Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Free My Heart ❯ Chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ.
Bikram hot yoga. 90 minutes in a room that's 116 degrees (Fahrenheit). Seriously, why aren't I skinnier?
Free My Heart
Vegeta watched as Bulma knelt down then proceeded to lie back, her spine flat on the ground, her feet still tucked beneath her. Her soft gray shirt rose above her hips, the hem resting across her belly, leaving her lower body fully exposed. One black brow cocked in interest. He relaxed in his corner for the last hour watching as she twisted herself into a series of impressively agile poses. What the woman lacked in strength she definitely made up for in flexibility. A trait she had been more than willing to share during their bouts of intensely, fabulous sex.
He was thinking about initiating another heated encounter when her stomach rumbled loudly in the near empty room. Vegeta's interested expression deepened into a severe frown, as he receded into his dark thoughts. Bulma covered her stomach, sighing deeply.
“It's been two days since they fed us. Are we being punished?”
“No.” Vegeta stood up, and paced the back wall, his tail flicking behind him in frustration. Bulma cocked her head so she could look at him upside down. He was wearing his intense thinking face. The look he got when he knew something bad and wasn't telling her.
“Zarbon and Jeice should have been back five days ago.” Her voice was tiny, almost inaudible. Vegeta could hear fear. Fear of by just by saying their names, the monsters would appear and drag her away. His tailed whipped around, wrapping tightly around his waist in response to her upset.
“Something's wrong,” he muttered, coming to a standstill in front of the overturned bed frame. Every night since they first had sex, they lay together on their pallet on the floor, sheltered from the rest of the room. Bulma would curl around him, tucked against his chest. Her soft breathing would soothe his chaotic mind as he stared at the darkened ceiling.
There was closeness between them that made him distinctly uncomfortable. It was too fast, too spontaneous. On the surface he knew it was wrong. He shouldn't allow her into his space, such easy access to his body--so close to his thoughts. She had become a part of him in some fundamental way that was unacceptable. It put them both in mortal danger.
But all those logical thoughts were nothing compared to the feelings of male aggressiveness and possessiveness boiling just beneath in his primordial mind. The less he slept the more animal he became. He knew sleep deprivation was the answer to all his emotional quandaries. As soon as he had a good night sleep all of his misplaced emotion would disappear. His need for her had absolutely nothing to do with the fact he only felt warm when she was touching him.
The framework of the cot was lined with horizontal metal slats. He kicked the bed so it landed face down on their pallet, and planted his foot on the frame. He gripped one of the slats, yanking on it with all his might. The screws loosened, and wrenched away from the frame with a rending screech of metal.
Gracefully, Bulma rose to her feet, moving to the wall out of Vegeta's way. She watched silently as he crossed the room to the door. The dent Zarbon had made in the tiny panel had never been repaired so there was just enough room to push the metal slat between the main door and the slider. Vegeta hunkered down, easing the slat in carefully, and then jiggling it up and down until there was the sound of a latched being flipped.
Bulma gripped her shirt above her heart, suddenly too afraid to breathe.
“Vegeta, what about the guards?” she whispered frantically.
“There are no guards,” he stated matter-of-factly, as he pulled the bar out from the door, trying to get enough leverage to move the slider.
“How do you know?” Bulma moved closer to watch him.
“Because they would have fed us by now.”
“There have to be guards. Who's been turning out the lights at night?”
“They're automated.” The door slid back a couple of inches, giving Vegeta enough room to get a grip, and open it the rest of the way.
“But where could the guards have gone?” Bulma questioned worriedly.
The door open, Vegeta stood up, throwing her an annoyed glance.
“I don't know. But if we stay here we will starve to death.”
Bulma frowned, rubbing her empty stomach. She glanced at the tiny opening, then back up to Vegeta. He stared at her expectantly.
“Are you sure there are no guards out there?” she whispered, still scared. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, and nodded confidently. Bulma swallowed, her fear receding. She trusted Vegeta to know what he was talking about.
She knelt down by the opening, examining the height and width. It would be a very tight fit, but it was worth a try. The last thing she wanted to do was starve to death. Neither did she want to end up in the slave quarters. Whatever had the guard's attention, now was the perfect opportunity to make a jail break.
