The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5403

Chapter 49: Not your typical catfight

Five weeks passed since the near-rape incident. Bulma had long since gotten past it. However, the training that Vegeta was putting her through was extremely taxing, to say the least. So far, it was strictly physical.

"When are you gonna teach me how to fly and fire Ki blasts?" She pouted, as she stood on one leg, knee raised around mid-chest level and arms slanted diagonally, in a Shaolin crane stance. "You said you would."

"Fly?" The Prince scoffed. "You haven't even learned how to crawl yet, silly female."

Bulma grit her teeth, shooting him a hard glare.

"You know, I really feel like kicking you right now, but I'd probably end up falling on my ass and would have to start this silly exercise, all over again."

"Damn straight." He smirked, rapaciously drinking in the alluring sight of her long, shapely legs and supple midriff. For training, she usually wore a low cut sports bra and little gym shorts with small slits on the sides that didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Stop that, you pervert!" She seethed, cheeks flushing and a familiar warmth pooling between her legs, under his lascivious scrutiny. "I'm trying to concentrate!"

"A true warrior can concentrate, under any circumstance." The Prince replied, with an impish grin, his eyes glued to those enticingly toned, gleaming gams. "Besides, it's your fault for wearing something so provocative."

"Why you little- ugh screw you, I'm not gonna give into your bullshit! Not this time, hmph!" With patience and forbearance she'd hadn't know hitherto, the heiress swallowed her mounting wroth and let that insufferable lover/mentor of hers, have his pathetic victory. She knew that if she let him get to her, she'd end up on the ground and would have to repeat this vexatious drill. "How much longer, anyway?!" She hissed.

"Ten more minutes."

"I fucking hate you!"

"I know."


"Careful now, or I might just add another five minutes."

"Ugh- dammit, why must you be so infuriating?!"

Vegeta simply chuckled. He never imagined that training her would be quite so entertaining.

Standing on one leg for twenty minutes was much more difficult than it sounded and it did sound pretty fucking difficult. The Prince had recommended she practice in her own time. At first, she disregarded his advice, but afterwards learned that it was to her own benefit, since with each new session, Vegeta was increasing the intensity of her training, at a rate that was virtually impossible, to keep up with.

'Guess he wasn't kidding when he said he wouldn't be going easy.'

This barely scratched the surface, however. It was the sprinting, push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups, pull-ups, deep knee-bends and back exercises, which wore out her hapless body so much that at times, she would end up in tears.

But when all was said and done, her pride, self-confidence and contentment would shoot right through the roof. And thanks to the training, her zesty sex life was far more vigorous than ever before. Most notable of all, however, was the toll it had taken on her personality. If she didn't notice it herself, those around her found Bulma to be more amiable, refined, elegant and disciplined in nature, as opposed to the typically spoiled, entitled and churlish heiress.

Nighttime marked the final bathing occasion with Vegeta, where Bulma could lay back and relax, while the Prince deftly scrubbed her clean, as per their little deal (A/N: Refer to previous chapter). 'I'm really gonna miss this.' She thought, wistfully.

Another week thereafter, Vegeta got her started on basic blocks, hand strikes and leg strikes, before moving onto locks, grapples, ground techniques and self-defence maneuvers.

Two months passed…

"Vegeta come on, there's no way I can spar with you." Bulma grumbled. "You'd mop the floor with me!"

"It's not a spar, because I won't be fighting back." He shook his head. "I'm simply going to evade and if you can land a single clean hit, you win."

Bulma chewed her lower lip, hesitating for a moment or two, before nodding her head, as she tentatively assumed her battle stance.


She was instantly on the offensive, firing away with every strike in the book and hitting nothing but thin air, at every turn.

"Dammit, you're too fast!" She whined, already out of breath, after a mere two minutes.

"I'm keeping my power level even with yours." The Prince contended. "As long as I'm doing that, I can't move any faster than you can."

"Then why can't I hit you?!" She frustratingly demanded.

