Dragon Ball Z Whenever You Call

**I do not own Dragonball or its characters. I just like putting them in my stories. It belongs to the creator Akira Toriyama. DUHH! **

**The song, Whenever you call, is a song by Mariah Carey and Brian Mcknight (I don't know if you all like her but that doesn't matter. The song is BEAUTIFUL!). Just saying that I don't own it and it belongs to Mariah Carey and her associates. **

**PLEASE CHECK OUT THE SONG ON iTUNES! IT'S GREAT AND SOOOOOOO B/V!**

**This is not the super long fic that I've been telling people about. In fact, this is rrrrrrreeeaallllyyy short compared to that one. I've still been working on it and I decided to post up some of my other fics earlier instead. There _are_ some lines in here that tie in with the super long one but it shouldn't be too obvious. Please enjoy this fic it's one of my favs. Oh, by the way, this is a DOUBLE whammy LEMON so be warned. **

**Oh, look, it starts out with one. **

Trunks Saga:

How long had it been since he had come up for air? Her moist lips suckled at his bottom one and although she gave him many chances, his tongue would not retreat from her entrance. Sultry warmth surrounded the space between them as she nibbled more at his bottom lip and a spring of blood was released from it.

She leaned in on him, which was how it happened. And now that it had begun, there could be no more voids between them. He wanted all of their body to be soaked in the warmth that she started. He grabbed her hip and swung her towards his groin which was already beating with the rhythm of his sweat.

Taking full advantage, she pulled her arm away from her his shoulder and took the risk of gliding it up his neck and grasping hold of his cheek, just as a reminder for him to never part their lips and a reminder for her to pull away if she felt something terribly wrong.

Nothing had felt so terribly right before. She could feel him almost bumping himself upon her crotch already as he more firmly clasped onto her fully clothed hip. He slipped her blouse up a little peek so he could touch the silky cloth of her skin.

His fingers ran alongside her and tickled her cold and naked skin. She could feel his desire running up her spine. That's when she realized it was not going to go any further unless her entire stomach was naked, and maybe her chest, possibly her legs, by chance her whole body.

Then she had release from him. Her sucking from his lips had come to a bittersweet end and he tried to taste everything she had left inside of him. At that point, his skin crawled and he could feel the taste of rejection clinging to the back of his throat. She could see his confusion buried in his eyes.

He watched her step back from him intimidating his wanting for her. Like as dream that sprung from pure daylight she could imagine her saying it any minute.

"_No, Vegeta, we can't do this!"_

Vegeta held his breath a little longer and waiting for her words to liberate. They never did. Instead, she took her delicate hand and wrapped them around the sides of her blouse. Then like flick of her fingers, she exposed herself entirely.

He exhaled his worry for it to come out as a pant of astonishment. Her perfect breasts were hung like soft mounds being held tight in a ball by her lace bra. The tops of them tried to get away and throw themselves onto him.

Time replayed from earlier that night, she moved even closer to him and leaned in by his awaiting lips. But she stalled, and Vegeta could feel her arm wrap around behind him and turn the nozzle of the shower very slowly.

He had forgotten his place and realized that if she had pushed him a little farther he would fall headfirst into the shower. Sweat sprang from the nozzle as millions of droplets ran from it. The warmth that had created itself between the crevices of their bodies had grown into humid, sticky air that filled their lungs with a forceful passion.

A delicate nudge was all he needed to push him into the burning water. His chest soaked up the sweat and he breathed out a cloud of hot steam that built itself inside of his mouth. As steam freed from his lips, words freed from hers the first time that night.

"Loose yours and I'll loose mine," she said as smooth and seductive as the steam. Behind her back, he could feel her picking at the straps of her bra. Vegeta looked down and saw that the only thing he had to loose was his pants.

Like they were never there, he swiftly took the hot, sticky boxers that clung to his skin and revealed his huge, throbbing member that had raised itself up for her welcome.

She gasped a tiny breath and delayed her taking off her bra and panties to look at it. It was much bigger and thicker than she had anticipated. She licked the insides of her lips with a hunger as she watched the hot water trickle off its tip.

"Bulma…" he said to catch her attention. Bulma looked up sharply and remembered her side of the deal. With the flick of her wrist she snapped the clasp to her bra and sprang her breasts from their captor. They bounced out and almost leaped onto him just as he had imagined.

That's not what kept Vegeta waiting, though. Bulma reached down and daintily slid her black, lace thong off and wriggled them down to her ankles. Then she swept them off to the other side of the room leaving her naked, peachy body open for the taking.

Vegeta backed up in astonishment and feasted his brown eyes on her. Looking from her tiny toes up to her wavy blue hair, he wanted everything for himself and was going to leave not one scrap for another to gorge upon…just as soon as she got into the depths of the shower.

Bulma placed her toes neatly onto the hot tile. It burned the bottoms of her soles and she jumped into the shower of sticky sweat and laid her moist body upon his. Vegeta felt her hairless area brushed up against his throbbing dick and felt the screaming desire to force it inside of her. Then he felt her cool embrace that created a refreshing vibe around the steaming room.

She smelled his hard chest and tried to breathe the burning tenderness in him. In return, he held her closer to him and smelled the sweet citrus that was kept in her soft, now wet locks of blue.

As his hand trailed up her wet and sweltering back, he coaxed her body into responding. Her area softened and thumped with thick moisture oozing out. Vegeta's spell had successfully worked against her and she willingly pushed closer against him feeling his smooth, marble abs against her stomach.

He was closer than ever in fitting his large manhood inside of her tender area, but as the tip begged for her entrance, she spoke again.

"Vegeta?" she asked sweetly.

"Yea…" he patiently responded.

"Tell me…tell me you love me…" she eagerly waited for something she had longed to hear many nights before. Her body still held tight to his raw muscles, he decided to pull her closer as a reflex.

Then, like he never heard of the words ever before, he spoke it tenderly and fervently. "Bulma…I love you."

Vegeta could barely get it out before Bulma excitedly pressed her lips upon his once again. Bulma fervidly held onto him and squeezed his burning body with a fiery craving.

That's when she let him in. Vegeta violently grabbed her tender hips and pulled them closer to his groin where his hard dick awaited her. He aggressively pushed it into her hot entrance and heard her respond with an aching moan. Bulma bit his lip harder and tried to grab onto his shoulders as tight as she could as he brutally bumped his member harder and harder against her.

The smooth and thick texture of him made her grow crazy with delight and she pinpointed the very moment where he pushed back in that made her scream in ecstasy. The water against their sensitive areas made the ride at ease and more enjoyable. The slick glossy goo that rubbed between them thickened and was sprinkled off with the water that still rained down against their searing bodies.

A sensation suddenly started crawling up from Vegeta's groin and made his limbs go numb. He let out a moan and let it grow into an earth-shattering scream. Bulma's breath grew heavy as her orgasm neared as well and with his sweet sound she joined in

His head grew light and his limbs ached with the sweet and salty taste still clinging to the make of his throat. The steam from the shower flew up his nostrils and he released another breath of smoke into the air. His eyes grew heavy and dark with exhaustion.

Night had taken over.

