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Moonlight Confessions	By : LadyLark Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female > Vegeta/Bulma Views: 3643 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Moonlight Confessions
- 1
Title: Moonlight Confessions

Rating: R (minor Lime)

Pairing: Bulma/Vegeta

Summary: Under the light of a new moon, Bulma asks some questions and finally gets some answers.

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and its characters are owned by several people, including Akira Toriyama, Shonen Jump, Bird Studios, Toei, Viz, and Funimation. In other words, it doesn’t belong to me. No money was made from the creation of this story, and in fact money was lost from the use of utilities needed to power the laptop I work on.

Moonlight Confessions

By Lady Lark

~*~

Darkness embraced the world. Stars, like diamonds, glittered softly against the midnight velvet of the sky. The greatest of the night’s jewels hung heavy and ponderous over the shrouded world. The newly restored moon gleamed brightly, bathing the world in its pale luminescence. It was a night for poets and lovers.

Bulma Briefs hadn’t seen a full moon in over fifteen years. She didn’t realize how much she had missed Earth’s satellite until it was finally restored. Ever since the night two weeks ago when the media had reported the rediscovery of moon, she had watched the moon move from a gleaming sliver of silver to the glowing pearl that now rose slowly over the horizon. Tonight, she was sitting on her balcony, legs dangling off the edge with a half-empty wineglass at her side, gazing at the white orb moving slowly across the night sky.

Trunks was at Son-kun’s and her parents were spending the weekend with some old college friends. Only she and Vegeta remained at Capsule Corporation. She wished that Vegeta were sitting with her, but he was, as per normal, training. She continued to gaze at the moon-bathed world below her. The trees cast eerily graceful shadows and the entire world appeared to be leeched of color. Finishing her wine, she rose and walked back inside to refill her glass. After pouring the last of the crisp fruity demi-sec into her glass, she went back outside and leaned lightly against the railing.

It truly was a beautiful night. The air was cool and dry and even with the moon shining brightly overhead; the stars were clearly visible. A few stray wispy clouds meandered aimlessly through the inky blackness. Behind her, she heard the door to the bedroom slide open. Soft footfalls walked over to the doorway and a deep voice pierced the darkness. “What are you doing out there woman?”

Bulma didn’t turn around. “I’m watching the moon, Vegeta. I haven’t seen it for years and I missed it,” she replied honestly.

The Saiyajin prince grunted non-committly and he turned away from the balcony, intent on showering before he slept. Her voice stopped him.

“Vegeta?” she called lightly

“What?” he grumbled.

“Come out here and be with me.”

He considered ignoring her request, but something made him reconsider. Pulling the towel from around his neck and setting it on a chair, he walked out into the night.

The crisp coolness of the night air felt good against his sweaty skin. The woman was clad in a simple ivory chemise and a silk robe of the same color. The robe was unbelted, signaling that she had thrown it on for warmth rather than modesty. Even now after nine years and a child, she was still stunning. She possessed a body to make a priest renounce his vows of celibacy and Vegeta was no priest.

He moved to stand behind her sitting form. She turned and looked up at him, giving him a small mysterious smile.

“Sit down, Vegeta, and enjoy the moon,” she said invitingly.

“Why?” he asked, harshly. “I have seen moons before. Yours is ugly greygrey. Why would I want to look at something else that is ugly? I have you to fulfill that need for me,” he stated, deliberately baiting her.

Bulma’s eyes flashed with azure fire. “Fine! I asked you nicely, you lamebrain, but you’re obviously too stupid to take a hint! Well, that’s not my problem!” she raged. “I’ll just be going, Your Highness, so you don’t have to look at this ugly thing!” Grabbing her wineglass, she stood up preparing to storm past him into the bedroom.

Smirking, Vegeta moved to block her path. Bulma growled and tried to force past him, but that proved to be an exercise in futility. Taking a step back, she tried to spot an opening, even though she knew logically escape was unlikely unless Vegeta decided to let her go. She glared at the Saiyajin prince, who only continued to smirk at her in that infuriating way of his.

“Vegeta, move out of the way!”

“No.”

“Listen, you misbegotten son of a monkey, you get the hell out of my way, now!” she shrieked, punctuating her statement by hurling her half full wineglass at him. Negligently, he swatted over the side of the balcony, momentarily taking his eyes off of the raging woman in front of him.

