk at him.

      "Hey, Vegeta!" Bulma said.

      "Hey what?" he asked, adjusting the temperature of the water. He didn't look back at her, but he could imagine her tiny hands clenched in anger, and pictured her face red with lust as it had been a short while ago. "Just what was that all about?"

      Vegeta stepped into the shower. "I don't know. You kissed me. You should ask yourself that question."

      "I didn't mean the kiss," she said.

      "What, then?" he said, and began to wash his hair. "I don't have time for your games tonight, woman. I'm very tired." Bulma didn't say anything for quite awhile. When the silence seemed unusually long, he peeked out of the curtain to see that she had left the room.

"Good riddance," he thought. "That woman is trouble." It was she who had kept him from concentrating and reaching his full potential as a saiyan here on Earth, and it was she who constantly hounded him as if he owed her something. Vegeta owed no one anything. She should be honoured that he gave her any attention at all and be grateful for that.

      There was no real reason Vegeta could see for her to be as interested in him as she seemed at times. Bulma had a man, one who seemed to be constantly in her thoughts. No matter what unkindness or insult Yamucha inflicted upon her, Bulma always seemed to want him. Vegeta remembered how he had tried to stop the constant bickering and nonsense that went on between them - squabbles that only served to interrupt Vegeta's carefully set training schedule and to prevent his meals from coming regularly, if at all - and how useless and embarrassing that attempt was. All in all, she seemed a poor woman; but then, her mate was poor, too, and used her, giving nothing back, though she did not care. She did not care to see past his handsome looks and natural charm, and whatever other graces he had shown to her. What she needed was some discipline, like any woman, saiyan or otherwise. Then and only then would she be able to understand what really mattered in life.

      When he finished washing, he dried off with a towel and, wrapping it around his waist, went into the hall and into his bedroom. Bulma's room was at the opposite end - as Vegeta turned to shut his door, he could see that her door was closed. His room was dark, the curtains drawn tight, but he remembered its layout and found the bed easily. The room was more comfortable than he was used to, the bed certainly much softer, and there were times when he had wondered why the Briefs took him in so readily. But the answer had been easy to devise once Vegeta discovered that Dr. Briefs was testing him scientifically without his consent or awareness through use of sophisticated sensors.

      Vegeta endured this. It was one more humiliation that life had thrust upon him, and so he enjoyed the use of Capsule Corp equipment and products without guilt and somewhat righteously, but never indicated to any of the Briefs what he knew. Now it appeared the doctor's daughter had designs to use Vegeta in other ways, to further her own aims or desires, whatever they were. There was not one person among all those he knew who did not use him, who did not gain protection from Vegeta's strength, insight from his knowledge, or courage from his own, and yet, not one of them afforded him anywhere near the respect he was used to as one of Freeza's most powerful soldiers. They were like leeches sucking his spirit and honour dry, and yet he stayed. He stayed because he was entertained here, and had come to find that he could use those around him, as well. Vegeta had never been among this many advanced primates in his entire life. There was something elusive about that fact that made this planet so appealing. Even though humans were far weaker than his own race of saiyan, they shared many things in common, and he wondered if he could learn from them any of the things the other saiyans he had known had taken for granted. Vegeta was still very young, and his little knowledge about certain common things - like saiyan women, for instance - had come from the saiyans he had been slaves with, and weak memories of his mother. He was still very naive about anything other than fighting, as that was all he knew. Somehow, being on earth gave Vegeta a sense of normalcy he hadn't remembered feeling before, and that feeling had stayed with him in the more pleasant of his dreams.

      As Vegeta lay in the bed, he began almost immediately to fall asleep. He had no real concept of how long he had been in that state of near sleep, but sometime thereafter he heard a soft sighing beside him, and felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder. "Vegeta," a woman's voice said, startling him. Vegeta had the sensation of falling fast at that moment and jerked awake.

      He turned to the sound of the voice, but in the dark he couldn't see a thing. "Bulma?" he asked.

      "Yes," she answered.

      "What are you doing here?"

      "I...I came in while you were showering. I was going back to my room...then I changed my mind."

