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A Saiyan For All Seasons	By : Lynnember Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 6044 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
A Saiyan For All Seasons

Chapter Two

Beauty

Disclaimer: I�m
an obsessive compulsive Vegeta fan, unfortunately that doesn�t make me Akira
Toriyama.

****************************************************

The heat and glare of the summer months had quickly turned
into the rusty glow of autumn. The days were getting shorter and a chill was
starting to creep into the air around the grounds of the Capsule Corporation.
It has to be said that the descent into autumn didn�t affect the residents
much. There was too much work to be done for them to pay attention to the
seasons. Bulma and her father were at the office most days as usual, it was
more important recently due to Mr. Briefs impending retirement. Next summer the
entire company would be the sole responsibility of his daughter, and the
demands such a step made were felt heavily by both of them.

Bulma was happy for this. It was an event she had been
looking forward to for several years and it was almost complete. Just a couple
more months and everything would be made over to her. Her father�s involvement
would be limited to overseeing her progress as he took less and less work on.
The summer would signal the official transfer. At the moment all their combined
efforts were spent overhauling the company and taking stock so Bulma could
start a new era in Capsule Corporation�s history.

During this Bulma had little time for anything else. Her
working week had suddenly become almost the entire seven days. The only time
she managed to get to herself were the Saturday evening barbeques because even
the daytime was devoted to office and laboratory duties. As a result all
personal matters naturally had to take a backseat. Not that she had much of a
private life anymore. Becoming a workaholic had its limitations, the most
noticeable and sad was her lack of time for friends.

Her friendship with Yamcha was one of the worst-hit areas.
His training days had become fortnightly very quickly into the transfer, and
she was beginning to see less and less of him as the months progressed. It was
painful to see as much, especially when she had made the conscious effort of
leaving her Saturday evening schedules free just to see him. There was no
company she felt as comfortable with than Yamcha�s.

Still she was plodding on as usual and was grateful for the
time they had spent apart when he had been in Otherworld. Very quickly she had
found herself falling back into the old routine, and as much as his growing
absence upset her, she was too strong to let it get to her. Perhaps she could
tolerate it a little easier now because although there was decline in one
quarter; there was steady progress in another.

Vegeta.

Now she couldn�t say there had been any groundbreaking steps
made forward in that direction, but there were, without a shadow of a doubt,
inroads being made. The first real conversation she had shared with him in the
summer, it turned out, was to be the first of many. Nothing really important
was divulged in these meetings, but they at least managed to build into
something more than snapped orders and automatic compliance.

It was weird because she�d stuck to her guns and did not
willingly pursue mattmatter as she had in the early months. Oh yes � Vegeta was
still demanding; he was still arrogant, aloof and proud, but the rare
conversations with him seemed to make it a little less offensive.

Vegeta never told her why he wished her to move that
evening, but Bulma wasn�t the kind of person to give up just because all the
answers didn�t immediately present themselves. The curiosity had been
unbearable and prompted a little detective work. Her bedroom was directly above
the den and spending a few balmy nights on the balcony had done the trick.
She�d found out very quickly why Vegeta didn�t want her there. It was for no
other reason than because he seemed to like the spot better for himself.

She had known (through being friends with Goku) Saiyans
tended to have more feral instincts than the average human. Take fighting as an
example. It was a primitive and natural response all humans were gifted with,
but evolution and civilization had tamed the need to fight into a recreational
habit, rather than a means of survival. By comparison the Saiyan race had not
altered, and although they had become very technologically advanced, the
survival instincts were still just as sharp as ever. The need to be the best,
the wish to conquer, the desire to fight was all-consuming for them, and in one
instance, Vegeta displayed a very strong territorial nature.

His gravity room was one such example. As soon as her father
had finished building the damn machine, Vegeta had made it very clear that only
two people other than himself wereowedowed to enter it at any time. Her father
was the first, and on the odd chance he wasn�t available, Bulma had somehow
found herself filling in as the emergency second. Not that she had ever had the
opportunity to invade his domain, (the gravity room was all her father�s
brilliant work and he was protective of his inventions) but he had at least
made the concession to include her - a concession that gave her an inexplicable
feeling of honour.

&s]>

The patch of grass outside the patio and the unmarred view
of the sky it afforded, seemed to be yet such another place. She would see him
there late at night when he thought all the residents were asleep, prowling the
spot as though he were trying to figure out the complexities of the universe.
His scowl would be relaxed slightly and his mind lost to thought. It had
intrigued her to no end, wonderin jus just what direction his thoughts were
being spun, but she knew there was no point in asking. Instead she just let him
be, figuring on that point at least, obstinacy would be useless.

