A Light in the Darkness - part 18: Confessions and Realizations
by Mia Skywalker, Wataruo

PAIRING: Bulma/Vegeta
RATING: X again
WARNINGS: Ah... more lemon. After they fight some more.
DISCLAIMER: Neither of us owns any of the DBZ characters or anything about DBZ, but we both wish we owned the Saiyans. All of them. At least all of the ones with hair. These characters are owned by Toei, Viz, Akira Toriyama, and FUNimation, even though the last one is a crying shame. We do own what we've written here, and our specific storyline, just not Dragonball itself. We make no money off of any of these guys, nor off this fic. We just have fun writing it.
SUMMARY: Confessions, realizations, explorations... and lemon.
Notes: Thanks to Ravyn for beta'ing!

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Last time on Dragonball Z: A Light in the Darkness....

Arguments during dinner.

Vegeta slowly sat back down. Could she possibly be right? He wondered momentarily why it would bother him. After all, on Vegeta-sei no one 'cared' for anyone else. It was simply the strongest survived, the weak died. He couldn't care less that no one on this miserable hellhole liked him. Feelings were for the weak-minded. It didn't matter to him one way or another what anyone thought about him. He was going to destroy the planet after he killed Kakarotto anyway, so these people were just here to amuse him in the meantime.

But that didn't stop him from standing back up and pausing at the foot of the stairs, wondering if he should go an see if Bulma was alright. His hearing allowed him to hear her weeping and something in his stomach twisted, hard. ::Why should I care what she thinks of me?:: he thought, annoyed. He folded his arms across his chest and stared up the stairs wondering what he doing standing around like an idiot when he had things he should be doing. But he didn't move from his position until Bulma's weeping eased, then he headed up the stairs to Bulma's room.

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Bulma's tears stopped abruptly when she heard the door open. She sensed that it was Vegeta entering her room, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had managed to hurt her, or at least she didn't want to give him proof that he had done so. She remained where she was, curled up on her bed with her back to the door, her arms around a pillow, hugging it tightly to her chest, hoping he would take the hint and just leave. Somehow she knew he wouldn't, though, and when she heard him move closer she closed her eyes, curling up more tightly into herself. 

"Go away, Vegeta." Her voice was muffled against the pillow, as her tears continued to silently soak it. "Or if you're going to kill me, just go ahead and do it now, and get it over with."

Even though her voice was muffled, he could still hear the pain in it. He had hurt her, he knew that instinctively. Everything in his being wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, apologize for hurting her feelings, and this yearning bothered the Saiyan Prince. Where these emotions were coming from, he had no idea. He wanted them to stop, but to his annoyance he found that he couldn't control them. This lack of discipline around Bulma was extremely disturbing.

His annoyance kept him from embracing Bulma as he moved toward the bed, and was what made him snap back his reply. "Don't be asinine. If I had wanted you dead, I would've killed you long ago." He folded his arms over his chest and stared down at her, waiting for some kind of response.

Bulma remained silent for several minutes. She wondered why he hadn't killed her, and then she remembered. "You needed me to make you your gravity room. Of course you weren't going to kill me." She sighed, still feeling her heart clenching. It was obvious to her that he hated her, that he didn't respect her in the slightest. "But if you butcher my friends then you'll have to fight me, and you'll have no choice but to kill me then, because I will find a way to kill you if you don't. So you might as well kill me now." 

She closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't live with the pain of either him murdering all of her friends... or of them killing him, in order to stop him from doing so. And she knew they'd have no choice, because he would keep coming at them until they killed him. She had no idea why the idea of him dying hurt her so much, but it did. And she knew that she would have no choice but to avenge her friends' deaths, no matter how much she might not want to hurt him. Even if she died trying.

"When did you develop a death wish?" he asked harshly. "Snap out of it woman. I have no intention of ever harming you." He sat down on the end of the bed, holding himself stiffly, and thought of various ways of taking her with him after he killed his adversary. She wouldn't be happy about being dragged off- world, but the warrior knew of several planets that would appeal to her. Not to mention their technology. He was startled to discover that one of his hands had come to rest on her back and was stroking it lightly. He hadn't even been aware that he had reached for her. But he was satisfied with the fact that she seemed to be quieting.