      Vegeta blinked in the dark. Her voice was calm and soothing. He did not speak to her in anger; he was not angry with her. Her hand rested upon his chest this time. The mattress shifted as her weight changed and the length of her curvy, supple body moved to meet his solid one. The warm skin of her smooth leg and stomach stroked across him as she rested beside him, her leg straddling both of his. He could feel a tiny patch of rough fur between her legs brush along his hand at his side as she nestled herself in against him. A cold feeling wormed its way across Vegeta's heart then, paralysing him momentarily. This was nothing he was used to, and he had no feelings to match it. Bulma was beautiful, and he could appreciate her from a distance, but this was something else. He did not know what was expected of him, and had no idea how to please her. He had no skills of that kind. When he had tried to simply flirt with her in the past he had failed miserably, and had thus given up on that amusement, hoping to find a more receptive female in the future. What had he done right to deserve this attention now?

      "You don't mind if I sleep with you, do you?" she asked.

      Vegeta frowned. "No, of course not," he answered. He might have breathed a sigh of relief, except that he had been looking forward to trying to make love to her. But if all she wanted to do was sleep, it was just as well. He moved the arm that was underneath Bulma's leg, and she moved so that he could better place it. He embraced her, and she laid her head and hand against his chest. He allowed himself to drift off again when Bulma began to kiss his chest. "Hmmm…" he thought. "Maybe she's changed her mind." He leaned over and touched her cheek, and kissed her on top of the head. She lifted her face in the blackness and they kissed on the lips. It was a deep kiss; Bulma slipped her tongue into Vegeta's mouth passionately. They had done that before, he was very comfortable with it, and it put him at ease.

      He stroked her back and she moaned in pleasure at his touch; he groaned instinctively with singular desire. Vegeta was surprised that she trusted him enough to be this intimate; but then, he believed that she must have had some experience at this, having had a mate (no matter how unsatisfactory Yamucha must have been), even though she'd given birth to no offspring that he knew of. But perhaps their mating had just not been successful before; maybe the offspring between Bulma and Yamucha had not been viable. "That must be it--that's why she sought me out," Vegeta thought. He had no problem with that - it was a woman's only true purpose, to bear young. So she might be nervous (though hiding it well), but the reward is worth the cost to her. He felt a strange pride as a result of this epiphany, and actually blushed, unbeknownst to Bulma in the dark of the room. His heart throbbed, and it was a strange sensation, something he had never felt in this way, and didn't quite know how to control it, or even if he should. Bulma, moaning sweetly still, had moved on, rising above him on her hands and knees to kiss him down his chest to his stomach.

      Vegeta could feel a slight panic creep into his mind again, uninvited, forcing away the pleasure: "What should I do? What must I hide, or reveal? What would make her think less of me? And if she does think less of me, what will she do? She might just get up and leave." He could not even feel the touch of her soft lips upon him anymore; his head began to ache. He couldn't remember feeling this inexperienced at anything, and that feeling was killing him inside, and all the enjoyment he got from Bulma and her tenderness had vanished. And another horrible thought occurred to him, something that tore him completely apart inside: Yamucha was able to do this. He might not have been able to make offspring with Bulma, but he had done this so well that she kept going back for more and more, in spite of his idiocy.

      That was the unkindest cut of all.

      Bulma had stopped kissing, had stopped doing anything entirely now that Vegeta had stopped responding, but Vegeta did not seem to notice. "Um...Hey?" Bulma said. "Vegeta?"

      "Yes?" he answered.

      "Did - did I do something wrong?"

      Vegeta put his hands on her shoulders and gently stroked up and down her arms. "No, of course not. I was just reminded of something."

      Bulma blinked in puzzlement. She couldn't see him at all, and had stopped trying to when she realized just how impossible that was. She did wonder if he could see her, though. She didn't know if the dark bothered his vision at all, since she had never really asked Goku, the only other saiyan she knew, about such things. "What was her name?" she asked.

      Vegeta's voice came after a pause. "Who?"

      "The one you were reminded of."

      Vegeta laughed softly a moment later. "No, you're wrong. I'm not thinking of anyone."

      "Oh. Then, what were you thinking of?" she wondered aloud. "And it better be good..."

      She only said that last part to herself.

      He didn't answer for a long while. "I was just thinking...that this is not a good idea."

      Bulma felt her heart wither in her chest. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Don't...You don't like me, do you?"

