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Stupid Monkey	By : VegsMate Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 2429 -:- 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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Special Thanks: to RM for beta-ing.

Chapter 14: The Beat Down

�Nyi!�
someone calls out nearby. The plea is desperate and not of any language I
recognize.

In the
dark I am not sure who it is coming from or where. Although the voice seems
familiar, it is obscure to me at the same time. I try to turn towards it but I
feel something constricting around me. Trying to get free, I force myself
upward, not really knowing my confines but feeling like I�m being held down
somehow.

My eyes
groggily open to invite the darkness around me, but unlike in sleep, this
darkness isn�t utter blackness. I can see the evidence of my bedroom, the
different shadows of its familiar surroundings. The fogginess of whatever I was
dreaming dissipates, leaving me with a feeling of disconcerted awareness. I hear
a groan close by, which further rouses me, as I realize someone is laying on me.

�Huh . .
. ?� I utter, looking slightly towards my left to see a thick mane of hair upon
my shoulder and the head it�s attached to resting upon my chest. It takes me a
while to recall why he would be in my bed. I smile lazily. Somehow in the night
we have turned towards each other. And with that thought I realize he is also
holding me tightly.

I watch
him for a while, content that he is with me. But as my vision adjusts more to
the darkness, something doesn�t seem right. He�s shivering. I do not see why the
air-conditioner would make him cold. His body heat is what�s keeping me from
feeling the coolness anyway.

I suppose
then that it was him who woke me . . . or was it part of my dream that I heard
anything? I try to get a hold of reality as I lay my head back and stare up at
the ceiling. But being pretty tired I close my eyes to fall back asleep.

A growl
rips through the silence and my eyes shoot open. His muscular arms tense up and
his hold around me constricts. I look towards him. His fangs are bared and his
brow is furrowed considerably with eyes tightly shut. Sweat beads across his
forehead, which I hadn�t noticed before but it dawns on me that it has been
there.

�Vegeta .
. .� I whisper, hoping he�d let up a bit. Although he isn�t holding me tight
enough to be painful, it is rather discomforting. When another growl rumbles out
of his throat, my concern for him surfaces, and I wonder what sort of phantoms
he is struggling against.

I rest
one of my hands in his hair and I run my fingers through the thickly�yet
soft�jagged strands in an attempt to soothe him. I remember the first time how
his dream affected him and it pains me to think he might be dreaming about a
similar thing. Soon the growling dies down. The expression on his face changes
from angry to painful as he bites his lower lip with a whimper. I can feel his
body tremble as he nuzzles his face into the valley of my breasts.

�Oh,
Vegeta,� I whisper as my heart goes out to him. What could possibly bring him to
such a state?

With one
of my hands brushing through his thick mane, the other caresses the back of his
neck. His trembling doesn�t cease. His tail coils around my wrist; its grasp is
loose, moving tentatively around as though seeking something. I gently encircle
it in my palm, remembering how sensitive it is, but also how he reacted to my
handling of it before. I caress it gently hoping to lessen any distressing
feelings. For a moment it doesn�t seem to be helping, and I all but give up on
that method when his tense body starts to relax. I watch him closely for a
moment to make sure he is truly relaxed. I sigh with relief, satisfied that he
is well, and lie my head back down.

All too
abruptly, though, he tenses up again and whisks his tail out of my grasp. �Nyi!�
He jerks his head up, releasing me from his embrace as his eyes shoot open.
Confusion and fright is written clearly on his face. His breathing seems hitched
as he looks down at me with a still trembling form.

I�m
frozen in place, not knowing what to do or say. Remembering the last time he
reacted to me seeing him after he had a nightmare makes me want to close my eyes
and pretend I hadn�t notice. But I do nothing of the sort since it is too late;
I just wait for him to make the first move and hope he doesn�t act contrariwise
to my presence.

He bows
his head slightly, breathing in deeply, and shuts his eyes tightly. Maybe I
should say something. A moment passes in uncomfortable silence and without being
able to deal with it I break the semi-silence with a hesitant whisper.

�Vegeta .
. . ?�

He looks
at me with fierce eyes and I think perhaps I should have just kept quiet. But
then I see that his eyes aren�t as fierce as they seem; they�re practically
glistening with unshed tears.

�Vegeta .
. . ?� I moan, feeling my heart ache for him again. I reach out to touch his
face. He flinches away from me with a growl, scowling indignantly. I recoil, not
liking the coldness he�s directing at me. �What�s . . . what�s wrong?�

�Nothing,� he says hoarsely. He moves to get off of me, but I quickly grab on to
his wrist, not wanting him to leave me so suddenly.

�But
Vegeta, you�� What am I going to say? You�re crying or you�re going to? Just the
thought of his reaction to that alone makes me curb my tongue.

He gets
up despite my grip on him, which he eases off with no problem. I sit up as he
begins to walk towards the door. �Please . . . ?� I say hastily, not really
knowing why I�m so anxious, �It�s late�aren�t you still tired?�

He turns
to look at me, opening his mouth to respond but then clinches his jaw as his
brow furrows deeply. He turns away again to continue on.

Feeling
rather offended, I utter, �You don�t like me to hide things from you when I�m
upset,� before he can leave the room. He stops then. �Do you think I wouldn�t
mind if you hide things from me?�

�My
business is my own,� he snarls crossly, while he clutches his fists at his
sides.

I get out
of bed not wanting him to walk out on me. The thought of being left alone at the
moment doesn�t settle too well with me. But that isn�t my only reason why I
don�t want him to leave. I would hate for us to become estranged again. Besides
if we are to be mates what good is there in hiding things from each other? Or if
every time something bothers him, he shies away from me? With that thought I try
to bring some normalcy between us. �I don�t think that�s fair, Veg,� I say in a
calm voice, �and I know you don�t either. Just come back to bed. We don�t have
to talk tonight.�

He
doesn�t move, just stands in the now open doorway looking rather tense. The
silhouette of his body that the dim lighting of the hallway emits shows me that
he is shaking faintly; visibly trying to control it�his tail on the other hand
is trembling like a leaf. I am not too sure if he is angry with me or just
troubled about his dream. But he turns around slowly, and I�m able to make out a
contorted expression of pain etched on his face. I feel the sting of tears at
the back of my eyes as the feeling of sympathy washes over me. �My poor
prince�what has happened to you?�

�You
don�t understand. . .� he utters with a clinched jaw, in an attempt to rein in
his emotions. His voice comes out gruffly and I have a sneaking suspicion that
he is mere moments away from biting back a cry.

