Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Saiyan For All Seasons ❯ I'll Make You Sorry ( Chapter 5 )

A Saiyan For All Seasons

Chapter Five

I'll Make You Sorry

Disclaimer: I own my fantasies - that is all.

************************************************************

Much to her frustration, Vegeta had taken himself away. Or rather, he had taken himself away from her. The gravity room was still used, and she still caught glimpses of his shadow and the magnificent illuminations his ki created as he trained at night, but during the day it was like her guest had somehow turned into a ghost. The only knowledge she had that he was even there at all was the fluttering feeling that bombarded her spine whenever his massive-power was close.

Her wrist was fully healed now.

She was actually surprised at how little damage he'd done. After all - he wasn't exactly calm when he grabbed her. From her analysis of the joint and bruising, Bulma concluded that he'd merely pressed his thumb against a pressure point. It explained why she experienced so much pain when he held her and (in comparison) had suffered so little when he let go. He'd given her the warning he felt necessary, without risking serious injury. Bulma instantly cleared him of any blame and instead turned the situation into a positive---he cared enough to hold back, even through his anger. That spoke volumes to her and told her what his character was capable of.

Still, his absence was (for lack of a better word) depressing.

Before she had been comfortable in his aloofness because it was just part of his character, but now - well, now it was personal, and that was so much harder to take.

There were very few positives in her life at the moment. The only thing that seemed to keep her going was work and her own unconquerable drive and determination.

Some days she felt like she could take on the world and others - well, on others she couldn't see beyond the hard and impersonal woman she was starting to turn into.

Maturity had its price; Bulma knew this, but she missed the fun and adventure of her youth. She was even starting to doubt her own resolve. The scary part was she had almost gone full-circle, and was starting to feel the old despondency come back, the one she'd spent the last year trying to dispel.

On this day, however - on this beautiful, sun-filled spring day all depressing thoughts were easily put to the side. Today was all about having fun and celebrating the accomplishments of the last six months. At last the time had come to officially transfer Capsule Corporation - a full month earlier than planned.

Her father seemed especially relieved about this. It was hard for her to accept, but he was fast becoming an old man, and the rigours of business had started to tell in the haggardness of his features and the lack of energy and enthusiasm he displayed for his work. It wasn't a simple transfer, not for him - it was necessary to his health and to his peace of mind.

Tonight Capsule Corporation would become a bustling ground of entertainment and release. Friends and work colleagues alike would be there to celebrate the long awaited transfer. Tonight she would be herself again. Tonight she would shine and put on a performance like she never had before, and damn, she was looking forward to it.

The cards for her speech laid haphazardly on the patio-table, edited with a deep red marker and a dissatisfied mind. Throwing the pen down, she looked casually out across the lawn, watching the preparations take shape for the evening ahead. The gardens were a hive of activity. At the far end the electricians were stringing long rows of fairy lights through the palms, and to the left the carpenters were adding the finishing touches to a temporary dance-floor and stage.

Tonight was going to be fun. She had a sense for these things. There was just something in the air that seemed to lift her spirits and she was ready and eager to put any other worries behind her.

The double doors opened, and Yamcha walk out. He sat down in the chair opposite and passed her a can of soda.

After the heart-to-heart they shared in the winter, Bulma had entertained a hope that Yamcha's visits might become more frequent, but that hadn't been the case. His new lifestyle inevitably caused him to be absent more often than not, and their rare Saturday meetings had somehow become even scarcer. She couldn't blame him though. If she had anything other than work to distract her then she probably would have been just as negligent. Besides, he was always there for her when she needed him, and seeing him come over this lunchtime seemed to confirm his good intentions.

She smiled warmly and popped the can open. She couldn't allow her heart to become stuck in the past. They'd been too reliant on each other for too long. Time apart was probably best for both of them.

"So, how's the speech coming along?" he asked.

"All finished," she replied, sipping on her drink. "Now I can look forward to tonight without feeling guilty. Sun-Kun's definitely going to be here isn't he? I know what he's like."

"Relax, B. He'll be here. Chi was already starching his shirt and laying down the law when I stopped in earlier. She'll get him here."