      She could hear his pillow rustle slightly; was he shaking his head? Maybe he could see in the dark... "No, no, woman, there is nothing wrong with you at all. You are a...fine woman."

      That was the most affectionate thing Bulma had ever remembered hearing Vegeta say, and it filled her heart with hope. "Then...whatever it is can't be that bad."

      "Let me speak, woman! You are so full of endless nonsense to say," he spat. "I can't even hear myself think!"

      Tears welled in Bulma's eyes and she climbed off him to cover her face with her hands. Moments later, she fled, bawling, from his room, and slammed the door behind her.

      Alone in his room, Vegeta sighed. He rolled over on his side and, without thinking, pulled a pillow to his chest. It did little to fill the void he felt inside it, a void which he thought he had filled years ago with sterner stuff, only to learn now how easily a mere woman could remove it.

~~~

      He couldn't sleep anymore. He lay alone for what seemed like hours, and Bulma did not return. After getting up and accidentally slamming his smallest toe into the dresser he sought, he pulled from the top drawer of the offending furniture the only item it contained - his grey sweatpants. Downstairs in the kitchen he might be able to find something already cooked chilling in the refrigerator, or something that did not require preparation that he could eat. As he wandered down the stairs, he heard quiet voices and hushed music coming from the main room beside the kitchen. He passed through the foyer at the bottom of the stairs and into the dimly lit room beyond it to see what was going on. The large video screen that the Briefs used for entertainment was turned on. The images it played were of a young man and woman discussing something which Vegeta couldn't quite understand. Bulma was sleeping on the couch, her legs splayed across it. She was dressed in a loose fitting top and pants that he had seen her wear to bed at times.

      Vegeta sat down beside her and lifted the remote from her loose grip upon it. She snorted once and fidgeted but did not awaken. He had never really sat down to watch the video screen, but Bulma had mentioned the equipment and some of the shows on it in conversation (not necessarily with Vegeta), so he understood that this was what the large satellite dish beside the house was for. Apparently, the unit could receive broadcasts from all over the world, though it did not transmit, and this served as Bulma's main entertainment of late. The man and the woman were not doing anything interesting that Vegeta could see, so he began to flip through the channels until he found something more appealing. He was beginning to get bored after only a few moments of this when a passing image caught his eye. Turning back to find it, he watched as a woman with gold hair kissed and fondled another woman passionately, only to be joined by a man a short time later. No wonder Bulma found this pastime so entertaining!

      He didn't feel comfortable at first watching it. It made him feel more excluded somehow, probably because their actions were so foreign to him, though they should not have been; they should have been as familiar to him as breathing. The sheer sordidness of it he found distasteful as well...he was not the type to spy on other people's private affairs, although he reminded himself that this was intended to be public and amusing. It occurred to him that he could learn privately in this way what Bulma might expect from him, and that made it very appealing. Providing, however, that he was not watching some sort of farce, but from what he could see, everyone seemed to be taking it all pretty seriously.

      He could feel the tail he no longer had start to swish. It was all in his mind, but it felt so real; there was still a bit of a flat stub there at the base that wriggled imperceptibly. A saiyan's tail was prehensile, it was like a third arm, and Vegeta's had been sliced off in battle by Yajirobe, one of the earthling soldiers he used to fight against, but who now was somewhat of an ally. He hated that his tail was gone, he could still feel it from time to time, and the fact that it was absent, the fact that he had let that happen, made him feel inadequate, made him feel outcast, as if his head had been shaved and he'd been painted purple.

      Another humiliation to endure.

      He could feel his heart beat faster as he watched the humans at their mating; it was impossible for him not to become aroused by it. There was not any point for him to resist--he was supposed to be learning how to participate. He did wonder if he needed another female for the mating to be done correctly, since this was what he witnessed. It was difficult for Vegeta to understand what was essential and what was unimportant, since everything about the act was frustratingly implicit.

      Another thought occurred to Vegeta as he watched them, however. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid! This wasn't some contest to be won - in fact; he had no competition at all. Bulma had chosen him. That fact was clear. He had somehow unwittingly endeared himself to her, and she wanted him above all others. Whatever happened then was to be between the two of them alone, and no one else would interfere. Perhaps he could explain to her how he felt and what he didn't understand, and she could make everything clear. But no, the more he thought about it the more he realized that he would ultimately lose her respect that way: females did not want weak males who did not possess the skills to please them. Females chose the best males, the ones who showed the most prowess and strength. That was how they knew their offspring would survive. Sighing, Vegeta realized that this was yet another challenge he would have to manage on his own.