�Vegeta,
it�s okay. Another time . . .� I say hastily but with what I hope seems like a
soothing voice. If he does not want to speak I won�t attempt to upset him by
asking him to. I step forward wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around
him. He doesn�t give me the chance as he turns away.

�No! I�m
not in the mood for this!� In no time at all he is out of sight.

I rush to
the door futilely. The empty hallway greets me, its dim lighting emphasizing
that I am alone, far from my prince.

I sigh
heavily. �And we were making such progress,� I mutter with disappointment and
shake my head sadly, shutting the door quietly.

I want
nothing more than to get closer to him, to know all about him, but I guess I
know there are certain things he will not feel comfortable telling me. Even if
that is the case, I want to break through his inhibitions and experience him
completely.

I walk
back over to my bed, glimpsing at my reflection in the mirror. I frown seeing
that I�m still in my office clothes, and not liking that at all. But as I recall
why, my head falls.

Yamcha,
that backstabbing prick! It�s his fault I was so distraught in the first place.
My anger towards him has dulled some since Vegeta had been so . . . comforting
before we fell asleep. I shake my head, not wanting to think about any of this.

I begin
to take off my clothes, save for my panties which I keep on, and I toss them
over a chair. I don�t bother to put them in the hamper, which is just inside the
in-suite bathroom. Opening a drawer to find a T-shirt, I rummage through and
take out a light gray one. After putting it on, I climb into bed.

It�s
still warm from when Vegeta and I were sleeping. I turn over to where he laid
and snuggle into his pillow. I know he abandoned it for my breasts but I can
still smell him on it. I smile half-heartedly. I guess sometimes we do need our
space. He�ll probably feel better in the morning . . . or later on in the day .
. . or next week. I whimper but stop myself abruptly, trying to keep myself from
feeling awful. And strangely the awfulness is almost overwhelming. I don�t know
why really, since I should not be so affected by what just happened. The tears
that begin to fall from my eyes surprise me as I start to wipe them away. I look
at my hand, and the thought of somehow feeling Vegeta�s pain comes to mind. But
that is . . . impossible . . . isn�t it?

~~~*~~~***~~~*~~~

I shut
the door to my room with the least amount of noise as possible in my aggravated
state. I lean against it and close my eyes. And in an attempt to steady the
trembling I�ve been oppressed with suddenly, I ball my fist. What the fuck is
wrong with me? I should not be so affected, I tell myself. But it�s not like I
can help it, right?

�Get
your fucking hands off me!�

He
laughed! The fucking lizard laughed! �Oh please, Vegeta. You are too weak to get
the better of me.�

I growled
angrily, knowing the truth of the matter and hating it all the same. But I will
get stronger and when I do, Frieza will be nothing more than a smoldering pile
of blood and guts.

But as
it was . . .

He
came to me suddenly. I hadn�t thought he would since I have been behaving. But
he came too suddenly. He worked me up by playing with my tail. I tried. I truly
did, to make him stop. I fought him as hard as I could. But nothing worked. He
overpowered me like he always did . . . tackled me to the floor. But worst yet
was . . . I could not prevent him from pulling down my spandex. He grasped my .
. . and stroked me and played with me in ways I tried to ignore.

�Stop
it!�

�Don�t
you want to come?�

�No!�
I croaked, trying to suppress my moans.

�Too
bad.�

My
eyes closed and I tried to imagine being back on Vegeta-sei with my father, far,
far away from there. It was no use. My imagination was snuffed out by the
overwhelming sensations. Then I felt . . . something wet and warm around my
cock. Oh my god! I couldn�t believe . . . I cried out. Why was he doing this?
He�s never done this before. It�s always been the other way. �Why! God, why . .
. why does it feel so good?�

�St-st-stop it!�

But he
didn�t. And my hips bucked against him. What�s wrong with me? Why is my body
betraying me like this? I groaned and my fingers dug into the floor. My
breathing came quickly and I felt . . . I felt like I was about to burst. �Oh
god, please help me!�

I snarl
angrily, hating my weakness and him for exploiting it. I try not to think
about it, to conjure up other thoughts in an attempt to ignore the hurt; but it
does not seem to work as my mind relives what I just dreamt. I place two fingers
over the bridge of my nose to steady the headache that is about to come. But the
blanketing darkness of my incubus seems to close in on me to the point that it�s
maddening.

The past
year since his defeat, there seemed to be an awakening. Never did I think about
what happened a lot. I spent too much time quelling the violent urge baited in
me. Destruction of others, meaningless murder, bloody massacres made me feel
powerful, imagining it was him I was doing away with. Unexpectedly here
on earth with nothing to subdue my aggression I have time to actually think. And
I cannot run from it any longer. I can�t just purge the pain away like
the many planets and races I purged from existence. Is this punishment?
Confined to feel what I�ve been forever trying to get rid of?! It constricts
around me just as brutally as it had when he was alive. There is just no escape
. . .

With an
angry growl, I run to the balcony doors and pull them open. The crisp night air
hits me and I dash to the edge, wondering in the back of my mind why, with such
heat during the past weeks, would it be cool so suddenly. I look up at the sky.
Dark clouds hover overhead ominously and the wind begins to blow fiercely. I can
smell a storm on its way, whether it will be heavy or not, doesn�t concern me.

I mean to
dash to the gravity chamber to beat the hurt away with physical pain. It is a
temporary fix. But I don�t know why I stop myself from going.

A few
droplets of rain come down and I stand at the edge not caring that I get wet. I
ball my fists, trembling uncontrollably with the festering crude emotions that
spiral through the center of my being, digging a hole deeper in my soul.

I do not
want to deal with this . . . never wanted to deal with this.

But the
ache pulsates painfully. The thought of giving in, of surrendering, of liking
anything from that evil incarnation, chokes me. I didn�t like it! I couldn�t
control it!

�Slut!�
my father would call me. Surly I am a disgrace! Why try denying it?

Being
immersed in the darkness only hides you from the light. And I�ve been in it so
long that I�ve become it.

The rain
begins to fall down heavily. I clutch my fist tighter, drawing blood. My attempt
to hold my emotions in is useless. Angrily my ki surges around me.

No more!
No more will I let this consume me�

With a
growl, I blast off towards the GR.