Bulma wanted to hit him for his obtuseness. She lifted her head from her pillow, ignoring the tearstains on her cheeks as she glared at him angrily. "You say that, but you want to kill Goku. You don't understand, do you? If you kill Goku then I have to kill you! Do you think you're the only one who understands honor? Do you think because I'm a 'weak human female' that I don't understand it, that I don't believe in honor and duty and avenging my friends? Do you think that all I want to do is run away all the time? Is that how you see me, as a weakling coward? Do you even have the slightest concept of love and friendship? Do you even understand it at all?!?"

Vegeta snorted. "It is you that does not understand, woman." He stood up and began to pace. "There are some things that need to be done. Do you think that I really want to kill that idiot?" He stopped, clenched his fists at his sides and glared back at her. "I could care less what he does, but he interfered with Frieza." He turned away and strode to the window to look out. "And because of that.... I have to kill him."

Bulma's eyes narrowed in thought, and then she shook her head angrily. "Why? What hold did Frieza have over you? I thought that you hated him, that you wanted to kill him. What does it matter that Goku did it instead? Dead is dead! You were dead, and Goku had to defend us. What else was he supposed to do? Let the rest of us die?"

"Frieza killed my father, woman," he snapped, turning his head slightly to look at her. "To become King I would have had to kill my father, and that bastard beat me to it." He turned all the way around to glare at her. He had no idea why he wanted to tell her this, but the desire - no the need for her to understand - was overwhelming him. 

"When another kills the king, then it is transferred to that person. In this case Kakarotto." Vegeta turned away again, something like pain washed over his features, but only for a moment. "If I had remained dead this would not have been an issue." He laughed bitterly. "So if I had not been wished back, you wouldn't have had to worry about him would you?" He folded his arms over his chest and sighed. It was an odd sound coming from a man that killed first then asked questions later. 

"It's no matter," he said after an unsettling silence. "Why should I care, woman, if my planet is gone? But then you wouldn't know about that, would you?" he asked almost to himself. "To be one of the last of your race. Knowing that when you die, no one will be there after you. To not have a homeworld. You have no idea what that kind of loneliness is like." He fell silent when he realized that he had admitted too much to her. ::What does it matter?:: He thought. ::It isn't like she understands.:: But it still hurt him, how it hurt him. And he could do nothing about it.

Bulma pondered this a moment, her tears abating as she puzzled it out. Having something to think about always helped her. "You would have had to kill your father to become king? What sort of monarchy is that?" She shuddered involuntarily. "You're all barbarians!" 

Then she looked up at his back and frowned. For some reason she could sense the pain radiating from him, and it puzzled her. She sifted through his words, and then realized what he'd said. He was lonely, but she'd gathered that much from him before. She'd sensed his loneliness long ago, after he'd lived there for a while. She'd sensed it, but she hadn't entirely known its cause. Now she did. But then....

"No, I don't know what it's like to lose my homeworld," she said softly, pointedly. "But I might have known, had you been successful the first time you came here. You're bitter about the destruction of your homeworld, but how many others have you helped destroy? How many people, how many races, have you destroyed without a second thought? You would have done that to us, and never even thought anything of it. You say you'd never hurt me, but you would have killed me when you first arrived. How can I trust you, when you have that sort of power, and wouldn't hesitate to use it that way?" 

She swallowed suddenly, and then whispered around the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, "When for all I know, you're planning on destroying this planet right after you kill Goku? Maybe I'm not a fighter, but I am one of this planet's defenders. And I will kill you if that's what you plan. You won't give me any choice."

Vegeta said nothing as he stared out the window. He stood there, back straight, arms folded across his chest, brow furrowed in thought. This whole conversation bothered him. Bulma always made him think, made him consider things he normally wouldn't have. And to make matters worse, he believed her. She would kill him, if she had to. It would not matter to her in the least that they were now lovers; she would kill him if he harmed Goku.