It didn�t mean, however, she had forgotten her pledge
regarding him. She never outright addressed him when he entered a room, instead
only talking if he made the first initiation. Of course, most of the time she
was disappointed, but in the long run she profited from the change in tactics.
Vegeta was a bizarre man. She didn�t know anyone else with a personality like
that - who almost seemed to naturally become more open with you the less
attention you paid.

Still, she didn�t want to knock the situation. She�d spent
six months trying to get him to open up with minimal success and now, after
only two months of not trying, she was making reasonable headway.

It was now freefalling into night. Bulma had been up at six
that morning, in the office by seven and more than fourteen hours had passed
since then. She�d managed to break away from her duties for only half an hour
to get a sandwich before she was called back to crawl under the piles of
paperwork once again. Her stomach was now almost growling in time with the
minute hand, and although she still had ten files to revise, for today at
least, she had to admit defeat.

Grabbing her coat, she left the office for the short walk
across the grounds to her family home.

Missing the usual eating hours didn�t matter. Her mum was
used to living with irregular eating patterns and made sure everyone ate well.
If any of the family missed a main meal then it was sealed up in Tupperware,
and ready to reheat the moment they returned. Tonight, Bulma was the more
thankful for such a step. She really didn�t feel like anything other than
eating, watching a little television, and then bed. The television wasn�t
really high on her priorities, but she knew if she tried to sleep straight away
her mind would be too busy with work to relax properly.

Easily finding the security locks on the main building,
Bulma automatically bypassed them, despite the lack of light. Kicking her shoes
off in the hall and laying her handbag on the side, she padded softly into the
main kitchen. It smelled delicious and tempted her towards the microwave in
curiosity as tat cat culinary treats awaited her.

There was a post-it-note stuck to the door. Bulma plucked it
off and read as she pulled a packet of cigarettes from her pocket, hoping to
satiate her hunger enough during the time it took for the food to cook. Rolling
her eyes she took a quick glance out of the kitchen window. The note had been
for her, simply stating Vegeta hadn�t eaten with the family and if she could
lure him out of training - to make sure he had plenty to fill his plate. Or as
her mother�s hand scribbled, �We mustn�t let the poor prince starve.�

�Well,� she said to herself, seeing no lights on outside,
�he�s definitely not training.�

Setting the timer on the microwave and letting it beep into
activity, Bulma left the kitchen to the only other plhe mhe might be, if indeed
he was still on her father�s grounds. The den light was switched off, but the
chill blowing into the room from the open doors was all Bulma needed to know.
Making a point not to call out his name, she simply tugged the thin material of
her jacket around her a little more snugly and wandered onto the patio.

He didn�t greet her arrival, even when she sat down on the
decking, but as she lit a cigarette, and the sound of the flints echoed around
the compound, he tilted his head in a slim acknowledgement of her presence.

�How long?� he demanded at last.

�A few minutes,� she replied, letting the smoke escape with
her words.

He nodded curtly, standing, staring into nothing, with his arms
folded and legs slightlyrt. rt. It gave his figure a form of authoritative
grace. His body really was something else. She hadn�t really paid it much
attention before. She was used to having fighters around. Bulging biceps and
defined abs were nothing extraordinary, but now, as she looked more closely,
she had to admit there was something interesting about Vegeta�s muscle tone.

Shorter men with such compact muscle structure rarely kept
such a slender and agile profile, but Vegeta did. Especially the way his back
muscles curved into a trim waist and connected so beautifully with such
powerful legs. It really was something she had never seen before; his lack of
height actually complimented his figure. The fact he was shirtless didn�t do
him any disservice either and looked good with his usual royal blue trousers.

�Why are you staring?�

<
<
Bulma blushed a little. She didn�t realize her attention had
been that noticeable.

�I�m sorry. I didn�t
mean to be rude.�

Vegeta uncrossed one arm, flexing his fingers as though dyindying the strength held in them. Cocking his head to the side he said, �I
didn�t ask for an apology, Woman. I asked for an explanation. Try again.�

She chuckled slightly to hide her embarrassment and leaned
back on her hands to look up at the stars. �You don�t want to know.�

�I asked, didn�t I?�

Bulma tilted her head to look at him. His eyes were fixed on
her as she caught them, and then they drifted slowly over her body. That damned
smirk was curled majestically on his lips. She knew there was no way around the
truth. He wouldn�t tolerate lies. Deceit, she had learned very quickly, got her
nowhere.