Bulma chuckled, "Well with Chi on the case I'm not even worried. She'll get him here."

"That she will," he smiled.

"So?" she asked, poking him in the arm. "Who's the lucky girl tonight?

"Rai-Ellen." He grinned.

"It's a pretty name, but is she good enough for you?"

He laughed. "Don't you mean 'good enough for you,' Bulma? Who knows, but she's actually looking forward to meeting you - even after all the warnings."

"Warnings," she chuckled, fluttering her eyelashes, "Whatwould you need to warn her about? Oh, I know, that I'm so beautiful, intelligent and sexy that she'll be completely intimidated. I know how it is, you don't have to beat about the bush."

Yamcha laughed. "Well, there is that, but I settled for telling her that you're an egocentric ball-breaker. I hope that's okay?"

Bulma laughed along with her friend. "It's perfect!" she agreed. "But Rai-Ellen - Rai-Ellen…? Where have I heard that name before?"

"She's the swimsuit model for 'Titans TV.'"

"Ah! I remember now. She was the one in the yellow bikini at the beginning of the sport hour right?" She leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me she's going to have some more clothes on tonight."

Yamcha rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Unfortunately."

"You're such a slut now!" Bulma chuckled.

"Guilty as charged," he grinned. "So how about you?"

"What about me?"

"Come on, B. You're - let me think - 'beautiful, intelligent and sexy' so who gets to escort you tonight?"

"No one."

He blinked in surprise. "No one? Are you kidding me?"

"I wish I was, but I've been far too busy to worry about it."

He looked a little concerned. "But you're the belle of the ball. You have to have someone."

"Well, I don't, so drop it."

"Okay, okay!" he said, holding his hands up, "not another word. Only . . .?"

"What?"

He looked down at his can, and took a thoughtful swig from it. "I could always ring Rai-Ellen and cancel," he said, hesitantly. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I'll escort you instead, and then everything will be right. I can call her right now. It'll only take a second."

Bulma smiled and blushed slightly. He was such a sweetheart at times, but to accept would be to take a step back for both of them, and Bulma wasn't about to risk that, no matter how tempting the offer.

She shook her head, clasping her hand over his mobile phone, just as he was about to dial. "It's a lovely offer, Yamcha, really it is, but you know it's not right. I'm a big woman now. I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone to hold my hand, and I certainly don't need a man to have a good time."

He raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"I mean it. Tonight is my night. Why would I want to share it?"

"And you're sure?" he asked. "I don't know, B. It just doesn't seem right for you to be on your own."

"But I won't be, will I? I'll have my family here and all my wonderful friends. That's the most important thing."

Yamcha seemed to accept this, and nothing more was said on the subject. He left soon after because he had forgotten to pick his suit up from the drycleaners. He practically sprinted to his car in order to get the other side of the city before the shop closed.

Bulma continued to watch, even when he was out of sight, happy to see him back to his normal dopey self. He always managed to cheer her up. If only she could be this happy more often. She hated lying to Yamcha, but, to save her own feelings, she'd done just that.

The stark truth was - not all those she considered friends were going to be there.

Before the gravity room incident, she had always pictured Vegeta being involved in her celebration of the coveted 'CEO' title, even if it was only preventing him from incinerating her guests. Vegeta wasn't going to be there - and though her strength and spirits were high - her heart was less content.

She missed their weird conversations. She missed those charcoal eyes on her face, and she even missed him ordering her about. At least she still had her dreams to fall back on, and no matter how much he ignored her, he couldn't take those fantasies away.

**********************************************************

Day gently slipped into evening and as the stars became visible over West City, the celebration at Capsule Corporation started to come alive. Yamcha had arrived back half an hour later than he said he would, but (in Yamcha terms) that was acceptable. He admitted to Bulma that he'd had to capsulate his car and fly the rest of the way in order to get his tux before the shop closed, exclaiming that for a while he thought he'd have to come in his just his boxers. Both she and Rai-Ellen had laughed at him for it, and he'd scratched his head and laughed with them as his cheeks burned red.