She laid there with the covers toppling over her. The gold satin softly drowned her peach skin and many times he had wanted to save her by throwing off the covers and bring her back to life using mouth to mouth.

Her smile, though, told of nothing but comfort and her eyelids did not flicker gently for they were hung low and kept heavily down. His fingers, which lay closely to his side, cried out for the urge to whisk away her tousled hair and feel the warmth of her flushed cheek.

And yet, he strongly told them not to. He had done enough damage to her once pure and unsoiled body. How dirty would he feel if he ever touched her again?

After the mind-blowing sex, he felt a slimy grease ooze down his back and his chest. Though they spent countless hours pruning in the steaming depths of the shower, he couldn't wash the oily grease from his skin.

"_I told you this would happen,"_ he said to himself. The guilty pleasure of wanting and lusting for her haunted him brutally and many times he had to remind himself that this feeling would occur. There would never be a chance to baptize him with an assuring feeling that things were going to be ok. Why did he have to break the only promise he ever made with himself?

"_I promised I wouldn't let it get that far…that I'd never fall in love…again…"_

Vegeta let himself latched onto something so sweet and so demanding and hurtful at the same time. This had happened before so why had he let himself do it again with all knowing that one day this was going to rip him apart limb from limb?

It hasn't happened yet. There was still a sense of security in Bulma that he hadn't felt before he came to Earth. Maybe this time will be different and everything will be the dream that he had fantasized about. Maybe this time, he was right.

But what did it matter? If the questioning of right and wrong was relevant, maybe he would put more thought into it. Once he had felt the forbidden feeling of her skin, it had already happened. Love had snatched the inside of his flesh and turned it inside out revealing everything there was to him in a single touch.

There was no going back now. Though maybe she hadn't seen it yet, he had just bared everything about him that he kept inside.

Truthfully, he couldn't have chosen a better person to share that with.

_Love wandered inside_

_Stronger than you_

_Stronger than I _

_And now that it has begun_

_We cannot turn back_

_We can only turn into one…_

There was a peculiar flavor to her drink that morning. It hadn't been the schnapps that she would sly into her coffee once her mother had turned her back. There seemed to be a rough taste that scratched the inside of her throat and made her cough the moment she held the steam up to her lips.

Maybe it was regret. No, wait, of course not. She could never be surer of anything than what she did the other night. Yet she couldn't help but carry the burden of guilt at her ankles.

Yamcha, his name was filled with the taste of jealousy and guilt. Then she realized that she _could_ be more certain that Yamcha had slipped that concoction into her coffee that morning. There was a heavy anticipation of ever telling him and she felt terrible remorse for breaking the news but inside she felt a little shameful of her pleasure of telling him.

The truth was his reactions were priceless.

Bulma took another sip and ignored the coughing sensation that scraped at her throat painfully. As it roughly went down she could feel it coming back up. She coughed and sputtered, very surprised from it.

Then a bone-chilling presence tickled the back of her nightgown. It was very rare that she could recognize the exact breathing of a specific person. She turned from her chair abruptly but tried to relax her composure at the sight of him. She wanted to at least look poised.

"Vegeta," he coughed and cried at the same time. Embarrassed by her reply, she covered her mouth disgracefully. Vegeta stood at the doorway carried by his pride and he raised an eyebrow to her and twisted his mouth.

"I made coffee if you want it," she said a little shyly as she pointed to the coffee maker. He didn't acknowledge her kindness that morning. He walked right past her brushing her compassion off his shoulder and gratefully poured more than enough for himself.

The coffee barely touched his lips before he hysterically started coughing like her. Clearing his throat, he looked up to her suspiciously. "What the fuck is wrong with this coffee?"

Maybe the coffee was to strong that morning, or maybe he was haunted by the sour smell of remorse as well. He looked like someone who would pick up a damsel and carry her off to have unconditional sex for not great purpose. Why would he have some sort of regret tagging alongside him too?

"Vegeta, sit down," she heard herself blurting. She didn't mind her own tone. She had been firm with him before.

He eyed her distrustfully again but voluntarily took the seat beside her.

Clasping her hands firmly on the table, she found the strength to look him through his dark onyx eyes and free her voice stronger than his. "Vegeta, I don't know what you thought of last night, or what it meant to you," she started.

Vegeta looked down to his lap and suddenly felt the reflex to ignore all that made him feel weak or uncomfortable. It _did_ feel like she was talking down to him. Then he felt her strong hand pull his chin up and cross his eyes with hers. Did she know who she was touching? How dare she treat him so inadequate? And still he let her do it.

"Listen to me!" her voice was till rough from her bad coffee. "The point is that we started something. And I don't know what created it; it could've been love or just plain lusting for raw sex but we did it."

She released his chin and fell back in her chair. He could see the look of revelation in her eyes like she knew she didn't have the right to touch him like that. Vegeta remained in the same listening position from when she held him. Astonished by his reaction, Bulma went on.

"Ok, well, I'm still a little shocked by it, but I think you and me both know that something between us has to be done."

"Yes," he blurted. She tilted her head to him confused and Vegeta's eyes bugged out not believe that he was agreeing with her also. 'Yes?' where did _that_ come from?

"U-um, so you _do_ agree?" she asked still staggered by his sudden blurting. Well he couldn't go back now. He nodded his head softly while still holding onto a thread of his pride that managed to cling to a small part of him.

"Vegeta, give me your hand." Bulma held out her palm welcoming him once again into the warmth of her skin. This time, though, touching her didn't feel so guilt ridden and he did as he was told. He placed his hand into her and she held onto his tightly.

"I'm not asking you to give your all into this relationship, so I decided that we'd make a pact. I'll hold one end of the deal and you'll hold your end."

"What do I have to do?" he asked impatiently.

"Well, all you have to do is…just…be there."

"Be there? Where?"

"Just with me," Bulma smiled. "I really like you, Vegeta. I don't know what it is but, I really just want you to stay at least for a while with me."

"At capsule Corp. you mean?"

"Just…with me," Bulma pulled her other hand from her lap and clasped onto both of their hands. Her thumb rubbed his coarse skin up and down soothingly.

The comfort that he had felt last night when she had rubbed herself against his cold body sprang up once again and ran through his veins warming his cold blood. He looked down her their hands and then looked back up and her inquisitively.

"Then what will _you_ do?" he spoke softly.

Bulma took a great sigh and smirked at him. Her eyes ran through him like she was trying to find something but as she opened her mouth to speak he knew she had found it.

"I'm still trying to figure you out," she grinned mysteriously. "I'm not sure what you would want from me. But I think I do hold something of yours to myself that you haven't shown to anyone yet."

There it was. She had found that sensitive piece from last night and he knew that she had picked it off from him to keep as her own. Vegeta had let her in and now she was going to take advantage of what was inside.

"You're so cold to everyone around you," she almost giggled like it was a laughing matter. "But last night, there was something really…sweet about you. It's like this prince of all Saiyans that wants to destroy everything in sight doesn't really want to harm anyone or anything."

It wasn't the explanation he was hoping for. His zeal and his intimidating personality was nothing to her now. He let that happen. His mountain that he had worked so hard on to create had been tarnished and it crumbled to a small dirt mound. Luckily, she was the only one to witness the crash.

