Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Taste of Heat ❯ My Name is Mud ( Chapter 12 )

Cisclaiemr: I don't own Bulma or Vegeta. Or Dragon ball Z. Toriyama, Toei Animation Co limited do. This is fan fiction.

Notes: For some that figure Bulma and Vegeta seem a bit ooc here, one explanation is that they're suffering from addiction. Bulma to Vegeta's ki, and Vegeta to Bulma's presence. In other words both are addicted to love! If that sounds sappy, please forgive me, because it IS a PWP! In this chapter both of them suffer some resentment to what just happened, and suffer the withdrawl of being away from one another… eventually.

A Taste of Heat

Part 11-My name is Mud

Bulma moaned, feeling battered, bruised, and achy in places she didn't know she even had. Slowly she rolled over, patting the place next to her. It was vacant, with only the residual heat of the Prince left to tell her he'd been present.

"Damn it, I knew it was too good to last," she grumbled, rolling over. Royal blue curtains obscured the room, and she managed to sit up. Oddly enough she felt refreshed as she let her feet hit the floor. Bulma grabbed the royal blue robe that belonged to him, smelling his scent on it.

"I was such a wuss last night just letting him boss me around like that," she mumbled in annoyance. Wandering down the hall in his robe, she made her way to her room, and walked inside. No doubt Vegeta had tired of her and was downstairs in his blasted GR training again.

A hard knot formed in her throat, not having him there when she woke. It was only eight thirty in the morning on a weekday, and she had hoped he would cuddle her. Perhaps it was asking too much. "Why did I let the bum sleep with me, I'm getting weak," she grumbled, rubbing her face. At the back of her mind grew a suspicion that it had all been some elaborate diversion.

"Like an idiot I played along… and now he's nowhere to be found," she grumbled, then caught sight of the nasty bruise gracing her neck. Letting the robe drop she was horrified to see the state her body was in. All over her hips were red and purple marks in the shape of male fingers, while bitemarks festooned her neck and breasts. If she hadn't known any better she would swear she had been beaten up.

"That son of a BITCH, he's DEAD!" she growled, feeling resentment that he'd been so damn careless. Her flawless flesh was pockmarked with evidence of their hard sex. What blew her away was that she should very well be DEAD if it weren't for the fact that Vegeta had poured a massive amount of his ki into her body to bridge the exponential gap between their energy levels.

Snarling various obscenities she hurled off his robe and marched into the bathroom. Anger was born of resentment at the obvious marks of his presence on her body. She cursed herself for succumbing with the ease of champagne and the fact Vegeta had saved her life. It seemed rather out of character for him, and she half wondered if he would ever return to her bed again. Why was she feeling so mixed up, she wondered.

She let the water run for a long bath. Lavender soaps slid down her bruised flesh, while Bulma scrubbed off the sweat and musk from her night of passion. Soon she felt much better massaging the soapsuds through her hair. Sighing, Bulma lay back and let herself soak in the hot water, after putting on the steam jets. All thoughts of her marked body vanished with the scent of Calgon. If she opened her eyes perhaps she would see a Grecian temple and a hundred cabana boys rushing up to massage her and such.

"That's it, I need a trip to the spa," she said, snapping up. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around herself, and rushed into the bedroom. She grabbed her own robe and slippers, then made her way downstairs in a hurry.

"My my, aren't we a busy beaver!" her mother said.

"Mom don't use THAT word!" Bulma cried horrified.

"Aren't you glowing… did you have a good sleep?"

"Mom, stop," Bulma groaned. "Where's Vegeta?"

"Your young man ate breakfast early and said he'd be training all day…" said Bunny.

"Great, it figures…"

"Well he DOES have to work…"

"Which is why I wanted to ask you if you'd be up to a trip to the spa today?"

"Ohh dear, you read my MIND!" Bunny laughed, hugging Bulma. "It's been AGES! I'll make the call right away…"

"French Lick Springs," said Bulma. "The one with the CUTE cabana boys, and the mud baths…"

"Oh you know it! It will be SO fun!" Bunny laughed, rushing over to the phone. Bulma smiled, knowing a little pampering could chase any of the blues away. Hopefully those bruises would be unnoticed as she was immersed in a mud bath. Then when Vegeta came and saw she was missing, he would probably get annoyed. Maybe jealous?

That is if he noticed she was gone, Bulma thought to herself gloomily. Sighing she grabbed some coffee and a few croissants. After Bunny chirped her reservations over the phone, she came back, beaming to Bulma who was finishing the last golden flaky bits.

"We're all set for ten AM… oh this will be WONDERFUL! We'll get a massage, mud bath, and skin treatment, pedicure… full facial… we'll be NEW women! Won't that be FUN for our men?" she asked.

"Yeah, they'll miss us, right? I hope…" Bulma fretted.

