Yamcha sat at his house
staring at the clock. Bulma hadn’t called him like she’d promised.
Normally he wouldn’t care, he’d just call his latest crush and go out with
her, but he was getting sick of lying to Bulma about his other flings and
he finally decided that today he would tell her the truth about all his
little infidelities. Besides, he’d just met the girl of his dreams only
the night before and he had to break it off with Bulma before he decided
to ask her out. ‘She’s probably so busy working she lost all track of time.’
He thought and decided to head to capsule corp. and surprise her.
He arrived about 20 minutes
later and headed to her workshop only to find it empty. He went to
the kitchen and saw Dr. Briefs sitting at the table reading the newspaper.
“Hey Dr. B!” he said,
waving. “Where’s Bulma?” Dr. Briefs looked up from the paper.
“Oh Yamcha! How are you
today? Uh.. I think Bulma’s in her room.”
“Thanks!” he called back
as her ran up the stairs that led to Bulma’s room. He gave a light
tap on the door and was greeted with silence. ‘I really should
let her sleep, but this can’t wait.’ He thought and gently pushed open
the door.
The door swung open on
silent hinges and what he saw shocked him to his core. Bulma was
asleep in bed. But she was not alone. Sleeping next to her,
his arms wrapped possessively around her, was none other than the Prince
of Saiyans.
“Holy shit!” he cried.
At the sound of his voice Vegeta awoke and sat up, blinking rapidly.
“What the fuck do you
want?” Vegeta hissed as he saw and recognized Yamcha.
“You fucking bastard!
Bulma’s mine! How dare you?” At that Vegeta’s eyes widened a moment as
though he was shocked at the words that had just left Yamcha’s mouth.
His eyes then narrowed to slits and he began to laugh quietly. And
before Yamcha could blink Vegeta stood a mere six inches away. Yamcha
gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in surprise, but he couldn’t
help but flinch. He had almost forgotten whom he was dealing with.
Vegeta the Prince of Saiyans,
a ruthless killer, what the hell was Bulma thinking? Speaking of
Bulma was she even awake? He darted a glance over Vegeta’s shoulder
and was rewarded with a painful slap from the Saiyan before him.
“The woman is mine now.
She does not want you so I suggest you LEAVE NOW before I tear you heart
out right now.” Vegeta hissed. Yamcha could not hide a look of disgust
and turned on his heel. But before he could even take a step he opened
his mouth and whirled in fury.
“Bulma! You are nothing
but a whore! I regret the day I met you! I would have never thought
you would do something like this! But I should have known better than to
trust a sleazy bitch like you!”” he stared past Vegeta who stood
shaking in fury and caught a glimpse of Bulma and almost regretted his
harsh words.
Almost, but not really.
Her face was white as
the sheets that covered her naked body, he could see her trembling, and
her lips moved soundlessly. He felt a kind of triumph for a brief
second. He knew he had no right to say such things to her as he had
done the same and worse to her without her knowing. He was the worst
kind of hypocrite. But when he’d seen her in Vegeta’s arms with that
soft serene smile on her face as she snuggled against his chest, he’d felt
as if a thousand knives had pierced his heart. He wanted her to hurt
just like he had in that instant.
But his victory was short
lived as her felt a powerful hand clutch at his throat and choke off his
air supply. He felt himself be lifted in the air and slam repeatedly
into the wall behind him. His head snapped back and forth and the
back of his skull bounced against the plaster creating cracks and dents
in the formerly smooth surface.
He couldn’t breathe and
his head was throbbing. His vision was blurred and from very far
away he could hear Bulma screaming.
‘Oh Kami, I’ve done
it now.’ Yamcha thought. ‘The Monkey Prince is going to kill
me.’ He suddenly felt the cold wind against his skin and the
impact of hitting the ground. The air whooshed from his lungs and
he lay there for a moment, feebly gasping for air.
“Vegeta please stop!”
Bulma shrieked wrapping her arms around Vegeta’s legs in a vain attempt
to keep him from killing Yamcha.
“You heard what he said?!”
Vegeta fairly shrieked. “I can’t let him get away with that shit!”
“He’s just jealous! I
don’t care about him! I don’t care what he says!” she cried, desperately
tugging on a pair of cotton shorts Vegeta was attempting to pull on.