"So in return," she said comfortingly. He looked up to her once again and found a strong consolation in her eyes. She kept the secret gleaming in the corners of her eyes. And no one could recognize it but him.

"In return, I'll keep that in mind. I don't think you want _everyone_ to know you as something you're not."

How could she sum him up in a sentence that told an entire novel? How could she look him up and down for one minute and see his entire life? Still, how could he feel so shameful that she knew?

He whisked his hand away from her touch and stood up from his seat proudly. His voice was cracking under pressure but he still found a small fragment of courage to tell her what he was really thinking.

"Ok!" he strongly responded. "I-I'll do it."

Bulma looked up to him as stared starry eyed with the secret at the corner of her eyes spilling from their place. "Really?" she squealed. "You'll do it?"

Bulma had more strength in the world to take the hammer she carried and knock his pride to pieces like that. "Y-yes, I'll do it," he heard himself responding again. He continued to make a fool of himself. But just as last night, nothing so foolish ever seemed so wise.

"Oh, Vegeta, I love you!" She threw herself upon him again and buried her soaked face into his chest. He felt the heavy panting of joy beating against him and he once again took his arms and wrapped them around her. The sweet and citrus scent of her air crept up his nose. The taste then slid onto his tongue and he swallowed it down.

"I love you too," and though again, a very foolish thing to say, it had never sounded so sensible to his ears.

Vegeta was merely responding and for the first time he had felt his end of the deal fall into place. He and Bulma weren't going to let go from each other's warmth for a while. But when they did, he would be ready to fall right back into them again.

_…I won't ever be too_

_Far away to feel you_

_And I won't hesitate at all_

_Whenever you call_

_And I'll always remember_

_The part of you so tender_

_I'll be the one to catch you fall_

_Whenever you call…_

**Android Saga**:

He felt uncomfortable being the only father walking at a steady pace that night. He felt uncomfortable being in a hospital in general. The white walls and sheets that covered everything with color blinded him. At times, he would see bits and pieces of chrome peeking out as the only color really distinct.

But it wasn't the screen florescent lights or the raunchy smell of sour illness that made vomit curl up in the pit of his stomach. It was what awaited him in one of the doors that walked along side him. They all looked the same but only one would lead him down a spiraling path.

A nurse dressed also in white with her pink hair pinned up in a perfect bun and an overly sweet face poked her head out of one of the plaster-white doors. Startled by her sudden appearance, Vegeta jumped back. Just then, her surreal bright pink lips spoke.

"Excuse me, sir?" she called to him in a sugary squeak of a voice. "Are you the father of Ms. Bulma Briefs' child?" He found his body responding to something entirely different to what he was thinking. He didn't want to go in there! But surely enough, he nodded his head.

"Well, come on!" the once delicate, sweet girl snatched him by the wrist forcefully and dragged him into the room. A shroud of even brighter lights crowded him and he winced as the rays of florescent tore at his eyes.

Then a sparkle of blue crept from the white darkness and his lids begged to be pried open to see the rest of it shining through. The ocean waves of cerulean were tossed about her flushed and sweating face. Though their skin made no contact he could feel her warmth once again brushing up the side of his cheek.

Her energy was feeble and elusive and there was a caution inside of him that dared not to breathe in case he would blow her into dust.

Vegeta took a small, vigilant step towards her and she looked up from her resting. Her arms were cradled around her soft chest, and for a distinct moment, he could see a second strand of bluish-purple hair draped around her forearm. A small but incredibly strong vibe thudded off the object that Bulma was embracing for dear life.

"What the fuck is that?" was all he could say. Bulma giggled a small tired chuckle and opened her arms to reveal him wrapped in a flowing blue blanket.

"Vegeta…this is your son…" she whispered. Her words carried themselves like smoke into the air and clasped his throat tightly until he felt the excruciating pain choke and swell his now fragile neck.

"My son?" he looked at her as if the doctors made a mistake. No, of course he didn't stick his penis up there! That was a misprint! But there he was.

Vegeta was afraid to look at it let alone stand a few feet too close. His skin looked as if it would shatter like glass at the single touch of a rough finger. And through all the fears of breaking the small child, he had never seen anything so beautiful or perfect in his whole life. From his peachy skin right to his aqua hair that curled at the top of his soft scalp, he was perfect.

"Vegeta…" Bulma had found him halfway through the woods. "Would you like to hold him?"

_WHAT?_ He said to himself. How could he hold it! He was coarse and hard. The brush of his skin on top of something so firm and gentle would surely rip every strand of flesh to pieces. But Vegeta walked closer to her and held both of his large arms to just see if it would happen and if he would get one feel until he demolished.

Nothing happened as the baby comfortable positioned himself into the palms of Vegeta's jagged hands. He was softer that he had imagined while staring at it from the other side of the room. It was strange how supple and petal-like the infant tended to look to the human eye and when he was cradled by something so violent and crude, he couldn't have been more comfy and secure.

"So, what do you think we should name him?" Bulma coaxed him into more things he refused to do everyday.

"How should I know?" he said roughly though still holding tenderly onto the small child with a smile.

"Well, we can't call it 'thing.' He has to have a name! And I was thinking…"

Vegeta perked his head up towards her with another suspicious look on his face. She could swear every time his eyes would wander through hers with that look, he was trying to find his secret that she knew and take it back from her.

"Well, I was thinking," she broke off, "That maybe, _you_ could name him."

"Me!" he stammered. Bulma nodded her head and waited for another response from him. Hopefully, by chance, the next word would be 'Joey,' or 'Daniel.'

There was no way to describe the tiny, tender boy that clung to his finger with a loving grasp. At least, not in one name that she had described. He tried looking a little deeper inside something he had just laid eye's upon five minutes ago.

His bright blue eyes screamed everything but the cold, hard, hate of 'Vegeta.' The marbles of blue wandered curiously about. Once or twice the boy scrambled from his place like he was trying to break free. He was so lively, so pleasant, so sweet and still refreshingly mischievous. The first name to mind was uttered.

"Trunks," Vegeta spilled.

Bulma looked up to him in confusion and at the same time disgust.

"Trunks?" she asked

"_Trunks?" _he asked himself. So many possessions of his flew out into the open air and Bulma got a chance to grasp onto another one. Why'd he have to say 'Trunks?' Did he still have time to change it? She didn't know the inside meaning to that name or who had possessed it before her very own child.

It was amazing how much power he had physically and still at this point in time he had no strength to spill a single word. His mouth was agape and his eyes stood cold in front of her. Then she had finally spoken to break the pain grabbing at his throat.

"I-I like it," she forced out. It was a strong urge to agree with him that made her speak that. Before when he had spoken no other language but profanity to her, she had gorged on the sweet pleasure to argue and find everything that would make him yell back. Now, it was different.

Bulma still wanted to learn how to pain him but in a different way. She wanted to learn everything now. His soul was spilled out of the floor for many moments in their relationship. Taking the core from inside of her, she wanted to overflow onto his and let them both mix.