      He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he did not watch them finish; he had not been paying attention as he should have been. He cursed himself under his breath and in frustration turned off the monitor; he could not watch anymore. His head fell to his hands to rest in his lap and he dropped the remote carelessly onto the floor. No, this was impossible. He was too old now, he had grown up in isolation, and he would never be able to learn from a distance the important social skills that he was so grossly lacking. Freeza had ultimately won. Though no longer a slave, Vegeta had been rendered impotent if not in body then in spirit, and the saiyan race would die out as Freeza had planned. There was only one point to life for Vegeta: his power. He had better restore his focus to that, as there would be nothing else.

      "Vegeta?" Bulma whispered. He heard her rustle on the sofa.

Something twisted deep inside his stomach. How long had she been awake? How foolish he had been. He wanted nothing more than to run away. The embarrassment that had become his hated friend writhed inside of him, and his desperate wish through it all had been that Bulma could somehow make it go away. But that would have meant admitting openly to her about the weakness he felt, and then Bulma would only reject and mock him for sure. His heart pounded in his chest until he thought it would pop. Her hand rested gently on his back...

      Her uninvited touch made him react. "Don't touch me, woman. Did I ask for your sympathy?" He turned his head to snarl at her in disgust. Bulma scowled back at him and leaned away.

      "Oh, well, I'm sorry, but when someone turns on pornography in my living room in front of me, I just have to wonder what the reason is. I mean, I think I know what the reason is," she said. "It just breeds other questions, that's all."

      He looked back to his hands. "I was only watching what I thought you watched. Don't you amuse yourself with this thing all day and night?"

      "Gosh, I watch some television," she said, "but not that smut! The satellite picks up everything, though...that's not my fault.

      "Vegeta," Bulma began again, "It seems to me that there's a lot you're hiding from me. You never give me an honest answer about some of the, well, just plain odd things I've seen you do. I really don't think you like me, and I'm sorry if I get in your way around here. I promise not to bother you so much in the future. You are a welcomed guest here, after all."

      Vegeta could feel his blood flow hotter in anger. Every word she said was a lie, and it enraged him. He couldn't hold his feelings back anymore; he felt as if he would explode should he choke them back down again. "Welcomed guest?!" he shouted. He leaped to his feet, his hands clenched in fury. "I'm only a guest as much as a rat is a guest in a laboratory!"

      Bulma's mouth hung open as she rose to stand before him. "Wha-what do you mean?"

      "Your father has been monitoring my every move since I've come here! Why do you think I go elsewhere to seriously train? Do you really think I want to be sharing all my secrets with him and anyone else he cares to tell?!"

      Bulma's cheeks went scarlet; Vegeta knew for certain then that it was true. "Father only wanted...to help you," she said.

      "Help? HA! He only wanted to find out what my weaknesses are! So you knew about it, eh, woman? How could you?"

      She blinked wide eyes at him. "He wanted to find out about your race in order to help you. Honestly! That's the only reason why I...I went along with it."

      Vegeta was somewhat surprised - so, she had helped her father to spy on him? "Why didn't you tell me, woman? Why lie to me; why lie to my face everyday?"

      Bulma sat on the couch and began to cry. "Because we didn't want to make you uncomfortable... We just wanted to learn about you harmlessly so we could make the gravity chamber better, and maybe help you in other ways. Like, your armour," she sobbed. "Father's been working on new armour for you."

      Vegeta blinked in surprise. That was not what he had counted on. He had actually thought perhaps that they were conspiring against him in order to help Kakarrot defeat him...but Bulma's tears said something else. She hadn't wanted to do it - but it had not been her decision to make. Vegeta knew that feeling well. But Bulma had to learn a lesson from this, because Vegeta did not want such deceit concerning him to ever happen again. This was one lesson he had to make very clear. "Bulma," he said, "you are never going to allow anyone to spy on me again. And if I ever find out that you are spying on me yourself, you will be punished for it."

      "Hey!" Bulma squealed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "is that a threat? I'm not a child, you know."

      Vegeta moved to stand directly before her, and leaned down so that she was nose to nose with his scowling face. "If you are not a child, then do not act like one, and I will not treat you as one." Bulma did not pull away, but her face was slightly pale. "This goes for lying to me as well. Never lie to me Bulma, because I am smarter than you, and I will always find out the truth." Bulma swallowed hard, but still did not move. Vegeta noticed a slight flush return to her cheeks. "Now, when your father returns, you will tell him that I said no more monitoring of me, because I've been aware of it since day one, and I will not tolerate it anymore. And you will tell him that I will know if he does not comply. Have I made myself clear, Bulma?"

