Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Taste of Heat ❯ Royal Lemonade Vows ( Chapter 16 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Taste of Heat
Royal Lemon Vows
By Trynia Merin
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ Toriyama does. This is fan fiction.
Note: I promised a LEMON at the end of last chapter and I forgot to put it in so here it is! Forgive the mix up!!
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An entire month passed by before Vegeta returned. In the meantime, Bulma retreated to her lab to build more devices with her father. Neither parent asked about Vegeta's absence, figuring he had gone away to train for the upcoming Android threat. With red eyes and a hurt shoulder she was nursing, Bulma crawled off to bed after most meals. Her skin was pale, and she often drank ensure or other nutrients for the sake of the life growing strong inside her.
One particular evening, Bulma lay curled up on the bed. She rubbed her belly, letting tears spill down her face. Just why had he hurt her so? In all the time she'd known him he had come close to choking her once or twice, but she thought he was beyond this. Bulma sat up in bed, hugging herself.
"Oh baby, what am I going to do about your father…? I hate him and love him… and I miss him," she whispered.
Dried crusty remains of tears lingered on her cheeks. She rose from the bed, waddling over to the mirror to look at herself. Blue eyes stared back from a haggard face. They were red with countless tears. Over and over she had replayed that day, wondering what she had done wrong.
It then dawned on her like a sunrise. She glanced to the radiance of three lines sinking down. The setting sun was shining through the Venetian blinds, obscuring her view of West Central City. She mumbled, "Abuse. He's just like an abused child, and he's abusing me. He doesn't realize what he's doing!"
"Still that doesn't mean I should let him get away with that, stupid son of a bitch!" she hissed, clenching her fists.
"No, it shouldn't," answered a hoarse voice.
She wheeled on the figure standing just inside the doorway. His clothes were torn in many places, his armor battered and pitted. Vegeta's eyes were red rimmed like hers.
"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, making fists.
"I don't the hell know, woman," he grumbled, wandering into the room. "Am I welcome, or should I fucking leave now?"
"You tell me," she said fixing him in her icy gaze. Turning away, she hugged herself tightly, resting her arms on top of her beach ball sized belly.
Vegeta reached absently for a bottle of cologne resting next to her Chanel no. 5. He recalled Bulma buying it as a Christmas present, along with that silly Bejitasei T-shirt. Turning it over in his hands, he swallowed hard with the lump that had formed. "As if I need to explain anything to you, woman…"
"If you don't have any good reason, then beat it," Bulma said flatly, wandering over to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony.
"I…" Vegeta muttered, plunking the bottle of cologne down.
"Well?" Bulma wondered, tapping her foot.
"I've come to… a… I've come to…"
"Come to WHAT? Spit it out, jerk face! I'm exhausted!" she snarled, shooting a poisonous glance over her shoulder at him.
Vegeta bowed his head, averting his gaze. Bulma blinked in shock. Never had he done that before. Tightly she hugged herself, trembling with need and a million emotions boiling beneath the surface. At that moment he looked lost and humiliated. Both fists were at his hips, clenching and unclenching. Gritting his teeth, Vegeta grunted, "I've come... I've come to fucking apologize damn it!"
"I didn't hear that…"
"Are you deaf, female? I said I was fucking SORRY, all right?" Vegeta yelled.
His loud voice cut through her like a Kamehameha wave. Inside her belly the infant Trunks seemed to turn a summersault. Bulma's chin trembled. Yet a part of her didn't want to let him off the hook so easily. Vegeta watched her shoulder blades shift beneath the purple robe decorated with stars that he often wore after their sex. Finally Bulma turned slowly around, gazing forlornly at her mate.
"Oh Vegeta, it's not that easy. I accept your apology but I can't forget what you did," she said.
"I would NEVER kill you or the baby, damn it!" Vegeta snapped, pointing at her in anger. "How DARE you accuse me of such…"
"Because, you were abused. And you were striking out at me as a target. I understand now, Vegeta. Freiza was an abuser who did horrible things to you. You had no real parent other then your father, and he died a long time ago. You had nobody but the others to relate to, so that's why you act the way you do. I can't forget, but I can forgive."
"Did I ASK for your understanding?" he gritted.
"No, but you have it, so shut up and listen to me, damn it!" Bulma yelled back.
Vegeta blinked at the volume in her voice, backing down a bit. His armor rose and fell with the deep breaths he drew. A fight verbally he could deal with, he realized. "So what the fuck do you have to say?" he mumbled.
"I mean that I fucking understand that abuse is a cycle. And I can't expect you to suddenly change overnight. Because that's not you. But you scared the shit out of me, Vegeta. I thought you'd kill Trunks and me if I said the wrong thing! And I'm SORRY I opened my fucking goddamn mouth. But I have a RIGHT to know I'm safe! I won't be terrorized, even if I do understand WHY you lashed out at me!"
