Unwanted: A First and Last

Unwanted


Chapter 9 - A First and Last


"Nexus struck you?" Vegeta's hand rose to gently touch his wife's bruised cheek, a sight that had distracted him momentarily from his irrational jealousy.


"I'm sure it looks worse than it is," Bulma shifted her head, trying to brush his hand away, clearly not willing to admit her pain to him. Unfortunately, Vegeta had no interest in humoring her pride.


"You need something cold placed on that, it's swelling," he insisted as he guided her over to the bed to have a seat. Ignoring her protests, he ordered her not to move a muscle as he disappeared from the room only long enough to have one of his guards fetch him some ice. When he returned, to his surprise, she had in fact followed his instruction and remained sitting dejectedly on the bed. Her palms were circling one another as they rested on her lap, her head down, and a blatantly pensive look upon her face. No doubt where her mind was centered, Kakarrot, the lucky resurrected bastard. "The ice will be here in a moment," Vegeta advanced upon her still dazed figure. Kneeling in front of her, he placed a second blanket he had acquired on his brief excursion over her exposed legs. Pressing his hands on either side of her thighs, he captured her fallen gaze as he asked her to describe to him, "What happened with Nexus?"


Her account was brief, leaping from the moment she had regained consciousness to Kakarrot's saving of the day, but something about the way she skimmed over her interlude with Nexus in the carriage disturbed him. Stating that they had argued and he had struck her was simply too vague for the king to determine exactly what had passed between captor and hostage. So in desperation to force her to open up, Vegeta inquired, "That does not explain how abducting you would have been of any benefit to him. He must have given you some clue as to his plan." Her eyes narrowed slightly, almost as though she had been struck and was staring down her assailant. Before she even spoke, he knew he would not like her answer.


"His plan was simple. He would have our marriage annulled so that I would be free to marry him." It was preposterous! Nexus might have been a fool, but he certainly must have realized the impossibility of such a plan.


Barely containing a chuckle, Vegeta shook his head. "His desperation to best me must have driven him mad. How could he possibly believe anyone would trust his blatantly falsified annulment papers? I would have charged his palace with a joint assault by our peoples sooner than he could convince anyone of such an illegality."


The fact that she was finding no humor in the scenario concerned him, but not nearly as much as her response would. "It would not have been a farce, Vegeta. The parchment he had was written and legitimatised by the same mediator who presided over our nuptials. All that was missing was my signature, yours, and we both know it was yours, was already scribed."


If a mirror had been behind his wife, Vegeta no doubt would have been able to see his entire expression pale. The annulment papers he had written just a few months ago had somehow found their way into Nexus' hands, and almost cost Bulma her life, all because of his damn developing desire for her.


He had thought it would be a measure of protection for himself. In the last two years, his passion for her had gone from mild to scorching. Nearly every night he slept alone, knowing her soft body was wrapped in the comfort of feathery pillows and blankets just next door to him; he dreamed of her. He dreamed of that night, the only night they had ever laid together, the only coupling that had ever meant anything to him. It was a night that made him experience emotions he would have never admitted.


And then he began training her. The sweet image he once had of her as a curious virgin had turned into a lusty fantasy of a strong, defiant woman who would submit to no man. His restraint had finally broken one evening when they had collapsed on the floor together, her body tumbling roughly atop his after a deflection technique gone wrong. The arousing scents of her perspiration and the few sapphire tresses from her loose braid that had fallen over his face had been the final breaking point. It vividly sparked the memory of their mating, destroying whatever had been left of his control, along with his promise to withhold any unwelcome attentions.


His hands slid around her back, trapping her against his firm torso as his lips devoured her skin. Starting at what had been closest, her chest, he hungrily trekked up her soft creamy neck until he reached her chin, which he intended as a catapult to those luscious lips that had been haunting him for years, when his affections were finally halted by a violent shove from the woman above him. She chose not to say anything as she scrambled to her feet. She merely offered him a horrified expression of disgust as she turned away from him and left his sunken figure on the floor, furious with himself for his lack of control.


Though they continued as though nothing had happened, a silence Vegeta had been grateful for, he heeded the warning he was dealt. Somehow in the last few months, or perhaps longer, he had found himself less indifferent to his wife than he had ever intended to be, a sentiment that scared him into having the annulment prepared. He knew their union would in a matter of months be coming to a close. His forces had finally rebuilt in strength, and his batsu along with that of the Tomabatsu was finally synchronizing. Nexus' days were numbered, which meant he and Bulma would have no need to remain in their sham of a marriage. It had been a thought that invoked a surprising amount of irritation in Vegeta's psyche.