Just to agree with him would pour out so much. Besides, she knew at least half of his character, how long would it be that he would keep up his other half open to her?

Another moment of pure, sweet silence was all she needed to look into his coal eyes and take the advantage, but just as she predicted, she saw the door to him close as soon as she took another breath.

"Bulma, I gotta go," he said harshly shoving the baby back into her arms. Bulma was startled by being awoken from her state so fast. He exchanged his pediment with her and while Vegeta walked away from her bed, she started to sputter her words also.

"Vegeta!" she cried. "W-where…where are you…?" she tried to spit out.

"I have to go!" he bellowed. He took a relieving sigh and turned back to her. This had usually meant that he was trying not to argue for their bond's sake. He kept his end of the deal partially well. "This is just…it's just…you wouldn't understand…"

"What part of it wouldn't I understand?" she burst out. She didn't want to argue, but the sweet taste came back to her tongue.

"Bulma…" his voice was so surreal when he spoke her name. "There are some things you'll _never_ know. And even if you did you'd…you'd never understand."

She wished the sound of his voice would resonate against the walls of the room forever. As soon as he finished, he turned his back to her and took the window to be his only escape. Bulma watched him fly off and sensed his energy fading away. Vegeta left apart of him though, and it still cuddled against her breast while in its sweet slumber.

Precisely an hour had gone by when another man came to the rescue by the turn of a knob. Yamcha peered in cautiously and let his eyes take a glimpse at her before he had wandered inside.

"Bulma is it ok if I come in?" his voice was a pleasant comfort to her lonely ears. She unwrapped the baby from his blue blanket and called him over.

"Come on in, Yamcha," she said softly. His presence was a friendly one that she had always kept in mind especially on an occasion like this. His vibe, though, had never crossed over the friendship boarder unfortunately ever since the ugly day they broke up.

Yamcha always had a heartwarming smile that lit up her room and it bore itself on his face as he walked closer to her newborn child.

"Oh my god, Bulma," he gasped. His tough exterior, unlike someone she had grown fond of, let emotion through his skin easily. "He's…he's…it's a 'he' right?"

Bulma giggled over her tired tone and nodded. She looked at the baby cradled in her arms and wondered if her unusually hair color gave away some femininity. A large hand reached down and felt it.

Yamcha rubbed his hand over the baby's soft head gently, then his fingers slightly trembled and he pulled away in fear of doing any damage. It was strange how a baby could make the strongest men succumb to fear.

"What's his name?" Yamcha asked.

"Trunks," Bulma replied nonchalantly

"Trunks!" he belted with the same face she had given Vegeta earlier. He had looked through her smile for a little while longer but decided not to argue as she had decided before. "Well, ok, whatever floats your boat, I guess. But…why…where did you…get_ Trunks_?"

"Vegeta named him," Bulma said coolly again. She wanted to whisper it or maybe have him not hear his name at all. It usually brought out the worst.

Yamcha scoffed and folded his arms. His look suddenly changed and he looked at baby Trunks with pity. Though she craved his peculiar reactions, this one made Bulma quietly enraged by the way he looked down at him in disgust. She couldn't blame him though, now he looked down at the infant and saw another man.

"Figures," he said coldly. "By the way, where is the father?" It took a while before she answered. She was in no mood to have an attitude with him for when she did argue, she felt a sour spurt crawl up her throat when they fought.

"He left," she said as coldly towards him as he had spoken before. "He was here before and he left. He only stayed for five minutes."

"Where did he go?"

Yamcha always found a way to make him look bad.

"I-I don't know," she still tried to look proud and in control of him.

"Bulma, if he's going to be a father, he can't keep leaving like this! He has to have responsibility!" Yamcha always found a way to make him look bad and make _her_ feel like she was his daughter.

"Yamcha, he _is_ responsible. You act like you know everything about him, but you don't!"

"I have a pretty good idea what he's like."

"Oh, I'd like to hear what you have to say," her headstrong attitude always won against him but she felt no pride or victory in his defeated silence.

Yamcha stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked towards the hospital window. Looking away was his way of saying that he had nothing to rebuttal with. She wished his smile would bloom forth again she found no joy in his ignorant self and found no pleasure in a debate with him.

Why did things have to be so awkward with him most of the time? Every time she would ask that to herself, she found the reason why they no longer shared their _own_ pact.

"Ok, Bulma, strait to the point, I really think you should break up with the guy. For the baby's sake, that is not the right father figure you want around the house."

His degradation left its mark with a small tear running down her cheek. Maybe it was still the hormones, but his constant scolding wasn't doing much for her invulnerability. She wiped the tear off with her free hand and looked down at the sheets so he wouldn't catch a glimpse of her weakness.

Yamcha still saw it. "Oh, come on, I didn't mean it like that," he covered up his ignorance with another plea of 'not guilty.' Yamcha came to her side and kneeled down to her level. He patted the baby on the forehead and smiled down into his mischievous eyes. His sweet turnover revealed itself again.

Still looking down to the baby, he tried to finish his battle. "What I meant was, I just can't understand how Vegeta can love you so much and at the same time leave you countless times."

Bulma's timidity disappeared and she found her strength to shy away from the covers and look deeply into Yamcha.

"Still," she whispered. "He always comes back."

"How do you know he'll come back this time?"

The memory touched her skin softly and she recognized the tender feel of his fingers intertwining with hers for the first time. He vowed to her his everything and he did a fine enough job of keeping it up. His word, once given to her, had always kept itself inside of her and found a comfortable spot to keep itself there.

They made a pact. She could imagine Yamcha's state of confusion though. It was a strange thing to conceive as a good idea. For years now, it had worked, and she had a feeling that he wasn't flying too far off.

And in return, she kept that feeling inside of her; for she had the feeling that no others, like Yamcha, could understand. It was her little secret and it was her part of the deal. Every day she would find more to him while his door was still opened and she would find more of her secret to keep. One day, she hoped to find his all.

Bulma looked to Yamcha with a gleam in her eye that seemed to hold the key to everything that mattered in the world.

"There are some things about Vegeta you will _never_ know. And even if you did, you'd never understand."

_…And I'm truly inspired_

_Finding my soul_

_There in your eyes_

_And you have opened my heart_

_And lifted me inside_

_By showing me yourself_

_Undisguised…_

**Saiyaman Saga:**

"Mom, you're going to tuck me in, right?" Trunks squeezed tighter to Bulma's hand as she walked him down the dark path to his room. His voice was so strong and confident during the day, what was it in children that seemed to shy them away from night?

"Why would I be walking you to your room if I wasn't?" she laughed.

"I just want to see you before I go to sleep…just so…"

"Just so what?" Bulma looked down to her child and felt a cold gust of fear in him that brushed up against her.

"Just incase you leave before I wake up."

The absurd things that children would say were cute and innocent but every one had a hidden meaning inside of it. Bulma couldn't find what was inside this one.

She gave a small chuckled and rubbed her thumb against the back of his tiny hand. "Now, why would I leave, Trunks? I live here! What would be my reason to leave all of a sudden?"

Silence filled the hallway until the image of a familiar door came to view. The two stopped at the frame and Trunks looked up to stare her down with, unfortunately, very serious eyes.

