Chapter 1 – Them again?
"Oh, quit sulking, Vegeta. It will just be Goku's family this time and not the whole Z crew," reasoned Bulma while putting the cushions on the deck chairs. Not getting a response Bulma glanced up at Vegeta to find he had not moved. He was leaning against the railing of the huge terrace with his arms crossed; obviously displeased with the prospect of more visitors so soon after their last gathering. Bulma cleared her throat to get his attention and asked, "I could use some help with that." She gestured to the giant umbrella resting against the house.
"Where are your servants, woman? They should be assisting you." He didn't wait for the answer and went to retrieve the heavy item.
Bulma smiled at him appreciatively, admiring his regal physique. Her eyes averted when the Saiyan turned around to bring it to her. "It's their day off." Next to her, he stood very close and waited for her to finish. Vegeta always liked to menacingly invade her space. Though it was not always so, she now found solace in his nearness. When she backed away, Vegeta swept the closed umbrella as if welding a sword and jabbed the end down the center hole of the table with jarring force. Bulma hands went to her hips, and she slowly bent at the waist to see under the table. She came up to face the Prince with a frown. The weighted iron base had broken...again.
Vegeta's one brow rose and he sardonically asked, "Do you wish further assistance?"
"Humph. Thanks, but no thanks" She came back to his side and leaned forward and cranked open the sunshade.
The Prince watched his onna with amusement. Her torso was practically parallel to the table. The summer dress she wore left her back bare and he watched her shoulders and upper back muscles work from the effort. It wasn't hard to imagine what it would be like to be the table. He traced a finger from her neck to the small of her back, tripping over a lone clasp as he went; disappointed that it didn't give way. "I prefer to have you alone for dinner, onna."
When the umbrella locked into place, Bulma stood, cocked her hip, and rested a hand on it. Not able to resist, she smiled mischievously at his way of endearment. She knew 'onna' meant simply woman in Saiyan, but she was the only one he had ever labeled it to. Although he preferred to wear black, she had taken advantage of his cooperative mood and convinced him to wear the white linen shirt she had bought him some time ago. She had buttoned it up for him, purposely leaving several undone to reveal some of his brawn. And with those dark jeans…Damn he looked good. If their friends weren't in route, she would have considered his suggestion and cancel the whole thing. As it was, they were also bringing their son Trunks home from a week long stay. Bulma poked at his chest and then her finger affectionately went up to tip his nose before coming back to her side. "They won't stay long, I promise."
"Feh. Trunks has been away seven days. Do you really believe we will have anytime to ourselves afterwards?"
"We have had this place to ourselves for a whole week, Vegeta." She walked around him to get to the covered grill, continuing over her shoulder, "I would think your carnal needs would have been satisfied by now. I think a break wouldn't--eh" Vegeta had come up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waste; pulling her to him. He held tight while speaking quietly into her ear. "You think too much, onna." His hand strayed to press on her lower abdomen. "You know better than to deny the Prince of Saiyans."
The warmth of his body spread through Bulma causing her to sigh with regret. Her hands enveloped his and she pressed her cheek to his. "You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?"
Vegeta released her and his hand cupped her chin to pull the woman's lips to his. He kissed her with a gentle but seductive passion and then moved away, leaving Bulma to linger on what delights she would be missing. "I will bring out what you have prepared from the kitchen." He walked to the terrace door and added over his shoulder before going in, "Do not expect my help after their arrival."
Bulma blew at her bangs in frustration and wondered if there would ever be a good time to tell her Prince that they would be returning a favor by having Gohan and Goten stay with them for a week.
The heavy tray was child's play or more accurately: a servant's chore. Vegeta mildly scoffed at himself for compromising his elite station. But his reasons were valid. He now considered Bulma to be his equal. His onna found no shame in those that labored for who they cared for. It was an earthly characteristic he would attempt to emulate for the sake of his Earth family… Damned if the Prince would extend it to his like kind, though. Regardless of his personal regard for Kakarot, he was a low class Saiyan, and his status will remain so.
Bulma met him on the way back to the terrace. Her smiling self had to block his way. "You want this?" threatened Vegeta and shoved the tray to her. The woman's hands flew up in mock defense and she backed away.
"No, no. You can leave it on the table outside." After they passed each other, Bulma turned back and added. "Thanks, hon. I owe you one."
"Many," murmured the prince.
Vegeta spoke over his shoulder as he walked with a voice that demanded attention. "You will owe me many."
Knowing Vegeta's desire to speak and understand their language as if he were a native himself, Bulma offered before she ducked into the kitchen, "Plenty is better."
Vegeta stopped and smirked. His voice trailed down the hall and found his onna's ears. "Fine, have it your way. Plenty is much more than many." He waited, heard Bulma hit something in frustration, and then walked outside chuckling to himself. He had tricked her again. Now he would be on guard for Bulma's attempt to get him back. And, although plenty would be a wider range of things, Bulma knew that Vegeta expected nothing but complete satisfaction on her promise. Gods, this Saiyan Prince was fortunate to come upon this planet. Vegeta supposed he should be thankful for Raditz wanting to retrieve his little brother.
After Vegeta put the tray down, he went back to leaning against the dwelling and pondered his fate. He dared to think what would have become of him, had he not met Kakarot and more importantly, the onna that never gave up on him. Would he have survived Frieza? Would he have fulfilled his destiny and become a Super Saiyan? Would he have ever known amity? Or, that humanistic emotion "love" from another?
Bulma returned to the terrace with a huge plate of various meats to grill. Her small grunts of burden did not bring her any assistance. She dropped the heavy plate on the tray next to the grill. There was still no reaction from his royal highness; not even a chuckle. Locking her jaw, she was prepared to give Vegeta a deserved dirty look. After all, he had said he would help until her guests arrived. But when she turned and saw him, she had changed her mind. His somber face was staring at the ground again. Surprisingly, the azure eyed woman walked up to him without being noticed. Bulma lovingly caressed his cheek and asked pouting, "Will you ever be truly happy?"
Vegeta's eyes averted to hers but they remained unseeing as he proposed, "That would mean acceptance…" His eyes came into focus and he rebuked coldly, "In a Saiyan's eyes that would mean defeat."
Bulma smiled and she took his hand to take him back to the kitchen, "Lighten up, will ya? Just for today; for me ok?"
Vegeta's devious expression returned easing Bulma's caring apprehensions. "What's in it for me?" he asked seductively as he allowed her to lead him down the hallway.
With a sparkle in her eye, Bulma glanced at Vegeta and said one alluringly enticing word. "Plenty."
(Endulge me...please review.)