Chapter 16

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Vegeta entered the darkened bedroom and found the Woman resting beneath the covers. Relieved at the prospect of not discussing their marriage, he settled into his side of the bed for some much-needed rest. Super Saiyan was still beyond his grasp, and he needed no distractions. At this rate, he may as well be as useless as Dome-head and let Kakarrot reap all the glory. He growled at the thought.

Bulma snuggled into her husband, as was her habit during sleep. The mighty Saiyan's fine-tuned reflexes had him on his feet in an instant. He stared down at his bedmate, incredulous with her audacity.

Bulma smiled languidly at her husband. "Surprise," she whispered.

"Woman," his voice fought for control. "Where are your garments?" The warmth from her luscious curves lingered on his body. His bare chest flushed lightly from her heat.

"Since we're married, we might as well do married things." Bulma propped herself on her elbow and raised the covers, giving the prince more than an eyeful. She patted the mattress invitingly.

Vegeta looked around behind him and saw no one. Was the Woman serious? Her Cheshire smile made him suspicious. "What do you want?"

"Why, you of course. You *are* my husband." She patted the bed again. "I want you, and whatever you can give me."

Perhaps her words held another meaning, but Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans, decided to address the obvious, at least to him. "That, Woman, may not be wise. Consider the mule and the liger."

Bulma gave him a quizzical look. "What do sterile hybrids have to do with us?"

Vegeta remained silent, confident in his wife's intelligence.

"Vegeta! Do you mean to tell me that our children would be infertile? No grandchildren?"

A slight raise of his eyebrows indicated an assent.

"But, but Gohan," she stuttered.

"What about that mop-top? Is he of procreating age, yet?"

"That's sick, Vegeta. He's still a little boy." She dropped onto her back, letting her gaze shift to the ceiling. "I guess we won't know for awhile." This was an interesting predicament for her friend Chi-Chi.

He tossed the Woman one of his t-shirts. She absent-mindedly slipped it on and scooted to her side of the bed. The Saiyan reclaimed his former position and settled in for slumber. A few "hmms" and "ohs" from his bedmate lulled him to sleep.

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Another disappointing day passed. Vegeta was already in bed, cursing his failure at becoming the Legendary, when he heard the Woman enter the room. He turned his royal back to her to stave off any conversation.

The sheets barely rustled as Vegeta did a replay of last night's dance. "Woman, why are you not clad? Did last night's conversation not convince you that this would be wrong?"

"I've thought about it, and if our children can't reproduce, so what? We'll love them just the same. And with my genius, we may be able to make large strides in the field of reproduction in the future."

"Your previous efforts in biology had only been to create laxatives," Vegeta haughtily reminded her.

"So it has. But the future is a long way off. I may be successful yet." She snapped her fingers with confidence.

His mind grasped at straws. He had no argument, save a thin one. "I will not have you. The Prince of All Saiyans does not take someone's seconds."

Bulma raised an eyebrow as her mind took in the meaning. "You're concerned about my past with Yamcha?"

The prince stood impassive.

Bulma took the silence as a yes. "What he and I did together was in the past. It should have no bearing on us."

"You and that weak human had a long history in my understanding. According to Earth customs you should have had relations. Your mode of dress also indicates that you like to solicit the prospect."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with anything when you kissed me."

"That was a momentary lapse of judgment in my weariness. I will not make the same mistake again."

"You know, I should really be insulted. You led me on, and now you want to leave me."

Vegeta smirked and steeled himself for a tirade.

"But, it's admirable that you have such high standards. You've actually gained a notch in my book."

He remained silent. Only the total whites surrounding his pupils showed his disbelief. Will she never let him sleep?

"It might interest you, dear husband of mine, to know that I am chaste. Down to the hands." She spread her palms and wiggled the digits for him to see the truth in her statements.

Vegeta's blood pressure rose. He could feel the heat rising . . . everywhere. "But the weakling ..."

" . . . was respectful of my wishes. I'm an old-fashioned gal at heart and was saving myself for marriage. Now I'm married and in my thirties, which," she spoke the next part slowly for emphasis, "means that I am at my sexual peak." She reclined and beckoned to him with her hand. "It's all perfect for us, Vegeta."

He reached toward her and dropped his hand next to her face. Grabbing his pillow, he abruptly turned and stalked out the door. The firm couch would be good for his back.

Bulma shrugged and pulled the covers over her shoulders. "He'll be back."

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Her movements were hypnotic. The sway of her hips, the way she bent to serve him breakfast, the cleavage over his eggs had him enthralled. Her ruby lips pouted lusciously as she blew on his eggs to cool them. Breakfast had never tasted so delicious to the Saiyan prince.

Vegeta gave her half-a-second's glance before turning away and leaving to train. Bulma watched her little Saiyan scratch his fine backside as he exited.

His focus was elsewhere than on destroying the robots. Compounded with a restless night on the uncomfortably lonely couch, Vegeta's training was a disaster. To compensate, he remained in the gravity chamber past lunch and dinner. No bucket of bolts would defeat the Prince of All Saiyans in this timeline.

He walked noiselessly into the bedroom and found the Woman sitting in bed. To his amazement, she was completely clothed in cotton pyjamas. Finally, he could have a night of rest in his own comfortable bed. He fell asleep with thoughts of his hair flashing gold.

Vegeta jerked awake and clumsily thudded to the floor. Both hands reached to quickly pull up his shorts.

Bulma peered over the side of the bed and watched her Saiyan gather his dignity.

"Woman, what were you doing to me?"

She held up the tube of ointment. "Just taking care of my honey. You've been scratching your rear, so I was going to put medicine on it. Get back here and let me finish."

He stood his ground. "No."

"Vegeta," she left the bed and made her way toward him, "let me." Her statement held no room for argument.

"No."

She leaped at him. Taken unawares, the two tumbled into a heap. The mighty Saiyan found his wife to be unusually strong. He marvelled that two missed meals could so severely deplete his strength. Perhaps she poisoned his eggs. Bulma elbowed his ribs and used her body to roll the small Saiyan onto his stomach. Vegeta saw carpet fibers and Nappa's laughing face. Tsk, tsk, clucked the bald goon.

"Vegeta," Bulma said through gritted teeth, "my husband will not have scabies. Just let me rub this on you." Her knee dug into his kidney as she hooked two fingers underneath the elastic of his shorts.

The struggle picked up in intensity. The greasy ointment squirted wildly. Vegeta finally managed to push his wife away. The Woman sat in front of him, smeared with ointment and disheveled. Vegeta found the sight quite . . . alluring. He shook his head to clear the image but found that it was not in his imagination.

The prince stood up and glared down at his Woman. "The Prince of All Saiyans does not have scabies! You are the cause of my discomfort. Your bite makes me itch." He folded his arms in finality.

Bulma knelt in front of him. "Really? Since that time from the beach? Let me see." She reached for the elusive waistband.

Vegeta batted her hand away. "Enough. This needs to end."

"What needs to end?"

"This 'marriage.' You, Woman, are taking too many liberties."

"I will not have a divorce on my records, Vegeta." She frowned at him.

"You have no choice. I do not intend to honor this Earthly farce of a union." So saying, the Saiyan turned on his heels and headed for another shower.

Bulma sat on the floor and thinned her lips. "So be it." She shook her fist at the bathroom door. "But you won't be rid of me that easily, my stubborn little Saiyan."

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