"Well," he whispered in his small voice. "Dad seems to do it a lot."

The meaning in this one very suddenly struck her chord and the wrenching feeling of guilt tore at her chest. She had to come up with an explanation before his young imagination came up with one.

"Oh, Trunks, he doesn't leave," Bulma explained in her sweetest fake tone. "He just likes to…get a lot of fresh air. You know he comes back. He always comes back."

Trunks looked down and Bulma felt the horrible gut feeling that happened when someone saw right through a lie. It stung her every time her own child looked at her doubtfully.

Before any more damage could fall upon the child's weak heart, Bulma swooped him up in her arms and gently carried him to his racecar bed. She wanted to make sure he made it all the way there. Trunks, though always a strong boy from his father's side, still seemed as feeble as the day he was born.

She laid him into the soft covers and pulled them over to the rim of his chin. Then as quick as her hand had left his shoulder, Trunks turned to his side and closed his eyes so that they would not open until the following morning.

Her hand hesitated from its spot. It stood in mid air as she wondered if it was a good idea to let go. Trunks had proven himself to have come from his father's side at most. Who knows how much of Vegeta was inside of him. How long would it be till he decided to jump out the window and not come back until the next week?

The bedroom door that opened a world of memories felt so empty at the same time. His presence was the match that lit up her reminisces. As she walked into the seemingly empty room she had the burning desire to smell the fresh aroma of recollections creep up her nose.

A smell did come to her senses as she neared the balcony and had felt the first touch of the nightly breeze. The harsh smell of burning ashes and nicotine teased her nose and called her forth.

Bulma drew back the sleek white curtains that stood between her and the beginning of the trail. Not to her surprise, the same follower showed up in the same place many nights before. He slipped the cigarette from his lips and smashed it into the concrete railing. He noticed her breezy scent but he would never acknowledge it.

"You're back…again," she whispered coolly.

"I always come back," he replied lifting his chin up a little higher to at least let her know that he was listening.

"Why so early this time?" she asked stepping a little closer into his privacy.

"I could tell you needed me."

Vegeta wasn't the one to answer with an honest reply. Earlier and earlier he would show up by her side and tell her he was going to stay a little longer. She always asked why. He never answered her. For the first time, she felt his turning a corner and running right into her.

Bulma walked over to his side and placed her back against the cold surface of the wall. Like him, she wanted to seem casual enough to not see him for weeks and still seem like her world had been turning fine without him. The pressure beating against both their skin was beginning to rise to an unbearable temperature.

"Is that why you always come back?" she blurted. "Because you could feel that I needed you?"

"Most of the time," he replied like the conversation didn't trouble him.

"Most of the time…what about the other times?" she continued to search deeper.

"You know the other times."

He acted like she knew everything. Part of it was because he didn't want to explain anything. The other half was that he knew that she had way more knowledge of him than he wanted. His wanting for her to automatically know never crossed her mind and she remained speechless.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Vegeta," she was almost scared to utter.

"You know," he never liked explaining. "Our pact, our deal, you wanted me to always be there."

How could she be so senseless into thinking that he was too cold-hearted to comprehend the bond they had created many years ago.

"Oh, right," she didn't think how she would sound when saying that. Now, to him, it seemed like the bond meant more to him than it did to her.

"I don't know what makes me come back," he broke out. "I don't even know what makes me leave either. I guess I…I'm just nervous. I'm not SCARED. I'm just nervous. I wasn't planning to build my life around this…around us."

Bulma slid her hand down to her side and firmly grasped his fallen hand.

"When we swore, I didn't ask you to give your all. I made it very clear that you didn't have to pour you life into Trunks and I."

Night's gust ran up their backs and drifted their conversation into the wind. Suddenly Bulma forgot what she was talking about. All she saw was Vegeta finally looking her in the eyes with a different color other than cold black.

"Bulma," so sweetly it sounded when he finally spoke her name. "I…sort of…want to."

_…And I won't ever be too_

_Far away to feel you_

_And I won't hesitate at all_

_Whenever you call_

_And I'll always remember_

_The part of you so tender_

_I'll be the one to catch your fall_

_Whenever you call…_

Vegeta stood at the frame of the door, studying the way she would slip on her clothes or how her fingers would brush threw her hair compulsively. She had always used his constant worry as blackmail saying that she knew so much of what was inside of him. Now, he tried to find her.

Bulma was a wall that overpowered even his own tough exterior and the more he pushed against her, the more she pushed back. At times, he wondered what she pushed back with. Whenever she would stare with her curious eyes, he was never really sure she knew much. Her eyes scurried about through him still looking.

Maybe she was bluffing. Bulma hunches her words and carries herself about poorly with no poise. At least she could _try_ to act confident to her claim

"_You're so cold to everyone around you," she almost giggled like it was a laughing matter. "But last night, there was something really…sweet about you. It's like this prince of all Saiyans that wants to destroy everything in sight doesn't really want to harm anyone or anything."_

It was his only evidence that she knew of the shell that enclosed him. But since that day she had said nothing. Maybe the Vegeta she had discovered had suddenly vanished from her view and the real him became like a lost child to her. Bulma knew she had lost that certainty and she pretended she wasn't looking for that Vegeta she had found that one night.

Vegeta watched her slip her earring through the small hole in her ears and look herself up and down into the mirror's reflection. She wasn't looking at herself; she was looking at him with a faint look from the corner of her eye. The indication that he needed to prove her deceit had been exposed to him.

"_I'm still trying to figure you out," she grinned mysteriously._

Yes, Bulma, you still are.

"Bulma?" he heard himself calling to her more harshly than he had rehearsed. Bulma swung over to him and seemed distressed like she had been caught in an act.

"Yea, hon, what is it?"

"This might seem strange to ask but, do you think we know each other pretty well?"

Bulma chuckled and brushed the question off her shoulder. She had no clue the trap was being set.

"Well I don't know how well you know me, but I think I know you pretty damn well!" she laughed and went back to gaze into her reflection. Vegeta seized to laugh as well.

"Tell me about myself," he said in an abrasive murmur.

Bulma met him once again but her mouth stood agape. That morning, she finally climbed inside his mind and found out apart of him; and for her first fact, she knew that this was a trick that had been played out as her offense.

"Vegeta, what are you talking about?"

"You can't answer that can you?" his mummer grew louder and his voice bellowed tearing her stomach apart. Bulma took a deep breath and exhaled her answer.

"…I'm not in the mood for this right now…I…"

"Bulma!" the bellow raised itself above her and now he was yelling with a tone that trounced her. "How many times have I kept my end of the deal? Now I want to hear your half! Tell me that you understand a least what I'm saying!"

Her mouth was buttoned closed and not even the sound of her breath escaped her. The silence was louder than anything his ears had eve conceived and at that point he would be glad to rip them off just so he couldn't hear anything anymore. The idea that that was truly her answer was all he needed to reply.

"That's what I thought," he mumbled. Vegeta looked down at his feet and wondered if they could drag him out of here with the weak strength they had at the moment. Then he looked up again and saw her still standing with her silence reverberating around him.