"You're not reading my movements properly, that's why." Vegeta stoically replied. "Your entire body is tense. You're overthinking. Loosen your muscles and try again. Remember, use your instincts, but don't rely on them too much, or else you'll be caught off guard."

"God, you make it sound so easy." Bulma groused.

"Stop complaining and start attacking!"

"Alright, alright."

Taking a deep breath and shaking her arms and legs out, the heiress leapt forward, with a fresh barrage of kicks and punches, doing better this time, but still nowhere close to reaching her target.

"Wait- just a- moment." The heiress strained, clasping her knees as she doubled over, greedily gulping the air around her. "Need to- catch my- breath."

"Oh come on." The agitated Prince pressed the base of his palm, against his forehead.

"Sorry, it's just- hard." Bulma stood straight. "You know- for some reason- I'm feeling- really heavy- right now." She slowly cupped her swelling mounds within her dainty palms, whereby Vegeta gaped at her, utterly dumbstruck, at the sudden, unexpected move.

That simple second of distraction was more than enough to catch the Saiyan off-guard. Vegeta hardly followed as Bulma swiftly spun around and landed a spinning wheel kick right in the face, the back end of her Saiyan, training boot colliding hard against his cheek bone.

He was forced a step or two backwards, trying to regain footing, but after a few seconds, falling on his back. The heiress was instantly on top, her bare, porcelain legs astride his firm, naked chest, as a smug smile of triumph glittered her features.

"I did it!" She cheered giddily. "I actually beat you!"

"You- that- that was plain dirty!"

"Come on, don't make excuses now!" She shot back, her eyes narrowed and grin, wider than ever. "You said that if I hit you once, I win. Well, not only did I hit you, but I totally floored your ass!"

"Bullshit, you said you were still catching your- mffhh-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" The heiress shifted her position forward, straddling his face between her legs and thereby smothering his objections, with her concealed centre-folds. Her bold, brash and brazen move instantly set him aflame, with desire. "You're the one who never stops preaching that all's fair in battle. It's not my fault, you fell for such a simple ruse, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given my flawlessly sexy anatomy."

She laughed, when she heard the Prince growl against her nub.

"Now then." Bulma abruptly stood over him and removed her boots, thereafter tugging at her little black gym shorts. Vegeta gulped, frozen stiff as she pulled them off and tossed them aside.

A/N: Warning: A tiny bit of lemon here, but nothing too explicit hehe. :D

"Wait, what're you- mffhh-"

Not another word was said, as Bulma's wet, flowing nether lips ground against Vegeta's lips. Yet again, she bestrode the astounded face of the flame-haired Saiyan.

"See this, Vegeta." She complacently crowed. "This is what defeat tastes like." The Prince's chest rose and fell, in short and rapid, peaks and troughs, sweeping bundles of sizzling desire, possessing every inch of him, as his lusty female claimed her victory, in every sense of the word. "Now taste it!" Bulma fiercely demanded. He didn't need to be told twice and his voracious tongue immediately began it's covetous foray into the sweet, familiar territory within her moist, blossoming inner-walls, ravenously indulging in the tropical taste of her enriched, flavourful nectar. The heiress pressed down harder and screamed, as she felt him pleasure her with that entrancingly hot tongue, his muffled moans shooting from her genital nucleus, right up to the tips of her shoulders, deluging her every pore, with mind-numbing ecstasy.

A few months later…

"Hi Bulma- whoa, what the heck is going on?" Earth's dumbfounded hero asked, making a sudden appearance in the gravity room, while a certain odd pair were in the midst of an unforeseen training session.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Kakarot?!" Vegeta brusquely demanded. "Get out, now!"

"Whoa, whoa, relax Veg, I'm just here to-"


A right fist connected with Goku's jaw, sending him flying headfirst into the solidified wall, behind him. Bulma gasped, covering her mouth in shock, before hissing. "Vegeta!"

"Ow, hey, that wasn't very-"

"Call me that again and it'll be the last thing you ever say, clown!" The Prince snapped, cutting off his Super Saiyan colleague.

