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A Saiyan For All Seasons	By : Lynnember Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 6043 -:- 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
A Saiyan For All Seasons

8.5pt'> DBZ isn�t mine, but who cares? The Vegeta lusting goes on� and on.
*drool*

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

Bulma looked down on
the scene with equal admiration and disbelief. The warm sun settled beautifully
over her father�s grounds, diffusing the spell of foretold danger, and pang
ng
instead a vision of cheer and hope for the future. Swallows spun across the sky
in a perfect V formation, and somewhere in the distance their cheery chorus
could be heard, complimented by the putter of a distant plane engine.

The warm rays seeped
into her skin and made her feel a kind of refined satisfaction in herself. The
last six months had been something extraordinary in their trials. They had finality,
the close of a life that had long since lost its light to the torn drum of
maturity. They had also had risk and deathly company, swayed by her invitation
and her guest�s dark soul.

Her first love had
been lost, but the friendship it had been transported into in its place more
than made up for any sadness. They had gained so much by putting aside feelings
that were painful as a couple and yet were beautiful to share as two sensible
and feeling companions.

Her nrienriend
stepped away from her mother a moment to glance up at the balcony. He smiled
once, lighting up that scarred and handsome face as he waved. She returned the
gesture, and graced it with a smile of her own. Yes, it was so much better this
way.

Wh'>When her life had
felt like it was going nowhere, when her brain had started to freeze and become
tempted by darker images, no one had been there for her, no one had been able
to coax her through it, but things had slowly run their course anyway. She was sure it had happened that way
because it was meant to, not because she wanted it to. She was stronger for it,
more in control of her life and wiser to what had the potential to harm her.
The rest was up to time. She was slowly learning to live with her newfound
freedom, learning to give it a special place in her soul, and balance it out
with some sense of normalcy.

Peace.

How could one word
have so many variants? She was at peace with the situation, riding it out until
peace was given undeniably in reality as well as fantasy. She hadn�t felt true
peace in a long time, nonce nce before Namek, but today� well, today it didn�t
matter quite as much. When the androids were defeated and Vegeta had left her
home she would know the true meaning of the word again and she felt sure she
would flourish under it. This day, at least, promised her as much. Peace of the
body and mind.

No more uncerty, ty,
no more trying, no more bending over backwards and no more arrogant Saiyans!
She would have a mind that no longer yearned for the hearts of dark and
indecipherable men. Instead she would be back as Bulma Briefs, strong-willed,
and beautiful genius, not some trampled-on adrenalin junkie, with an overstrained
and traitorous heart.

p>

She sighed again,
looking out across the cityscape and searching for the offending member of the
household. The whir of his gravity room was silent. Perhaps that was why the
morning appeared more tranquil than most. Her eyes scanned the grass.

There he was,
throwing his ominous frame into the peaceful scene. He wasn�t doing anything
other than lying on the crisp fresh grass, eyes closed and scowl in perfect
place, oblivious to how wrong it felt for her to see him revel in the morning
sunshine. How did he do it? How did he
take so much satisfaction from the gift of her planet and feel no remorse about
its possible destruction or hers?

He took so much and
gave so little. If it wasn�t so annoying it might have been tragic. Was that
why� was that why she couldn�t get him out of her mind - day or night?

In the beginning she
had wanted to find out so much about him, had been consumed in the task of
understanding him and his thoughts with the vain hope of trying to influence
his nature and show him how life should really be valued. It had been
pointless, she could see that now - could see it so completely on this fine,
beautiful morning and she sighed for him.

The thought of giving
up on him was painful, after all the months she had invested in trying to gain
a small connection with him, but when her own heart and peace of mind were in
danger, could she really ignore it any longer? She had tried everything to get
closer to him and he had refused her advances so many times that now she
wondered if retraction was the only option she had left.

What did it matter
after all? He wouldn�t change; he would never understand what it meant to have
proper durable feeling and he would be the only one to suffer for it. He
enticed her; he intrigued her, but there was only so much rejection one woman
could take. He was a lost cause; no profit from her efforts except her own
frustration. That didn�t explain away her regret, but it smoothed it over, and
gave her hope from other directions and for a future that promised fruition
rather than degradation and unfulfilled need.

