Chapter 14

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Vegeta's scrutiny grated on the former monk's nerves. Why was the Saiyan staring at him like that?

"Eh, heh. What are you looking at, Vegeta?"

The Saiyan prince remained silent and continued to stare. Krillin fidgeted nervously.

"Tell me, Dome-head, why are you training with that Turtle Pervert?"

"Master Roshi? He's been my teacher since I was a kid. He was the greatest martial artist on Earth."

"'Was'?"

"Yeah. Now he doesn't do much training."

"And what does he do?" Vegeta knew the answer, but he enjoyed making the human uncomfortable.

"He prefers to read, umm, magazines."

The prince sneered at the mention of those magazines. The once greatest martial artist on Earth was now reduced to a leering dirty old man. How appropriate for this snivelling little planet.

Silence continued. Krillin tapped his fingers together, wishing that Bulma would hurry with the capsule. One of his Kamehameha tidal waves had destroyed Kame House, and he was at Capsule Corp. to ask her for a new one.

Moments later, his friend entered the room and gave him the capsule. "Do you need anything else, Krillin?"

"No, that's it. Thanks, Bulma." The Earthling showed his impatience to leave.

"Well, drop by anytime. Don't let Vegeta scare you. He always looks like that before a meal," the genius reassured her friend.

Krillin waved and flew off.

"Poor Krillin. It must be terrible to have Roshi and Oolong as his only companions. Turtle's okay, but he doesn't talk much. Well, they're still better than that bimbo Marron." Bulma scrunched up her face to show her distaste for the airhead.

Not caring whether Vegeta was interested, she continued with an explanation. "Marron was Krillin's live-in girlfriend. He spent most of his time shopping with her instead of training. The stupid girl had to be taken to Kame's lookout so that Krillin could fight Garlic Junior. I'm glad that they broke up. He could do so much better."

The Saiyan knew the tale of Garlic Junior's return. Dome-head, the Namek, and Kakarott's brat barely defeated the evil little alien. According to the brat, the deranged blue Namek-like creature and his henchmen gave the trio an extreme beating before being cast into The Dead Zone.

Vegeta could excuse the third-class whelp's difficulty with Garlic Jr. on inexperience. And the Namek did have issues with his good and supposedly former evil side. But the bald one had no excuse, except that he was human. Still, Dome-head should have fared better if he had been training. Yet, he let the wiles of a woman distract him and became weak. Baldy may not be an evil lecherous monk, but he was certainly an insecure, easily distracted, ex-monk training with a lecherous old martial artist. The association was close enough for Vegeta. The Saiyan gave a contemptuous snort. Those martial arts books were correct. With his convoluted sense of logic, Vegeta came to one conclusion: sex was bad.

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The blue-haired beauty winked at the sexy nymph in the mirror. Her silk shift flowed temptingly over her luscious curves. Exiting the bathroom, the vixen sashayed toward their bed. Her husband was already beneath the covers.

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow as he watched the Woman approach. He assessed that something must be wrong with her legs, as evidenced by the lop-sided gait.

She knelt at the end of the bed and crawled slowly toward him. All assets were on full display for her prince. Vegeta remained motionless, taking in the entire sight. Bulma hovered over her Saiyan and graced him with a slow wet kiss. Tonight would be their wedding night.

"Did you like that?" she breathed.

Vegeta nodded once. Bulma knew that her prince was not much for lying. She giggled demurely and gave him another sensual kiss.

The Saiyan slowly gave in to this hot new sensation. His arms encircled the goddess as she rested her body fully atop his. His lids drooped. In the dim light, his squinting eye caught a small glint off of the brass lamp. Brass. Chrome. Dome. Dome-head. Baldy. Sex is bad.

Vegeta abruptly ended the kiss, pulled away from his bedmate, and gave her a rewarding pat on the head. "That'll do, Woman. That'll do." He gently rolled from underneath her and rested on his side.

Bulma blinked...and blinked again at her husband's back. She did the only thing she could do. She crawled in next to her husband, turned off the lights, and cursed the thick sheets.

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The genius harrumphed as she followed her Vegeta outside. Last night proved that either her husband had excellent self-control, or she simply did not interest him. Unable to accept the latter, she formulated another possibility.

Yamcha arrived for his sparring session. Bulma watched the two fighters walk a distance away and square off. She frowned.

"Well, I hope you two have a good time." Addressing both combatants, she added, "And be sure to lick each other's asses."

Vegeta scowled. "Woman, don't you mean 'kick?'"

"No." She returned to the house, her hair swishing behind her.

Both warriors shook their heads and shrugged. They resumed their fighting stances and charged. A loud whoosh rushed through the air as both ... completely missed each other. With mutual understanding, they powered down.

Bulma walked passed one of the guest bathrooms and heard gargling interspersed with bits of conversation.

"...how could she *gargle*...do better...Tien *gargle*...or Goku...*gargle*"

Peeking through a crack in the door, she saw Yamcha spitting into the sink and Puar refilling his cup with Listerine.

"Stupid Woman. Assuming that I may have an interest in that weakling. If I had those tendencies, I could certainly do better...only Kakaro...Argh, Ptui!"

Bulma found her resident Saiyan in the kitchen, expectorating profusely into the sink.

"I take it that you're not gay."

Vegeta glared at her and spat again. "Woman, whenever you open your mouth, I am rarely happy."

She smiled.

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