She said it frankly, no hint of her previous embarrassment
to give it false valuesan san style="mso-spacerun: yes">

�Being a scientist and around fighters for most of my life,
it�s an area I am something of an expert in,� she continued, proudly flicking her
hair. �In theory you should be a lot wider.�

�You should know by now that I am the exception to most
rules,� he drawled. �No creature can compare to a Saiyan elite, especially one
of royal blood.�

�Perhaps,� she said. With a coy smile she added, �Hey! Maybe
you�ll let me study your physiology at some point?�

He stared at her a moment inck ack and then snorted. �Not
likel/p> /p>

She giggled. �I didn�t think so.�

The wind whistled through the palms, licked around the buildings
and crept under Bulma�s skin. She shivered slightly and stood up.

Vegeta frowned at her. �Cold?�

She nodded.

�Are all earth women as weak as you?�

�Not all,� she chuckled, �but most are, yes.�

�And you don�t know how to manipulate ki?�

She shook her head.

�Bizarre!� he said. �I have never socialized with ki-less
creatures before.�

�And what do you make of us so far?�

He was about to reply, but Bulma realized her mistake.

�Nuh-uh!� she interrupted. �No macho bullshit okay? There�s
no one to show off for, no damage done to your ego if you say what you really
think. I didn�t lie to you. Now I want an honest answer.�

His brow creased a moment as he thought over his rep

�,� h,� he said, �I have not had the opportunity to meet
many of your race. Some of the fighters you call friends are impressive for
such a weak species in general, but the majority of your kind are intolerable
to me. Some of the females, though,� he said, throwing those eyes over her once
again, �are not altogether objectionable.�

Bulma closed her eyes in acquiescence. �Praise indeed.�

He snorted and looked away.

�So,� she said, crouching to stub out her cigarette on the
leaf-littered ground, and throwing it across the lawn, �I�ve told you what I think
of your body, it�s only fair for you to return the favour.� She stood and
raised her arms above her head, letting her newly straightened hair tumble
down. �Don�t you think I�m a beautiful woman?�

He didn�t reply, but simply let his eyes fall over her. His
stare was different yet again. Rather than being cold or playful, it was
serious and curious at the same time and although not emitting heat, it somehow
managed to make her feel hot.

Then the heat was gone, snatched away with his gaze.

�Well?�

�Pps,�ps,� he said, �though I�d say you were more exotic
than beautiful.�

�Hmm? Exotic?� Bulma turned the phrase over in her head a
few times, wondering what to make of it. �Is that a good thing or a bad?�

He looked at her pointedly - his eyes narrowing. �Both.�

She felt a little disappointed. No man had called her looks
anything less than stunning, and here was Vegeta, in his very own cuttingly
honest way, saying that maybe she didn�t look perfect.

He laughed cruelly into the darkness. �It seems I�ve hit a
nerve. What�s the matter, Woman? Did you honestly think I would flatter you
into something you�re not?�

�No,� she pouted, �No, I didn�t. You enjoy being an arsehole
too much, right?�

�Right,� he agreed.

�Why exotic?� she urged, actually starting to like the word.
It was definitely different from beautiful. It captivated the mind, produced
images of Amazonian warriors - or something like that.

�Your colouring is odd,� he stated impassively. �It is
something I have not come across before.�

�Odd� exotic�� she sighed. �but not beautiful eh? A girl
could get offended.�

�I was not aiming to offend, but beauty is relative, Woman.
You�re no Saiyan.�

�I see,� she said, �and Saiyan women are the benchmark of
beauty for you are they?�

�As I remember them?� he said. �Yes.�

His arms refolded and his posture became more on guard.

�But there are no Saiyan women left � right?�

�Correct,� he answered, with a slight growl.

�So excluding Saiyan women or even keeping them in mind,
what would you look for in a wife?�

Bulma almost coughed with the effort of trying to keep a
straight face. Vegeta was less able. He stared at her in shock for severainutinutes, before growling out a low, �Vulgar woman!�

�What!� she screeched. �I am not vulgar!�

�No, you just come straight out and ask me what kind of
woman I would like to bed. Nothing vulgar in that is there?� he snarled.

Bulma was shocked for a moment, until she realized her
mistake, or rather his unfamiliarity with her culture.

She laughed, shaking her head. �I didn�t mean it like that,
Vegeta. I was just asking what kind of woman you could see yourself settling
down with. You know, starting a family with - that kind of thing.�

She was still laughing even as she spoke. There was
something totally bizarre at the thought of Vegeta settling down, falling in
love, and raising a family. It would never happen! Imagining him changing
diapers or doing anything even remotely romantic was just insane! He trained
non-stop, he�d probably never even looked at a woman in that way before.