Maybe she had been
wrong. Maybe he wasn�t lost � maybe he didn�t need finding, Perhaps Yamcha had
been right all along. Was Vegeta really everything he displayed?

He was cold, he was
angry and he was ruthless; but she had seen him as none of her friends had. In
careless moments, she had noticed how his drive and determination almost
transformed into despondency - perhaps even loneliness. It had been enough to
give her hope for his heart, but would she really be releasing a man or merely
deluding herself he was something he wasn�t?

She had tried to care
for him, had even found she could feel affinity to him, but that was as far as
it had advanced in months of trying. It was all the more frustrating because
she felt sure that if he had given her something back, just once in a while,
then she could very well have found it easy to love him, despite his faults.

Perhaps she still did
love him, in a weird kind of way, as a housekeeper might learn to appreciate a
regular and longstanding tenant.

She sighed, her chest
squeezing painfully with it. Sometimes she gave her heart far too freely for
her own good.

�Hey Bulma!�

She snapped out of
her thoughts and once again registeremchamcha.

�Why t yot you come
down and help us?� he said, gesturing to the flowers, with a sparkle in his
eyes as he held the hose over them.

Bulma smiled back,
and nodded. �I�ll be right down.�

She did just that,
stopping only for a second to make sure she looked as good as always. In the
colour her cheeks blushed, in the sparkle and light her eyes held she was
determined to set the morning on fire, then perhaps Vegeta would notice her and
start to open up. Then she would understand him and all this nonsense would end
once and for all.

S'>She smiled at her
reflection - it was more radiant and clear than she remembered seeing it for
months, but she knew it was nothing that Vegeta would appreciate or even
acknowledge. Still, she congratulated herself on her clear complexion and
practically skipped out of the house. Today was all about fun, and Vegeta be
damned, she was going to have it.

�Yamcha!� she sung,
as she moved closer, twirling up to him and giving him a friendly hug, �Mum!�
she coued,ued, laying a kiss on her cheek.

�Why are you in such
a good mood?� chuckled Yamcha.

�Why shouldn�t I be?
It�s a beautiful morning and I�m here with two of the most dear people to me in
the world, and you know what?� she said, taking the hose from his slack grip,
and bending over to water the flowers. �I�m going to enjoy every single minute
of it.�

With a playful and
quick turn Yamcha found the hose turned on him, soaking his orange gi and
making it cling to his muscled chest. He sputtered slightly, the laughter returning,
as he effortlessly swiped it from her hands and turned it back on her.

�Ahhhhh!� she
shrieked, running along the lush grass, �Do you remember when we used to have
water fights in the back garden, Mum? When I was a little girl?�

Yamcha chased after
her, keeping up the pretence of not being able to catch his friend.

�You, me and Dad? It
was so fun back then, Yamcha! Dad would arm his housebots with water guns and
do you remember, Mum? He�d make a race track along the rosebush here and�
ahhhhh!� she screamed, as Yamcha levitated above her and let the water run over
her silky aqua hair. �W� we�d---�

Yamcha was in peels
of laughter, knowing the water was ice cold as it dripped from her hair and
down the neck of her summer dress. �You�d�?�

�We�d,� she
continued, picking up her heels and running again. �We�d have to try and get
all the sweets on the course without getting wet,� she smiled and avoided
another attack.

Mrs Brief tittered,
lost in the same memory that held her daughter, �Oh yes, those were fun days,
weren�t they? I don�t think anyone ever did manage to get all the prizes
without getting soaked to the skin.�

�And we didn�t mind
either; it would always end in a muddied and soaked m�l�e with the hosepipe
anyway. We�d laugh and play for hours.�

�Who�d win?� Yamcha
asked, catching up to her and trying to hold her s, bu, but the water had made
everything slippery and she ran across the lawn and away from his grip.