Rai-Ellen looked just as stunning in real life as Bulma remembered seeing her. She was your typical page-three model, with white-blond hair, flawless tanned skin, legs up to her armpits and breasts that would look disproportionate on a woman twice her size. Still, she was good-humoured and polite, and seemed to care for Yamcha. Bulma knew the relationship wouldn't last, but then she likewise knew that neither of them probably wanted it to either. It didn't bother them, and if this was what made her friend happy, then who was she to object?

Chi Chi and Goku had been some of the first guests to arrive. Chi had come armed with her usual gift of food, complete with directions on how to reheat it.

Krillin and Master Roshi arrived not long after. Bulma was glad to see the old Turtle Hermit had left his Hawaiian shirt at home. He'd come in his official silk gi instead, and even though it was old and smelled like something Kitty would turn its nose up at, it was better than the alternative.

They hadn't seen each other in so long, and Bulma had spent a good majority of the first hour in a circle with them, catching up on all the gossip she had missed from Yamcha, and returning the favour by sharing everything that had gone on in her life, carefully omitting everything to do with Vegeta. Throughout it all Krillin kept a careful eye on his old master, only leaving once when the old man wandered suspiciously close to a group of her more junior female laboratory staff.

Old habits die hard, Bulma thought as she watched him flirt, but was too happy to care. Instead she silently marvelled over how easy it was to pick up her friendship with the Z fighters, even though she hadn't seen them for so long. Theirs was truly a friendship that would never die and it did her mind all the good she had hoped it would to be in their company once again.

By the time Krillin returned from subduing Master Roshi, a few of the guests were taking the first stumbling steps onto the dance floor. They were watching the commotion from the dubious comfort of a wrought iron bench.

"Yamcha tells me you've been trying to get closer to Vegeta," Krillin said, popping the button undone on the front of his white jacket. "You're a lot braver than I am, Bulma. I don't mind admitting that he scares the hell out of me."

She shrugged her shoulders. "He's not so bad when you get to know him."

"So what?" he said. "Are you two friends now?"

Bulma smiled slightly, and for a moment she contemplated telling him the whole story, but that wasn't possible. Vegeta had asked her to keep his admission a secret, and she had given her word.

"I'm more than willing to be his friend if he'd let me," she said, deciding to keep it truthful and short. "But he hasn't done that yet. It's just one of those things. Vegeta goes his own way."

"That sounds like him," Goku said, stretching along the bench and taking up most of it.

"It must be pretty strange - living with him, I mean," Krillin added.

"Not especially," she sighed. "I don't see him very much. Oh! I know he's about. Dad's been working on repairs to the GR, and I've heard explosions from it in the middle of the night. I just don't get to see him very often."

"Well, that's weird," Krillin said, thoughtfully cupping his chin and looking at Goku.

"It is?"

"Well yeah! We saw him just a minute ago."

"You did?" Bulma was full of astonishment. "Where?"

"Right there," he said, looking over the bushes and towards the GR.

"Oh. He was training." She sighed. "It figures."

"Training?" Goku shook his head. "No, he wasn't training; although I did ask if he wanted to spar, but it's probably best he said no. Chi would have killed me, even if he hadn't."

"So what was he doing?" she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"Not a lot really," Krillin said. "He was on top of the gravity machine thingy, just watching everyone." He shivered. "It was creepy. I bet you he was making a list of who he's going to torture first when all this android business is over."

Bulma knew it was pointless, but she turned to look at the GR anyway.

Nothing.

He would let Krillin and Goku see him, but not her. It couldn't have been anymore painful if he'd come out and punched her in the face.

"Arsehole!" she muttered.

"If you ask me," Goku interrupted. "I'd say he was looking at you, Bulma."

Krillin laughed, "Bulma gets to be tortured first. Someone got the short straw - don't worry though," he teased, "while he's occupied with you, the rest of us are going to leg it over to Goku's and hide behind him. What do you say Master Roshi?"

There was no response.

"Master… uh oh."

A woman shrieked from the middle of the dance floor, and Krillin held his head in hands. "Oh boy! Why did I have to volunteer to watch him tonight?"