He had grown accustomed to having the fiery woman around. Seeing her sit across from him every evening at dinner, training her at night and most shamefully, knowing she was in the chambers next to him invoked some sense of rightness that had begun to make him question whether or not ending their marriage was a wise choice. But it was. Even if he had his doubts, he knew she did not, and he was not about to take her freedom from her any more than he already had. So he signed the annulment papers, ensuring that when the time came, and their marriage would have to end, it could be done peacefully, without a second thought or protest that his insane mind had been concocting.


After signing them he had tucked them away in a locked chest in his private chambers. How they were found, and how anyone gained access to his room meant heads would roll, but right now blame seemed of little importance. He had to take responsibility for his actions, and though he thought signing them had been in her best interest, Vegeta could tell by the infuriated gleam in her eyes that she would not see it that way. And since he was certainly not about to admit his true reasoning for having the documents preemptively scribed, this dialogue would without a doubt get worse. "Bulma-" A knock sounded at the door and the soldier he had sent to retrieve some ice for her bruised cheek entered.


Once the third party was dismissed, Vegeta applied the ice to her tender flesh. His jaw tightened as he watched her wince at the pressure. There would be hell to pay the next time he laid eyes on Nexus. "Do you have any other injuries?" The king wondered why he had stupidly not thought to ask her earlier.


After some hesitation, most likely debating whether or not she should tell him the truth, Bulma shook her head. "Just a few bruises and a chill; I should be fine by tomorrow."


"If you are still cold, I can get you another-"


"No," she took the ice from his hand and began holding it against her cheek without his aid. "As I said, I am fine. What we need to be discussing right now is not my health, but what is no doubt predominant on both our minds. Kakarrot."


Vegeta wanted to scoff. His revived brother was most certainly not predominant on his mind; his wife's safety, Nexus' slaughter, and then learning more about his kin's disappearing act. But it seemed Bulma's priorities were very different.


"Fate has blessed each of us with a gift tonight, Vegeta. You can finally have your war, and I can be with the man I love. This nightmare we have been sharing is finally over. So you can stop pretending like you care. You do not have to finagle me into anything; I have wanted this annulment just as much as you, so let us just cut through all the bull and be frank. Once we return to the castle you can have another one of those annulment parchments written and we can sign it and then I can marry Kakarrot, so you retain the Tomabatsu army and can go off to seek that final glorious battle you have no doubt been dreaming of for the last two years. It's a scenario better than what we could have ever hoped for."


The excitement in her voice made him nauseous. He imagined her pleased with the prospect of parting from him, but this elation was just cruel to press upon a man's sensitive ego. "Right," Vegeta chose to answer neutrally as he rose to his feet and began slowly pacing the chambers, trying to determine why this news upset him. She was right. He had frequently stated that he wished his brother had survived, if for no other reason than to take his banshee of a wife off of his hands. But as much as it pained him to admit, the banshee had become, well, his banshee, and the thought of his brother taking her from him seemed, well, wrong.


"I do not want to sound ungrateful," her soft voice interrupted his musings. "I mean, for all the anger and disgruntlement that lies between us, you have been fair with me these last two years, a kindness that I will not forget anytime soon."


"You should pick your words more carefully, my lady. Your statement almost verges on a tender note." Though the comment had been meant in mocking, to the king's surprise, Bulma responded with further sincerity.


"I do not hate you, Vegeta, not anymore." Those words echoed through his mind as his chest tightened. Never had he imagined such a confession, but never did he imagine his brother's resurrection, and thus arising an amiable set of circumstances under which they could part. Part? Was he ready to part with her? For all the chaos he had caused in her life these past two years, a part of him had grown accustomed to her presence. The thought of her leaving him-no, not leaving him completely. He would still see her, only now on his brother's arm, looking at Kakarrot adoringly, swollen with his nephew.


Grinding his teeth, Vegeta walked back to the bed. Taking a heavy seat next to his soon to be former wife, he offered a surprising confession of his own. "I am... glad," he immediately wondered if the statement sounded as awkward to her as it did to him, "that your animosity has diminished, but I have to wonder if our immediate separation is wise. With Nexus loose I do not think now is the time to be dealing with annulments and remarriages. I mean, after all, we have put up with each other for two years, how much more difficult could a few months, just until Nexus has been swiftly removed, be?"


Vegeta was not certain why his body tensed as if expecting a blow when he made the suggestion. But much to his relief, it only took him a few seconds to calm as he realized by his wife's pensive expression that she was taking his advisement to heart. "Of course, you are right." She nodded her head after what had felt like an eternity of deliberation. "I am sorry, I suppose I was just so excited to see Kakarrot once more that I became narrow focused. Yes, we need to handle this carefully. We will wait."