      Bulma nodded slowly, and Vegeta, grinning, stood up straight before her. "Good girl," he said. "Now I feel a lot better. Don't you?" She grinned in reply, then bit her lower lip, and her eyes became wide and shiny. "I've forgiven you, because I have infinite forgiveness for you, but if it happens again, you know the consequences. It might be harder for me to forgive you the next time, knowing that you openly defied me."

      "I...I understand," Bulma said, looking down at her hands in her lap. Vegeta bent down on one knee and lifted her chin up with a finger so that their faces would be even.

      "I know," he whispered. She leaned forward and they kissed - Vegeta so badly wanted to do the things with her that he had seen the humans do on the television, but every act other than kissing seemed new and clumsy to him in thought, and Bulma would never accept such weakness in her man. The emotions he felt had been so intense this night, however, that he rested his head against hers gently after the kiss in exhaustion. Bulma's hands did not rest, however - she stroked and massaged his muscles affectionately, and it did feel amazingly good to Vegeta, but he could not release his fear and reciprocate.

      "There is something wrong," Bulma whispered, "isn't there? Why won't you tell me what it is? Don't you trust me?"

      Vegeta did not answer. He sighed and looked at her and touched her face with his fingertips. She kissed his face gently.

      "It's not--it's not someone else, is it?"

      Vegeta sneered. "No, it's not someone else, Bulma! You keep asking me that. How could it be someone else? There NEVER was anyone else."

      Bulma cocked her head. "Are you--are you serious?"

      "Serious?" Vegeta asked. He wasn't sure he understood her.

      "Oh," she exclaimed with a smirk, "are you trying to say what I think you're saying...? You--you've never been with a girl before, have you?"

      Vegeta frowned. He had blatantly admitted it without meaning to. It was a bad night, he was tired, and he'd made mistake after mistake all evening long. He had never been this intimate with another being, and had not realized how difficult and stressful it was to keep up the front, to pretend to be flawless, incessantly. But it was just as well that this had happened...he couldn't lie to Bulma, especially after what he had just said. And it was one more poison to finally free from his heart.

      "I see now... You know, that actually explains a lot. Vegeta, are you ok?" He had stood up and turned his back on her, and walked to stand in the archway to the kitchen with his arms folded. She got up off the sofa and approached him, standing to his right side and bending forward a bit to see his profile. "Um, why don't we just go to bed? It's so late...maybe you'll feel better if you relax."

      He huffed softly. "Why not," he said. She reached out in a gesture to take his hand, which he gave to her. He didn't have any energy left to argue, and his embarrassment was complete. He wanted to flee this place entirely, never to return, but he was too tired to even muster the energy to fly. In the morning he would go. Maybe as he slept in the dark with Bulma he could at least find some solace with her warm, soft body once again huddled against him, if she would even be so willing now as to hold him.

      Vegeta didn't really remember getting up the stairs or climbing into bed, his exhaustion was that complete. He had fallen asleep for a few hours only, and a dream had startled him awake. He couldn't quite recall what it was about (he didn't often remember his dreams), but he had this pleasant feeling upon waking, as if he had been given a small boost of energy. Because they had left the heavy curtains drawn, his bedroom was still very dark, though it was probably sometime around dawn by now. He could feel Bulma's back warm against his, so he rolled over to touch her. She was sleeping, her body still, her ribs rising and falling under Vegeta's palm. Strangely, he felt no inhibitions now that he had confessed his secret to her - she did not want him anymore, he was sure, but it felt oddly good to be true to himself and to her in spite of the shame. There was no pressure anymore. He leaned over and kissed her face, then pressed his naked body up against hers; he'd had an erection from the mysterious dream, so he placed it in between the smooth cheeks of her bottom. When she woke, she would most likely reprimand him. But it would all be over soon anyway--too soon--and he would be leaving to make some other place his own.

      Bulma was such a carefree creature. It must be easy to be a woman, he thought. They had no serious challenges, no battles to fight, no fear. They were always considered valuable, held in high regard; so there was always a man to take care of them. Bulma may not have had a good man in Yamucha, but she had her father to care for her, plus any of the Z Fighters would care for her should she need it. No one ever cared for Vegeta; the only care he ever received he had earned through the sacrifice of his own flesh and blood and will. But such was the life of a man--it was nothing he was not accustomed to. And he could take care of himself better than any woman could take care of herself without aid. Vegeta kissed Bulma again on the neck and back several times tenderly. She might not want him anymore, but it was still pleasing to do, and she might still want some pleasure anyway, just not accept him as a mate. Bulma woke with a groan after being kissed on her breast. "Mmm…Vegeta?" she sighed. "You're still here?"

      "It's alright," he said. "I'll go."

      "No--wait!" Bulma's hand pressed into his chest in the dark as she turned toward him. "Please, don't go. I'm sorry I fell asleep...I was just so tired."