Both Bulma and Goku looked at each other, and after a comical pause, burst into peals of laughter.

The laughter seemed to flow naturally as the evening progressed. Son-Kun recounted the time he'd gone to train with Tien and Chaotzu in the mountains, but Bulma's attention was, at best, divided. She couldn't get over the fact that Vegeta was showing mild interest in what was going on and, according to her friend, showing particular interest in her. Did she dare to hope that he might not be as indifferent as he appeared?

As confusing as these thoughts were for her, they weren't allowed to fester long. Being the toast of the party meant socializing was the top priority, no matter what else was going on, and Bulma's father had soon interrupted the reunion to whisk her away for a pre-arranged press conference. It took place in the reception area and a bottle of champagne was passed from father to daughter in a symbolic gesture to the contracts that had long-since been signed.

Even when that had been completed there wasn't a chance to relax. As soon as the last interview was out of the way, she was swept back to the party and escorted by her parents onto the makeshift stage.

Her speech about 'adding to Capsule Corporations long-term stability,' and 'the privilege of being allowed to continue her father's legacy' complimented the reminder 'that the high standard of work over the years was only possible because of the commitment and amazing work ethic shown by those she was fortunate enough to call employees,' was, perhaps, a little predictable, but well received none-the-less, and celebrated with more champagne.

As the evening faded, Bulma knew the party had been a triumph and was happy in the knowledge it would be talked about for years to come. The celebrations didn't so much end as gradually slow down, gently running out of steam. Some guests only stayed for her speech, others until the band stopped playing, and the last stayed into the early hours of the morning.

Looking across the littered lawn and reflecting on a very pleasing night, Bulma put a cigarette to her lips and lit it. Bunching up her long silver-blue evening dress she sat down on the bench Krillin and Goku had shared with her earlier. She didn't want to go to bed. Hell, she wasn't even close to tired and with the garden heaters still on and coating her bare arms with warm air, she wasn't in the least bit cold.

Her head was swimming a little.

As far as alcohol consumption was concerned she'd been relatively good, but champagne always went straight to her head. Maybe that was why she was startled to see a figure walk sedately around the bush and take a seat next to her. If she had been less intoxicated she would have felt him long before. Then again, she hadn't seen him in what felt like so long she guessed her amazement still had its value.

He didn't speak to her, but Bulma wasn't exactly surprised. Not wanting to break her long-held promise, she put up with his company for a while, and it seemed as though nothing was likely to break the silence.

The clattering of the caterers as they cleared up around them was the only thing she had to distract herself from the enigmatic man next to her, and despite her resolution not to speak, Bulma still felt it impossible to completely ignore his presence. His figure almost seemed to demand attention and she found her eyes wandering to his face on more than one occasion.

Why was he there? If he only came to think undisturbed, why choose to sit next to her?

She didn't want to leave, but if he was going to ignore her, then what was the point in staying? She could be just as easily ignored somewhere else rather than have it rubbed so cruelly in her face. Stubbing out her cigarette, she stood, her dress falling with a slight rustle. She didn't have to put up with this bullshit, and she wasn't about to let Vegeta ruin what had otherwise been a very enjoyable evening.

"Stay!"

Bulma paused. His voice was low and demanding, as always. She was determined not to face him. She was too proud and hurt by his recent behaviour to do that, but she didn't walk away either.

"Stay," he demanded again.

"Well," she said. "That all depends, doesn't it, Vegeta?"

"On what?"

"On whether or not I have a reason to."

"True," he said. "But you'll never know for sure if you leave."

As much as it angered her, Vegeta was right. What exactly would she accomplish by going? Didn't she miss him, wasn't this what she wanted - to be in his company once again, and reawaken their dormant friendship? He wanted her to stay. Didn't she owe it to her own sanity to do as he asked, even if it was under the guise of a demand?

Turning around, she grudgingly took her place back on the bench. "Fine," she muttered.

"Good," he snapped.

"So are you going to tell me why you want me to stay?"

"No. Your company will be all - for now."

Bulma was a little surprised. He'd purposefully kept himself away for over four months, why should he suddenly want to be near her now?