�I�m daddy�s girl,�
she threw over her shoulder, not looking where she was going. �I always w�.�

Her foot hit
something in the soft grass and she fell.

Not hurt, the giggles
returned, as she tried to see through a wet and tangled curtain of aquamarine.
�Ha!� she said through a blush. �I�m such a klutz!�

�And that�s only the
beginning of your failings.�

Bulma froze, the
laughter suddenly stripped from her lips as the icy words flittered up her
spine, as though they had forgotten the heat of the day.

Vegeta sat up from
the grass he had been sunbathing on and levelled his muscular upper torso on
his el. Hi. His eyes glared at hers as she splayed her hair back with her right
hand. They continued to stare, right through her and into her at the same time.

�Good going, Vegeta!�
Yamcha laughed from the distance. �Don�t let her escape!�

Those eyes never
looked away as Yamcha�s footstepproaproached.

�I don�t plan to,� he
muttered so quietly only she could hear, letting his eyes fall once more across
her shaking and wet body. Then he
flopped back down as though nothing had happened.

Something in his eyes
and voice had turned her brain upside down and Bulma found that even if she had
wanted to, she couldn�t move. Yamcha stood over her, chancing a quick glance
back at the Saiyan, who caught the glance and sneered his nose up at the human
fighter.

�I don�t plan on
letting any of your species escape.�

Yamcha�s gaze turned
back to Bulma and he rolled his eyes. Bulma couldn�t hold herself back and
giggled as Yamcha offered her a hand and she stood up. She was covered from
head to toe in the freshly cut grass, it clung to her legs, arms - it was
everywhere.

�Come on B,� Yamcha
smiled. �Lets get you indoors and cleaned up. You�re a grown woman now,� he
clicked his tongue. �You have to learn to start acting like one.�

Bulma smacked him on
the arm. �Hey! Watch it arsehole!� she chided even though she was laughing as
hard as he was.

�You know, Woman,�
Vegeta snarled from beside them. �Clumsiness is an affliction I�m more than
willing to cure if you push for it.�

He was playing with a
small ball of ki in his fingers as he spoke, and when he knew they were both
watching, he smirked and flicked the tiny orb with his thumb and forefinger,
making a pot plant explode the other side of the garden.

Bulma blinked in
disbelief, as Yamcha pulled gently but insistently on her arm. She caught
Vegeta�s gaze just as he was arrogantly wiping his thumb across his bottom
lip.

�Come on, Bulma,�
Yamcha coaxed. �I think it�s time we went indoors,� and when she didn�t move at
first, he ed aed a little more persistently, almost dragging her off to the
kitchen.

All the way she
stayed turned away from her friend, her eyes holding onto Vegeta�s. His did the
same and he even rolled over, stretched out on the grass belly-down, to keep it
there. The usual frown on his lips was replaced with a smirk, and it almost
seemed to shine in his usually shut-off black eyo:p>o:p>

Then, just as quickly
as it materialised, it was gone, his amusement lost and his arm curled forward
to display a white-gloved middle finger.

With more bravery
than she thought she possessed she flung the gesture back - a smile of
confident defiance adorning her face, as she disappeared behind the kitchen
door.

Her legs shook a
little as she walked to the sink, wondering whether or not Vegeta was about to
burst through the kitchen door. He had done it on previous occasions when she�d
unknowingly stepped over the invisible line that circled his pride. He was an
angry man with an addiction to power. Fortunately in their few earlier
confrontations he had managed to control himself just at the last. It was as
though he knew where intimidation and force could get him, and for the time
being at least he had made a decision not to let his strength run away with
him.

The sponge wiping the
grass from her face was secondary to Bulma�s thoughts as it glided gently over
her cheekbones. The confrontation had made her feel slightly exhilarated now
that she could feel secure she had escaped immediate retaliation. There were no
explosions, no powerful footsteps approaching, and in the distance the drone of
the gravity room signalled her safety as the computer brought itself back up to
speed.