      "I was asleep, as well. I just woke up. Isn't that what you wanted to do? Sleep?"

      "Uh...not really," she said. She found his mouth after kissing his cheek and kissed his lips in the dark. He was extremely aroused by her now, though he hadn't wanted to get this excited only to be rejected. Vegeta pressed his body tightly against hers and embraced her with one arm; he wanted to show her how much he wanted her--her need might be so great that she might change her mind.

      Then, suddenly, Bulma gave a piercing shriek that startled Vegeta so much he lurched backward and rolled off the bed. He hit his head on the carpeted floor, and suddenly, the weak light on the table by the bedside clicked on. "What's the matter?" he gasped, blinking fiercely against the light while pulling his torso up onto the bed.

      "Wh--something...wriggled against my leg!" she panted in fear, moving to kneel on the bed.

      Vegeta frowned and climbed all the way onto the bed. "That was me, you foolish woman," he said.

      Bulma's brow kinked. "You?" She looked down at him in the dim light. "Oh, my God, it is--! You... It..."

      "It moves on its own," he said, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Well, I move it myself, but what I meant was, it moves as I will it to."

      "Oh...my," Bulma whispered, grinning apparently in shock.

      "I'm guessing that human males aren't so amusing?" he asked, kneeling in front of her. He locked her hands with his and held them by her side. Kissing her lips gently, his penis began to explore the lips of her groin. Bulma giggled and writhed away slightly. Vegeta smiled; her wriggling excited him greatly. Bulma was playful and beautiful and very feminine, and Vegeta enjoyed watching her in the dim light--her little breasts jiggled up and down, and her tummy muscles and hips shook as she reacted to his touch. She was everything he had wanted a mate to be, and he wondered if she would accept him after all. "Don't be afraid," he said softly. "Here...touch it."

      He took her hand and placed it on his penis, which he could not help but curve around her soft hand. Her touch was warm and it sent waves of pleasure quivering up his spine. She massaged him gently, stroking back and forth, and he grew longer with each stroke, it seemed. Then, Bulma kissed him and pushed gently on his chest. "Lie down," she said, "and I'll do more than touch it."

      Vegeta did as he was told. He wasn't exactly sure what she had in mind, but things had been going well enough that he felt he could trust her a little. He leaned his head against the pillow so he could watch her as she lowered her head toward his writhing cock. She wrapped her right hand around the base to hold it still, and smothered it with her mouth. Vegeta felt his buttocks tense and his back arch slightly from the pleasure. He gasped and moaned slightly, and Bulma groaned in reply. She took him down her throat as deeply as she could, and then pulled back, repeating the motion over and over again. He gripped her hair gently in his hands and played with it while she sucked. It was the most intense pleasure he had ever felt in his life. He didn't ever want her to stop; he didn't want it to end. Bulma kept on licking and teasing and swallowing his cock until he thought he was going to explode all over her. Then, a moment later, she stopped, and, kissing his throbbing penis once, looked up at Vegeta and said, "Now there's something I want you to do for me."

      He grinned foolishly. He knew what she wanted. She lay down beside him and before he had a chance to think on it she had wrapped a leg around him and was kissing him passionately on the mouth. His penis squirmed and delved deeply, instinctively, into the soft, warm, waiting hole it found between her legs.

      Bulma gasped and her eyes shot wide open. "Oh, Vegeta!" she exclaimed. She was soft and moist inside; he shifted to be on top of her and began thrusting easily in and out of her. She smiled up at him--Vegeta could see his ecstasy mirrored in her own shining eyes. With every thrust he gave her she moaned as deeply and gutturally as her sweet voice would allow. Her eyes closed shyly, her little mouth kinked up, and she bit her lower lip so intensely that Vegeta thought she might break the skin. His passion became so intense that he began to move faster; and for a brief moment thought he might come prematurely into her trembling womb. She squealed and widened the spread of her legs, if it were possible for her to do so. "Oh, oh! Vegeta!" she said, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear, "You won't hurt me! Go faster, go faster! Oh, you won't hurt me! Oh!"

      He did what she asked of him. He rocked his hips savagely against her pelvis, and he suddenly became aware of the sensation that he was steadily and increasingly releasing energy through his loins and into Bulma. He realized then that she was right--he couldn't hurt her. Unintentionally through his actions, he had been increasing the strength of her ki with his own. He went on that way for as long as he could while Bulma writhed and squealed beneath him, but it wasn't long before her jiggling body was more than he could stand. He broke down and came deep inside her; heavy throbs which spurted his thick mucusy seed far into her womb.

      She gasped, spent also, and moved over as he withdrew so he could lie down beside her. The two spent the morning together in this way, and many nights afterward in the same way as well--Vegeta had accomplished what he had wanted for himself physically, he had met his goal to ascend, and had also realized his dream of something that he had never been consciously aware that he had wanted in the first place: companionship.