"But- but Bulma said you loved that nickname." Goku pouted hurtfully.

Vegeta shot his blue-haired pupil a chilling glare, whereby she bit her lower lip and let out a few guilty titters. Curse her and her sick jokes! How was that even funny?!

"Care to explain?!" He asked, or rather demanded.

"Um- not really." Bulma answered weakly, before wisely diverting her attention to the disgruntled encroacher. "So, what're you doing here Goku?"

"Who, me?" The Saiyan asked, pointing to himself.

"Well, I don't see any other Gokus around here, do you?" She huffed, arms akimbo, rolling her eyes at his subsequent blank look. "Anyway, why're you here?"

"I- uh- I- sorry, I can't even remember now." He laughed, placing two fingers on his forehead and abruptly vanishing. An awkward pause followed.

"That was weird." Bulma finally remarked in bewilderment, cocking her head sideways.

"You know, I don't appreciate you spreading such idiotic rumors, so just for that, you're going to do another eight-hundred push-ups, within a half-hour."

"Oh come on, no fair!" The heiress ardently whined, in protest.

"You brought it on yourself, so I don't want to hear a single complaint from you!"


"So, anything?" Piccolo asked. He and Goku had been expecting Trunks' conception, for quite a while now. That was the purpose of the rustic Saiyan's unwelcome visit, to Capsule Corporation.

"Other than a swelling jaw and a bruised skull, no." Goku replied, massaging the aforementioned areas, as he frowned pensively. "I don't really understand. Haven't they been- you know-"

"Stop, dammit, I don't wanna hear about it!" The Namekian growled, revolted at the slightest allusion to the humanoid mating process. He'd once mistakenly gone too close to Mount Paozu, during the night and heard the jovial Saiyan grunting and moaning, as he made out with that raven-haired banshee wife of his. "Ugh, disgusting!" He shuddered at the horrid memory. The noise alone was so nauseating that he'd been meditating for weeks, in a futile attempt to try and rid it, from his tormented mind. He couldn't even imagine how traumatized he'd be, had he gotten close enough to get a visual. Thank God, that wasn't the case.

"But still- Trunks." The Saiyan continued. "He should've been conceived by now."

"Maybe it's not supposed to happen, in this timeline."

"No way, that can't be right!" Earth's hero vehemently shook his head. "If I know Bulma-" He suddenly brightened up. "Oh yeah, speaking of Bulma, I saw her training with Vegeta! Isn't that exciting?"

Piccolo's narrowed eyes momentarily widened, just a tad.

"Not really." He eventually shrugged.

"Just wait till Chi-Chi hears about this!"

"I'd rather not."

A short while later…

"WHAT?!" The raven-haired woman shrieked, much to the distress of every living creature in Mount Paozu that wasn't already deaf. "Vegeta's training Bulma?!"

"Uh- yeah."

"That- that can't be right, why would he ever-"

"I don't know."

Suddenly, the Ox Princess began to curse herself, as internal doubts festered, with regards to her initial assessment of the regal Saiyan. She was utterly convinced that everything he did was purely out of self-interest, but- that couldn't possibly account for this. There had to be some sort of reasonable explanation.

"Did you actually see them training?" Chi-Chi inquired.

"Well- I only caught a glimpse, but Bulma's power level was way higher than the average human's." He recounted.

"I see." She mused for several moments, before smirking, as an interesting idea hit her. "You know, it's been quite a while, since I've trained myself and honestly, I do kinda miss it."

Goku toppled to the ground, anime-style. Since Gohan's birth, all his wife had ever done was gripe about how terrible martial-arts was and all of a sudden, she wanted to- wait a second what did she want?

The Ox Princess pranced over to the wall-mounted, home phone, pulling it to her ear and dialling CC's private number. A few rings later…

"Hello, Briefs residence, who am I speaking with?"

"Hi Dr. Briefs, it's me Chi-Chi." The Ox Princess answered.

"Oh hi, Chi-Chi, how are you, my dear?"

"I'm fine thanks, yourself?"