"Woman, I don't know what to say," Vegeta mumbled, turning around. He paced a slow orbit, glancing at her thoughtfully. Bulma noticed how he hugged himself tightly in the precise manner in which she did now. Both felt so lonely in that room at that moment it was pitiable. How did the chasm open up so deeply, yet hit so close to the mark?
"Say you'll never let it happen again?" Bulma asked, slowly striding up to him. "And I'll promise to watch what I say, and not mention you or your past in such a stupid way again. And that I have your word as the Saiyan no Ouji that me and my son, our son will never come to harm by your hand?"
"Very well. I swear as the Prince of all Saiyans you shall not come to harm by my hand. Are you happy now?" he asked quietly.
She frowned. Vegeta cursed under his breath, adding, "I swear on my oath to best Kakkarot."
"That's better," she exhaled, and then felt her knees weaken.
"So, does this mean I'm still banished from this domicile?" Vegeta asked.
"You can come home, you lunk head, because I fucking miss you," Bulma swallowed hard, her chin wobbling.
Vegeta saw her squeezing herself tightly. Swallowing his pride, he stiffly raised his arms and stepped towards her. His gloved hands bracketed her arms, giving them a light touch. He rested his forehead to hers, and then slid his hands down to encircle her hips. Bulma then realized this was the closest to initiating a hug he had ever come, and it was costing him dearly.
"I missed you too, woman," he murmured. Bulma leaned over and bit his ear gently. She squeezed his neck tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. Vegeta's arms crushed her protectively close, yet restrained from harming her or the baby.
"Don't ever let me go," she sniffled. "Damn I'm some wimp crying."
"Females cry on this planet," he grunted. "It's a reality. I suppose I cannot expect YOU to change your ridiculous ways."
"Jerk," she chuckled, kissing his neck and rubbing his muscular back. Although it was difficult through his armor. He lifted a brow when he felt her fingers moving to the fastenings.
"Let me. You'll take too damn long," he complained, backing away. He undid the straps and tossed the breastplate down on the floor. Then he walked towards her, laying his hands on her robe. She slid her fingers under the shirt, slowly tugging it up and over his head while he raised his arms. Soon his boots and blue training paints joined her robe in a commingled pile on the floor.
Vegeta picked her up in his arms, carrying her towards the bed. He lay her down, sealing her gasps with a hot kiss. She moaned, realizing he had greatly improved since she had taught him those months ago. Against her mouth she chuckled.
"What?" he snorted.
"Take the gloves off, please?" she asked.
"Stupid pain in the ass," Vegeta mumbled, grabbing them and peeling them away. Bulma sighed with delight as his soft hands touched his skin to hers, causing him to hiss in surprise as well.
"I know you don't like being touched unless it's for a reason," she said.
"Humph," he mumbled, confirming her suspicions.
"You don't have to wear those around me," she said quietly. "At least during sex. Any other time I don't care."
"You have SOME sense of decency," he snorted with relief. Rolling her over on the bed, he began to make love to her to show her how he had missed her. He slid his hungry length into her depths, pumping his hips to fill that empty void.
“I love you Vegeta,” she said inside her mind, afraid she would scare him away. He was that lost little boy who desperately needed understanding even if he didn't want it. Yet he had to stop being the victim and step up to change his destiny. Choose the path of love not hatred and fear.
As she screamed his name she knew that her concept of love was alien to him. Somehow she would have to show him little by little or else he would run in fear. Perhaps that was why he had left, fear of moving beyond that comfort zone misery provided. Love to her was alien as well, for her idea of love was that romanticized Cinderella looking for her prince. Ironically she HAD found him, and both of them were bitter, hard lonely people who had no conception of something they both needed.
“We'll learn together,” she thought. A surge of blue ki preceded the somersaulting of the baby pressed between his parents. Blue ki sizzled around Vegeta's body, surging into hers to wrap her in that intense high.
“I don't understand Woman; can't you realize I have no concept of this damn weakling thing you call love?” Vegeta gritted as he lay with his head in her shoulder.'
“I don't either, Vegeta. Don't worry about it,” she mumbled.
“I can't be soft and wimpy and weak,” he whispered. “That's what that fool emotion love is from what I've seen from your loser friends. I want no part of it. It will destroy me.”
“That's not what I want, Vegeta. That's not love. I don't think anyone understand what it is. If that is what love is, I don't want it either. I just want you, Vegeta. In my life in any way you can be,” Bulma gasped, shivering in his arms.
“That I will be, on my terms,” he nodded.
“I don't want you to lose your pain Vegeta. I don't want to FIX you, damn it. So don't you DARE go putting words into my mouth,” Bulma said, thrusting her hips up to him. “You're the father of this child and that's enough. Just don't go dying and leaving me and Trunks alone. Be the best damn warrior you can and beat the crap out of anyone if that's what it takes. Just don't…”
“That I vow, Woman,” Vegeta promised, erupting inside her. They both lay together, not knowing where she began and he ended.
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