She placed her hand on the lower edge, wincing as it cut into her hand with a small amount of pressure. She looked back at Vegeta, but he just quietly watched her, trusting her to make the right assessment.
“Okay,” she exhaled, whipping her shirt over her head. She couldn't risk it getting caught on the edges, and she was going to need as much leeway as possible to squeeze through the tiny opening.
She extended her left hand first, knowing that getting her shoulders through was going to be the hardest part. For once she was grateful she had being doing yoga for years; not just for her tone body, but for the flexibility and muscle strength she was now going to need.
She pushed her head through, trying hard not to scrape her tender cheeks or ears. Her long hair caught on the edges and she closed her eyes against the sting of some tendrils being pulled from her scalp. She wrapped her right arm around her back, lowering her shoulder, so her body became a straight line. With her left hand planted firmly on the cold tile floor outside the door, she used the strength in her arm to pull her through the opening. As expected, her shoulder caught on the door. She paused for a moment, turning her head so she could check her surroundings.
The corridor was empty. She listened intently, but all she could hear was the sound of her own strained breathing. Satisfied she was alone, she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard, thinking about all the food waiting for her just outside the cell. All she had to do was squeeze herself through and she would be home-free. The rough edge of metal scraped over her shoulder, taking a goodly chunk of her skin. A warm coat of blood spread over her rounded shoulder and down her arm. The slickness helped her to slide through, and her shoulder popped out with a wet sucking sound.
She gasped, trying to hold back the tears. Her breasts were poised unprotected just behind the lip of the door, making her feel exposed. She closed her eyes against the raw, hot pain radiating from her shoulder. Suddenly she felt Vegeta's hand on her lower back. Warmth spread out along her spine, loosening the hard knot in her belly. He didn't say anything to her, but she felt his reassurance, his support.
She flexed her hand still behind her back, gratified when he twined his thick fingers in hers. She squeezed his hand, taking a big breath and lifted herself up so her back was pressed against the upper lip, her nipples skimming the lower edge. She pushed her way through, moaning a little as the sensitive skin of her back scrapped along the metal, but her breasts stayed relatively untouched.
Her narrow waist fit easily through the hole and she was able to pull herself out to her hips, releasing her other hand so she could rest all of her upper body weight on her forearms. She dropped her forehead to her hands, taking a much needed breather. Vegeta moved his grip to her ankle, his strong fingers banding around her reassuringly.
“I guess this is what it's like to be born?” she laughed shakily. Vegeta grunted behind her, his fingers tightening.
“I'm going to lift your legs to help you through. Just tell me when you are ready.”
Bulma nodded against her hands, knowing he couldn't see her. Her hips were going to be a problem. She had always been proud of their feminine swell. She rocked in low rise jeans, making other women jealous. However, right now, having no butt was sounding like a swell plan.
“Okay,” she called, steadying her upper body with her arms so she was in a straight line. Vegeta lifted her legs and gently pushed forward. She rocked on her arms, taking deep panting breaths as her skin caught on the edges, scrapping her raw. She clenched her mouth shut, moaning behind her teeth. Fire spread down her hips and across the fleshy part of her bottom. Her upper thighs caught and she bit down on the pain.
“Almost,” Vegeta assured her, but she thought for a moment she heard tightness in his voice. She slithered forward, gasping when she pushed free. Vegeta nudged her feet, helping her the rest of the way through. She rolled out on the ground, panting as fire spread across her skin with every breath.
She wiped the tears out of her eyes, before she looked behind her. She tried to smile when she saw Vegeta peering at her from the other side. His face was stoic, but she could see the banked fire behind the coldness of his eyes.
“I'm okay. Just catching my breath.”
He stared at her for a moment longer, before dipping his head in acceptance. He stood up, waiting for her to unlock the door. She slowly rolled up onto her knees, bracing her weight against the door to stand. Blood rolled down her thighs and dripped off her knees, more streamed down her arm, pooling in the hollow of her inner elbow. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she examined the heavy metal door. There was a heavy lever she had pull down to throw the bolt. She dragged all of her weight on it, gritting her teeth as it slowly moved.