"There's really nothing inside you, is there?" strange question coming from an empty man. "Just like you really see nothing in me; this bond really has nothing in it. We're supporting it on nothing….this whole thing was…just STUPID!"

"Vegeta, don't say that!"

Finally she appears only with the strength to argue.

"No!" he growled clenching his fists. Vegeta was finding more than courage to walk up a few inches from her face and stare her down with his fire eyes. Anger was beating off of him like beads of sweat and as she felt the heat rising between the small spaces between their bodies, she wanted to dry him off, if she could get the chance.

The only sound was the faint breath they exchanged as they looked through each other's eyes. Then he said something that she hoped he would never express.

"You're just a lonely bitch," he whispered to her but her ears bled with the pain of his silent screaming. "You just wanted a gullible man to make you feel and look good. The weak son of a bitch made you look like a child so now you just want someone YOU could control and make THEM feel the same way! You just wanted to take control of me! You only made that pact thing so you could pretend you held something for me but you really had NOTHING in the first place!"

"It's not like that. Please just…" Bulma could feel the unwanted tears run up her dry throat.

"I'M NOT FUCKING FNIISHED!" he screamed. "Once you realized THAT wouldn't last long you decided to get something you REALLY had against me. You just thought 'oh, I'll have a baby! Then he'll have to stay FOREVER!'"

The boulder in her throat swelled until she was drowning in her own tears and pain. Bulma gulped down the agony he fed her and still it would not sink. How could she speak when her mouth was full with torment at the moment? She had to say something.

Bulma let her body do the work and she slid her hand up to his just incase he decided to run off, she could catch him.

"Please…Vegeta…stop it…" she whimpered

Vegeta's voice soothed again but the anguish that subjugated his words did not seize to be. "You can't prove me wrong…so that means I'm probably right."

Vegeta pulled up his grasped hand and pried away hers. He shoved it back to her side so it could stick there.

"I don't want to be part of this…fake…_pact_ or whatever it is." Vegeta walked away from their body warmth and turned his cold back to her. He took the door in his hand and was about it slam it so the sound to revolve around the room. He stopped and took one last look over his shoulder.

"Bulma, I gotta go," he said it the same way he did in his old routine.

"You'll be back," she tried to say with a smile. "You always come back…"

"That was when I thought I had something to go back to. I don't feel anything anymore."

Vegeta slammed the door taking the only part of him she found so tender.

This time, Vegeta would fly a longer distance than usual, until he was too far to feel her.

"Bulma!" Gohan cried from outside the Capsule Corp. door. His fist almost ripped until bloody raw as he pounded on the metal entrance. "Bulma, um about the suit you gave me…" he tried to yell through to her just in case. "Well, it's sorta...well I kind of…well; it's broken…um can I come it? Bulma?"

"Oh, Gohan, you're such a wimp!" Chichi pushed her son aside and banged on the door even louder. "Bulma, what are you doing trying to encourage my son to fight flipping crime! You open up right now! BULMA!"

Too late had Chichi expected Bulma to swing open the door. The metal entry swerved back and left Chichi's raw fist dangling in air. Chichi looked up to see Bulma standing over her. She stood up strait and brushed herself off before taking a good look at her good friend.

"Finally!" she scoffed. "I was beginning to think you were dead in there! You…" Chichi finally locked gaze with a tear soaked, red eyed Bulma who was trying her best to quiver a smile.

"Bulma, are you alright?" Gohan asked astonished.

"Oh…oh, dear, what's wrong?" Chichi had succumbed to her guilt and placed a gentle arm on her shoulder. Bulma didn't have to utter a word as the three walked into the living room and very carefully set their own host on the couch.

Small whimpers and quick inhales of breath was all that went in or out of Bulma's mouth. She placed her fingers up to her lips to try and train her tongue to fall into place but the more she tried to come to her senses, the more she would find herself bawling again.

Chichi took a seat by Bulma's side on the couch and soothed her by brushed her arm up and down her friend's back. Gohan stood and stared down at her hoping that if he were silent enough she would bring up her courage to speak.

Chichi hushed her and many times control her tears although she couldn't physically dry them from the inside.

"Bulma…shhh…try to take a deep breath. Now, what happened?"

"He…he…" Bulma gasped

"Who's he?" Gohan asked. "Vegeta?" he did his best to try and finish her sentences while she was incapable. Bulma nodded her head ferociously.

"What did Vegeta do?" Chichi asked getting sterner.

Bulma finally found the wind from inside her chest and took a deep gulp. "Vegeta…left…" he breathed.

There was a mocking silence and the two had no fatal reactions to give her. Chichi actually gave a smile and patted her shoulder playfully.

"Oh, come on!" she laughed. "Vegeta _always_ 'leaves.' It's just a habit for him now. You know he'll come back!"

"No!" Bulma cried clenching her fists. "This was it! This was the last straw! We had this huge fight and he called me…he called me a lonely bitch who was using him! When I tried to tell him he was wrong, he wouldn't stand to listen and he left! Of course I told him he would come back…but…h-he said…not this time!"

Gohan looked to his mother for more encouragement. Just as Vegeta had taken the breath from Bulma, Gohan stood as speechless as her. Chichi's mouth was pried open with disgust and the look of complete rage flushed her face.

"Oh my god!" she cried. Her fists clenched the sides of Bulma's shoulders and almost squeezed the bone out. Bulma choked and bawled right back into the palms of her hands.

"Do you think he meant it?" Gohan questioned timidly.

"Of course he meant it!" Chichi yelled right back at him. "Vegeta's a horrible man! You know what? You don't need him! Bulma, you're WAY out of his league! No way would a GOOD man call the one he loves that, let alone leave her for the millionth time!"

A spark of a completely different emotion came up to her tears and she realized she didn't know why she was crying. As she lay there in Chichi's arms playing the victim role, she suddenly recognized what Chichi was saying…what _she_ was saying. Vegeta wasn't like that. She had him all wrong.

Vegeta _wasn't_ a horrible man. Sure, he was cold and sometimes rude and aggressive, but she had seen the true him. That tender area underneath the hard core of him was more gentle and affectionate than anything she had ever seen or felt. She had witnessed it.

Right at the moment when he had asked her to prove it, she noticed that she let it wander through her mind and loose itself under all her worries. Bulma had forgotten what she had felt and her consequence was fair. Maybe he was right to leave.

It was her job to always remember and to always stand by him when people, like Chichi, would say things like that. Because she stood as his only witness, she had the duty to love him for that and she failed miserably at it. She was more worried about _him_ keeping his end of the deal.

While contemplating this thought she realized her role was still into play and Chichi and Gohan were arguing what to do while Bulma was still cradled in Chichi's arms.

"The tournament's in a week! Goku will be there! He's sure to come back, mom!" Gohan argued.

"I'm not worried if he'll come back of not! I'm just worried that he'll keep doing this to her! Maybe he's better off dead!" Chichi screeched.

Bulma didn't bother to come out of her emotional state. All she could do was think about him as she thought much better when being held.

_I'll wait for you, Vegeta_, she thought. _I don't care if you come back or not…I'll keep waiting_.