~~~*~~~***~~~*~~~

My purple
tank top goes over my shoulders. I straighten it, fixing the spaghetti straps in
place, as I smoother the tight material down over my braless chest, its length
reaching about a few inches above my belly button. I view my appearance in the
mirror as I flip my mass of blue tendrils back and comb my fingers through it.
Going for a messy look, it doesn�t take long to get my hair how I want it. I
take a few steps back to see how my whole ensemble looks. The black leather mini
skirt fits tightly and snuggly, showing off my round butt. I turn around more to
view it better. I smirk and smooth my hands over my hips, appreciating how my
shapely legs look, too.

Perfect.

�This
could have been all yours, Yamcha,�
I think to myself darkly, still feeling resentful. But I forcefully push that
thought aside before my thinking becomes consumed by it. Why throw my energy
into frustrated and hurt feelings? I shouldn�t even bother concerning myself
about that asshole.

I�ve
planned to concentrate on Vegeta and our relationship. Although I haven�t been
able to get a hold of him since he had that nightmare. But I plan to today.

Yep, he
locked himself up in the GR for two whole days. Wouldn�t even look at me, much
less hold a conversation. I would assume he is embarrassed but I have a feeling
he is trying to sort through conflicting emotions. Of what nature? I am not
sure.

It�s
strange but somehow I seem to sense that he is very disturbed, confused, and
undoubtedly angry�but at himself. I don�t know how I am able to sense this but I
can.

What is
also odd is that I really felt myself feeling his pain that night. And it wasn�t
like empathy either. I felt his turmoil, his hurt, his helplessness, and I
cried. I know this is all ridiculous but I don�t know. It makes some sense but
then it completely doesn�t. Maybe it is because I have gotten so close to him
lately. It just irks me that even though he is closer to me than anyone else, he
has a tendency to shut himself away.

I sigh.
These things ought to be expected when dealing with a personality as complex and
as enigmatic as Vegeta. I mean, it should not make me feel bad that he needs to
be alone occasionally�perhaps more often than occasionally. Nonetheless, it
galls me. I wish he�d come to me with his problems. With this new sense of
feeling what he feels, I hate that he is away from me, even if it is just across
the yard in the gravity chamber.

But
enough of this! I will not stand by anymore and allow him to just ignore me.

I slip my
feet into a pair of open-toed, black high heels.

I have
work today but before I go to the lab I do plan on seeing my prince. That is why
I am wearing skimpy clothes. It�s for his benefit only. If he has no intention
of talking to me about his demons, which I know will be the case, then I plan to
entice him into giving into me.

The
kitchen . . .

In an
apron and filled with motherly blitheness, mom is at the stove preparing
breakfast to her heart�s content as usual. Already most of the counters are
occupied with plates overflowing with food. She greets me cheerfully and I try
to return her enthusiasm with my own pseudo impression. Vegeta isn�t around, as
expected, but I am hoping he�d make an appearance. If I have to, I will seduce
him in the GR, mark my words. There is no way he is running away from me
anymore. Pride or not, he will soon learn that with me everything going on with
him matters.

I grab a
peach from the fruit bowl on the island counter and find a clear spot on the
opposite counter to sit on. I cross my legs and bite in.

�Oh dear,
must you sit there?� mom chirps giddily, �off now, I have more plates.�

�I don�t
know why you bother so much�he probably won�t even show up again.�

�He does
come by after everyone is gone.�

Just
about to take another bite I look at her with my jaw slack. �Really? You�ve seen
him?� I reply a bit anxiously. I must seem like an idiot: �you�ve seen him?�, as
if he is some very rare phenomenon that occurs once in a blue moon�all who is
graced with his presence brags about having seen the extraordinary blessing that
is Vegeta.

She
giggles, assuming the manner my thoughts just described. �Well, you don�t think
that all the dinner I made last night vanished into thin air, do you?�

�That�s
right. You did make a lot,� I say, realizing how silly I�ve been. Of course he
came around after I was gone. Maybe I don�t have to bother with him in the GR.
Maybe I can just come by during lunch. I should have been staying up late
lurking in the corners of the kitchen. For sure I would have seen him. Now, that
would be a bit much, Bulma, being vegetable boy�s personal stalker.

�So are
you going to get down from the counter?� mom says holding up a couple of plates.

�You
could put them on the table,� I suggest.

�Oh! Well
I suppose I can,� she says, as if the thought just dawned on her.

It�s a
few minutes of me munching on my peach when dad walks in with Kitty upon his
shoulder.

�Good
morning, itoshii,� he greets my mother as he gives her a kiss on the cheek. She
greets him likewise. ��Morning, Bulma,� he says. And I respond in kind.

At the
table, mom hands dad his morning paper and mug of coffee. �Are you planning to
eat anything else?� she asks me as I finish off my peach.

�Hadn�t
planned on it.�

�Perhaps
you should, Bulma,� dad says, �remember we will be testing today and I doubt
you�d want to be interrupted by your hunger.�

�That�s
right,� I say. Dad and I hate to do testing and be interrupted. I don�t want to
leave my place on the countertop, though, but I jump off it nonetheless and go
over to the other one to score myself a plate of blue berry pancakes. I sit down
next to my father and take the butter and syrup.

�Hon, you
ought to make a late dinner for us, okay?�

�Sure
thing, sugar dumpling.�

�Sugar
dumpling� starts conversation about the Silicon Project we are working on as mom
continues to fix breakfast for Vegeta. It�s not until dad and I are finished
with breakfast and are ready to go out to the lab, that I realize Vegeta really
isn�t planning to make an appearance. As I wipe my hands with a napkin and as
dad asks if I am coming or not, I decide then what I am going to do.