Once free, Vegeta helped her to open the door. One perfect blue brow winged when she saw, Vegeta standing in front of her with no pants on. She scanned down his naked body, enjoying the view of his broad chest and thick thighs. His penis lay inert between his legs, but it gave a little twitch at her inspection. She cocked a half-smile at Vegeta he didn't return. Wordlessly, he strode up to her, using the soft gray material bunched in his hand to wipe her blood away. She winced, the burning across her skin feeling like a forest fire. Wanting to show him how strong she was, she did her best not to flinch away, and stood still under his ministrations. Thankfully, the painful, but superficial wounds were already clotting. She was going to need some bandages, but she would be fine for now.
Satisfied she was clean as she was going to get, Vegeta put the pants back on, now blotchy with blood. She looked away, uncomfortable with the sight, and retrieved her shirt. She was relieved she wasn't going to have to explore the ship completely naked.
When she exited the cell, Vegeta was already at the far end of the hall, peering out a tiny window in the door, looking for any guards. Finding none, he opened the door, confidently leading the way.
“Where too?” she asked, following behind him.
“Engineering. There will be computers so I can find out what the fuck is going on, as well as tools you can use to disarm the collar.”
Bulma glanced at the back of his head, surprised.
“You trust me?” Frankly, after the last time she almost blew them up, she was surprised he was even contemplating letting her get near the finicky circuitry.
Vegeta didn't answer, but the fine muscles across his back rippled. Once they dressed she would miss looking at his back the most. The minute dance of his muscles answered her more often than not. Once they were covered, she would be hard-pressed to decipher his stoic expressions.
They passed through empty corridors, the silence immensely unnerving. Frieza's ship was enormous. It should be swarming with people, not hauntingly empty.
They passed through another door, and Vegeta came to an abrupt stop. Bulma peered around his shoulder, her eyes widening in shock. She faced a bank of windows opening up to utter destruction. A huge chunk of the ship was missing, a scooped out hollow area, right in the center. It looked as if a bomb had gone off, or if someone had carelessly powered up.
Floors and walls were missing and she could see into entire rooms and empty hallways. They stacked on top of each other like cells in a hive. Wires sparked from severed electrical in the walls and floors, water bubbled out of piping. It was a huge, impassible mess.
Vegeta walked forward, pressing one forearm against the glass as he examined the devastation. Bulma stood beside him, taking it all in. She looked down, gasping when she saw stars. The entire bottom of the ship was gone. There was a thin blue force field, holding everything together, but she was surprised the whole ship hadn't ripped apart.
“Engineering is still intact,” Vegeta observed, and Bulma followed his line of sight across the expanse. All she saw were broken rooms and shambles.
“Shouldn't we have felt something of this magnitude? I mean. Half the ship is gone!”
Vegeta looked down at her, shaking his head.
“The lower dungeon is in between the two main stabilizers for the ship. The whole damn thing could have blown and we wouldn't have felt a tremor.”
“What do you think happened?” she asked eyes wide with curiosity and concern.
Vegeta shrugged, his wide shoulders rippling. “Battle.”
Bulma waited for more of an explanation, but Vegeta didn't have one. Instead he turned on his heel, stalking over to a double door leading out into the destruction.
“What are you doing?” Bulma snapped, panicked.
“We have to get to engineering.”
Bulma snorted. “I hate to break it to you, tough guy, but it might as well be in the next dimension. There is no way we are getting across that.”
Vegeta pressed his fingers between the two doors, straining to pull them apart. Bulma watched his muscles bulge and flex with the effort. The doors cracked, and then wrenched open loudly.
“We'll climb.” Vegeta stepped up to the edge, looking down into nothingness. Bulma came up beside him, looking down as well. Vertigo struck her, and she hurriedly hopped back before she fell over the edge.
“So not going to happen. You might be able to scamper around like some sort of monkey. No pun intended. But I sure as hell can't. Good luck. Call me when you get there.” She stalked up to the wall furthest from the door, sliding down so she sat on the floor with her legs crossed.