As time would pass, she would plea for another chance. If he would just come home and ask her the question, she would proudly answer. The torment she put him through earlier was too much for him to take. Vegeta, even as one of the strongest men, couldn't have taken that easily from the one he loved. Truthfully, he was fragile.

She'd keep waiting for him. And if he came back still a broken man, she would be glad to fix him and mend their shattered ways. To do anything to mend the bond they had would be her goal for as long as she lived.

Until the day he would come back

_…And I will breathe for you each day_

_Comfort you through all the pain_

_Gently kiss your fears away…_

**Kid Buu Saga:**

"…Vegeta?" she called out to the empty air. Screams and cries joy surrounded her with mixed signals and she didn't know what to believe when word got out that the men had won.

"They're alive!" she heard Krillen yell.

"They're coming home!" cried Chichi

"They defeated Buu! He's dead!" another unfamiliar voice came

"It's finally over!" and the cries kept pouring into her.

Bulma had heard these sounds hours ago and still they replayed as loud as she had first heard it. Could the ringing in her ears be just an illusion? Those sounds seemed like someone was screaming them inches away from her eardrum every five seconds.

A long time after it had first gone through her and lifted her spine ten feet tall, she had finally responded to them. The first words had sprung from her mouth as a tiny whisper. All she could say was his name, his name that spoke a thousand words.

"Vegeta…" she whispered to the sky. "…I love you."

"Hey guys!" A friendly voice rang through the ears of everyone at Dende's tower. Bulma gulped down a huge breath of air and felt her heart plop down to the pit of her stomach. Goku stood just a couple footsteps away from them, with the smile he had worn his life not tattered or torn in any way.

Already could she see Chichi running up to him with open arms and the gleam of pure joy in her eyes. She wished she could hold the feelings that her friend had at the moment, but at the time, Bulma could feel a combination of apprehension, exhilaration, joy, and unfortunately…pain.

For when she searched for the eyes she longed to lock with, all she could find were the gleaming faces of everyone's happiness and thrill that the heroes had returned home from their long journey. The light on everyone's faces weren't going to making her happy; they were making her anxious for something entirely different.

Then she saw it. He was the mountain in the middle of the sea. His eyes did not spark the same way the others' did but they lit up with a higher flame than she had ever seen.

Just a little nudge through the crowd was all she needed to isolate him finally. She didn't need to draw attention to herself and him. They were fine as long as they were aware of each other.

Love is just a casual thing, right? No need to dress it up into something fake.

Then what was the feeling that she held in her legs that sprinted up to him and leaped into his arms? As she neared closer, Vegeta welcomed her with open arms into the warmth they shared when they pressed up against each other's chests and swung their arms around one another so that their grasp could not pry away.

"Bulma…" he whispered to her ear. The sound was so light and soft that it would be impossible to even see his lips moves. But he said the name she thirsted for him to say and express his soul into every letter.

"Oh my god," was all she had to reply to him. She grabbed him by the shoulders and held them tight just like she was holding him up with every bit of energy in her. "Oh, Vegeta," she cried, finally achieving the joy she knew Chichi felt when she had run into Goku's strong arms.

"I LOVE YOU!" she cried to all breathing beings around her. Love was more than extravagant and everything to be celebrated. And although there is a wish deep inside that everyone didn't make such a big deal, the whole team was aware of their caressing and smiled lovingly at the two, it _should_ be something that you can yell to the world.

Vegeta blushed under his rough surface but still softened up to smile at her and bring his lips inches away from hers.

"I came back…" he smiled.

"…again," she finished.

They sat with their legs dangling together at the edge of the tower. The sun was a bright orange and auburn with a magenta highlight brushed over the top of the highest clouds. Everyone stayed just a bit longer at Dende's tower that evening to rejoice talk about their battle epics.

Vegeta and Bulma found that time to talk of other things.

"I _do_ love you, you know," he said like she was oblivious to things around her. Bulma looked down into the bottomless sky below her.

"I know," she replied. "And I love you too," she had said it too blandly for his taste but he waited for her as he noticed something creeping at the tip of her tongue.

"But, it's just a word, right?" She looked so shameful. "Love doesn't sum up everything between two people; it's just a word that people say. There's much more to it than that."

"Then why do you say it so much if you never really mean it?"

"I _do_ mean it," she playfully argued with him, just like they used to do. "But Vegeta, it's so much to put into."

He felt her words beginning to fall on top of each other and he knew that her throat would swell as soon as he saw the tears sprinkle the lids of her eyes.

"This is why…" she gulped and took another quick breath like he wouldn't notice that she was fighting back her emotions. "This is why I'm going to tell you…that…you don't have to stay when we get back home."

"Bulma, I'm here to stay this time…"

"But you'll leave again! I know it! All this time I've been trying to figure out why you keep leaving; and after that possessing incident, I've finally realized it. You've been trying to escape. You're so much more than what I'm tying you down to. I just-I just…" she couldn't finish and she felt herself succumb to her tears.

Bulma wiped the stray trickles sprinkling down her cheek and held her mouth shut so that she could say no more to make her look foolish. Vegeta lowered his hand up to hers and comforted her by rubbing her soft skin.

"Bulma…quiet…please," he hushed her. "That whole 'possessed' thing was… nothing. In fact, it sort of made me see something."

Bulma swallowed the remaining tears and perked up to listen. He was going to open his door all the way and she wanted to be ready.

"The reason why I kept leaving is because I didn't want to end up hurting you. I thought the more I was around you; the worse I made you feel. You were right about me from the beginning; Truthfully, I don't want to hurt you or anybody, not ever again. So that's why I ran. I just didn't see that I was hurting you when I was running. When I got possessed, I guess I thought that as long as I lived a life of death the way I used to be, in the long run, I'd leave far away so I wouldn't have to be part of your life."

Vegeta looked up to the red sky and smiled to it. "But now I see," he smirked. "If it'll make you happy for the rest of your life, I will give you my _all_. I will never move an inch away from you as long as your there to love me using the same meaning in your voice the same way you have ever since I met you."

"Vegeta?"

"What is it?"

"I love you."

She had his everything from that moment on. As they sat in their place for most of the night, he kept his word down to the bone. His hand never left the comfort that intertwined with hers. In return, at least she could say the words that he wanted her to use with her entire should wrapped deep inside them.

Bulma held the key to his heart and everything that came along with it. He stood by close to make sure she never threw it away. Though dusk set along the endless sky surrounding them, it seemed a new dawn was just arising.

_…You can turn to me and cry_

_Always understand that I_

_Give you all I am inside…_

How long had it been since he had come up for a breath of air? So much of the delusional steam had rising in his lungs that he had no recall to how long ago it was that Bulma leaned in to touch her plump lips with his.

Bulma was already pressing up against him in her natural, golden glory. Her bronze, supple skin was attached his broad chest; and they seemed to be sewn together for neither of them tried to peel from the grasp.

His back was resting upon the Egyptian cotton that formed to fit his arch perfectly. It had withstood the pressure that Bulma was already applying to his throbbing muscles.