It also made him consider the other warrior in a manner he hadn't thought of before. ::Maybe she loves him:: he mused as he glared out at the night sky. It was one possible explanation on why she hadn't permitted Yamcha to touch her. The thought made him decidedly ill, and the desire to pound the other man into oblivion was building. But he was nowhere near Super Saiyan, far from it. And if he wanted to become Super Saiyan then he should be training, not hanging around Bulma's bedroom discussing things that he really didn't want to talk about in the first place.

Vegeta turned from the window and crossed the room to her bedroom door. He paused, but only for a moment, preparing to leave. "You will do what you have to, just as I will," he said quietly. "At least I know where I stand."

Bulma's brow furrowed in confusion. Where he stood? What was he talking about? She noticed him leaving and tears welled up in her eyes automatically. He'd said that she wasn't going to sleep alone, but apparently he'd lied about that. Like everyone else, he was abandoning her. It never even occurred to her that she'd practically been throwing him out just minutes before. 

She laughed softly, a slightly hysterical edge to her voice. "I'm glad you do, because I don't." This time she couldn't hold back her tears, and they started flowing silently down her face again. "I wish I did," she whispered, her laughter vanishing abruptly.

There was something in her voice that made Vegeta pause at the door. He frowned at her when he saw her crying again. ::Now what?:: he wondered as he slowly approached her. She had wanted him to leave earlier, hadn't she? Bulma had the rare ability to confuse the hell out of him. 

He stood there in front of her, looking down into her tearstained face and sighed again. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked quietly. "I will not force you, woman."

Bulma sniffled, staring at him with a tear-streaked face. "Force me? You're afraid of forcing me?" She sniffled again, hiccupping slightly. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do, Vegeta. If you don't want to stay I can't make you." She shivered slightly, wondering what she was doing, what she wanted of him. She didn't even know what she wanted of herself. She looked up at him, the confusion writ plainly on her face. "I don't know...."

He slipped onto the bed next to her and cupped her face in his hands. "I know what I want," he said quietly, staring into her eyes. "I want to stay here." He brushed his mouth across her forehead, then lifted his head again to speak. "And make you mine." He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her softly, giving her a chance to pull away from him if she chose to.

Bulma shivered, giving in to the sensations of his mouth on hers, his hands on her face. She pressed into him automatically, without thought of what she was doing. Tears continued to roll unbidden down her face, as she remained confused and uncertain in her own longings. She didn't know what she wanted of him, what he wanted of her. To make her his? She had no idea what he meant by that.

Her hands slid along the bed and moved up to him, slipping softly over his back. She touched him, wanting to learn him, wishing she understood him better. Something about him touched her core, not just physically but emotionally as well, and it was something that she didn't understand at all.

Vegeta whimpered against her mouth when he felt her small hand at his back. ::Yes:: he thought to her as he moved his mouth across the planes of her face. ::Touch me:: he mentally encouraged. ::Touch me.::

He wasn't sure why but he wanted her touch, craved the feel of her hands against his skin. He needed this, he realized. He needed her. He trailed kisses along her jaw, leaving no patch of skin untouched and he made his way to nuzzle at her throat. He was vaguely aware of her fingers entwining in his hair and he could feel himself growing aroused.

Bulma heard Vegeta demand that he touch her, without realizing that his voice was in her mind. Her breath stilled when he pushed her back against the bed, settling himself on top of her, still not releasing her mouth. She sensed that somehow he wasn't allowing his full weight to rest on her; he was using his levitation techniques to keep himself from crushing her. She remembered how heavy he was from the time he'd hurt himself in the gravity room. She'd tried to lift him and hadn't been able to, so she knew from experience that he was heavier than he looked.

She could feel the heat of his skin through his bodysuit, through his gloves. She wondered briefly if he ever removed his gloves, and then vaguely remembered that he hadn't been wearing them the times they'd made love before. Those were the only times she'd ever known him to remove them. He was wearing them now, and she slowly reached up a hand to touch his, then plucked at the glove to remove it. He stilled, without removing his mouth from hers, and allowed her to remove the glove from his hand. She drew it off slowly, lingeringly, and she felt him gasp against her mouth, shudder against her. He touched her face then, and she could feel his hand shaking ever so slightly. It surprised her. She had no idea why he would be shaking. Was he afraid? Was he as affected by her as she was by him?