Vegeta was leaning out the portal, one arm braced on the frame as he tugged on some wiring on the outer wall. She heard an electrical crackle fizzle out into nothing. Vegeta pulled himself back in, looking over his shoulder at her.
Seeing that she planted herself on the floor, he frowned, but she just lifted her chin in defiance. Bulma was well aware of her limitations, and imitating Spiderman was one of them.
Vegeta gracefully crossed the distance between them, looming over her. He braced one arm on the wall above her head so he could look down on her. She fidgeted nervously, pulling the hem of her shirt down between her legs to shield herself.
“I can't do it, Vegeta. I'm not strong enough.”
“I can carry you on my back.”
Bulma shot him a disbelieving glance, her eyes scanning down his naked chest. He had muscles on top of muscles, but it was the collar that caught her eye. If he still had use of his ki she would consider it. But at the moment he wasn't much stronger than a human man. Well maybe a little bit stronger, with a lot more stamina, but it still wasn't enough to carry them both across the huge expanse. She didn't want to fall to her death. It was counterproductive to living. She crossed her arms over her chest mutinously.
“I need you to disable the collar for me,” he reminded her softly.
“Just bring the tools back here.” She thought it was a reasonable request. She would wait patiently while he did whatever it was he needed to do.
“So you would have me cross it twice?” he asked disbelievingly, his eyebrow cocked.
She looked up at him guiltily before glancing away. She hadn't thought of it that way. She picked at her shirt. She didn't want to see Vegeta get hurt. She didn't think she could stand to watch him fall to his death, but crossing would be so much easier for him if he didn't have to carry her.
“It would be dangerous for you to carry me.”
“It would be dangerous for you to stay. What if someone happens by while I'm gone?”
Bulma swallowed, glancing down the hall from the corner of her eye. Even though the ship was graveyard empty, not everyone could be gone. There had to be survivors somewhere.
“It's not fair to you, Vegeta. I'll drag you down.”
Vegeta was stunned into silence for a moment. Never once had anyone ever put his welfare before their own before. His men served him, they protected him as was their duty, but they hadn't fostered any sort of caring for him. She was genuinely afraid she would drag him down. She was afraid of him coming to harm. Something warm and bright expanded in his chest. He never realized how cold he was until he met her. Vegeta hunkered down in front of her, so they were at eye level.
“You trust me?” He threw her words back at her. She held his gaze, looking deep into the darkness of his eyes.
She did trust him. She trusted his strength and determination. She trusted his honesty and integrity. If Vegeta said he could get them both across then she believed him. She had too. Besides if they fell, she would have plenty of time to damn him to hell before they splattered at the bottom. She nodded slowly, placing her small hand in his outstretched palm. His hand closed around hers and she instantly felt secure. She graced him with a tiny smile as he pulled her to her feet, leading her to the doorway.
Bulma stared into the drop-off apprehensively. By her calculations, it was a long, long way down. Vegeta's strong arm swept her behind him, helping her up onto his broad back. She tightly wound her arms around his neck, trying hard to remember not to strangle him, and pressed her face into the valley between his shoulder blades. The less she saw, the less likely she would panic and kill them both. Vegeta's tail wrapped around her waist, securely binding her to him. She inhaled, taking his masculine scent deep into her lungs. She was comforted by him. She felt safe just by touching her skin to his. She clasp her thighs around his hips, and closed her eyes, thinking about making love, and not being precariously suspended above certain death.
Without warning, Vegeta swung out with one arm, whipping them around so he was clinging to the wall outside the door. She squealed, squeezing her eyes to keep them firmly shut. Her entire body tightened around his, her full breasts flattened on his back.
“Just relax,” he told her, quiet authority ringing in his voice. Automatically, she loosened her grip around his throat, giving him air to breathe.
Steadily he moved across the broken wall, carefully choosing his handholds before inching forward. She could feel his muscles bulge and ripple beneath her, and she feared her weight would be too much. Carrying himself alone would be exhausting, but adding her dead weight dragging on his back had to be impossible.