"Not bad, not bad." He replied. "Do you wish to speak with Bulma, by any chance?"

"I do."

"Well, I'm afraid she's- uh- in the middle of something right now, so may I ask her to call you back?"


"Alrighty then, bye-bye."


The very next day…

"You know, this isn't a very smart idea." Vegeta stated, while Bulma garbed her skimpy, unofficial training uniform, her aquamarine hair tied back in a pony tail, as she prepared to head to Mount Paozu.

"Oh give me a break, like you're one to talk about smart ideas." The heiress shot back, with a scowl. "Honestly, what would you do if someone asked you, for a spar?"

"Kakarot asks me all the time and I just say no."

"That's different, that's just your ego." She countered, before sighing. "Look, it's just a friendly spar, there's nothing to worry about."

Vegeta grit his teeth, vexed by her stubbornness.

"Besides, if you're that concerned, you can come with me."

After a short argument, the Prince yielded and took off, cradling Bulma, within his strapping arms.

"Hey, come on, I can fly on my own now!" She protested.

"You can't afford to waste any energy, before a fight like this."

"It's a spar, not a fight." She argued.

"Whatever the case, my point remains." He insisted.

When they were around two miles away from their destination, the Prince abruptly let go and Bulma nearly landed face-first into the grass, before firing up her engines and shooting towards the insolent Saiyan.

"Hey, what the hell?!" The floating heiress loured.

"A little flying should help you warm up." He shrugged and zoomed off.

"Ugh- that jerk!" She exasperatedly trailed after him, knowing exactly why he'd dropped her. He never wanted to be seen doing anything remotely affectionate, for another. Little did Bulma know the real reason behind his action, as she arrived and gracefully landed in the heart of the savanna landscape, before a gaping audience.

"Y-Y-You c-can f-f-fly?" Chi-Chi incredulously stammered, before shaking her head and glowering at Goku. "Hey, why didn't you ever teach me how to fly, you big oaf?!"

"Uh- w-well- you n-n-never asked."

"Did you ask Vegeta to teach you how to fly?" The raven-haired Princess looked pointedly, at her soon-to-be opponent.

"Well, I kinda did, but-"

"Goku, I better learn how to fly, by the end of next week, or else someone's gonna pay dearly!" She turned her fearsome attention back to her husband.

"Okay, okay." The helpless Saiyan waved his hands, in surrender. 'I just don't understand her. One moment she forbids me from training Gohan and the next moment, she wants me to train her. I love you Chi-Chi, but you sure are crazy, sometimes.' He drolly thought to himself.

"Tch, let's get on with this already!" Vegeta growled, from a distance.

"Okay, Mr. Impatient!" Bulma took a deep breath and began warming-up, with a few stretches, splits and high-kicks.

"You're seriously gonna wear that?!" The raven-haired woman asked, scornfully appraising Bulma's attire, or lack thereof.

"Oh grow up, drama queen." The heiress rolled her eyes. She didn't understand why excessively-cultured, goody-goodies like Chi-Chi, made a big deal over such trifles. As far as she was concerned, she was adequately dressed, thank you very much!

"Hey Chi-Chi, remember what I told you." Goku gave her a knowing look.

"Yeah, yeah I remember!" She grumbled.

"Wait, what did you tell her?" Bulma warily asked her clownish, best friend.

"Uh- nothing, I just- asked her to do her best hehehe." Goku slurred, laughing and scratching his head, sheepishly.

"Whatever." Bulma shook her head, unconvinced, but not particularly concerned.

The females got into their battle stances, those in attendance giving them a wide berth.

"Ready, start!" Goku gave the go-ahead and the pair leapt at one-another, firing an arsenal of attacks. To the utmost surprise of all those around, besides Vegeta, it was the blue-haired woman who had a clear edge the entire time, landing clean hits, one after another.

A wheel kick from Bulma, struck Chi-Chi right on the temple, immediately flooring her.

"Come on Chi-Chi, I know you're better than this." Bulma goaded.

