The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5435

Chapter 47: Trouble around the corner

A few months passed by and a certain, flame-haired Saiyan felt more empowered than ever before. Not only was the simulator improving his skills as a fighter, but these improvements made his physical training far more productive than ever before. Day by day, he would put his newly acquired abilities to the test, markedly refining and perfecting them. To his utmost delight, the Prince found that there was no real limit to his advancements. Although he'd quickly picked up on every technique he encountered, his mastery over them continued to surge and he often combined them with other techniques, in order to form deadly combinations. Not only that, but his fighting style before the simulator training, entailed a lot of wasted movements on his part. That was no longer the case. He now moved with the fluidity of a golden eagle. Everything came naturally to him and it was only a matter of time, before he became an indestructible force that went unchallenged, across the entire cosmos! No one would stand a chance against his might, not the Androids and certainly not that fool, Kakarot!

It was suppertime. The elders had decided to hit the hay early on, so it was just Bulma and Vegeta. The Prince stared curiously at his hostess-lover.

"What?" She asked, after taking a sip of chilled tropical fruit juice from the pink straw, submerged in her tumbler glass.

"I was just wondering about that simulator contraption."

"Yeah, what about it?" The heiress was cutting a slice of chocolate cake for herself, when an alarm bell suddenly rung within the burrows of her mind. She gave him a look of pure dread, as her heart pounded in trepidation. "Oh God, don't tell me you destroyed it!" She mistook the ensuing frown on his face as an affirmative, causing her to suck in a huge breath, before she dropped her cutlery and glared venomously at him. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORKED ON THAT THING, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT?! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! HOW COULD YOU-"

"Dammit, shut up, the device is just fine!" He roared back, deeply irritated by her premature assessment and the blaring noise that came with it. She was always trying to make him deaf!

"It- it is?" Like a fusing lightbulb, her thunderous temper, quickly dimmed down.

"Of course it is, you idiot!"

"Don't call me an idiot!" That peculiar temper returned, only it wasn't nearly as deadly as before. "You're the idiot!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. This stubborn banshee always wanted the last word, when it came to exchanging childish insults. In some cases, it was better to just let her have her way, lest he engage himself in a pointless, eternal argument. 'Tch! And she has the nerve to call me a brat!'

"Could you listen to me for one goddamned minute?!" He seethed.

"Ugh, fine, fine, spit it out." She sighed.

"Do you have any video records of the battle between the Earthling warriors and Nappa, when I first came to this planet?"

Bulma involuntarily shuddered at the question, as she recalled what a different person her lover had been, during that dreadful stage of his life. He'd come so far, since then. The icy barrier around his soul had been thawed away, molecule by molecule and now he'd become their most powerful ally. Sure, he was still the biggest grouch in the Universe, but the heiress liked him that way- well, most of the time. She couldn't help but feel that out of all of her remarkable accomplishments in life, coaxing Vegeta out of the darkness and into the light, was her greatest. A benevolent smile lit her face at the thought.

"Well?" The Saiyan griped, wedging right through her trance.

"Um- uh- yeah, yeah, I've got the footage for that." She nodded, understanding what he was getting at. Although they'd asked Porunga to erase the memories of Vegeta, from the minds of most Earthlings, some of the higher-ups still had records of the horrors that had taken place, at that time. "Why? You want me to reprogram the simulator, to include those techniques, as well?"

"Could you do it?"

"Well, to be honest, I am kinda busy these days." She said, tremulously chewing on her lower lip, as he gave her a disapproving glare. That obviously wasn't the answer he sought. "Look, Vegeta, when I was building the simulator, I had to re-adjust my work schedule and cut out so much of my free time. Even then, it took practically everything I had. It wasn't easy and to tell you the truth, I still haven't caught up on a lot of the paperwork that I'd been neglecting. Initially, I wanted to incorporate all the techniques from that battle as well, but work just wouldn't allow it."

"But this is more important!" The Prince fumed, gritting his teeth. "I need to get stronger, if I'm to defeat those Androids or else-"

"I know, I know." Bulma interjected, with a sigh. "Listen, I'll do what I can, but I'm not making any promises, okay?" She smiled and took his hand in hers. "Just bear with me. I know how important this is, believe me."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes a moment, before standing up.