“This is a bad idea, Vegeta. Put me back. I'm going to get us both killed.”
“Quiet,” he snapped, reaching for another handhold. She heard something slide away, and Vegeta sagged, holding onto the wall with one hand. She glanced down, terrified as a slender piece of metal fell for a horrendously long time before obliterating into sparks as it hit the force field.
Vegeta heaved himself up, latching onto a steadfast piece of the wall, grunting with the effort. He paused there, resting his weight on the balls of his feet.
“Do not distract me again, woman,” Vegeta commanded, full of simmering anger. She nodded against his neck, holding back her tears.
Vegeta could feel her cheek pressed against him, her lashes butterfly soft on his skin. She was so light it was like feathers on his back, but the press of her body against his reminded him of the burden he carried. One mistake and they would both die. He tightened his tail around her slender waist, holding her tightly against him. He glanced across the expanse, plotting his course. He had reached the most critical part of his crossing. A waterfall cascaded from the burst pipes, the air pressure forcing the water out in a steady stream. There was no way he could cross through it without being thrust off the wall, but he could go up. The only problem was the next handhold was at least three feet above his reach. He would have to leap to grab it. He was confident he could do so, even with the extra weight on his back, but the next hurdle concerned him. By going above the burst pipe, it meant he had to cross a deep crack in the structure. The width of it was daunting. It would take an enormous amount of strength to propel himself and Bulma across the gap, and he would need to unwind his tail from her for the extra balance. When he hit the far wall, he would need to scramble for handholds, and the impact could conceivably knock them both off.
He leaned back, clinging onto the side with just his fingertips and toes. He bounced a few times, testing the strength in his calves. He centered his entire being on the protruding lip of metal he needed to reach. He bent down, gripping tight with his fingers and flexed his legs hard. Using the strength in his arms and legs he leapt up the sheer face. His hands found purchase, but his feet dangled. Bulma's legs slipped around his waist, and her weight dragged on his throat. He ignored the pain, the need to breath, and concentrated on finding a crevice to shove his toes.
Knowing he needed help, Bulma quickly scrambled up his back, to take her weight off his neck. She found a hole for her foot, and quickly stepped into it, giving Vegeta a much needed rest. He soon found his footing, and leaned into the wall, resting his sweating forehead against the cool metal.
While he caught his breath, Bulma looked around, stoically refusing to glance down. Immediately, she understood Vegeta's plan and she gulped as terror took a stranglehold on her throat.
“You know what, Vegeta? Maybe you should go first. Then I can leap across and you can catch me.”
She pressed her face against the back of his neck as she spoke, and he could feel the soft caress of her lips against his skin. He shook his head in response. They both knew she would never make. Agile as she was, she didn't have the physical strength to hurl her body across the width of the ravine. Once he was on the other side, she would either refuse to move, and he would be unable to persuade her or she would try and fall to her death. Either result was not beneficial to him. He needed her to undo the collar checking his strength. He was unwilling to think about the coldness waiting to infect him again once she was gone.
“Vegeta,” she cajoled softly, and he could hear the fear in her voice. Fear for his safety. For his well-being. It was a disturbingly foreign idea to him. He grimaced, feeling a poignant ache in his chest. He shook it off, attributing it to strain.
“No,” he replied authoritatively, and refocused his gaze on where he needed to land. He wasn't going to give her the chance to get away and leave him restrained by his collar.
He pulled his weight to the side, forcing her to wrap her legs around him again. He leaned away from the crack so he could thrust himself forward with every bit of momentum he could muster. He rocketed across the distance, but in midair he damned himself as he unfurled his tail. He had forgotten to warn Bulma to hold on as tight as she could. He hit the far wall with such tremendous impact he bounced back. He grunted as the air whooshed out of his lungs, and he scrambled to find any handhold possible.
As they rebounded, Bulma lost her precarious grip and fell backwards, sliding off Vegeta. She screamed, the piercing sound bouncing off the broken metal, sounding like hundreds of condemned souls. Vegeta was sliding down the wall, unable to find purchase anywhere on the slick metal wall. Knowing he may die, he did the only thing he could do to help Bulma. He whipped out his tail, wrapping it tightly around her fragile wrist.