"Are you worried that he's forgotten you?" asked Bunny, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Cheer up, princess… he's just being a MAN, and they get SO into their work that they'll snap into shape the instant they see us missing! Your father would get these spells when he'd be in his lab for DAYS… but he always DID come back to bed at night…"

"You always DID say men needed women for food and sex," grumbled Bulma. "And I think you're right… dang it…"

"That's my girl. Now let's get ready! I can't WAIT to spend the day with my little girl. You have to tell me ALL about what you and that wonderful young Prince Charming did yesterday…"

"Good grief, I don't know if this was such a good idea," she mumbled. She had hoped to get her mind OFF of Vegeta, not dwell on him!

***

Vegeta had berated himself for momentary bouts of 'weakness', but yesterday he was still reeling from. Had he actually admitted he liked her? "Damn it, I'm getting fucking soft… this damn planet…"

He grumbled various obscenities in a half dozen galactic tongues. One bot smashed to smithereens with a stray punch. Mumbling he went over every last event in his mind, wondering what had possessed him to act so… so… NICE. It was that bloody blue haired earth female no doubt. For some reason he was reduced to this simpering weakling in her presence. He didn't like it.

Perhaps he was addicted to the sex. Was that it, Vegeta asked himself? It dawned on him that he enjoyed that high. Since that was the case, he would do anything in his power to obtain it. Was that the basis of addiction? From his study of human culture addiction was something that one either controlled or didn't. In Vegeta's case, he was addicted to the high he got from obtaining power. Nothing felt better to him than proving he was the best. IN the woman's case, she enjoyed flirting with danger, smoking cigarettes, and other various substances.

"Am I addicted to HER?" Vegeta shuddered. Such that he would abandon all reason when wanting the high he got from having sex with her?

"Damn it," Vegeta cursed. "She's making me weak. That's it. Whenever I'm around her I abandon my true self. This can't be tolerated… and yet…"

Throwing his towel around his neck he marched into the locker room. Resentfully he fingered the mark on his neck where she had bitten him. A low sigh flowed throughout his body, and he realized soberly what he had done. With that mark she had sealed both their fates. "What have I done… what the hell has SHE done?" he thought. Perhaps she had beguiled him, or bewitched him. Or else he was at fault for letting her get under his skin.

"I can't let this go on. I need… to take CONTROL," he thought. Sighing he glanced about the ship, and knew his answer.

"This GR's a space craft. Perhaps I need to remove the source of addiction," Vegeta thought. Grimly he weighed his options. Addiction and weakness, and the chance of losing his position in the power struggle to regain supremacy over Kakkarot versus isolation from the source of the problem and his guaranteed success.

"Since she's already my mate, she belongs to me regardless. She has to see that she does not rule me," he nodded with a grunt as he showered, and went about making preparations. By the time she returned he would be long gone.

****

By the time Bulma immersed herself chin deep in mud, Vegeta was drifting out of her mind. A feeling of total relaxation claimed her body and soul with the seeping warm mud flowing around her. Sighing, she let them apply pieces of cucumber to cover her eyes, then leaned back as they applied the compound to her face. Every bruise melted, and she was again feeling pretty.

"I let him boss me around like a total dweebette," she reflected.

Floral scents seemed to bring back all reason. Her mother sighed blissfully next to her, "Isn't this the BEST?"

"Yes, it is."

"Next to sex of course," giggled her mother.

"Don't remind me," Bulma grumbled. Each event from the last few days she replayed, cursing herself for letting Vegeta order her around like that. If it had been any man, she would have not let him tell her the score. So why on earth did she allow Vegeta?

"Am I addicted to him?" she thought. Whenever they had been together, she had relished the highs of that crackling blue…

"Kuso… can I be addicted to his… his ki?" she thought in horror. She sat straight up, letting dark mud slide off her. Anger filled her, and she knew what she had to do.

"All right Vegeta, you think you're so smart making a fool of me…" she growled.

"Bulma dear, you NEED to lay still if…"

"Sorry Mom, just… having some difficulty relaxing," Bulma apologized. "I'm ready for a massage now…"

Quickly the attendants came forwards to help her out of the mud bath, and prepare her for the next step. Being waited on hand and foot reminded her that SHE was every bit as royalty in her own way as that alien Prince. If anything he should be pampering HER, not the other way around. Why she put herself into a subservient role was clear: it was to obtain that high from being around his chikara or ki.

"I'm such a pushover," she thought as they guided her toweled form onto a massage table. Two ladies smeared oil on their hands and began to work their fingers up and down her spine. Bulma released all tension in her body, thinking that she had figured out the problem.

Yet what was the solution, she wondered. Should she quit cold turkey, or find a means of replacing one addiction with another? Carefully she weighed the options: letting herself be dominated by a rude arrogant male, who only would deliver if she groveled, or cutting him off so she could regain her self respect?

The option was clear. "I have to stop this now. Find someone else or something else that gives me that high… but what?" Bulma thought. Perhaps some time away would clear her head.

***

Hours later, Vegeta flipped switches on the space ship console. He pulled on his spandex AE suit, and donned his armor. Preflight checks were all performed, and he had obtained enough food capsules to last him for at least six months. Dr. Breifs face flickered on the view screen, and Vegeta punched the button. "What do you want, old man?"