"You have two weeks." He declared and subsequently began to saunter back towards his beloved safe-haven, the gravitron.

"What?! Two weeks?!" She yelled, vexedly. "Didn't you hear anything I just said, you moron?! It took me four months just to-" He continued walking away, as though she hadn't said a word. "Hey, don't ignore me, you dick!"

The Prince turned to face her, with a smirk.

"Make that one week."

Bulma's face turned an indignant scarlet, as she was beset with mountainous ire. Picking up a glass bottle filled with water, she hurled it at him, only for it to pass through his after-image and shatter against the concrete wall.

"Ugh!" The heiress screeched, realizing that she'd have to clean up the mess herself. "I hate him!"

Later on in the night, Bulma faced the other side of the bed, as she tried to force herself to sleep. That jerk! How dare he treat her, as though she were his personal servant, bound to his whims and wishes?! He had no right! None, whatsoever!

A short while after she'd settled on the queen-sized mattress, the complacent Saiyan entered the room and plopped down on the bed, next to her. A slight tremor ran through the incensed blue-haired woman, upon feeling the Prince's lips press against the bare skin of her shoulder. She shrugged the joint into his face, letting him know that his gestures were unwelcome. Such a move, however, only spurred the Saiyan to continue his beguiling endeavours.

"Stop!" Bulma mumbled, in annoyance.

"Just pretend I'm not here." Vegeta replied in a low, smug voice, grazing his lips on her nape, making her anger wane just a little, as she felt a smidge of arousal prick at her, down below. Her desire spiralled quicker than she could ever hope to follow, as he continued teasing her with a string of soft, lingering kisses, which left tingling, dreamlike sensations at every turn. Damn him! He knew just how to jumble her brains! "It's better that way."

Pretend he wasn't there?! As if she could ever do that, with him slobbering all over her, while she was trying to get some shut-eye!

"I hate you!"

Vegeta chuckled in a low, sexy tone that instantly set her on edge. Bringing his lips right up against her ear canal, didn't help much either.

"I know." He breathed and Bulma's heart froze at that moment, a cloudy haze smothering her senses, as the temperature swelled between her thighs.

"A-Asshole." She stuttered.

"Wench." He took her earlobe between his teeth and repeatedly flicked his deft tongue against the sensitive spot, whereby she shut her eyes and released an irrepressible moan of pure bliss. The feel of that warm springboard and those sensual rapping sounds, were nothing short of torture, plain and simple. Little by little, she could feel her control receding away and knew that no matter how much she resisted, he'd end up swaying her- and she'd lustily indulge in every single second of it. Not a minute later, his soft, furry tail slipped into her panties, eliciting a loud gasp from the agape scientist. The shaggy appendage stroked her folds up and down, at an enticingly slow, titillating rhythm, breaking the last vestiges of willpower she had.

The whole of the next day, Bulma found it extremely difficult to walk on two legs, feeling more embarrassed than ever, as she hobbled her way through Capsule Corporation, as though she were an old lady. The worst part was hearing the titters of some of her employees. A few hard glares shut them right up, however.

She'd engaged in at least three rounds of fun with that audacious asshole of a Saiyan and that wasn't even counting the two, erotic bouts of tail sex, they'd had. If he thought she'd ever complete his simulator upgrades after his insolent, ungentlemanly behavior, then he had another thing coming! No! She'd hear him apologize to her and only then, would she be deigned to fulfil his unearned requests- on her terms, of course!


"You know Piccolo, at the rate we're going, I won't be able beat you, unless I go Super Saiyan." Goku stated in marvel, between a mouthful of a giant sardine that he and Gohan had caught a while earlier, after training. As usual, they delivered it back to the Son residence and Chi-Chi transformed the marine cadaver, into a meal from the heavens.

"Tch, one day even that won't be enough." The Namekian proclaimed. "Just watch. I will surpass both you and Vegeta, no matter what it takes."

"Haha Good luck with that." Earth's hero smirked.

"Smile now, while you can Goku, cause I'm gonna wipe that smug look off your face." Piccolo said promisingly.

"Speaking of Vegeta, I still can't believe that arrogant man's willing to fight against those doomsday robots or whatever." Chi-Chi sneered. "He must have some sort of ulterior motive. There's no other explanation."