Still, she couldn�t
keep her mind away from Vegeta. The way he had kept meaningful eye contact with
her and had lowered his voice, whispering words that only she would hear � it
was something she had never known him to do so carelessly before.

Oh, she had caught
him watching her on several occasions and she had even returned the action, but
he had always had that frown, had always
retained an air of indifferent dignity, only speaking to shout at her. Out
there on the sun-drenched lawn, however, it had almost seemed as if he was
enjoying himself rather than trying to unnerve her and Yamcha.

Those traitorous
thoughts were back almost instantaneously - the thought of being able to tame
that erratic nature, of glorying in its power and presence, and keeping a
quarter for herself.

�A penny for them?�
Yamcha interrupted.

�What?�

�You�ve been wiping
the same patch of skin for the last five minutes. What are you thinking about
so seriously?�

She sighed, looking
out of the window as she sat on the work surface. �Vegeta,� she said honestly.

�What about him?�

�Do you think it�s
wrong? You know - caring about him?�

�B-chan, we�ve been
over this before. There�s nothing wrong with you wanting to see the best in
people. You�re not alone; Goku thinks there�s some good in him as well, and
although it passes me, if in the long run, having someone to care for
him makes him become a better person or gives him less reason to cause
suffering, then it can�t be a bad thing, can it?�

Bulma nodded mutely,
trailing the sponge a little insecurely over her arms.

�Besides, why are you
still so hung up on this? Didn�t you say to me last week that you�ve decide not
to let him get to you anymore?�

She shook her head.
�I know, Yamcha, but did you see him then out on the lawn? He almost looked
like he was enjoying himself.�

Yamcha laughed out
loud, �Oh man, Bulma! Give me a break. The only thing I saw out there was
Vegeta throwing his power around, quite literally. If that�s him having fun
then maybe it�s best that you do leave him alone.�

�I know but--�

Yamcha was right in
front of her now, clasping both her hands in his, the handsome lines of his face
hardening into rare seriousness.

�Look, Bulma, I know
I said it�s okay to care, and it is, it�s just ....�

�What?�

�Just be careful, B.
I know you want to see the good in him, and that�s a noble cause, but be
careful about wanting it too much, okay? As much as you might want to, you
can�t find something if it�s just not there you you understand me?�

She smiled. �You
think I�m getting used to him and giving him emotions he doesn�t have?�

�Well,� Yamcha
replied, laying his training top on the radiator, �Perhaps, but that doesn�t
mean you have to stop trying completely. I think you were right when you said
you should back off for a little while though. It might just give you some
perspective on the situation. You know � like you and I did.�

�You�re right,� she
said, pushing herself from the worktop and landing with a sandaled clunk on the
kitchen tiles, �Look how wonderfully that turned out.�

Yamcha smiled,
looking down at her, �It has turned out well hasn�t it?� he said, then looking
over her arms, �You�re still covered in grass.�

Bulma looked down.
�Aw shit! I guess I�ll have to take a shower. Will you still be here when I get
down?�

�Sure thing. Puar will be back by then, but I can take a
few minutes out from training to relax.�

Bulma smiled, shaking
her head.

�What?� Yamcha
questioned, knowing that look.

�If you relax anymore
you�ll be asleep.�

He looked a smidgen
hurt, but Bulma wasn�t going to be prevented from saying her piece by it.

�You need to get back to a regular routine, Yamcha.�

�Not this again?�

�Hey I�m saying this as a friend, okay? So don�t get all uptight. I�m just worried
about you. Saturday afternoon seems to be the only time you train anymore. Do
you still enjoy fighting?�

�Of course I do. I�m
just trying to have some fun after being in Otherworld for so long. You know
how boring it was there? All we did was train every second of the day. I�m just
taking advantage of the fact that I can go out and enjoy myself. If Death
taught me anything, it�s that living, feeling, experiencing everything is so
much more important than getting stuck in routine. It doesn�t mean that I�m
unhappy training.�

�Well,� she said, �If you say so, but just remember, the
fight with the androids will be thal tal thing. If you�re not prepared for them
then stay away. I couldn�t cope with losing you again, okay?�

He smiled and nodded, �Hey, don�t worry, I�ll be fine. At least I�m not going to kill myself before
I even get a shot,� he laughed, motioning his head towards the gravity room.
�Just don�t go comparing me to Vegeta - he�s insane!�

�I wouldn�t dream of it. You both push your luck to the
extremes, but you�re no more like Vegeta than I am.�

�I don�t know about that, Bulma. You both scare me shitless
when you get angry.�

�Yeah, but that�s because you�re a wuss, Yamcha.� She winked
and left the kitchen, chuckling to herself as she climbed the stairs to the
family rooms.

He laughed, shaking his head as she left, and walked out to
finish helping Mrs. Briefs.

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

The day had passed well enough. Bulma had been glad of
Yamcha�s company and although he only spent two of the original five hours
training, he had made himself as useful as possible to both her and her mother
so as to warrant no further comments on his lack of constancy.

It had become a custom on these training days for the Briefs
to have an outdoor barbeque to reward the exertion as the sun vanished behind
the city skyline. It was a way to settle down the day and celebrate being
together, and even though there was now very little chance of it being a family
thing, as her mother had hoped it might, it was still just as comfortable. Then
again her mother had had her married off to every single man she had met since
coming of age. She�d even had the audacity to put Vegeta in the mix on one very
memorable and ludicrous occasion. It was no big deal now. It was simply
tradition, and - she smiled, relaxing back on the wooden deck chair, watching
Vegeta walk purposefully over to the group � you don�t monkey with tradition.

�Well hi there, Vegeta!� her mother greeted with the usual
giggles, �I�ve set your plates out already; just dig in and take what you feel
like having.�

Over the last six months this had been one of her favourite
occasions. This was the time she had allocated for trying to get closer to
Vegeta. During the week he ate alone or during office hours so she never had
the chance to get close enough for conversat but but on Saturday evenings the
lure of the freshly cooked meat always made him suffer the family�s company for
a few hours.

Snuggling back on the chair, she was about to welcome him in
the same way she always did, (with a smile and a �Hi Vegeta�) when she saw
Yamcha look at her and slowly shake his head. She nodded in understanding and
simply put back down her shades. She couldn�t be so relaxed about it anymore
and she owed it to her own heart to try and see if abstinence worked the
miracle that pointed attention never had.

Even though the heat of the day had been lost, the sun was
still just high enough above the horizon to set the city aglow in a halo of
reds and oranges and throw warm and comforting shadows along the ground. Bulma
sighed. It was so beautiful!

�Hey Bulma, aren�t you having any?� asked Yamcha from the
grill.

�I�m not that hungry. Fight it out between yourselves and I�ll have whatever�s left.�

Bulma, enjoying the tamed heat and relaxation if offered,
resumed her sunbathing.

It wasn�t long, however, before she became uncomfortable.
The reason for this was simple. Vegeta.
He was staring at her again, and not the stare of that afternoon, but
the prideful and arrogant one that seemed to chill the soul. She shifted in her
seat, suddenly feeling vulnerable. What was up his arse now? His brow held all
the anger of a storm cloud.

In an effort to shake both the feeling and the stare, she
got up.

�Anyone feel like a soda?� she asked. �Or perhaps something
a little stronger?�

�Oh yes please, Bulma. A soda for me,� trilled Puar.

�Yamcha?�

�A beer sounds good to me.�

�Mum, Dad?�

�We already have some tea, dear.�

Bulma shook her head; her parents seemed to drink nothing
else.

�Okay then! One beer and one soda coming up, oh and a bottle
of wine for me! Mum, is that Chardonnay still in the fridge?�

Hearing no protests and seeing her mother wasn�t even
listening to her anyway, Bulma turned into the house.