"You seem to be doing fine without it recently," she said, feeling compelled to voice her thoughts.

"Do I?" he snorted. "That's a matter of opinion."

"Oh?" she asked, curious as to where his thoughts were headed.

"Nothing, Woman," he growled. "Pay me no mind."

For the first time since interrupting, he looked directly at her and she felt something flutter up her spine as those orbs pinned her to the spot. They seemed to be looking both at her and through her at the same time, holding a silent challenge.

"Kakarrot," he said at length, the lines of his forehead creasing angrily as he spat her friend's Saiyan designation. "He was here earlier. Why? For what reason?"

Bulma frowned. "Well, I hear he offered to spar you, and although I'd be more than happy to let him kick your arse, he's my best friend. Tonight was special for me and as my friend, I wanted to him to share it with me."

Vegeta snorted, looking away. "You have bad taste in friends."

She laughed. "Only where you're concerned, Vegeta."

He chuckled slightly at that. "So, you're still determined to be an idiot then?" He shook his head. "I should have known as much. Stubborn, foolish woman! Friends indeed, what a joke! You have no idea how much I'm starting to hate that word."

"Oh believe me, Vegeta," she replied dryly, "I think I do."

"Really? And do you likewise know why I hate it?"

Bulma titled her head to look at him, "Not entirely, but I can take an educated guess. You're a proud man, and to form a friendship with anyone would mean you'd have to make an obligation to someone other than yourself."

"A reasonable deduction and not wholly without foundation," he agreed, "but then I have also come to realize that there might some benefits to it."

He shifted in the seat and leaned back next to her.

"You have?" she asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

"Yes. I might not like the concept, but I do not think I would be totally incapable of it, were the right person to come along."

"And?" she prompted.

"And what?" he snapped.

"Has the right person come along yet?" she asked, vainly primping her hair and smiling.

He laughed out loud, shaking his head. "Not a chance in hell, Woman! Believe me. If I were ever to have a friend, then I could think of none worse than you."

Bulma frowned. How dare he! How dare he fuck about with her in this manner? Nothing had changed, and yet here he'd been leading her into believing it had. Ugh! She was such a moron.

He was still laughing, the biting sound, carrying on the night breeze. "What did you expect, Woman? I've told you on countless occasions that friendship has never been what I want from you. Perhaps it might have worked if you'd have kept that damn mouth of yours shut, but as it is, you will pay for your cockiness. I have given you warning and I have likewise given you plenty of time to understand it, but you have chosen idiocy over reason and your time is up. I said I would make you sorry for it, and one way or another, I'll do just that."

Bulma stood, indignant and angry. "Fuck you!" she spat at his arrogant and laughing face. She'd had enough. Who the hell did he think he was? Her emotions weren't there for his amusement, and she was fed up of having them thrown in her face. Angry and upset she walked away. How dare he!

She walked towards the house, determined to take her anger and frustration out on any inanimate object she could find, but she never made it that far. Vegeta moved quickly. She walked slap bang into him, the force almost knocking her off her feet.

He laughed down at her, catching her wrist, in order to steady her. "Oh no, Bulma," he whispered cruelly. "Escape is not an option."

"Let go of me!" she spat, lashing out with her free hand. She was tired and emotional. Maybe she wasn't thinking straight, but her mental strength was all she had left. It was on the verge of being snapped and she wasn't about to let him see as much.

He easily caught her hand as it flailed towards his face. She tried to pull away, but it was like trying to pull a planet out of orbit. His hold didn't budge. The only sign that he'd felt her struggle was when his grip changed and he effortlessly twisted her arms across her front and turned her so her back was pressed against his solid chest, making it impossible for her to move.

There was nothing she could do to escape, and she felt slightly embarrassed at having lost her temper so openly.

"What are you going to do next, Bulma? Do you want to fight me, is that it?"

"No."

"Because you know it will be useless?"

"Yes."

"If I let you go, will you run?"

She shook her head.

"I don't believe you," he whispered. "But that's okay. I have a few questions for you first anyway. Tell me, do you remember what you said last autumn?"