This was the opening Bulma was waiting for. She darted to one side, attempting to make it to the relative safety of the bedroom. However, she only managed a few steps before she felt a muscular arm snag her around her waist, lifting her feet off the ground. Twisting in her captor’s embrace, she swung one clenched fist at his head. Vegeta blocked her blow effortlessly, taking care not to harm the woman struggling in his arms.

“Let me go, you ass!” Bulma yelled, trying to worm free.

Vegeta chuckled, feeling her squirming against him. “I will not let you go, wench. I enjoy you far too much to let you escape,” he stated, fully aware his words had a double meaning.

Bulma stopped her struggles and turned her face so she could look into Vegeta’s eyes. What she saw reflected in them entranced her. For the first time in all of her years of knowing him, he was allowing her to see into the Vegeta buried under his harsh exterior. She saw pride reflected there, of course. Pride in himself, but also pride in her. She saw his desire for her there as well. But then again, she knew he desired her already she could feel evidence of that against her thigh. And she saw a myriad of other feelings as well in those black orbs, all pointing to one undeniable fact. Vegeta cared for her, loved her.

Unable to tear her eyes from his, Bulma reached one slim hand up and tentatively touched it to the side of his face. She felt him lean almost imperceptibly into her hand and an upwelling of emotion threatened to overcome her. In that instant, she was struck by the power she wielded over the Saiyajin Prince. And in the next moment, she was chilled by the revelation that he possessed the same power over her.

Vegeta leaned his head forward so that their brows were touching, and Bulma slipped her arms around his neck. She didn’t know how long they stayed that way, each drinking in the other’s presence. She felt Vegeta shift subtly, bringing his other arm up to stroke her back. She sighed and moved her head to rest it against his shoulder.

Breaking the silence, Bulma asked the question which had been plaguing her thoughts. “Why, Vegeta?”

The hand stroking her back stopped. “What do you mean, woman?”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself backward to look at him. “I don’t know. I’m sorry,” she said softly. Bulma wriggled in his embrace indicating she wanted to be let go. For once, he accommodated her. She reached her hand up once again and stroked his face, but was saddened to see Vegeta’s guarded expression was once more etched upon his features.

Walking over to the edge of balcony, she placed her hands on the rail and looked up at the sky to collect her thoughts. The moon was higher in the sky now, she noted absently. Drawing a deep breath, she started to speak. “I think I’m asking why to a lot of things, Vegeta,” she began softly. “The first in my mind is ‘Why me?’ Why did you pick me out of all of the females in the Universe?” she queried half in frustration half in confusion. “The second is ‘Why did you choose to stay?’ You could have left after the Cell Games but didn’t. Why? I never understood that, because you certainly hadn’t stuck around before that,” she continued, her voice rising in pitch and tempo. “The third I suppose is ‘Why did you kill all those people at the tournament?’ and that spawns another of ‘Why did you have to die?’” her voice caught, tears filling her eyes. “Do you know how much that hurt? It was like a piece of me had been ripped out! I never want to feel that way again. But I guess the biggest why is ‘Why do you treat me the way you do?’ The insults and the contrariness along with the neglect. Just, Why?!” Tears streamed down her face as she drew to the end of her speech, and she swiped at them angrily with the back of one hand.

Vegeta stared at her for a minute, unable to form an answer to all of her questions. Slowly, he walked over to stand beside her at the rail. He did not turn to look at her, but instead stared at the moon for several minutes.

When he did speak, the words which came out of his mouth seemed oddly subdued. “Why are you humans so attached to your moon?”

“You’re avoiding the question, Vegeta,” she stated flatly.

“No, I am not,” he retorted. “Please tell me why you are so attached to your moon?”

“I don’t know!” Bulma said, exasperated. “I guess because it’s always been there. It’s a part of our world; just looking at it could make me feel calmer and more connected to Chikyuu. I know a lot of people who feel the same way.” She paused, tilting her head to gaze at the white orb in the sky. After a moment, she turned her head to face Vegeta and found that he was watching her. In a quieter tone, she continued. “Then, suddenly it wasn’t there anymore and I realized how much we had taken it for granted. It was like a big part of our global identity was gone and our equilibrium was thrown off. Now that it’s back, I guess that we appreciate it more because we know what we felt like when it was gone,” she concluded.