She turned to look at him, and was startled to see he was
actually thinking on it seriously.

�Wife is an alien term to me,� he said eventually, �but,� he
flashed her a wicked smirk. �I have coupled with many women. Some of them have been
beautiful, some strong, and some� some sluts between the sheets.�

Bulma�s cheeks crimsoned at his last admission.

�A little something of all three would be a very tempting
proposition in a life-mate, were I ever to take one.�

Finding it hard to form words in reply, she missed the
moment he got closer. The first she knew of it was when he whispered, �So, can
you see why I shouldn�t think you beautiful now?� into her ear, pelting her
exposed neck with warm breath.

�I guess I should have figured that strength would come into
it somewhere. Oh well! One out of three isn�t so bad� she said with a wink.

He didn�t take long to figure her meaning, and realization
dawned on him with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow.

�Well, well,� he said, �Now isn�t that an interesting
development.�

Bulma smiled smugly and stepped away, but Vegeta�s eyes kept
her under close scrutiny.

It seemed to bring them both back from a conversation that
had escalated very quickly into something very dangerous. Bulma had always
wanted progress in her understanding of Vegeta, but this conversation� it had
taken things a step too far for her liking. Her body had started to shake in
anticipation of what he might do next, and that was oh, so very wrong . . .
wasn�t it?

Shaking her head and realizing she was going completely
insane, she ignored Vegeta and walked towards the open doors.

She shrugged her shoulders. Vegeta didn�t find her as
attractive as othen min might, but that didn�t mean she had to be equally
unaffected. She had to admit there was something very appealing about him.
The thought of bedding the Saiyan prince had never entered her head before, but
she had to admit the idea was tempting. His dark power was something she could
almost feel run through her when he was close, and she had no doubt it would be
an even more amazing experience in closer contact. Certainly his control and
perfectionism promised well on the satisfaction side of things, and now she
knew he had experience as well, that was a definite bonus.

Once out of the den she sighed in relief, and went to the
kitchen. The heat in her cheeks was fuelled by their weird conversation. She
had no doubt that he would follow her. Food was on offer. He was like Goku in
that sense; he never turned down a free meal. She just hoped she could avoid
more of the same kind of conversation. The desire she had felt for him on the
patio was far too sudden and real.

Her foresight was proved accurate a moment later. When she
reached the microwave, she felt a chill skitter down her back. It was always
felt that way. She might not see or hear him enter a room, but she could always
feel when his eyes were on her.

She didn�t say anything as she served the food, sectioning
it proportionally for their unequal appetites. He was there, leaning against
the doorframe, watching her as she worked, but (much to Bulma�s relief) it
appeared their conversation was finished.

Moving from the work surface, she laid his meal on the
table. Instantly he moved away from the door and sat stiffly on the chair at
the end. Knowing that he didn�t like people watching him eat, Bulma retrieved
her own dinner and left the room, heading to the lounge and the television time
she had promised herself earlier.

She slumped back onto the soft cushions, positioning her
food on her lap as she picked up the remote and started to flick through the
hundreds of stations her cable company offered. Settling on a music channel,
because of nothing else interesting being on, she let the soulful music of some
new rock band fill the room as she ate.

She put her empty plate on the coffee table and stretched
her feet across the sofa. The music was really quite relaxing and she soon felt
her eyelids drooping.

She wasn�t, therefore, fully aware of how much time had
passed when she next opened them. By then a figure had joined her on the sofa.
Wiping the sleep from her eyes she stretched slightly, her feet brushing the
material of Vegeta�s trousers. At some point she must have unconsciously pushed
them under his thighs for the extra heat they offered.

Slightly startled she pulled her feet away, her eyebrows
raising a fraction, as she wondered how long he had let her stay that way.
She�d never seen him like this before, not doing anything, taking comfort in
her father�s house. It made him seem almost � normal.

His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second before they
were snatched haughtily away. The silence of the house was only broken by the
commentary of some reporter on the making of a music video.

It wasn�t an uncomfortable silence, but Bulma decided to
break it anyway. Passing him the remote she said, �Feel free to change the station,
I couldn�t find anything I liked.�

He grunted in acknowledgement, but didn�t change the
channel. Instead he turned to face her.

�Can I ask you a question?� he inquired.

She smiled. This was turning into an interesting evening.

�Sure - go for it, Vegeta.�

�What is a �wife�?�

He asked it slowly, confusion heavy on his brow.

mal>

�You used the term earlier,� he continued as a form of
explanation. �I presume it has something to do with mated couples, but, I am not
sure in what context it should be used.�

Bulma was stunned.