Bulma didn't respond. She had no reason to. How was she supposed to remember a conversation from that long ago? It was utter lunacy, but despite this, despite the humiliation of being restrained by him, she felt the desire spark. The one she had kept hidden for months, the one that she dreamed about at night, and the one that liked the idea of being held captive by him - being at his mercy and feeling his wonderful body pressed so tightly against her own. Traitorous, traitorous, body!

"You said," he continued, knowing she wasn't in a position to answer. "You said that 'one out of three isn't so bad.' Do you remember now?"

Bulma's bit her bottom lip. Was he serious? Oh god yes, she remembered. The question was - what was he going to do about it? She knew what she wanted him to do. Those lips of his were so close to the lobe of her ear. She wanted him to shut up, and press them against her skin. His voice was sadistic, cruel, and painful, but his touch - his touch had the ability to take her breath away.

"I see you do," he continued, holding both her wrists with one hand, and reaching up to her flushed cheeks, the mirror of the gravity room incident, so many months ago. "But," he said, taking a section of her hair, and letting the aquamarine strands run through his gloved fingers. "The problem is, things have changed now."

"They have?" she whimpered, his gentle touch and low, seductive voice, turning her mind upside-down.

"Oh yes," he chuckled. "Now I know that you were wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Very wrong," he said. "No matter how much I have tried to ignore it, I have seen one, and found the other out, but this current situation leaves me with unanswered questions. Questions that, no matter how hard I have tried, I can no longer dismiss. Here I am, the prince and elite of my race, not able to get your insignificant presence out of my head. Do you realize this, Bulma? What you've done?"

Bulma shook her head. Oh god! What had she gotten herself into?

"I want you to show me, Bulma," he admitted. "I want you to show me if you really are all you claim to be? Are you really a slut between the sheets, or have I been obsessing over a myth these past few months?"

Left completely speechless, the blush burnt brightly across her cheeks.

"Tell me that you haven't wondered the same? Tell me that you haven't thought about having me in your bed as well? Deny it, Bulma."

The words were on her lips. She could almost hear them. "You're so wrong Vegeta!" they screamed. "You're oh so absolutely fucking wrong!" but no matter how many times she tried to spit them at his arrogant face, they wouldn't surface.

"Deny it," he said again, this time moving closer and laying his lips against her neck.

Damn it all to hell! Why couldn't she lie to him! His lips felt so good pressed against her skin, and she could feel his chest slowly rise and fall against her back as he enjoyed the taste of her flesh.

"I can't!" she sighed, letting her eyes flutter closed under the sensation. "I can't."

He sighed against her skin and let her wrists go.

"Then show me," he demanded. "Show me you're a slut!"

Free from his grip, she turned to face him, her legs feeling weak, and her head dizzy from the mix of champagne and adrenaline. All her anger was gone. His lips and words had worked the magic that nothing else could. She met his eyes head on, loving the way they gripped her with desire.

She smiled, and tilted her hips seductively. "With pleasure," she purred, and bridging the small gap, she boldly grabbed hold of his blue gi and pulled his unresisting lips to hers.

He chuckled. It was low and sensual, tickling her lips as they moved fluidly over his. "I will make you sorry for doing this to me, Bulma," he promised. "I will make you so very, very sorry."

***************************************************

A/N - This chapter was a lot harder to write than the others. I must have spent hours and hours going over it once it was finished. In the end I gave up and sent it to Lisa. She was such a sweetheart, and told me exactly what was wrong, and as ever, her magic has worked its wonders. What would I do without her! *Hugs Lisa until she turns blue.* ^-^

Thank you for the lovely feedback on the last chapter, it was a pleasure to read all the messages of support.

A quick reminder - If you wish to be added to my mailing list then there are two ways to do it.

1 - Email me at emberchan0703@yahoo.com Make sure you say its for the mailing list though, blank emails will get deleted.

2 - Review and tell me you want to be added. PLEASE, if you're going to do it this way, make sure you leave your email address. How can I send you notification if I have nowhere to send it?

See you soon for the next chapter.

*hugs*

Ember