"Grrr, take this!" The other woman stood to her feet and shot a powerful overhand right, however, Bulma slipped to the left and took hold of her arm, swiftly tripping her feet out from under her her, with a leg sweep and instantly pressing her advantage, as she locked her in a lethal, jiu-jitsu arm bar.

"Ow, stop, stop!" Chi-Chi cried, as Bulma continued to bend her poor arm, her toned calf pressing hard beneath the raven-haired woman's chin.


"Yeah, whatever, submit!" The Ox-Princess relented and Bulma let go. 'Damn, she's good!' She thought to herself, rubbing and rolling her aching arm, while a certain flame-haired Saiyan smirked, from the sidelines.

"You taught her really well, Vegeta." Goku grinned, suddenly next to the Prince.

"Shut-up!" The older Saiyan blushed, turning his gaze aside. "Mind your own business! Besides, shouldn't you be cheering for your harpy wife?"

"Hey, that's not nice." Goku grumbled. "Anyway, Chi-Chi might be my wife, but Bulma's still my oldest friend, so- it's kinda hard to pick a side, here."

"Tch, your indecision is a weakness." Vegeta disdainfully remarked.

"Guess Round 1, goes to me." The heiress smiled smugly, placing her hands on her hips.

"It's not over yet, Bulma!" Chi-Chi fumed, before taking a breather and collecting herself. She really needed to focus, lest she suffer another ignominious defeat.

The second round was better for Chi-Chi, but Bulma still maintained the upper-hand.

'She's really quick on her feet.' The Ox Princess thought in frustration, completely on the defensive, as she tried to evade those lightning-fast kicks, most missing, but some hitting their target. Having learned gymnastics as a girl, leg strikes were Bulma's favourites.


A left knee landed right beneath the chin, forcing Chi-Chi back, before Bulma delivered a front kick to the mid-section and a side-kick to the jaw, all with the same leg, each blow landing less than a fraction of a second, from the other. The raven-haired mother snarled and rushed forward, only to be floored with a jumping roundhouse kick, right across the face that whipped her head sideways. Had she been an ordinary human, the move would've easily snapped her neck, but alas she was not.

"Wow, aren't I just awesome?!" Bulma preened, flicking her hair back and winking, as she held up two-fingers, in a peace sign. "Guess I'm the new champ."

"Alright, that does it!" An irate Chi-Chi stood up, dusting off her clothes and fuming with rage. "No more holding back."

"Wh-What, y-you were h-holding back?!" The heiress stammered, before bitterly glaring at her opponent. "Why didn't you tell me that?!"

"You wanna do this for real, then?!" Chi-Chi challenged.


"Go ahead, give me your best!" She prompted.

Bulma did just that, charging in, with her right hand raised.

"No don't-" Goku objected, while Vegeta was preparing to intervene, at any second.

This time, Chi-Chi easily evaded the attack and landed a hard, right knee to the mid-section, whereby Bulma's eyes widened and she flew back, skidding along the grass, as she clutched her fractured ribs, coughing out mouthfuls of blood.

Instantly alarmed, Vegeta flew over to the heiress, watching in dismay, as she winced with every agonizing breath. Chi-Chi moved towards her, as well.

"Oh God, Bulma, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stay away!" The Prince snarled at the raven-haired woman, dark eyes flashing with a gruesome gleam of pure murder. "Stay the fuck away!"

Chi-Chi stopped in her tracks, gulping, face writ with remorse and contrition, as she observed her blue-haired friend, struggle for breath.

"Chi-Chi, I specifically told you to hold back!" Goku chided, standing next to his wife and turning her, so they were face-to-face. "Why'd you have to do that for?!"

"I- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She grievously muttered, placing a hand on her aching chest. "I- I don't know know what came over me, I-" A heavy feeling of guilt flooded through the Ox Princess, as her dark eyes glistening, with abject tears. She couldn't believe she'd done that to Bulma, of all people. The same Bulma that had protected them from Vegeta and Frieza, the same Bulma that saved her little boy's life and that of her husband. How could she?