�Sure but
I am going to check up on something first,� I say, finally deciding to see
Vegeta now since I do not plan to go in for lunch.

I walk
out the door behind my father and make a detour towards the backyard.

At the
door of the GR I knock tentatively. But I realize he won�t hear such a soft
sound if he is training in there, so I rap my knuckles against the door harder.
A minute or two goes by and I knock again a bit harder.

�Vegeta?�
I call. Since the inside is sound proof, noise can not be heard outside, but
that doesn�t mean the noise from the outside could not be heard inside. So there
is no reason why he shouldn�t hear me. Unless . . . he wants to ignore me.

I attempt
to knock again, not getting a response. But this time I bang harder with my fist
and feeling peevish I yell out his name for good measure. Soon the outer door
comes down as the inner one slides open, inviting me up its stairs.

Vegeta
stands there, not completely blocking entry. His breathing is heavy, and by the
look of his sweaty form, with several cuts and bruises, I can guess he has been
training for a while�perhaps even before sunrise.

He has a
hand resting against the inside wall, leaning slightly. Although, it doesn�t
seem like he is leaning because of injury or fatigue, despite his wary
expression: brow drawn heavy, eyes that appear to look through me, and lips
pulled into a frown. I guess he isn�t happy to see me. Whether it is because he
doesn�t like to be interrupted during his training or because he wishes to be
aloof since that night, I am uncertain. It could be a mixture of both or
something entirely unrelated. The fact that I am unsure of his mood bothers me
somewhat. But Vegeta isn�t the type of person easily read. That fact initially
frightened me, but as I have gotten a bit closer to him, the idea of never
really knowing much, of having to constantly discover more about this prince
excites me. Nonetheless, I am worried that he might resort to his habitual
detachment, regardless of how our relationship has been changing. I can
understand his need to rely on what he is accustomed to, especially since it
seems he isn�t used to being close with another person. It just galls me all the
same.

�What?�
he asks slowly in an uncertain yet less than solicitous tone.

�Good
morning to you, too,� I murmur, but with no intention of provoking. I walk
inside, not bothering to know if I am welcomed or not. By the look on his face
anyone would assess that I am not. I close the inner door once inside, anyway,
to afford us some privacy since I mean to talk with him for a while.

He looks
at me expectantly and I suppose I�ll have to initiate conversation. I lean
against a wall, mere inches from the doorway, and a few more from him.

�Were you
able to get the rest of the droids?� I say, running my fingers through my hair.

He closes
his eyes then slowly opens them. �I didn�t look for them just yet.�

�Oh . . .
well they�re in my lab.�

He quirks
an eyebrow with half lidded eyes. �How then would I have gotten them?� he asks,
�Don�t you keep your lab locked?�

I push
off the wall and I walk towards him. �You could always blast your way in,� I say
with a smirk.

�I�ll
remember to do that,� he retorts wryly.

I stop a
few inches in front of him, somewhat annoyed that he isn�t being as nice as I
know he can be. �I thought you might have asked dad.� I look at him levelly.
�Is this what we are going to do? Ignore what we know is obvious? You know you
can trust me.�

�What?�
he eyes me with confusion.

�Well you
have before,� I say, �whenever you wanted something from my lab.�

�. . .
oh,� he mutters with a furrowed brow.

Oh? What
kind of response is that? He knows that he can pretty much do whatever he
pleases around here. But it doesn�t seem that he cares either way as he turns
away from me and goes to the control console in the middle of the room.

Well this
conversation is going nowhere fast. I cross my arms in aggravation. He�s acting
like he couldn�t care if I was here or anywhere else. I want to ring his neck or
smack him in the face. I really don�t appreciate this shit especially since I
look so damn good! He is hardly reacting to me!

Instead
of biting his head off with my perturbation I decide to be nice.

�Mom made
breakfast.�

He
doesn�t even turn to look at me, just continues to look at the console. �She
always does,� he replies, as though to say �so what�s your point�.

�Dad and
I can�t eat it all, you know.�

�I�m not
hungry.�

�. . .�

He�s not
hungry? But that�s just absurd. Saiyans are always hungry. Either he is just
saying that because he wants to dismiss me so soon or he really isn�t hungry.
And I find the latter hard to believe.

�. . .
Why?� I ask, not being able to help the concern in my voice.

He turns
around, leaning against the console. �I�m just not.�

I give a
skeptical look but decide to lighten the mood. �That can�t be,� I say, walking
closer to him, �It�s like Goku being a genius�it�s just against everything
natural and normal in the world.�

He raises
an eyebrow, and then chuckles at my joke, looking just divine as his lips form
into a smirk.

I lean
forward, �Ah . . . is that a smile I see?� and point for emphasis.

He sobers
somewhat, trying to appear pissed; but the slight curve at the corner of his
lips tells me otherwise. �What have you come here for?� he asks, knowing that
breakfast and droids are merely icebreakers.

�Can�t I
come to see how my favorite Saiyan prince is doing?�

�Is that
really why you came?�

�More or
less . . . I do happen to find your well being important to me.�

He frowns
and turns around. What gives? I thought he�d be happy to know I care.

�So . . .
how are you feeling?� I almost don�t ask but then realize that would show I am
not really serious.

�You
really want to know?�

�I
wouldn�t ask if I didn�t care,� I say softly.

�Well . .
. I�m feeling a lot of things, most of which are not proper for small talk.�

�Oh . . .
why?�

�Onna,�
he says warningly.

�But
Vegeta,� I still attempt a gentle voice, �I wanna know what�s bothering you.�

He
growls. �You ask too much.�

I frown
despite the fact that I know Vegeta isn�t forthcoming in personality. �Don�t be
flattered that I�m concerned,� I say, offended. �Just shove it right back in my
face, if that will make you feel better.�

He looks
at me and growls, �I never asked for your concern!�

My eyes
grow wide, not so much in surprise than hurt. I thought that he wanted to be
mates. I don�t get him, to just say things like that after how he acted before
when trying to comfort me two days ago. Or days past when he was giving me a
glimpse of his hidden side. I just don�t get it! What does he expect from me?
What does he think it means to be mates for that matter? I turn away from him,
angrier now than I thought I would be at such a comment. �You are a real
asshole,� I mutter.