“There is the answer to most of your questions.”

“Huh? I don’t understand.”

“Hn,” Vegeta grunted, a wry smile coming to his lips. “I expected as much.” At Bulma’s glare, he continued. “Let me explain. Your first question is easy and you should already know the answer to it.”

“Well, I don’t since I asked the question, you muscle-bound meathead.”

“Obviously,” he said derisively. “I chose you, because you are the best match for me. You were not intimidated by me, despite your pitiful fighting ability. You have the heart of a Saiyajin.”

“I do not! You take that back!

“No.”

“I am nothing like a Saiyajin, Vegeta. You’ve said it yourself many times. I’m too weak, and I don’t like fighting.” Vegeta snorted in derision at her statement. “I don’t enjoy getting my ass handed to me on a regular basis the way you appear to. I have more sense than to go picking fights I can’t win!”

He held up a hand to stop her tirade. “Listen, and mind you listen well, woman, for I will never explain myself to you again. You are wrong. You do have the heart of a Saiyajin.” His eyes swept over her face, taking in the stubborn set of her chin. “You do enjoy battle, although you prefer a battle of wits not of strength. You thrive on conflict, be it mental, emotional, or physical. You automatically seek to be the best, the strongest, the smartest. You refuse to accept defeat. You seek out challenges. You crave the excitement, the thrill of doing something that may cause you pain or even death for the sake of some intangible reward.” He stopped, letting his lips curve into a smirk. “Indeed, your sense is no better than mine; you consistently fight me although you stand no chance of winning. Although, I will grant you your aim has improved since we first met.”

“I’ll show you my aim, you overgrown primate!” Bulma shrieked, bringing her right fist up to strike at Vegeta’s head.

Taking care not to hurt her, the warrior caught her wrist with his left hand. Snarling, the blue-haired scientist retaliated with her left fist. Again, Vegeta captured her wrist with his free hand. Shifting his grip slightly, he spun Bulma in his grasp so that she was effectively bound with her arms crossed against her chest.

“Let me go!” she demanded, struggling free herself.

“Why? I have you right where I want you,” he murmured against the nape of her neck. “You realize, you have proved my point, woman?”

Bulma stopped squirming as his earlier words penetrated her into her brain. She had never considered her actions in quite that way. Their squabbles both physical and verbal were forms of battle. It was true that ofteoften tried to hit, or in some other way physically best, Vegeta and never succeeded. She conceded she did enjoy their verbal sparring, he challenged her intelligence more than any other man. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“You may be right, Vegeta.” She sighed, the anger and frustration from moments ago fading away as she contemplated his observations. “You may be right. Dammit!”

He chuckled, holding her closer. “Of course I am.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, you know.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is rude,” she stated, heatedly.

“Since when have I ever cared about human courtesies?” he asked, archly.

Bulma suppressed a sigh. “I know you don’t care about them. But I do.” She tilted her head to look at Vegeta’s bemused profile. “And I am not going to win this one am I?”

“No.”

“Asshole.”

“And you it, it,” he observed.

She ignored his statement, refusing to give him anymore ammunition. “You still haven’t finished answering my questions, Vegeta. I’m not going to be distracted by your baiting me,” she said, returning the subject to where she wanted it to be.

The Saiyajin Prince carefully concealed a smile at his mate’s single-mindedness. He tilted his head up, gathering his thoughts. He felt uncomfortable being this open with anyone. “I chose you, woman because you made me aware of something that I was missing, but had not known I was missing. I missed having a home.” He paused, steeling himself against the feelings which rose unbidden at his revelation. “When I met you, I had not had a home in over twenty-five years. Nor did I want one. I considered it a weakness. But that did not squelch my instinctive desire for one. I fought fist and fang from forming an attachment to you and the brat. That is why I acted the way I did before Cell,” Vegeta explained.

The prince stopped, releasing his hold on Bulma to clench and unclench his fists as he attempted to collect his thoughts. The woman turned around and gazed up at him expectantly. Vegeta was uncertain how to explain the next part, since it dealt with feelings he rarely acknowledged. But as he looked down into Bulma’s eyes, he saw underneath the shock and confusion that she truly wanted to hear the story.