�The scarred human fighter,� he began again, �you and he
once shared mated intimacy is that correct?�

Bulma blushed, although she didn�t quite know why. �Yes.�

�Does that make you his wife?�

She almost fell off the sofa! �Kami no!� she protested,
violently shaking her head. �We were lovers, that�s all. We never got married�
a good thing too as it turned out.�

Sitting upright and leaning a little forward, Bulma tried to
explain in more detail. �Well, you see, when two humans like each other a lot,
want to raise a family and spend the rest of their lives together, they might
decide they want to get married. It�s basically a ceremony that shows their
devotion to each other, and under the protection of whatever god they might
believe in. They exchange vows and become husband and wif/p> /p>

�So� you and the undisciplined human never performed such a
ceremony?� he asked.

�No - Yamcha and I never did.�

�But most humans do?�

�Sure! Mum and Dad are married - Goku and Chichi, too.�

He looked thoughtful and turned that stare back on her. �Why
didn�t you get married?�

�Well�� she said, �there are several reasons. For one I
didn�t know if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Although we had
fun together, I guess I knew I didn�t love him as much as I ought to. We both
knew it, in a way. The sex was fun, but we just realized our relationship was
based more on friendship than passion.�

Vegeta harrumphed in reply and looked back to the
television. �Friendship,� he sneered, �Love. They are weak emotions, I do not
understand why your species covets them so much.�

Bulma sighed. He really was lost to everything, wasn�t he?
�It�s part of being human.�

They both lapsed into silence again, and even though he was
staring at the television, Bulma could see the creases in his forehead that
hinted his mind was otherwise engaged.

�Vegeta?� she questioned.

�Hn?�

�Have you ever had a friend, you know � someone you cared
about, and someone who cared back?�

�No.�

�No one?�

�No,� he repeated.

�Would you ever want one?�

He scowled at her from across the seat. �No.�

�It�s a pity,� she said, standing and stretching her joints
into order.

�Why?� he asked.

�Because,� she said with a yawn, �I think I would have liked
being your friend.�

Levelling her smile at him, she headed out of the room and
to the stairs and her bedroom. She made it half way to the top before Vegeta�s
low voice drifted up to meet her.

�Woman!�

�Yeah?� she replied, feeling a nervous shiver rush up her
spine.

�Do not wish for such foolish things.�

Standing still for a moment, Bulma shook her head.

�It�s your loss, Vegeta,� she whispered, before climbing the
stairs once again.

When she reached her bedroom, she flopped down on the
freshly washed sheets, and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind focused on the
Saiyan downstairs and their conversation. Why did she feel so good around him?
She�d always been interested in him, but it was more than that now. On the
patio she had received a wake up call like none she had ever had before. It
showed her, despite his objections, she already did consider him a friend.

When had it happened � the transition from fear to love? Oh,
she wasn�t in love with him, but she valued his company, took pleasure
from being around him. Her eyes slanted as she hated herself for the next
thought - she felt an attraction to him. Again her brain disobeyed all reason
and wondered what kind of lover Vegeta would be? He�d probably be powerful,
demanding and (with his stamina,) go all night. Her cheeks blushed, but her
mind kept wondering, and the thought of getting him between her sheets became
more and more appealing.

She wasn�t looking for love she didn�t have time for it, but
a lover? Someone she could come home to for raw nights of passion. She didn�t
want a comfortable relationship - she wanted reckless mind-numbing sex and with
no thought to the consequences. Vegeta presented something of an opportunity.
He wouldn�t be the kind of man for commitment ont ant anything other than the
physical, and that would suit her fine.

Of course thinking about it and achieving it were two
entirely different matters. After all, hadn�t Vegeta just told her outright
that he didn�t think her beautiful? It was then she realized, he had never
completely said she wasn�t. He had
called her �exotic�and asked her if she knew why he shouldn�t find her beautiful, but he had never said he
didn�t. She even remembered he had become somewhat more animated when she had
claimed to fill at least one of his criteria in a �life-mate� as he had called
it.

Was there hope for erotic nigof Sof Saiyan-filled pleasure
ahead of her? She laughed out loud, her hands covering hece ice in disbelief.
Her imagination really was overactive! It was going to get her trouble one of
these days.

She undressed and crawled under the sheets. �Damn him,� she
yawned, snuggling down into her pillows and letting her tiredness win out, �Why
can�t I get him out of my head?�

That night she dreamed of being Vegeta�s lover. It was to be
the first of many.

*********************************************************************

A/N � I�d love to know what you all think of this chapter.

Ember

Thank you LisaB for beta-ing this story and being such a
great friend.
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A Saiyan For All Seasons