“Stop!” he yelled and
glared menacingly at her until at last she released the hem of his shorts.
He quickly pulled them up and turned towards the widow he’d just thrown
Yamcha through. Bulma grabbed onto the hammer loop on one leg of
the baggy shorts and one of the large, empty pockets on the other leg.
Vegeta stopped with an impatient sigh as he again felt her insistent tugging.
He turned to face his
mate and was astonished to see her eyes filled with tears.
“What the hell is wrong
with you?” he cried, amazed. “Did you hear what he said or is your hearing
that pathetic?”
“I heard exactly what
he said, Vegeta.” Bulma said quietly. “I don’t care. I don’t
care what he says. All I care about is you. No one can hurt
me as long as I have you.” She said, staring into his eyes boldly and without
fear.
Vegeta growled low in
his throat. Damn the woman! What could he say after that?
She had just told Vegeta something he’d never before heard in his life
and he felt his anger disappear as if it had never been. He gazed
at her with eyes full of confusion, yearning, and hope. Confusion
that she felt this way, before he’d always been sure that she’d hated him
with a flaming passion. He also yearned for her touch again and again.
Once he had sampled her, he could never get enough, he knew he would never
leave her, but would she feel the same? He’d always thought she’d
cared for the weak ningen Yamcha. Would she change her mind about
him just as quickly if she found someone else? The thought disturbed
him far more than he thought possible. And yet, he felt the faintest
of hope that after all his years of loneliness he’d finally found someone
who understood him and wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be
with her.
Bulma sat there in silence
watching emotions flash across Vegeta’s face. It was amazing to her who
had grown so accustomed to seeing only anger, hate, and coldness in his
eyes. He truly looked torn, as if he couldn’t quite believe what
she had said, as if waiting for her to announce that all she had just said
was nothing more than a lie to get him in bed. But would he really
think her capable of that? Was he so filled with mistrust?
She reached up and gently took his hand and gave another tug. Vegeta
slowly dropped to his knees and stared into her eyes with a look that made
her heart break. In it she could almost see his fears as if they
were right in front of her, and strangely enough, many of them echoed her
own. She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand, smiling when
he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She then scooted forward
and wrapped her arms around the small Saiyan and was surprised to feel
him trembling. She lay back and pulled him down with her so they
lay side by side on the soft carpet and she gently stroked his cheek.
His head rested on her shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
“I know you don’t believe
me, Vegeta, but it’s true. I have cared for you for a long time,
even when you made it too hard for me to show it. I still worried.
Especially after you blew up the gravity room. I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t eat. All I could do was think of you and watch you sleep
and pray you would be okay.” She felt his grip on her tighten and
she smiled, forgetting Yamcha and only thinking of how wonderful it felt
to be in his arms. “You don’t have to say anything, I just want you
to know. I wouldn’t lie to you. I wouldn’t be telling you this
if I didn’t mean it.” Vegeta propped himself up on his elbows and
stared deep into Bulma’s cobalt eyes and smiled, a beautiful, genuine smile
that actually lit his eyes up. Bulma was both ecstatic and honored
to see what she knew she probably would never see again and her grip on
him tightened almost painfully.
“I believe you.” He said
softly, complete trust in his eyes, and Bulma knew then that she would
die before she ever broke his faith in her. He leaned closer and
she closed her eyes as their lips touched and she opened her mouth and
their tongues met to battle briefly.
They stayed that way,
on the floor in each other’s arms, all night long. Sleep eventually
claimed them and when the sun rose and the woke in each others arms they
both knew that there would never be anyone else for them for the rest of
their lives and even beyond.
Yamcha woke at dawn with
a splitting headache and a sore throat. Recalling the events of the
night before he got up and took to the air before anyone at capsule corp.
awoke. Namely a certain Saiyan.
He stumbled to his apartment
and collapsed on the couch with a defeated sigh. Things had not worked
out at all how he’d planned. Now he doubted he would ever speak to
Bulma again, and that had definitely NOT been part of his plan. Despite
all that had happened he still thought of her as one of his closest friends.