The king nodded stiffly as he rose to his feet, clearly placated by his wife's response. "In that case, I hope I do not have to remind you how important my reputation is with my people. During this interim I have no desire to face any scandal regarding you and my brother, so as you carry on your affair make certain it is done as discreetly as possible. No more of this walking in on you two with little to no clothing on." It had been a frustrating command to order of his wife, but Vegeta had completed it without a trace of emotion in his voice.


Following his lead, Bulma rose from her seat, allowing the second blanket he had covered her with to fall to the ground as she wrapped her original more tightly around her body. Removing the ice from her cheek, she sat it on the nightstand beside the bed. Looking eye to eye with her husband, she carefully questioned, "Is that what would bother you? Kakarrot and I sullying your reputation?"


Vegeta's eyes immediately narrowed. Her facial expression had changed; an almost vulnerable innocence was now covering her bruised face as she slowly traced a path with her eyes from his to his lips. "I am sure I have no idea what you mean to imply by that."


And then with a clarifying blink, the expression was gone, and whatever honesty he briefly witnessed immerge quickly retreated. "Of course you would not," she finished with a forced laugh as she reclaimed her seat and the second blanket from the floor. "You know I am terribly tired, I think it would be best if I attempted to get some sleep." She turned her back to him and slid under the covers, giving him the distinct impression she felt embraced for some reason, odd.


"Very well," Vegeta quietly acknowledged her decision as he walked over to take a seat in a rather uncomfortable chair tucked away on the side of the room. Not a moment before he found a tolerable position to rest in, he heard an indignant hiss.


"What do you think you are doing?" Bulma twisted around to face her husband, her body well covered by the sheets.


"I was planning on sleeping," Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest as he attempted to restrain a smirk. He knew damn well his evasive answer was not the one she wished to hear.


"I am sure there are other rooms with comfortable beds you can be doing that in. So, if you do not mind, I would like my privacy." Not an unreasonable request, but certainly not one he would appease.


"My dear wife, I am terribly sorry if you feel your privacy has been infringed upon," his face was the picture of sarcasm, "but you were abducted today, and if you think I am going to allow you a moment alone while Nexus is on the loose then you truly have learned nothing about me over these past two years."


Her jaw dropped, ever so slightly, but it was enough for Vegeta to notice. It irritated him that she clearly was ignorant to just how important her safety was to him. With a low growl, she turned back over, mumbling about the hypocrisy of his choice not to escort her on a ride early that day before silently returning to being well tucked away under the covers. As he listened to her breathing calm, Vegeta felt a half smile pull across his lips. Two years married and this was the first time he would be sleeping in the same room as his wife. His smile fell as quickly as it rose. A shame it would also be the last.


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"Is that what would bother you? Kakarrot and I sullying your reputation?"What the hell had she been thinking when she asked that?! Bulma almost drew blood from the pressure her teeth were placing upon her lips. It took all her willpower to feign sleep while she felt severe agitation. What had possessed her to ask such a question? As if he cared whom she carried on with! The man was no doubt merely humoring her by saving his tears of joy at their separation until he could more privately display his jubilation. Of course he would not know what she had been implying; and probably best he did not.


An eerie memory suddenly materialized in the queen's restless mind.


A late night during one of their training sessions they had collapsed on the floor together, her body tumbling roughly atop his after a deflection technique gone wrong. She would never forget the eternity she had felt his arms around her. He was so strong, so secure that she found herself unwilling to part from the warmth of his body. And then the unexpected happened, his hands slid around her back, no doubt his intention to push her body off his, but she had not allotted him the chance.


Her fingers, under a mind of their own, laced through his wild ebony mane as she pulled him closer to her body. His lips found her heaving chest and before she knew what was happening, their bodies were fused together. His tongue had been hot, burning a trail up her neck, across her chin, until he was merely inches from her lips. That was when the reality of what she had started struck her. She was encouraging a man she had made swear never to touch her, but even worse, she wanted it. Perhaps it had been the adrenalin of the sparring match, or perhaps it was her loneliness or simply the female inclination to want the affections of a man lavished upon her, but whatever it was, it scared her, and so she had pushed him away while she still had the strength of mind to do so.


The look upon his face had been devastating. His breathing was heavy, his eyelids lazy. Lust. She knew the expression, she had seen it before in his eyes, and the horror of seeing it once more sent her sprinting from the room, not a word uttered as she retreated to her chambers, praying he would not follow after her to demand an explanation for her coldly retracted invitation.