~~~

      "What's the matter, woman? You do not look well. I assure you, the meal is acceptable."

      If Bulma had not been so stunned over what she had learned this morning, now almost a month after she had begun spending her nights with Vegeta, she might have been angry at him for imagining he was her only concern. Instead, she said, "I--I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it. I'm going to have a baby."

      Vegeta didn't look up from his meal. "Of course you are, woman," he said.

      "What?"

      Vegeta swallowed. "What did you think was going to happen? A potato would come out?"

      Bulma stared at him in shock as he calmly continued eating. A grin that he could not keep away despite obvious effort crept onto his face. If she didn't know him so well, she might have thought he'd blushed. "You are so innocent, female. Babies come of what we do together."

      Scowling, she shouted, "I know how babies are made! That's not what I mean!"

      Chewing forcefully on a biscuit, Vegeta locked eyes with her and put his hand on hers. "Do not be nervous about your first child. You are carrying Saiyan royalty. Take comfort in the pride you must feel."

      Bulma felt her heart lurch slightly. Vegeta's words stuck her as strangely tender. Yes, actually, she was very happy. She had wanted children, and she felt that she was somehow beginning to understand Vegeta in a way that did make her proud. But was this right? Was this real love? She hadn't even had time to think.

      "Let me assure you also, Bulma, that I have chosen my mate not without thought," he said after a pause that included taking another bite of roast beef.

      Bulma sat silently for a while, watching Vegeta finish his lunch while he made no further attempt to conceal his smile. Like a little boy, Bulma thought. Was he happy for the child or just amused by what he had done to her? She wasn't exactly sure.

      But he had "chosen [his] mate". So he did consider them bonded. She laughed a little to herself: Vegeta had not even considered that Bulma might have been using some sort of protection! He probably assumed any woman would be eager to bear his progeny. The baby had been planned, if not by Bulma, then by Vegeta himself, or else he never would have taken her in the first place. And that thought made Bulma happier than she had been all day. He had wanted a family with her--from the first time they made love, that had been his intention all along.

      Bulma felt a tear slide down her face in spite of her sudden smile. Vegeta wiped it from her cheek with a finger.

      "There, you see, woman? You are feeling happier by the minute."

      "Yes, I am," she answered. "I really am."

The end.