Suddenly his foot slid into a notch on the wall, and his fingers curled around a sharp piece of metal peeling away from the wall. He held on tight, ignoring the bit of metal teeth digging into his ungloved fingers, cutting him bone deep. Bulma came up short, yanking painfully on his tail as she dangled below him. Vegeta grunted in agony, clenching his jaw until the tendons of his neck stood out starkly against his flushed skin.
He still didn't have a grip for his other hand, and the metal dug deeper into his fingers with every moment. Far to the side, he could see a wide ledge opening into a room. He could leap into it easily if he wasn't weighed down by the woman. He looked down, right into Bulma's huge blue eyes.
“Vegeta,” she whispered through lips whitened by stark terror. He could see it welling up in her eyes, and in the porcelain pallor of her skin. Tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes, sliding back into her mess of blue hair that waved away from her face. Below her he could see the hungry glow of the force field, and he knew she would feel no pain as it disintegrated her into nothing. Biting the insides of his cheeks, he kept his gaze locked with hers as he slowly with great pain lifted her up with his tail. He reached down with his free hand, his fingers stretching out for hers. She reached for him, pulling her weight up on his tail. Her small hand fitted in his large one, so tiny he was afraid it might slip away. He locked his fingers around her wrist, hauling her up while ignoring the slicing pain in his fingers still clinging to the broken metal.
Unexpectedly, he swung her away from his body, out into the empty void. She screamed, her blue eyes wide in terror and betrayal. At the pinnacle of her arc he swung her back through the air like a pendulum on a clock. She whirled past him, flying upwards. When she was at shoulder height, Vegeta's strong fingers slipped away from her wrist, and she flew backwards. Too terrified to scream, she merely stared into Vegeta's black eyes as she hurdled away from him. She crashed into a wall, crumpling onto solid ground.
Vegeta followed her, landing on his feet with the rangy grace of a jungle cat. He towered over her, his well-built chest glistening with sweat. All she could do was stare. He looked like a god. He was built of slick bronze muscles and angry fire in his black eyes. He frowned, his beautiful cruel lips telling tales of the devastation he could wreck with a simple harsh word. She trembled, in awe of his sheer physical strength. She recognized that she might be deifying him, but good god if there was ever a man to lose her mind over, it was him. She pulled her eyes away before she lost all her self-respect and started groveling at his feet to fuck her right then and there. She really needed to avoid life or death situations. They turned her into an adrenaline slut.
“You thought I was going to drop you,” Vegeta accused softly, his black eyes missing nothing. Her eyes widened in shock, and she struggled to her knees.
“No, I didn't. I swear.” His accusation struck something deep inside of her, wounding her. She didn't want him to believe she trusted him so little. He snorted, turning away, but her fragile fingers latched onto his thick wrist, restraining him. “I have complete faith in you, Vegeta,” she assured him softly.
His black eyes burned into her, daring her to retract her statement. Shyly she dropped her gaze to carefully examine his wound. He didn't respond, and frankly he didn't know what to say. She surprised him at every turn. She kept him off balance, and as much as it was unsettling, he found it wasn't completely unlikable. She frowned and small lines formed between her brows. He resisted the urge to smooth them out with his thumb, instead standing motionless as she tore her sleeve off to bandage him.
His eyes narrowed as she worked, roaming over her unprotected skin still streaked with her own blood. She was in greater need of nursing than he. As soon as they reached engineering and removed the collar he would be sure to take her to the medical bay.
That in mind, he scanned the halved room, looking for an exit. As he thought there was a door, hopefully leading out into an intact hallway. She knotted the fabric around his hand, and he brushed her away when she finished. He could feel her scowl at his back, but he ignored it. She deserved a little rudeness after believing he would drop her into the abyss. Hadn't he already told her, he needed her to remove the collar?
Shelving had fallen across the portal, but it was easy enough for him to clear it away and wrench open the door. The hallway was passable, with only a few sections of wall and floor missing. It would be easy enough to skirt around the holes and make way to their destination.