A/N: Not happy with it, but I'm tired of it and I've lost interest. April 19, 2011 (tree 2/2). From Black & Blue LJ community prompt Tree. Vaguely edited October 22, 2011. I've figured out what I'm going to do with these little drabbles. I'm going to string them together because I have a story idea, I think, brewing. Yes, I am working on everything else, in fact I am taking a break from it now to post this.
She was sitting on her toolbox in the crossroads of two shadows. Her long hair had been relaxed from her updo of curls, now it was parted into two long loose pigtails hanging over her chest, the bottoms of each long enough tickle her thin waist. She leaned back, putting her weight on her palm. Her legs were stretched on either side of the box; her shorts were long today, running to her knees. Her white t-shirt's wide and deep v-neck slipped low enough to allow the swell of her breast and a thick strip of her black satin bra to peek at the outside world.
She sucked at the icy treat in her other hand, running her lips around it a few times before starting to move it up and down between her lips. The Popsicle erupted from her mouth with a pop. She wielded it like a pointer and made a motion in his direction, "are you done yet?" she whined. "It's hot out here and I have plenty of other things to do today!"
He scowled down at her; eyes fixated on hers as he 'hrmped' and crossed his arms. "Be quick about it." She remained sitting, and was once again sucking at her treat on a stick. He watched a lone bead of sweat trickle down her jaw line, before slinking down her neck and into the crevice of her breasts. He liked the luminosity the thin covering of sweat brought her skin; it gave her colour, and heightened his peripheral awareness of her.
She leaned down and produced a package for him. He grasped it warily, and she motioned for him to hurry with it. Unwrapped and between his fingers on a long wooden stick stood a tall vivid purple distinctly phallic shaped cold treat. "sss gaaap!" she mumbled out from behind her pink treat. "Seriously? Still? Fine, come here." She leaned forwards and grasped his wrist, pulling his treat towards her. She reached out her pink tongue and licked the top of it. "See, all good!" The purple snack didn't move. She rolled her eyes, sat up straight and leaned forwards again, this time rolling her entire mouth down and back up. The treat was glossy now, and she could taste the grape mixing in her mouth with her watermelon – a nice combination.
He sat down heavily on the box, his side to her. There was something amusing in the view, but she kept it to herself. Here he was, a mass galactic murder sitting on a toolbox, hunched over trying to eat a frozen summer treat without dripping on himself. The food here made him do funny things he'd admitted to himself a long time ago. A lifetime of gruel, scraps, and infrequent meals made him appreciate the odd foods of the mudball her was on. In a past life he would have snubbed the treat most likely. Here though, and now he'd not refuse. Vegeta had never eaten like this before, and secretly harbored a gluttonous mindset about it. If he didn't eat it now, when would he get the chance in the future?
The woman was playing with one of her plaits of hair with one hand while licking and sucking at her treat in the other. It was easy to become distracted with this one, she frequently engaged in behaviors she was unaware she was performing. He'd learned early on that she was a bit 'off' from the rest. She was unafraid of him, and more then certainly unwilling to put up with his bullshit as he quickly found out. She had a short temper, and was she ever unafraid to use it.
He'd called her gorgeous on Namek and he'd been right. She was even more stunning when examined up close. She even smelt delicious to him. It was some sort of a divine test of his patience, or maybe a joke. He was constantly battling himself; train, or indulge in all the excessive pleasures of this planet. This was truly his first opportunity to really choose for himself. He was perpetually experiencing an ongoing internal argument as to how he could feed the rest of his appetites.
He'd decided early on that he would do his best to keep access to this place open to him. It was a paradise for him in his limited experience with pleasures, the food was freely given, the training tools, and equipment readily appeared to him. His understanding of his newfound freedom though was limited to his basic needs, food, shelter, and training. In exchange he would fight the artificial humans, an acceptable trade of services he thought. There was no need to use excessive force when he could get what he needed with far less effort. It'd taken only minimal prodding and a bit of observation. The woman was useful, she was the lynchpin in his decision to remain and train on this planet. She actively sought him out to improve her training materials; this was why she was sitting next to him now.
He'd been watching her from the corner of his eye, having finished his own treat a few moments ago. She, however, was still sucking up and down on hers. Her motion reminded him of those otherappetites that required attention. He shifted to fully watch her, she was too engrossed in eating to recognize his gaze, much less realize how erotically she seemed to take to devouring the Popsicle. It was a race for her tongue to catch all the dribbles as they rolled down the ice nearing her fingers.
His mind was drifting as he watched her bob over it, fixating on her lips and the shape they made. He was starting to entertain thoughts of 'what if' while he watched her. She suddenly pitched forward one hand under her chin to catch falling pieces of pink ice. He could hear crunching as she destroyed the ice in her mouth, quickly popping the last pieces in before they could melt in her palm. She licked the last droplets from her hand before standing.
He stood and marched into the gravity room. She would follow, she always did. They had work to do; the androids were coming.