He dropped his gaze from hers to stare at his hands. “Then, I watched our son from the future die before my eyes. And I was helpless to stop it.” He heard her gasp but ignored it. He swallowed painfully, digging his fingernails into his palms, while he relived that horrible day years ago. “I watched his blood soak into dry, dusty ground and felt something I have only felt once before while on Namek. I felt regret,” he paused, drawing in a deep breath. “I regretted not spending more time with the boy. I regretted not being alive in his time. I regretted leaving you alone to fend for yourself and our son. I regretted so much, and it hurt. I foolishly attacked Cin min my blind rage and had to be saved by Kakarott’s brat. After the battle, after Trunks had been revived, I made a vow that I would not be forced to face that same regret again.” He lifted his head to look at her. “That is why I stayed.”

“Vegeta . . .” she began.

“No,” he interrupted. “Let me finish. You wanted to know ‘Why?’ So I will tell you. Remember when I asked you about the moon and you said ‘It had always been there, but when it was gone, you realized that you had missed it?’” he asked. Vegeta watched her nod her head, her eyes revealing her puzzlement. “Before I came to Chikyuu, I killed without impunity and I reveled in it. I was not a good man, Bulma, and I deserved to go to hell when I died the first time. But after a few years of living on Chikyuu with you and the brat, I realized something. I missed my old self, the me who lived only for blood and battle. I was not happy with the man I had perceived I had become. I felt by caring for you and the brat, that I had become weak. And when Babidi offered me the chance to become stronger, I seized it with both fists. I reverted to the evil man that I had been. I challenged Kakarott. But during our fight, we noticed a power full of great evil.”

“Buu,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Correct. Buu. When I sensed that overwhelming evilness, somehow it brought me to my senses. I realized, unlike you humans, that I did not need the thing I had missed. at iat it was a part of my life that was now in the past. I knocked out Kakarott, ensuring if I fell in battle he would be able to protect Chikyuu. I arrived in time to save the brat and that idiot Kakarott’s get from the pink monstrosity. But I was not strong enough to destroy Buu. I thought that maybe, if I focussed all of my power into self-destructing, that I could obliterate the abomination and save you and Trunks at the cost of my life. It seemed like a fair price to pay. So I paid it,” Vegeta paused, an expression of anguish crossing his features. “I failed. And because of my failure, I was unable to spare you from knowing death.”

“Vegeta . . . I didn’t know. I . . . I don’t know what to say.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Reaching out with one arm, he drew her to him. His other hand reached up and gently smoothed away the wet streaks from her face. “There is nothing to say, woman,” he said gently. “I have made my choices and if given the opportunity, I would make the same choices again.” He wrapped his arms around her, turning her so that they faced the same direction. “I discovered I am stronger because I care. That strength allowed me to fight even after death. What I had perceived as a weakness, ended up being the one thing which gave me the chance for redemption.” His arms tightened about her. “I brought you back, woman. Just like my death injured you, your death injured me. You are a part of me, and though you may never hear it from my lips again, I care for you.” He felt the shock at his words radiate through her body. He planted a kiss at the nape of her neck and slowly moved his lips over her neck until they rested against her ear. “I will stay with you,” he murmured. “I will protect you. I will pleasure you. You are my mate. This is how it should be.”

His hands traced intricate patterns across her belly and he felt, rather than heard, her soft moan. He could feel his desire for her mounting, and he lowered his head to her shoulder to inhale her feminine scent. Trailing his fingers up over her breasts to her shoulders, he began to slide the ivory robe off.

The sudden loss of warmth brought Bulma to her senses. She had been caught up in the pleasures his hands and mouth had been giving her. She quickly squirmed out of Vegeta’s grasp, leaving him holding her empty robe. When she turned around, she found herself fighting the urge to giggle at the prince’s surprised expression.

Still, she couldn’t manage to keep her lips from twitching with repressed laughter. With a growl, Vegeta tossed the garment to one side. Holding up her arm, she motioned for him to stop.

“I’m sorry, Vegeta,” she said with a smile. “I just realized that you haven’t answered my last question.”

“Who gives a hell about your last question?”

Anger suffused her features once again. “I do, you hormonal simian!”