He continued to kiss her deeply, exploring the contours of her mouth with his tongue, and she moaned with desire for him. Her legs parted for him automatically, allowing him to settle between them, and he reached down and wrapped her legs around his hips. She could feel the heat of his arousal against her womanhood, even through their clothing, and she clutched at his shoulders tightly. He reached between them and unbuttoned her jeans, then slid them slowly down her legs, allowing his hands to linger over her skin, caressing her as he drew her pants down. She trembled at the heat of his hands on her skin. Even the hand that was still gloved felt hot against her thigh.

She reached one hand to his hand that was still gloved, and lifted it gently. Once again he allowed her to carefully remove the glove, and then he grasped her hand tightly with his as she dropped the glove to the floor, entwining their fingers together. He lifted his mouth off of hers, finally, and kissed her fingers, drawing each one into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. She almost shot off the bed from the erotic feelings that shot through her as he sucked each one, and she bucked against him, shuddering violently. He continued his ministrations to her fingertips, gradually moving up to her palm, making love to it with his lips and tongue until she was shivering with need. He smiled into her hand, knowing that she had no defenses against his assault on her senses, that she had no experience with anything even similar to this.

He gently placed her hand on his side, then took her mouth in another deep kiss as his hands roamed between them and unbuttoned her blouse. When he was finished with the buttons, he pushed her blouse back, then lowered his mouth to the valley between her breasts and nibbled his way down. By this time she was shuddering uncontrollably beneath him, writhing in desire and arousal. He shuddered himself when she caressed his sides and stomach, when she ran her fingers up his sides. He paused then to get himself under control. The fact that he'd been about to lose control bothered him; he'd never lost control with a woman before, until Bulma. It disturbed him that she managed to make him lose control this way. This was something that had never happened before.

He lifted her slightly, unresistingly, and slipped her blouse off, kissing her shoulders as he slid the blouse down them. While he did so he reached behind her and unclasped her bra, sliding it off as he lay her back down again. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, then, and began licking and nibbling at her nipples, making her tremble and quiver under him. She was so soft, so warm, so passionate, so obviously on fire with desire for him that it was driving him over the edge. He held himself rather firmly in check, refusing to allow himself to lose control. Her nipples hardened under his tongue, and he could tell that she was about to go over the edge herself. He lifted himself off her, and she reached for him with a whimper, thinking he was going to leave her unfulfilled. He grinned wickedly, sliding her panties off her, and gazed at her gloriously naked body for a moment before quickly divesting himself of boots and bodysuit, and covering her once again.

She moaned as his heat once again pressed against hers, and she opened her legs to his, feeling his arousal nudging at her entrance. Vegeta groaned then, feeling her wet warmth, wanting to plunge deeply into her and lose himself in her softness and warmth. He held back, though, for reasons he didn't even fully understand. He was determined that he would not lose control; this woman meant no more to him than any other woman he'd been with in the past. He knew deep inside himself that it wasn't really true; somehow she'd managed to breach his defenses, and he hated himself, and her, for that weakness. He refused to admit it, even to himself, so he doggedly held himself back, refusing to allow his passion to override his sense just yet.

He slid the tip of himself into her, and she whimpered. He felt her nipples harden even more, and her wetness increased, as she became even more aroused. He drew back, and she whimpered again, begging without words for him to ease her need, to fulfill her desires. He pushed the tip back into her again, just a little, not fully entering her. It was enough to once again completely arouse him, and when she squirmed under him, he could hold it in no longer, and thrust into her. He lifted her legs so that her ankles were on his shoulders, and thrust into her more deeply than before. She cried out, calling out his name at the height of her passion, as she climaxed on wave after wave of glorious orgasm. She felt the thunder of her release pounding in her ears, and she quaked under him, trembling with the fires of Chikyuu itself. Her cries and tightness and warmth finally drove him over the edge as well, and he growled his own pleasure as he climaxed inside of her.

To be continued.....

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And in the next exciting episode of DragonBall Z: A Light in the Darkness... Explorations and more lemon