�I�ve
never claimed to be anything else, Onna. So stop pretending I�m something
different with your infuriating disappointment!�

I whirl
around. �I never said I was disappointed!�

�You
don�t have to. I can see it in your eyes, how your face fell. Don�t tell me
you�re not!�

�I�m not.
You just confuse me. I don�t know what the hell you expect, what you want!�

He snarls
angrily, �You know kami-damn well what I want!�

�No. I
really don�t. You make no sense sometimes!�

�Go
away!�

�What?�

�Just go
away! I don�t want to be bothered with you right now!�

I ball my
fists. �Fine! But don�t bother with me later �cause I surely don�t want to be a
nuisance!�

I storm
over to the door and open it. Once the ramp goes down I�m out on the lawn and
quickly nearing the lab. I�m so angry. Stupid monkey and his fucking bullshit!

Ten
minutes later, though, I knock on the door to the GR with more droids in toe.
And before I can be yelled at by that ass, I turn and walk away.

~~~*~~~***~~~*~~~

I flip
away from an energy blast while firing my own. The droid blocks it with one of
its wrist deflectors and discharges it with added energy towards me. I move
quickly to get out of the way as I also try to maneuver away from the attacks of
two other droids.

I�ve been
more defensive in tactics than usual, blocking and evading, rarely attacking. It
angers me, mainly because I cannot gain control over the situation enough to be
offensive. The logical approach would be to end this session to take a break and
start over since I am not progressing much. But my pride tells me that this
shouldn�t be an issue, that I should not be having any problem, and it is
imperative that I get my bearings and act like the warrior prince that I am!

I have
been working myself nonstop since early morning�minus the interruption from Onna�and
exhaustion would be a factor as to why I am not being as aggressive in my
training as I should be. But the more accurate assessment would be that I lack
concentration. My mind is a muddled mess and I don�t want to even sort it out.
But the many wayward thoughts floating around beg me to gain control of them, to
sort them out and make sense of the hellhole that is my psyche.

I fall to
the floor after being hit by two simultaneous energy blasts. I try getting up
but another blast hits me. I roll over as another comes toward me, succeeding in
giving myself some respite. I take a breath and dash up next to the ceiling. I
discharge my own blast.

For the
past couple of days I�ve been trying to gain control over myself. My emotions,
they won�t quit, pulling me in all directions. But this is nothing new. The only
solace is when I�ve beaten myself to the point I can no longer stand, too
fatigued to think, and too drained to feel, that I fall into oblivion.
Unconsciousness seems like my only reprieve but it is most unfortunate that I
cannot revel in the lack of feeling.

My
frustrations, however, have stretched beyond that of my nightmare. Along with my
chaotic maelstrom of emotions, I could feel her: the onna. Oddly, I can feel her
emotions and like mine they haven�t been composed either. She�s been in
turmoil�confused, angry, and concerned. Sometimes I can feel that it is
projected at me and at other times it is projected elsewhere.

Peculiar
still, is that I can sense anything from her at all!

I�m
knocked against the wall. I push off quickly before the droids can surround me,
glad that the onna�even though she was pissed at me�took time out to get the
droids from her lab. Training with these machines is far better than shadow
boxing with my phantom nemesis, Kakkarot. My thoughts are quickly dashed aside
as the droids proceed to engage �hand-to-hand� combat with me.

She
pushed off the wall and walked towards me with that delectable outfit. Something
told me that she wanted to entice me. And I was enticed. �You could always blast
your way in,� she said with a smirk.

�I�ll
remember to do that,� I retorted dryly.

She
stopped a few inches in front of me, her scent breaching my defenses. So sweet.
By her expression I knew she was annoyed, perhaps not liking my attitude. But I
was in no mood to be sociable or at least to be nice. I was in a foul mood and
really couldn�t care to be considerate. It was just my luck she looked sexy with
those pouting lips and deep blue eyes.

�I
thought you might have asked dad,� she said by way of explanation. And I was
about to respond when she also said,
�Is this
what we are going to do? Ignore what we know is obvious? You know you can trust
me.�

I was
too stunned, hearing it from her since her lips didn�t move then. �What?� I said
in confusion.

�Well
you have before,� she stated the obvious, �whenever you wanted something from my
lab.�

�. . .
oh,� I muttered, furrowing my brow and suspecting she had no idea what she just
did.

I fall
into something hard, and when it hits against the wall I realize it�s a droid.
Damn, that smarts! I scramble up as fast as I can, as the other droids attack
with energy blasts. I cross my arms in front of my face and flare my ki to whirl
around me until I�m shielded from the attack. Their assault does not abate and
the droid that fell into the wall gets up to join the fray. I fall to my knees
to my great surprise. My ki fluctuates rapidly and I realize I need to replenish
my energy. Shit! I should have had breakfast. The droids, having no clue as to
my state, continue on with their barrage of blasts.

�End
attack mode 5!� I yell, just as my ki shield diffuses.

�Ending
attack mode 5,� the computer responds in its monotonous voice. One stray blast
hits me just as the computer�s operation takes effect and I fall backwards.

On my
back with my arms and legs sprawled out and trying to catch my breath, I allow
myself to just lie here.

Could it
be? Is it possible that I am bonding with the onna? I do not know but the
thought of bonding with her doesn�t settle too well with me even if I want to
mate her. I do not need that sort of attachment�it�s too . . . binding. And I
doubt she would want it as well . . . to see the hell inside of me.

�You
don�t have to. I can see it in your eyes, how your face fell. Don�t tell me
you�re not!�

�I�m
not. You just confuse me. I don�t know what the hell you expect, what you want!�

I
snarled angrily, �You know kami-damn well what I want!�

�No. I
really don�t. You make no sense sometimes!�

The stray
thought comes out of nowhere but the effect is all the same as most of the
thoughts running rampant in my head are.

Stupid
bitch! She knows well enough what I want! I growl. What kind of game is she