"Just making sure you've got all systems go," he said.

"Everything checks out. You'll be compensated for your assistance," Vegeta said.

"Heh, just enjoy your trip. Send me regular reports on your progress and we'll call it even," Dr. Breifs said nervously.

"My thanks, now leave me be," Vegeta snorted, punching the button and banishing Dr. Brief's face from his console. Another button depressed fired up the booster rockets. Around him Capsule 4 vibrated into life, rumbling through his boots. Such a primitive native spacecraft that required fuel, he thought to himself. As long as it took him into space, it didn't matter what conveyance he used.

Settling down into his chair, Vegeta ran his fingers over the coordinate buttons then checked his systems. Slowly the ship began to rise into the air. Gravity crushed down on him, but it was only a mere fraction compared to what he was used to training in. Far lesser than the heaviness of whatever addiction had bound him to this world.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed the screen. An air car was returning from a day's trip. He sensed a presence in his thoughts, then struggled to expunge it.

***

Bulma and her mother pulled up their air car. Both of them were chattering and admiring one another's fresh manicures and pedicures. A whole host of bags were stuffed into the trunk. While Bulma pulled up to the main garage, her mother glanced around the estate. Her woman's intuition told her something was amiss.

Several gate guards rushed up to the aircar that pulled to a stop. Rolling down her window, Bulma regarded the servant. "Enjoy your shopping Ma'am and Miss Briefs?"

"Yes. Could you go around and empty the bags? Take them to our rooms?" she asked.

"Of course Miss Briefs," the guard waved to several servants who rushed out.

"Pull the car into the garage and wax it, there's a good boy," Mrs. Briefs smiled sweetly, winking at the young men. Both ladies climbed out then walked homewards towards the main dome. Holding her hails out before her, Bulma nodded in satisfaction.

"Red is so your color darling," Bunny nodded in confirmation. She glanced down at the dusty pink she had selected.

"I think that he's going to flip when he sees it on you, right?" Bulma whispered.

"Your father is a sucker for a freshly pedicured woman," Bunny giggled.

Suddenly a low roar split the silence. Both women felt the earth rumbling under their sandalled feet. Bulma felt a horrid sense of something amiss. Quickly she broke into a run, heading towards her father's lab area. It could be only one thing, a spacecraft.

"OH DEAR, we have a spacecraft thief!" Bunny screamed, racing after her daughter.

"Shimatta… who on Chikyuu," Bulma cursed, forgetting all about nail polish and things feminine. Fire and smoke belched from a launch facility perhaps a quarter mile away.

Gracefully one of the spherical Capsule craft rose from its launch bay, engines ablaze. Red and white flames propelled it on an ever rising stream of smoke towards the heavens. On its side she could read Capsule 4 in tiny letters if she shielded her eyes with one hand. Her scientific brain grew numb with the possibilities.

"He didn't… did he?" Bulma gasped. The bottom dropped out of her soul at that moment. Numbly she raced into the lab complex.

Dr. Breifs shuffled down the hallway, singing to himself with joy. His new craft was getting tested for the longest stint since that lad Goku had taken one to Namek. Perhaps now he could get some peace and quiet without that blasted GR room blowing up every few days. He scratched his kitty under its chin, laughing, "Finally, no more long nights… eh?"

"Daddy!" Bulma called to him, rushing up. "What happened? Who took the craft…"

"Why that young man of course. He volunteered to test Capsule 4…"

"Vegeta… that son of a…" Bulma growled. She raced towards the complex.

"Bulma honey, it's too late… I gave my permission…" Dr. Briefs said. "Wait!"

"I'll teach HIM to leave me! That BASTARD! The NERVE of him leaving me before I yell at him!" Bulma screamed in anger.

By the time he caught up to her, he saw her standing looking at the launch complex through the observation window. Hands were clenched at her sides in fists. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "How COULD he! I was just going to give him a piece of my mind that he can't boss ME around! I can't BELIEVE he'd…"

"Honey, what's wrong? I thought you'd be GLAD to be rid of him, considering how much you complain about…" Dr. Briefs said quietly.

"Yeah, well I'm GLAD he's gone, good riddance!" Bulma spat, flouncing away from the screen. She stomped off, wiping away angry tears. Perplexed, her father rested his hands on his hips, watching his little girl rush back towards the house.

"I swear women are STILL a mystery to science," he thought.

Bulma struggled to convince herself that it was the best thing. He had forced her to quit cold turkey. Perhaps he had sought to do this all along, humiliate her by giving her a taste of him, then depriving her. Maybe it was simply a Saiyan thing, to love a female and leave them. All that remained of him was that nasty purple bruise on her neck and an ache that wouldn't go away.

Sadly she glanced up at the blue skies, brushing away tears. Anger faded to that strange numb emptiness. Grumbling, she turned away, and sought the safe refuge of her lab. "Good riddance, I don't need HIM anyway!" she thought to herself.

"Who am I trying to kid," she whispered, pulling on a lab smock and retreating to her lab for the next few weeks.

**

TBC! I promise!