Vegeta could feel the sweat beginning to rise at the surface of their skin and cloud the area with a steam that he had recognized from a long time ago. The water that shot down upon his back and scalded him with a burning desire was scraping his skin once again once she had laid his head down onto the pillow and her soft breasts upon his chest.

Their lips parted and he could feel the tension building up between his legs. He could feel himself growing and throbbing with a pleasurable ache. Bulma climbed on top of his groin and planted her area just at the edge of his swelling region. She relieved him of his ache. Slyly, she slid off his boxers and revealed his welcome.

Her moist, wet folds were brushing the top of his. She was anticipating and waiting until the moment he screamed for it. He could smell the desire beating off each other's sweat and the tangy, sweet scent of her readied cunt preparing itself to gorge upon him.

The pressure building in the back of his throat was speaking for him and begged for a greedy mercy. He _needed_ her on him, rubbing and humping his pelvis to the springs of the bed.

"Bulma…go," he rushed her.

"Tell me…you love me," she answered back.

Vegeta smiled and silently laughed. His strong, sweating arms reached up and held her small waist tenderly so she would respond with a small moan. "Bulma…" he whispered. "I love you."

Bulma smirked back and him and felt the urge to feast ever since he laid his firm hands on her fragile waist. It was time to put every meaning she had inside of her into every move she made. She placed her cool hands on his marble abs and lifted herself above his dick just so it swept the tip a bit with the aftertaste of her moist center.

She swallowed it whole in one bite, yet let herself slide down very slowly so she could feel every ripple squeeze itself inside the her walls. The, with a powerful shove, she bucked the first one so he responded with a groundbreaking moan.

Bulma rocked herself in long, luxurious motions so they both could feel the meaning she was putting into every inch she would ride. Bulma looked up toward the ceiling and shut her eyes tight with the fighting urge to overthrow her early orgasm. She had to last as long as he did even if it meant holding back everything she wanted.

Vegeta felt the same ecstasy that rushed through the blood of his veins many nights before. Still he had smelt the ripe citrus flowing through her wet locks and the luscious smell of her cunt oozing with his own mix. Bulma was perspiring dramatically and moaned like she had never worked anything harder in her entire life.

He decided to return the favor to her and grabbed her tender, juicy hips. Slowing her down so she was comfortable, he bucked her furousicously. Bulma screamed with delight as he moved up and down. The sound of his balls slapping against her sent a thrill up and down her limbs.

She had recognized the feeling from many nights before. It was time to cum, and she could feel, in the bumping that he served her, that he was holding back his drive as well. After the last hard shove that he sent through her, Bulma let an earth-shattering scream that was soon joined in by Vegeta's deep and heavy panting.

His head grew light and his limbs ached with the sweet and salty taste still clinging to the make of his throat. Soon enough, he could feel the memory of the steam from the shower that flew up his nostrils and he released another breath of smoke into the air. His eyes grew heavy and dark with exhaustion.

Morning had taken over the night sky.

_…And I won't ever be too_

_Far away for you_

_And I won't hesitate at all_

_Whenever you call…_

He hasn't left since. The nasty habit of his that once stuck to him like the horrible taste on one's fingers had finally been washed away. No more did he run when the kind presence came brushing up against him in any sweet way. Instead, they ran to him and he was proud to welcome them in his arms.

Bulla tugged the leg of her father and begged with her big blue eyes for him to take her up on his shoulders. Her lipped quivered with crocodile tears and she pouted her cheeks to draw her father to her need just like she had done since the day she was born.

"Daddy!" she cried up to him. "I can't see! I wanna see the place you and uncle Goku are going to fight!"

In one swift swoop, Vegeta lifted his daughter up high into sky and planted her on top of his broad shoulders. She giggled and squealed with delight. Her blue eyes gazed upon the Tenkaichi Budoukai arena that stood tall above the fairground as mighty as a giant.

"Wow, daddy!" she squeals. "I'm so high!" Bulla looked over the swarm of people that crowed every crook between markets and stands. Though the crowed pushed and thundered against the father and daughter who stood still as a pole, Vegeta held on to the little ankles of his daughter like they were his life.

Bulma stood not more than a few feet behind them but for the moment, she felt distant like the two were part of the dream she was finally witnessing in the flesh. It didn't take her long to notice that her assumption was correct.

Vegeta was a dream that she had finally made a reality. To think that something could start out so small and through everything that it goes through it could come out to be your whole life and everything it revolves around.

A long time ago they had made a pact that meant very little. It was a small amount of glue that held one night of fun from falling apart. Bulma and Vegeta look at each other from the side and have a good laugh about it now and then but they both know deep down that it was never really…a laughing matter.

They never knew that the smallest promises or the smallest bonds that they made could grow into what they have know.

Vegeta promised he would stay around the house for her. Now he dedicates every moment to hold her hand and ask if there was anything that would make her happy.

Bulma gave her word to never speak of a single moment of sweetness that Vegeta, the arrogant and proud prince, gave to her that one fateful night. Now she reminds herself of every kind gesture he makes and tends to making him feel like everything around him has the same love for him that she carries.

In the end, it all adds up to the once meaningless word that they'd use to toss around when alone. It was that love that nurtured something so insignificant and continued to make it grow into not just a pact, but a life altering promise that created the devotion between Bulma and Vegeta.

That love and devotion could never be overlooked as something irrelevant, even if it did start out as a tiny agreement.

_I won't ever be too _

_Far to feel you_

_And I won't hesitate at all_

_Whenever you call_

_And I'll always remember_

_The part of you so tender_

_And be the one to catch you fall_

_Whenever you call…_

Bulma comes up from behind him and delicately takes one of Vegeta's hands away from the grasp of Bulla's ankles. She folds her fingers with his and feels the warm heat against their palms that they recently shared often.

Vegeta looks to his side and sees her gracing his hand and swinging it along with hers. His thumb rubs up on the back of hers and he smiles sweetly back at her. The three continue to walk through the crowd and onto the path into the arena.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they walked through the crowd. Although a very loud sign of affection while in a public area, still did he not run away; for a new dawn had risen onto their little deal and it had never been stronger.

Though love has grown to be so much more, they still find the time to keep their ends of the deal. Vegeta will never leave her side and he will never stop giving his love to the only woman he cares for, and in return, Bulma will stay by his side as well and hold that very same special place in her heart for him.

There are so many ways to explain how the strange love of Bulma and Vegeta somehow worked out at the end of the finish line, but everyone seems to agree that there is _something_ between them that made them stick.

Maybe this little pact was the answer to their prayers. Though full of everything they had put their life into, love could've been made of the simplest thing.

Vegeta leaned into her ear and laid his whisper upon her gently. "I will _always_ be there to walk with you," he said tenderly. Bulma answered back as she leaned into him and returned his compassionate favor. She whispered, "And I will always be there to love you…"

_…Whenever you call…_

_**(Well, that was my story! I really hope you liked it b/c I worked my effing ass off on this one! (but I still luv you all ) Thanks for taking the time to read it. Sorry but I hate breaking a songfic into chapters so I put it ALLL in one place for all of you guys! If you finish reading it, tell me how u liked it and I'll post up another ONE OF MY STORIES! OH MY GAHH! I CAN'T WAIT!)**_


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