playing at? Does she want me to confess that I love her? Her obsession with love
is aggravating! She will just have to learn that I cannot love and accept that!

�Love
isn�t transient. . . It�s part and parcel . . . The fact that too many people
don�t realize that is the reason why love dies so early . . . I guess, I�m just
beginning to realize, Vegeta, and I won�t make the same mistake.�

�Love
really is a crock of shit!�

Goddamn
her! Why did I act so stupidly? Now she probably thinks that I�m being
hypocritical with how I acted then and how I�ve acted just this morning.

This is
absurd!

Whoever
heard of a Saiyajin no Ouji falling in love? It doesn�t exist! And no matter how
desperately she wants it, I cannot be anything but myself. I am not weak! I am
nothing like that asshole of a boyfriend she had! I am most certainly not like
Kakkarot! Damn her! She will be my mate without love!

�She will
be mine!�

�But
that is not what is really bothering you, is it, Vegeta? The fact of being a
disappointment to her, your mate, is what is really bothering you. You�ve
already been one to your father, already shown your inadequacy toward Frieza,
your weakness in comparison to Kakkarot, a third class nobody who you should be
stronger than. Disappointment, yes. Now being a mate to a human woman, you will
show just how much you lack in affection. What will your mother think?�

I growl
audibly and ball my fists, attempting to calm the rage inside of me. I do not
need this now, don�t need any of it! But I see there is no escaping reality.

�I am my
father�s son,� I say aloud as I sit up, �I can be just as good to my mate, if
not better. A disappointment to him? Humph! He was one to me! Couldn�t even fair
well against that pasty face abomination! At least I�ve lasted as long as I
have. And Kakkarot . . . I will beat him soon enough!�

I look at
the droids that stand stationary. I need to go full throttle with my training.
The violence in my blood, my frustration, and overall aggravation calls for it.
However, I must replenish my strength first. I cannot get anywhere with my
childish tendencies of stubbornness if I hope to succeed. I must be meticulous
and controlled. I cannot allow my emotions to pull me in every which way. I am
the Saiyajin no Ouji�I do not train haphazardly.

I take a
deep, cleansing breath, in an attempt to dispel all detrimental thoughts and
feelings.

I lie
back down.

Just a
few minutes of rest . . .

�Good
afternoon, Vegeta-chan,� is the first thing I hear once I walk into the kitchen
via the back door. Blondy, of course. Her sickening sweet mood always irritates
me and today it pisses me off me even more. I grumble to myself and sit down at
the table, not even bothering to acknowledge her. I watch her from the corner of
my eye as she turns away from the stove.

�What�s
wrong, Vegeta-chan?� she asks, her voice forgoing its usual cheerfulness for
concern. I don�t know why I bother but I spare her a glance. She looks at me
with a curious expression.

�I�m
hungry.�

�Oh, of
course you are!� she responds with her usual vivacity. �You missed breakfast,
but I saved most of it for you.� She goes to the island counter, unwraps some
food, and brings them over to me. �Bulma and Sugar Dumpling won�t be joining us
since they will be stuck in the lab for the rest of the day. So I guess it will
just be you and me.� She giggles being rather delighted at the prospect.

I begin
to dig in as she gets some more plates and sits down opposite me. She starts
talking about her day and the many intriguing things a housewife gets to do. And
as I can�t help but hear her, I wonder to myself why the fuck would a warrior
prince care about gardening? Surely she must know she is only talking to
herself.

�Do you
honestly think that a warrior such as myself would be interested in gardening?�
I ask, fed up with her babbling and disregarding that she would not comprehend
my perturbation.

She looks
at me with wide eyes that are as blue as Bulma�s. �Oh! How silly of me!� she
giggles. �What would you prefer to talk about?�

A bit
surprised by her response, I gauge her for a moment but then retort with,
�Nothing.� And I watch her still as she smiles, wondering if in fact she�d shut
up by request. The idea is a pleasant one but I realize it is farfetched just as
she seems ready to continue her talking. So with a sour smirk and a quirked
eyebrow, I add as I lean close, �But I suppose that would be out of the
question?�

She
giggles again and places a hand over her mouth. �Oh Veggie-chan!�

I look at
her with my usual discontent but I am as puzzled as hell about what to think.
Just before I can begin to find out, someone knocks on the door.

�Oh! I
wonder who that could be,� she says excitedly and gets up.

I
continue to eat, not bothering to turn around and see who it could be. But once
I hear, �Hello, Mrs. Briefs,� I bristle with agitation and my tail tightens
around my waist. The foremost question in my mind, though, is why the hell the
idiot is masking his ki.

I turn to
look at the scarred-faced warrior, who Blondie is now assaulting with her
irritating trivialities. The asinine fuck is standing in a navy blue suit and
matching tie with a bouquet of red roses in hand. I narrow my eyes at him as I
realize just what it is he came here for. He�s done it before . . . too many
times, to apologize to Bulma after they had a huge fight. And she would always
take him back.

I ball my
fist and growl lowly. There is no way in hell he�s going to take my woman!

�But
after the way you�ve treated her, why would she want you anyway?�

The stray
thought makes me angry, not only at the fornicating weakling but also at Bulma
for wanting so much; but then at myself, for if I hadn�t been so mean, she might
not have been so angry. Nevertheless, it doesn�t matter; the onna wants me
regardless.

I narrow
my eyes even more. Still, it would do me good to get rid of this lowlife. I�ll
see to it that he is no longer a concern. Besides I owe it on my woman�s honor
to avenge his misdeeds. I chuckle inwardly at the half hazard justification,
knowing full well my bloodlust needs satisfying.

�Umm, do
you know where Bulma is?� the weakling fornicator asks, finally able to get a
word in edgewise with the blonde.

�Oh, well
she�s��

�In the
gravity room,� I speak up before Blondie can say anything else. I stand up and
walk over to him. Bulma�s mother looks at me quizzically, perhaps not sure if
she is mistaken or if I am lying. I would think it is the former since she isn�t
too quick about most things. She does nothing in objection, though, as I add,
�The damn thing broke again.�

�Alright,
great�I mean that she�s there�I really need to talk to her,� he says nervously,
but he tries not to be too obvious in his uneasiness as he takes a step further
into the room.

I can
tell he is still afraid of me since our last encounter and that thought makes me
want to smile maliciously. But I hold back and just smirk with the least amount
of venom as possible. The pathetic warrior warms up to that and smiles back,
albeit still with anxiety. The thought of replacing that smile on his face with
the picture of agony makes my blood rush with anticipation.

�You know
. . . she doesn�t want to be bothered,� I say, �but I�m sure she wouldn�t mind
the interruption. It has been a few hours since she�s been working in
there. She could use the break, I suppose.�

Lying
never came easy to me. Most Saiyajin could not do it to save their skin. But
having to live such an existence where my pride had to be disregarded on
numerous occasions, made it imperative that I learn how to lie. What galls me
though is how this ass does it for such sleazy reasons. Of all the times Bulma
had been deceived . . . and then she�d take him back . . . how he could just
claim her one night and then disregard her the next.

I feel
myself getting agitated over the thought but I calm myself and lower my rising
ki. I don�t want him to get alarmed too soon. This deception will be sweetest if
I pull it off well.

�Right,�
he agrees, still nervous but nonetheless happy with that disgusting smile of
his. How many times has she fallen for that look?

I should
give him a few more scars on his face to complete the hideous montage.

�I was
going to check on her progress anyway,� I say walking to the door and passing by
him on my way out. It�s a few seconds before I hear him begin to follow behind
me. I spare him a glance over my shoulder and take in his obvious anxiety. He�s
clutching the bouquet of roses in a shaking hand, and looking down at the other,
which he�s making odd gestures with as he mumbles to himself. Perhaps rehearsing
the shit he means to say to Bulma. Little does the fucker know what I have in
store for him . . .

�Why so
nervous?� I ask in affectation of fleeting concern.

He jerks
his head up to look at me, quite disoriented it seems. �Uh . . . we had a tiff a
few days ago.�

I turn
away abruptly not being able to hide the perturbation upon my features. You
lying mother-fucking asshole! A tiff?! Ha! Don�t make me laugh!

Once we
get to the GR I press in the code on the keypad and the door slides
open�immediately the lights turn on and the main power source whirls to life. I
almost growl that I left all the power off�surly he would see this is a ruse.
But as I walk inside, I hear his footsteps advancing behind me.

�Bulma?�
he calls once he is inside, walking past me.

I close
the door, very glad he is too preoccupied with himself to know what I am about.
No one will be able to hear what goes on in here. I silently praise my onna�s
ingenuity�she thinks of everything. I smirk in a sinister way and lock the door
with the key code. I turn around and lean against it with crossed arms.

�Bulma?�
he calls again, walking further into the room, �hmmm . . . I wonder where she
could be.�

�She�s
not here,� I say calmly.

�What?�

�I said
she�s not here. If you bothered to sense her ki you�d know that. But as they
say, an asshole is born every day.�

�Well you
told me that she was,� he says with incredulous annoyance, �What gives?�

My smirk
becomes more menacing by the second. Before he knows it my fist smashes into his
gut, successfully knocking the wind out of him. He doubles over with bulging
eyes, leaning onto me.

�I guess
one good deception deserves another, eh weakling fornicator?� I remove my fist
from his rather soft and pliable stomach, and he slumps to the floor, the
bouquet along with him.

�W-what .
. . are you t-talking about?�

�Don�t
act stupid, playboy,� I say coldly, attempting not to bring all my anger to the
foreground just yet. I�ve been itching for a fight for the past few days. I know
this will hardly suffice but my blood screams for violence to inflict on
another. I want to enjoy this, to make it worth my while.

I will
take it slow.

He looks
up at me with eyes still wide and very fearful. �I . . . don�t know what you�re
talking about . . .� His eyes are shifty as if he is uncertain of something,
perhaps of the fact that I know what he did to my onna. Nonetheless, his ki
hikes up in a defensive manner; it isn�t enough to seem like an affront�maybe
not wanting to provoke.

That is
the least of my concern as I look down at him and revel in the fact that he is
on his knees at my feet, clutching his stomach with one hand. Oh, how I relish
the thought and the sight of such things. I have had many people on their knees
before me, weak and pleading, hoping that I would not be cruel. I wasn�t so weak
then, was I Frieza? I could have people wailing in pain and anguish, praying to
their gods to spare their lives too, you fuck!

I growl
audibly as if to perish the thought. But my mind won�t let it go. Knowing that I
wasn�t spared, never shown compassion�so why be sympathetic to others?
Justifiable fire burns through my veins but before I can allow the rage to
consume me, I control it with the prospect of my goal. I do not want him
dead�just want him to suffer. And Kami help him if I lose it.

I smirk
at the thought. Bulma should be pleased.

�Is it
really that easy to forget about Bulma when you�re fucking someone else?� I
sneer down at the weakling.

His eyes
grow wider with fear and shock. �What? No! I love her.�

Love her?
How can he expect anyone to believe he cared after the shit he pulled? After he
dishonored his mate? No, not mate, but lover nonetheless.

�Liar!� I
knee him in the face.

He cries
out and lands on his back. He tries getting up then. His ki rises rapidly but it
peaks just shy of my ki level�in defense. Such a coward! He knows he has wronged
her! If he felt any different he would defend what he had with her�not attempt
to be less provoking. But then again his cowardice shows he would be unwilling
to make such a stake�even for his woman�she would not be worth the effort. He�d
rather tuck tail and run!

�But I
do!� he croaks.

�Shut up!
You second rate piece of shit! You thought you could get away with it didn�t
you? You thought that you could also come back, waltzing in with your flowers
and apologies and make her yours again? Well you won�t!�

I look
down at the discarded bouquet and step on the bright red roses. The crushed
feeling of the petals beneath my boot is gratifying as I smear them across the