To her relief, he did nothing. Not only did he leave her in peace that night, he did not comment on the matter the following day when she met with him for dinner. She had hoped it was a sign of his indifference, that his attraction was only piqued by the convenience of the offer. But the comfort was only minimal. The reality of her less than indifferent attraction made her fear what lay in store for her. If she could succumb to him once, there was no doubt she could again. And if she did-at best she would be used and abandoned, at worst she could become with child, and be bound to an unfeeling man for the rest of her existence, a fate she could not chance, not again.


No, she was not about to allow either circumstance to occur. She had made a new resolution to herself to be more unaffected by his presence. It was merely a mild case of lust she had developed, no doubt a result of her lack of male company thanks to her overprotective husband. She had managed to quickly convince herself that not only would such an occurrence never happen again, but that it had never truly happened in the first place, at least not while she was in any rational state of mind. A laundry list of excuses ranging from heat exhaustion to a repressed delusional desire to reach out to her deceased love through his brother had easily cushioned her sense of reason from the truth.


And then tonight happened.


Why she had wanted to hear it she perhaps would never be able to admit to herself, but she wanted to hear her husband say the words. She wanted him to be jealous. "I hope I do not have to remind you how important my reputation is with my people. During this interim I have no desire to face any scandal regarding you and my brother, so as you carry on your affair make certain it is done as discreetly as possible. No more of this walking in on you two with little to no clothing on." Perhaps it had been the insult to her modesty that had pierced her so deeply, or merely the accusation that she would carry on an affair while she was, at least legally, still bound to another, but something had created in her a false belief that there was more emotion in the request that he was making than he was willing to admit.


As she locked eyes with him, for a single moment, she thought perhaps there was something more inside him, something deeper he had grown to feel for her over the years. His mood had been very calm and understanding as she spoke of his brother. His touch had been gentle as he fussed over her injuries. But most surprisingly, his eyes, they hid more emotion than she could ever recall them pulsating with. So she had stupidly asked. She had given him the chance to confess a sentiment that her mind had no doubt concocted out of some twisted sense of one-upmanship. Their verbal war had been going on for so long; the need for a challenge had become reflexively constant.


But his response had been too cold, "I am sure I have no idea what you mean to imply by that." It could have been worse, he could have laughed at her, mocked her suggestion or even been insulted by it, but no, instead he simply pleaded ignorance. As if the concept was so far from his mind that he could not even contemplate it. It enraged her, it humiliated her, but most depressingly, it broke something inside her, a hope she would never admit to herself. What that hope was for and how it came to be there, she could not say, but it existed. She felt it when she had sunk back onto the bed, blinking several times as if tears would have fallen if she had not.


And then he had to stay. A chill ran down Bulma's spine as if she could feel his eyes on her at that very moment. Shifting the covers more tightly around her body she attempted to control her shivering. His presence should not be affecting her so. She should not even care that he was sitting stiffly in a chair watching her, thinking only the gods know what. Probably about his impending war, that would no doubt consume his mind for the duration of the following months. Not that she cared, of course.


The floor creaked; he had risen from his chair. Footsteps followed for a few minutes before they stopped, what sounded like, directly behind her. Another blanket descended upon her body. A strong hand lingered over her bicep after he finished evening out the covering. For a moment Bulma worried he had discovered her consciousness, but then she felt the bed behind her compress. He sat down, and his heavy grip loosened as he moved his fingers in slow strokes over her arm. "I believe I am going to miss training you every evening," he admitted rather oddly, his voice just above a whisper. "Kakarrot will treat you well." His train of thought suddenly seemed to change. "He will make you happy." His hand glided over to her hair. He stroked it a few times before finally admitting in a somber tone that reminded her of his first offer of marriage, "Perhaps I could have, if given the chance."


His warmth left her side; he was on his feet once again. A low chuckle echoed through the room as she heard him pad back over to his chair, "Then again," the same soft voice paused, as he let out a short breath, mostly likely having lowered himself back into the seat, "perhaps not."


There was no other sound heard as Bulma's eyes opened into the darkness, the echo of his suggestion too potent to keep them closed. Did he mean he would have been a good husband had she granted him all his rights? Was he suggesting that they might have had a chance if she had not been so reluctant? Or was it merely a joke, a statement of relief that he would never have to learn the answer to his hypothetical?


Biting her tongue, Bulma controlled the urge to turn around and ask him just what the hell he meant. But it did not matter, not really. She and Kakarrot were always meant to be. Once Nexus was under control she would have her happy ending. What might or could have happened between her and Vegeta was irrelevant. Their time together was over. She had a beautiful future to look forward to now. No more second-guessing, no more hesitation. This was her chance at happiness. It was time she took that one chance to embrace it, and never look back.


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