It was half way between the patio and the kitchen when she
first heard the steady footsteps behind her. They were light but purposeful,
leaving no doubt in her mind to whom they belonged. She swore silently for not
just offering him something. Now she was going to have to ignore him while he
was in the same room, not something you could do and make it look like anything
other than a slur. She might want to distance herself from him, but that didn�t
mean she wanted him to think she was deliberately ignoring him. He had too much
baggage on his ego as it was.

By the time she entered the kitchen, Vegeta had caught up
with her. As she switched the lights on, they flickered a moment and he slipped
passed her and to the cupboard where the bottles of wine were kept. Bulma
raised an eyebrow. Vegeta had never struck her as a wine drinker.

She was still wondering what to make of him when the
cupboard slammed shut. �Where has the liquor gone?� he demanded, not even
turning to face her.

�In Dad�s study,� Bulma replied. �He moved it there when we
had Gohan to stay last week.�

Vegeta nodded and turned tail. For a man trained in the
martial arts he had the drinking habits of an alcoholic. She had very quickly
learned it was a part of his routine, no doubt a result of his previously hard
and barren life. The alcohol didn�t seem to affect him either. It was more like
expensive water, not that he knew the value of anything anyway.

Shrugging her shoulders, she moved to the fridge and grabbed
the drinks. That exchange was about as far as she and Vegeta ever got. Any
conversation he shared with her was mandatory, business-like, and short. There
was no elaboration to his demands. It followed three set phases. He asked - she
gave - he left. Maybe distancing herself from Vegeta wasn�t going to be as hard
as she had imagined. After all, he had a natural skill for being aloof and
detached. All she had to remember was not to deliberately chase after him or go
out of her way to make him feel welcome.

No, she thought,
picking up a couple of glasses, and going back outside. It won�t be hard at all.

The evening passed into night more quickly than Bulma had
wanted. She, Yamcha and Puar had talked for ages, remembering the adventures of
the past, sharing childhood memories and discussing the future. Yamcha had
slowly sipped his way through ten beers, and Bulma had likewise managed to
consume a bottle of very expensive wine.

She giggled when she realized just how much she�d drunk. It
hadn�t been until she was saying goodbye to Yamcha, and he was staggering into
his flight path with Puar guiding him, that she felt her own intoxication. It
wasn�t extreme, but her head was definitely swimming a little and she could feel
the heat in her cheeks. Taking off her uncomfortable high-heels, Bulma waved
until he was no longer in sight.

Her parents had retired to bed a few hours before, not being
used to staying up late. The sky was clear and the air still warm from the
lovely day. The light of the den was the only one on, and its bright light
shone dramatically across the dark lawn. It was such a lovely night and (not
being tired) Bulma really didn�t fancy going indoors. Instead she walked to the
patio decking, sat down and lit a cigarette, staring up at the stars as her
drunkenness made them blur a little.

A couple of minutes passed in this manner, until Bulma was
disturbed by a noise behind her. She glanced briefly over her shoulder and saw
an unmistakable shadow standing in front of the double doors. It sent a shiver
through her and she looked away. She�d promised herself she�d show him the same
indifference he showed to her, and there was no way she was going to break that
promise so soon.spanspan>

It did nothing to take the chill away, and she knew
instinctively that he was watching her. His footfalls were near silent, and it
wasn�t until he was directly behind her that she even noticed.

Every muscle in Bulma�s body was screaming at her to turn
around and invite him to sit next to her, but she somehow managed to stop
herself. An opportunity like this was something she had been striving for, for
so long, and it had never materialized; why did it have to happen now? Now,
when she was trying to force her indifference?

�Woman!� he snarled.

She didn�t reply.

�Woman,� he growled a second time.

�What is it, Vegeta?�

�Go indoors,� he demanded.

Bulma smiled, a chance to test her defiance. �No. I�m happy
here.�

He moved again, this time to stand next to her.

�I said leave,� he repeated, with more anger and less
control.

�Why?�

�I wish to be alone.�

Bulma shook her head. He would have to give her a better
reason than that. �Then go somew els else. It�s a big planet.�

�Not as big as some. Now move.�

In a weird kind of way this was starting ecomecome fun.
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A Saiyan For All Seasons