"Come on Chi-Chi, you still don't trust Vegeta after all this time?!" The Saiyan whined.

"Give me one good reason why I should!" The Ox-Princess scowled at her loopy husband.

"Well, you trust Piccolo don't you?"

"Hmph, barely." She huffed. "Besides, at least Piccolo's making an effort, with Gohan and all. I can say that much about him."

"Uh, I'm right here, you know?" The giant, Earth-born alien objected.

"Good for you!" Chi-Chi spat, before frowning at Goku, as she continued her tirade. "Anyway, Vegeta just keeps to himself and refuses to train with the rest of you. That obviously raises suspicions, don't you think? He's not a team player. He's only in this for himself. I mean, has he ever come around to ask you for a spar or just say hi? No, he hasn't! Not easy to trust someone like that, so don't expect me to do it!" She finally added. "Oh, and don't be surprised, if he happens to turn on you, once the battle is over or worse yet, half-way through it!"

Goku let out a sigh of surrender. He couldn't really argue with Chi-Chi. While much of what she said was undoubtedly correct, his shrewish wife just didn't know Vegeta, the way he did. Yes, he may have been a bit of a lone-wolf and he couldn't help but resent the other Super Saiyan, just a little bit, for refusing to train alongside him, however, that didn't automatically make him a bad guy. Despite his rough exterior, deep down, he was as noble as any of them and had repeatedly proven as much.

"He does care about Bulma though." Gohan chimed in, after a moment of silence. "A lot."

"Hmph, so what?!" The raven-haired woman sulkily shot her nose up into the air. She'd already heard the story of what had transpired on Namek, but for her it just didn't suffice. "I like Bulma, believe me, but I think she's got a horrible taste in men. I mean, first Yamcha and then Vegeta! Who's it gonna be next? Lucifer?!"

"What's so bad about Yamcha?" Goku scratched his head.

"Nothing." She replied. "I think he's a great guy, but he's obviously a terrible boyfriend. If he weren't so incompetent, he wouldn't have lost Bulma, to that nasty Saiyan."

"Geez, you never learned how to mince words, did you?" Piccolo chuckled wryly, shaking his head at the sheer crassness of the hotheaded harpy.

"Quiet you." Chi-Chi looked at him pointedly, whereby he zipped his mouth closed.


A few days passed. Vegeta was preoccupied with his daily training routine, while Bulma decided to savor her day off. She was chilling at Kame House, laying back on a nice and comfy sun lounger in the backyard and sipping a cool flask of whisky, as the sizzling, morning sun loomed above, warming her sunscreen-covered, porcelain skin. She was wearing a hot pink bikini that she'd recently purchased and lying by her on a parallel lounger, was Yamcha's girlfriend, Mirai, dressed in a sea-green, halter tankini that really brought out the velvety fibres of her vivid, emerald hair. To her utmost chagrin, however, that disgusting, profligate Master Roshi would not stop leering at them, as though they were broiled pieces of meat, dangling off a hook and just waiting to be devoured. As if that weren't bad enough, he'd surreptitiously tried to get his wrinkled paws on the other woman, but Bulma quickly observed his unwanted presence in her peripheral and caught him with a hard, left hook to the jaw. Unlike Mirai, she'd been acquainted with the turtle hermit for many years now and knew just what to expect, from the wizened, old lecher.

"Asshole!" She scowled at the shameless, topsy-turvy debaucher.

"Bulma!" Mirai exclaimed in shock, stunned at her behavior, completely unaware of what had set her off.

"Oh hush, he deserved it!" The heiress growled.

"For what?"

"Seriously?! Didn't you notice?!" Bulma stared at her, incredulously. "He's been ogling us this entire time and just tried to grope you!"

"He- he did?" Mirai asked, wide-eyed. Yamcha had always told her how his mentor was a venerable old warrior that he looked up to and admired greatly, but said nothing about him being a pervert- although now that she thought about it, he may have mentioned that the old man was often a little 'eccentric'.

Bulma rolled her eyes. As beautiful as Mirai was, she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. But she certainly had a heart of gold. The heiress had rarely ever come across a soul, as gentle as hers. It truly warmed her heart to know that Yamcha had gotten over the entire post-Namek, trilemma. The ex-bandit felt jilted for the longest time, upon learning that she'd chosen Vegeta over him, but Mirai had been able to mend that gaping wound, over the course of their relationship. The heiress had never seen her ex in such high-spirits before and couldn't be happier for the pair.