floor.

The
weakling gets up then, looking rather peevish as he powers up more and gets into
a defensive stance.

�Ah! So
now you want to fight!� I exclaim with amusement. This is going to be more
enjoyable than I�d hoped.

He
blanches.

I grin
barbarously as my eyes scrutinize his every jittery movement. Such a recreant.

�What the
fuck does it matter to you? Huh?� his voice is shaky. �Bulma isn�t your concern.
She is my girlfriend.�

�That�s
where you�re wrong, human,� I snarl, �She is mine.� I don�t even give him
the chance to attack as I do it instead.

He falls
against the wall and slumps to the floor, coughing up blood.

�Pathetic
loser!� I yell as I walk over towards him ominously. With each passing step the
weakling cringes.

�I can�t
. . . believe. I thought that she wasn�t like that with all her talk of
faithfulness . . .� he murmurs in disbelief, �I never thought that she would
have a thing with you . . . after all we�ve been through.�

�You
better believe it,� I say maliciously. Of course the onna would prefer me over
this recreant! �You�re not good enough for her!�

He
shakily gets up in a fighting position. �What?� his voice falters with fear�but
he tries to be brave, �And you think you are?�

�I know I
am. But you, I will have to teach you a lesson about where deceiving my onna
will get you.� The stupid ass stays near the wall not even attempting to
advance, which of course is a big mistake.

I�m upon
him instantly, giving him a beat down like he�s never had. He attempts to block
my assault, but my superior speed makes his efforts futile. Even when he manages
to block a few of my punches, the force behind them is painfully agonizing. He
groans and grunts�screaming sporadically when I breach his faulty defenses. I
chuckle when he wails loudly.

I let up
on him, standing back to look upon my soon to be masterpiece on such a lumpy
canvas. He slumps down to the floor, no longer being held up by my flying fist.
Blood trickles from his mouth, from his broken nose when I kneed him earlier,
crusted with dry blood but flowing anew. Over his right eye, a gash, leaking of
course. His hair is messy and matted at his hair line where more blood flows.
His chic suit is ripped in places, slightly burned where I put the heat of my ki
behind several punches. He coughs up more blood and it falls onto his tie and
white shirt.

Aren�t I
the artist? But the mixture of red just isn�t enough.

�Pathetic
human!� I snarl.

He
mutters something under his breath with a strained voice. �Y-You won�t get . . .
away w-with t-this.� He painfully leans forward, clutching his stomach.

I laugh
outright and grab him by the back of his head, my fingers dig into his hair to
haul him up. �Oh really? I doubt that!� I fling him across the room.

His
screeching is cut short as he falls to the floor with a loud thud, groaning
painfully. I blast the floor an inch away from him. He flies up from the impact.
I blast off after him and elbow him in the side, gaining more height with him.
Then I use a roundhouse kick. He drops to the floor like a rock.

I drop
down before him with a maniacal laugher. On his belly, he tries to inch away
from me, screaming with dire horror for anyone. I laugh louder.

�Do you
actually think anyone can hear you? Don�t be stupid! The onna has built this
training room to be sound proof. But scream if you wish�it�s my favorite tune.�

His mouth
is agape.

I grab
him by his ankles and swing him around. He hits the wall. More howls of pain. I
chuckle. Piece of lowly garbage! I close the distance between us and am upon him
with another violent assault. The feral blood pumping through my veins
invigorates me. The rage is there at the brink of my control. I struggle to hold
it at bay. Is it because of the onna? Because of Kakkarot? I am not all
together sure, nor do I truly care.

He cries
out after a swift left kick to his arm�the delightful sound of breaking bone.

My eyes
narrow to gauge him as he pushes back against the wall further from me. His eyes
are shut tight, teeth gritted, face scrunched up in agony. A smirk tugs at the
corner of my lips. I slowly walk closer to my victim. I kneel down before him.
He tenses up, not opening his eyes. Mine bear into him, willing him to look at
me. The coward! �Open your eyes to your fate, dipshit!�

�G-Goku .
. . will get y-you . . . f-for this,� he says through clinched teeth. One eye
opens to look at me. He flinches at how close I am to him, with wide and
frightened eyes.

My smirk
becomes twisted with sadistic amusement. The baka noticeably shrinks away�tries
to at least.

�No. He
won�t,� I simply state in a velvety voice, the calmness of it heightens his
fright. He exudes it completely. I cup the side of his face in an almost gentle
manner, making him look me in the eyes.

He
swallows hard and nods his head once. I pat him on the cheek as if pleased with
him, but then I smack him hard. He falls with a scream and a thud.

I grab
him by his collar and stand up. At the door, I punch in the code to unlock it.
Once it opens, I fly up into the sky with the recreant by the gullet. I move up
high until the main compound seems like the size of a dinner plate. I raise the
weakling to my eye level.

�Bulma is
off limits.�

He nods.

I growl,
my grip tightens. �Got that?!�

�Yes,� he
yelps.

�Good.�

I toss
him up in the air. He shrieks. Once gravity catches up to him, I spin kick him
violently. His howl of pain dwindles as he becomes a distant speck in the sky.

I smirk
with satisfaction, �Good riddance,� and drift back down towards the ground
gracefully.

Bulma is
now completely mine.

With that
thought, I float over to the water hose where Blondy tends to her garden. I turn
it on and wash the blood from my gloves. Not knowing if I have splattered blood
anywhere on me I hold the hose over me and wash myself as thoroughly as
possible. Once I am as clean as I am going to get, I flare my ki to dry off. The
satisfied smirk upon my face doesn�t leave, not even when I go back inside to
finish eating and meet the ditz again.

�Was
Yamcha able to talk to Bulma?�

�No, she
didn�t want anything to do with him.�

�Really?�
she asks, looking at me with what I can guess is actually scrutiny.

�Of
course. Would you want to talk with someone who cheated on you for two months,
probably more?�

�What?�

�She
didn�t tell you?�

�No, is
she all right?�

�She is
just fine,� I say with a smirk.

At least
she will be once I claim her . . .

~~~*~~~***~~~*~~~

Author�s Note:
itoshii: beloved; darling
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Stupid Monkey