Bulma watched as Vegeta began to chuckle, and then break out into a hearty laugh. “You want to know why I bait you, woman?”

“Yes!” she said, stamping her foot.

“This is why,” he said, reaching out to touch one cheek. “Your funny colored eyes flash like lightening and your cheeks become flushed with emotion.” He trailed his hand down her neck to rest in the space between her breasts. Her heart began to race indicating her growing desire. Slowly, he slid his hand across her breast to brush her nipple. Feeling it harden under his thumb, he gave it a little pinch before gliding across the silk to caress its twin. “It is like watching a storm come to life. All power and beauty and just a little dangerous,” he breathed, huskily. “I cannot resist braving the storm. It excites me,” he paused, lifting his obsidian eyes to capture hers. Her eyes widened then closed slowly as she reveled in the sensations he was causing.

Vegeta smiled triumphantly and continued his explorations. He heard her breath catch in her throat as his fingers danced across her belly moving steadily southward. Reaching the hem of her chemise, he steadily inched it upwards until he reached the satin of her panties. Slipping under the fabric, he sought, and found, the little jewel nestled between her curls. His grin widened he discovered that she was very ready for him.

“Vegeta,” she moaned.

Sliding his free arm around her body, the prince tightened his grip on the woman while the fingers on his right hand skillfully stoked her clitoris. He teased the nub until she was moaning and thrusting her hips rhythmically against the questing digits. Vegeta’s head swooped down to claim her lips. While thoroughly plundering her mouth, his fingers never stopped caressing her silken heat. Suddenly, Bulma’s eyes flew open with a gasp her thighs clenching and unclenching around his hand as little electric shocks raced through her body.

“And, it excites you,” he whispered, ending the kiss as he gently withdrew his fingers from between her legs. Deliberately, he brought them to his lips and licked juice clean. “That is what that pitiful scarred warrior could not hold you.”

She stared at him in shock for several moments before recovering her wits enough to speak. “You mean it’s a form of foreplay?”

He grinned, watching her temper rise up once again. Her mouth was moving; attempting to form words and her color was heightening. He knew that it would not be long before she exploded.

And he was right.

“How dare you manipulate me like that you . . . you . . . perverse alien,” she raged, eyes flashing and arms waving. “My emotions are not your fucking vibrator to turn on at the flick of the switch when ever you feel the need for a little poke! You’re sick. You know that. You’re fucking sick, and wrong, and cruel. d id if you think that I am turned on by this little trick, buster, you are sadly mistak—umpf . . .”

Vegeta drew an end to her tirade by passionately kissing her. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he just tightened his grasp. Her hands alternated between smacking and pushing at his chest. Grinning internally, he deepened his kiss, loosening his embrace slightly to allow one hand to once more explore the curves of her body. He felt Bulma shudder as his hand traced the underside of her breast. As his hand reach up to cup her breast, he heard her sigh and lean into him. He opened his mouth and when he felt her do the same, he knew that she had surrendered once again to the passions raging within her.

With reluctance he tore his mouth from hers, to begin nibbling the side of her neck. She tilted her head up to give him easier access and opened her eyes.

Overhead she saw the moon continuing on its path across the sky and she experienced a sense of epiphany. “Vegeta,” she began breathlessly. She felt him grunt against her skin acknowledging that he was listening. “Vegeta, I don’t think I need the moon anymore.”

He lifted his head from the valley between her breasts and chuckled huskily. Returning to his task, he lifted one arm and pointed one finger at the satellite orbiting overhead and fired.

~*~

AN:

This story, unlike most of the ones I have written, started off as an answer to a fanfic challenge I posted two years ago. It was supposed to be a supernatural smut fic. It didn’t stay that way. When I came back to it this weekend, I found that it wanted a plot and it was going to be difficult until I gave it one. So I did. And this is the result. I wrote the majority of the dialogue in one sitting in about an hour. The rest of the story, I filled in later. It is kinda exciting for me, since this is the first story I have written in total in over a year and a half. Life is a bitch like that!

I would like to thank Rhianikk for beta reading this for me. ^_^

Let me know what you think!

Also after much prodding and poking I have made this a bit more lemon-scented. I still don't tend to write pr0n since in many cases I find it superfluous to the story being written.

Ja Ne

Lady Lark
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Moonlight Confessions