When Tien and Chiaotzu finally arrived, the human warriors took off to some distant location, in order to commence with their morning workout. Bulma breathed a huge sigh of relief. Roshi had of course, been reluctant to go, saying that it would be 'rude to leave his lovely guests unattended'. Everyone except Mirai, however, knew the subtle implications behind those words and eventually, he was forced to depart with the others, albeit grudgingly.

The morning went on smoothly, with the two women gaily conversing about work, life, hobbies and all the rest of it. As it so happened, Mirai was an artist by trade, an underappreciated one at that, Bulma thought, as the green-haired beauty rolled through several snaps of the pieces that she'd drawn on her I-Pad, each one deeply vivid in its own right. They ranged all the way from cosmic entities and celestial beings of myth, to the tiniest macroscopic life forms, such as ants and gnats.

"What's with the insects?" The heiress chuckled, as she sifted through the unique gallery.

"Insects are far more significant than people give them credit for." Mirai replied. "Just look at how much damage they've caused throughout history, how many scores of millions have died because of malaria and the plague, for example. People always underestimate them, but mark my words: when all us vertebrates go extinct, those little guys will continue to thrive."

"Haha well, I guess so." Bulma scratched the back of her head, sheepishly. 'Man, this girl's nuts.' She thought to herself.

"We humans tend to see things, on a very superficial level." Mirai stated. "Insects are built to survive under conditions that we can't. For me, they represent strength, where we least expect it. Sometimes, the greatest power can derive from the weakest being and a lot of us don't know that or just choose to ignore it, altogether, so in a way, I try to showcase that, through my art."

Bulma raised her brows and instantly recalled her demise on Namek. An icy shiver ran down her spine at the memory, as she traced her fingers, along her bare midriff that had once been impaled by Frieza's cruel, merciless hand (A/N: Refer to Chapter 29). She'd never felt such searing, exploding pain like that her entire life, but the fact of the matter was that that incident substantiated the profound wisdom, behind the other female's words. Despite her immense inferiority on the physical plane, her sacrifice had triggered Vegeta's legendary transformation, bestowing upon him, an unprecedented power. It was thence that he was able to overwhelm a tyrannical force that had gone unchallenged, for decades. Perhaps her earlier impression of Mirai was premature.

"I never thought about it that way, but you're totally right." Bulma smiled. "You know, maybe you ought to be a philosopher."

Mirai blushed a little, at the praise, whereby the heiress' smile widened. A shy one, but definitely far more intelligent than she let on.

The rest of the day went really well. It'd been far too long, since she'd spent time chilling with her good old friends. She definitely needed that break and felt a lot more motivated now, to catch up with her work.


After a long day at the office, Bulma purchased some groceries from the supermarket, before driving back home. She was dressed in a white, full sleeve, business shirt, a black pencil, mini-skirt that had a small cut above the back hem and matching stiletto pumps. It was dark and she took a detour through one of the most squalid neighbourhoods in all of West City, just wanting to arrive home and rest. All of a sudden, her engine broke down and the slick, metallic purple two-seater, slowly came to a halt.

"Oh fuck! Are you fucking kidding me?!" The heiress snarled, pounding her fist against the steering wheel, before huffing and getting out of the car. Opening the hood, she peered inside and observed a leak in the oil pump. "God, of all the fucking times-"

"Hey, pretty lady, how about some help?!"

Bulma turned sideways and barely made out the figure of a tall, bald man, with a sound build, wearing a tank top and baggy, black jeans. What really made her pale, however, was that ugly, deranged smirk on his face.

"U-U-Umm, n-no thanks, I-I'm good."

"Haha, I don't think you understood me, girly." He replied, his expression becoming even more horrid. "I was asking if you could help me."

"O-Oh, w-well, as you c-can see, I'm quite b-b-busy."

"You hear that boys? She's busy hehehehe."