But the end result had still worked out to his satisfaction. After
all he was now a single man, free to do as he pleased, but he wasn’t about
to leave things as the were between him and Bulma, he just couldn’t.
he searched his apartment until he found an old notebook and a pen and
began to write.
My Dearest Bulma,
First of all I have
to apologize for the cruel, heartless things I said to you the other day.
I had no right to say what I did and I am deeply ashamed of myself. If
anything, you should have said those cruel words to me and I would have
deserved every single one.
When I saw you two
together, I just couldn’t take it. I felt as if my heart had been
ripped in two. I should have seen this all coming a long time ago,
but I never did. I pushed you away, I flirted with other girls, it
was only right for you to find someone else.
I also realize
it is wrong for me to want you to stay with me just so I would be happy.
The important thing is you happiness, all that I ask is that we can still
be friends? I cannot live without you in my life, even if we are
only friends. But if you decide that I am unworthy of even your friendship,
I will try to understand and move on.
Please Bulma, do not
judge me too harsh, I beg for your forgiveness and understanding and hope
this is not the end. I know we will never be together as lovers again,
but as long as I can still talk to you and we can hang out once in awhile,
it won’t be so bad.
I don’t know what else
to say. I leave the fate of our relationship in your hands.
Love,
Yamcha
Bulma got the letter three
days later and cried as she read it. She could never stay mad at
Yamcha no matter what. She picked up the phone and dialed his number.
“Hello?” Yamcha answered,
sounding tired.
“Hi Yamcha.” Bulma said,
softly. There was a moment of silence from the other end.
“Bulma?” came a tentative
reply.
“Yes, how are you?”
“You got my note?” he
prodded.
“Yes, Yamcha.”
“You don’t hate me?” Bulma
sighed, growing irritated.
“No Yamcha, why would
I call you if I did?”
“To tell me off.” He replied
quickly. Bulma smiled.
“No Yamcha. I want
to be friends with you. I don’t want you out of my life forever,
but you have to understand, I will never go out with you ever again.”
She heard a sigh from the other end.
“Do you love him?” Yamcha
asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Does he love you?” Bulma
sighed. She knew he was only looking out for her, but why did he
have to be so damn nosy? Well, he needed to know that he had a snowball’s
chance in hell with her.
“Yes. Without a
doubt.” She said proudly. He may not have said so, but she could
tell. The way he held her, the way he gazed into her eyes with that
look of intense passion. She could see a deep fierce love burning
in those ebony depths. She knew without question that they would
be together forever, no matter what happened.
“Good.” Yamcha said, Bulma
was pleased to note that he actually did sound happy for her. “I’m
glad. I want you to be happy Bulma.”
“Thank you Yamcha.
I want the same for you.” She heard the back door open and Vegeta came
waltzing in. “I have to go now, but call me back tomorrow or something.”
“’K. Bye.” Yamcha
said, and hung up. Bulma dropped the receiver in its hook as a pair
of muscular arms wrapped around he waist.
“That weakling bothering
you?” Vegeta breathed in her ear. Bulma leaned back into his embrace
with a soft, contented sigh.
“No. Didn’t you
hear?” she asked knowing full well he’d probably heard the whole conversation.
“A little.” He lied.
“Well, it doesn’t matter
anyway, I told him he has no chance of getting with me again.”
“Yes, I thought I heard
something like that.” He said, she felt the curve of his smiling lips against
her neck.
“Well. He’s in the past
now, so can we talk about something else?” Bulma queried. She felt
his sharp canine teeth nip at her throat.
“We can talk later.
I have something better in mind.” Bulma giggled and turned around
resting her chin on Vegeta’s broad chest and gazing into his intense ebony
eyes. She smirked, her blue eyes flashing.
“Gee, let me guess.” She
said as her hands reached down the back of his pants and gently rubbed
the spot where his tail had been.
“Smart girl.” He replied,
stifling a groan.
No words were exchanged
after that for a while. There was no need. A bond was forming
between Bulma and Vegeta that was quickly becoming undeniable. They
both felt it, felt each other’s emotions, pain and pleasure. They
were two souls becoming one, and for the first time in both their lives’
they were each truly content. And the love they felt for each other
was like a song straight from heavens mouth, so beautiful and unrivaled
by anything ever created or to come.
The End