"You- you knew- all along." Bulma gave Vegeta a look of betrayal that hacked right through his solidified heart. The Prince culpably nodded. She instantly figured it out. This whole thing was nothing but a masquerade. She stood absolutely no chance against Chi-Chi's real strength. Vegeta and Goku must've asked her to suppress her true power. Only now did she realize that even if she trained her hardest every single day, for the next ten years, she could never reach Chi-Chi's level. Vegeta knew it. They all knew it, but they'd kept it from her, the entire time. Her own weakness and limitations hurt far more than her physical injuries. "Wh-why didn't you- tell me?" The heiress asked, eyes fluttering to a close, as she lost consciousness.

"Bulma?!" The Prince gasped. "Dammit!" He seethed, before gathering her in his arms and hurrying back to Capsule Corporation. He was out of senzu beans, so he needed to put her in a regeneration tank, posthaste. The panic-ridden hysteria consumed him so much, he'd forgotten about Goku's instant transmission technique and the fact that the younger Saiyan, still had a few beans. Nonetheless, he arrived and delivered the immobile heiress, to the nearest healing tank.

Upon rousing, Bulma felt severely disheartened, like nothing but a fragile piece of glass that could be broken at any moment.

"Okay, she's stronger than you, so what?!" Vegeta growled, peeved at seeing her, in such a pitifully dismal state. It wasn't like her at all!

"Hmph, that's putting it lightly." The heiress shook her head. "I'm nothing compared to her. I thought I could make something of myself, if I trained, but in the end, it didn't mean a thing."

"Look at it this way." The Prince contended. "Your technique is obviously far superior to hers. Kakarot and I merely asked her to suppress her power down to your level, to make it an even playing-field."

"Why?!" Bulma grimaced, her indignant words, wrought with poison. "You thought I was too weak?! Is that it?! Is that all I am to you?! A weakling?!"

"You're certainly acting like one, now." He muttered.

"Shut up, you lied to me, you asshole!"

"I warned you not to fight her!" Vegeta argued.

"Yeah, because you knew I'd lose!" She fired back, in outrage. "You should've fucking told me that!"

"Oh come on, as if that would stop you!" He scoffed. "You're as stubborn as-" His words suddenly caught in his throat.

"As stubborn as- you?" Bulma finished, voice meeker than before. Taking several minutes to think it through, she came to the conclusion that he was probably right. If he had told her the truth, it would only spur her further, in a reckless endeavour to prove him wrong. In many ways, she was so much like him: rash, unwavering, competitive and egotistical. A hint of a smile graced her despondent features, at the thought. She still felt down, but understood now why he did, what he did. He was only looking out for her wellbeing. Even then, her pride wouldn't let it go, so easily. "Look, how would you feel if you were in my position? What if I knew Goku was stronger than you and I asked him to hold back?"

Vegeta thought it over, before placing a palm on his forehead.

"I'm different than you." He proclaimed. "I'm a warrior, born and bred. You're a scientist. Fighting isn't in your blood."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

"You wanted me to cut the bullshit, so that's what I'm doing!" He growled. "I didn't train you, so you could be the most powerful warrior on the planet. Believe me, that'll never happen."

"Gee, thanks." She snorted glibly.

"I trained you, so you can defend yourself against ordinary humans, without my assistance." The Prince explained. "Your skills are far more than adequate, for that. Where you go from here, is entirely your choice."

"What're you saying?!" She asked, bitingly. "That I should just quit?!"

"The human-fighters will never be a match for us Saiyans." Vegeta countered. "And yet, they continue training, in the face of impossible odds."

Bulma peered into his obsidian irises, as she deciphered those words. Yes, perhaps her training could only take her so far, but that didn't mean she had to run away with her tail between her legs. No! That's not the type of person she was! Azure eyes glimmering with resolve, she nodded her head.


"Fine what?"

"I'll continue the training." She vehemently nodded.

"Hn." Vegeta took hold of her hands and pulled her, to her feet. Yes, this was just like her. He'd known her to be many things, but a quitter wasn't one of them. Now would be no different.

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