If Bulma wasn't horrified before, she certainly was now, as multiple, nerve-wracking sounds of cryptic laughter erupted from nearby. After it finally died down, three other figures emanated from an alleyway. It was a little difficult to tell in the dark, but they all seemed to have some distinctive, grisly red skull and swords sign, embossed on their white shirts, indicating that they were likely part of the same gang. She shuddered involuntarily, wondering what she could possibly do now. Dammit, she just had to take that goddamned detour, didn't she?!

"Too busy for the red sword clan, eh?!" One of the hoodlums proclaimed, strutting towards the heiress, whereby she placed a protective hand over her chest. "Come on, lovely lady, we're not asking for much." He inched his lascivious fingers, towards her face. "Just a little something to tide us-"


Instinctively, Bulma yelled and landed a punch square on the gaunt man's nose, eliciting a painful cry from the accosting male, much to the shock of everyone present, including herself. She winced and shook her hand and when she saw the seething face glaring back at her, the heiress bit her lower lip and shifted back.

"You fucking bitch!" He roared, as he carefully held his broken, bleeding nose.

As quickly as possible, Bulma forced herself out of her heels and ran as fast as she could on on her bare feet, in no specific direction.

"After her!" The bald one ordered.

Soles aching and burning from racing through the rough asphalt, Bulma refused to capitulate. Nevertheless, the attackers were on her within no time at all and the heiress knew it. Just as one of them was about to make a grab for her, she side stepped and held her leg out, causing him to trip over it and skid along the road. He screamed, feeling his flesh tear and the hard gravel sting his exposed tissue. That man would not be getting up any time soon. His three comrades, however, were a different story. Desperate and on her last footing, Bulma dug for something, anything, in the pockets of her miniskirt. A scintilla of hope kindled within her, as she remembered that her keychain was actually a tiny, pepper-spray canister. As the remaining hooligans rounded on her, she unleashed her weapon and spritzed it into the eyes of the closest attacker, before kneeing him right in the knackers as hard as she could, whereby he fell to the ground, a drooling mess, gasping, breathing and howling, for dear life.

'That's two down!' Bulma thought, gaining more confidence. Perhaps she could escape this mess, all by herself! The only disgusting ratbags left, were the guy with the broken nose and the big, bald man.

"Go on, what're you waiting for?!" The bald one spurred his comrade on, who appeared reluctant to move forward, especially after seeing the blue-haired virago take down two of his buddies. Vacillating between following his superior's orders and taking off, the man eventually dared to make a slight move in Bulma's direction.

"Don't you take another step or so help me, I will burn your fucking eyeballs, right out of their fucking sockets, I swear to God!" She ominously held out the pepper-spray.

That was all he needed to see and hear, before he cut his losses and darted off, to who knows where.

"Tch, coward." The remaining gangster cracked his shoulders and knuckles a few times, before moving forward, with a malevolent grin. "You're a tough one. I like tough, little birds." The heiress issued the same threats and warnings, just as loudly and forebodingly as before, only this time they didn't seem to get through. No matter! Bulma sprayed away, however, the muscled figure quickly held a protective palm in front of his face and shut his eyes, blocking off most of the blinding, stinging vapour, while his other hand knocked down the canister.

Bulma gasped and any hope she might've had before, dropped to the ground, right along with her pepper-spray. She was all alone and defenseless. One brutal backhand was all it took to floor her, before the depraved lunatic straddled her hips and ripped away at her shirt buttons with one hard jerk and did the same with her bra. She struggled all the while, but could do nothing as her entire torso was exposed to his leering eyes and revolting touch.

"Please, stop!" She begged, tears rapidly cascading down her face. "I'll give you anything you want! Please, don't do this!"

"You are everything I want!" The man cackled evilly, having heard the same cries, countless times before. It just never got old.

The heiress whimpered, plagued with an ugly amalgam of panic and despair, as he began to unbuckle his black, leather belt. No, it couldn't end like this! No way! She'd rather die than be violated by this putrid pile of filth! Where was Vegeta?! Where was Goku?! They always arrived just in time to save her, right?! Why should now be any different?! They had to come, they just had to! She willed it, with every bit of strength she had! She refused to resign herself to such an ugly fate! And yet, there was nothing she could do! She was powerless against this heartless maniac and she knew it! As the fiend was finished unzipping his pants and she saw him pull out his ghastly erection, she came to the sinking realization that there would be no savior or hero, to deliver her from this perilous situation. Not this time…

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