Cold Comfort

 

Sticky Situations

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z was created by Akira Toriyama and is licensed by Shonen Jump and owned by Toei Animation Co, and Fun Imation. I don't own the anime or Manga, only the idea for this fan fiction work and any minor fan characters not part of DBZ. I make no money from writing this fan fiction that means no harm to the series or characters.

***

 

Vegeta rued the day he had to wear human clothes more often. The infamous pink shirt and yellow pants combo rested on his bed, and he swore if it weren't the only alternative, he'd burn it. Another week had gone by since the car accident, and Bulma was determined to appear in public at the annual Capsule Corps company picnic. Reluctantly Vegeta had agreed to accompany her, only if he were allowed to have access to unlimited food and solitude while she entertained herself. He did not trust her behind the wheel of a car, so she often resorted to a limo driver. Or else he himself would drive the car.

 

"BULMA!" he yelled, digging through his dresser drawers. Not a hint or a scrap of spandex could he find other than some rather obnoxiously colored clothes in mint green and maroon along with tan and gray and khaki 'slacks' neatly folded. He tore through the closet, desperately searching for anything but what was presented.

 

"I swear she's punishing me. Either her or that idiotic buffoon Scuttlebutt," Vegeta cursed, using his name for Mrs. Briefs.

 

"Oh, you found the new clothes!" cooed someone peeking in as she opened the door.

 

"Where the HELL are my clothes!" Vegeta ranted, whirling on her.

 

"Now don't get your delicates in a twist dear. I simply took them down to be washed. Bulma was complaining about the 'man funk' since you left them in the GR the last time. So I simply decided to give them ALL a good washing…"

 

"But… I can't WEAR any of this…"

 

"OF course you can! I was able to guess your sizes," said Mrs. Briefs cheerfully.

 

"But… these clothes are… the most INAPROPRIATE colors for a Saiyan Prince!" Vegeta bared his teeth at her as he held up the shirts.

 

"Pish-tosh, they're all the rage! A handsome stud like you will knock the socks off all the other men! Why if I wasn't married… I'd ask you out…"

 

"I want my clothes back NOW!" Vegeta stamped his foot.

 

"There there, you can't go around in spandex. Maybe you'd prefer a nice pair of leather pants to show off that sweet backside of yours," Mrs. Briefs tittered. "I told Bulma she should have bought them… but the dear girl insisted you'd hate them."

 

"I HATE all these scraps of cloth. I REFUSE to wear them…" Vegeta ranted.

 

"Well you could just go in nothing at all…"

 

"Get out of here you low class vulgar… you're just as bad as your DAUGHTER!" Vegeta shouted, hurling the clothes at her.

 

"Oh my, I think someone's being a cranky pants today," Mrs. Briefs blinked as she took the clothes and tried to fold them neatly.

 

"Where is she?" Vegeta demanded.

 

"Oh, Bulma you mean? She's in the lab with her father doing lord knows what. If you don't like the colors we can take these back… what would you like to wear dear?"

 

"Blue and black of course! Nothing FEMININE," Vegeta glared.

 

"Well why didn't you SAY so?" Mrs. Briefs asked. "There's no need to get in a huff. I'll be happy to take you shopping… and return these."

 

"I'd rather just wear the pink shirt," Vegeta complained. "I've suffered enough indignity for one day."

 

Angrily he grabbed a white T-shirt and tugged it on. Then he pulled the pink shirt on overtop to button it. "You can LEAVE now. And you can leave the damn clothes…"

 

"That's a good boy. I'll be starting lunch soon. Could you run along and tell Bulma that we're eating in the arboretum today?"

 

"Humph," Vegeta grumbled, turning his back and ducking behind the bed. Mrs. Briefs gently folded the clothes and placed them in the drawer. With a huff of breath, he didn't know he was holding, Vegeta let his towel drop and grabbed a pair of black silk boxers out of the drawer. He pulled them on before reaching for the yellow pants. At least people had seen him in this ensemble before. If they teased him he could always blast them to the next dimension, he consoled himself.

 

Putting up with the ridiculous garments was infinitely preferable to being dragged around a crowded noisy shopping complex with two women rattling off at the mouth at warp speed. Some things were better to endure until his spandex was washed. Then he'd wear what he wanted. Grumbling still, he leaned down and grabbed both of the shoes that went with the ensemble. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he thrust his feet in violently and tied either one. Shoelaces were the bane of human existence. Moreover, they thought themselves advanced.

 

None of his white boots or gloves was visible. He guessed they'd probably been sent out for polishing. Running hands through his hair he struggled to preen and groom it into its usual configuration. If it were up to him, he'd just hole up in his apartment next to the GR and skip the trip he was supposed to undergo with Bulma. She had insisted on taking him with her on some damn fool company picnic. Bribing him with food was the deal breaker. Reluctantly he agreed to go, provided he could have unlimited access to his own share of the food.

 

"Stupid pain in the ass company function. But I comprehend the need for public appearances," he snorted, grabbing the wallet and watch from the top dresser. Mrs. Briefs had given both items to him, in order to make him more 'human'. Including the driver's license, he'd just gotten last week. He thumbed through the odd contents including the folded bills of Zenni that he'd 'earned' from helping Dr. Briefs test the spaceship. It was a loosely veiled excuse to give Vegeta spending money in order to help him retain his Royal Pride for not being given things outright. That and the surreptitious advice he'd given Dr. Briefs in improving the GR technology. He thrust the wallet in the back pocket, and then slipped the watch on his wrist. Primitive time telling device was simply another way to 'fit in'. He rather liked the fact that the Woman had given this to him. In a small way, it was a token gift to show her acceptance of their arrangement. At least she didn't pressure him with any other fool mating customs on this world.

 

The diamond studded Rolex gleamed brightly in the noonday sun as Vegeta exited the GR complex. Earth's lone sun put out a fair amount of heat, but it was nothing compared to the twin suns of his native world. Although he was only a boy of five when he left, the images were forever burned into his mind where he could recall them at any time. Only a few things made his stay here bearable, and one of them he was loath to admit had found a way to attach herself. Yet she had kept a tight lid on how things had changed, not pressuring him to move in with her.

 

"Me live with that jerk, are you insane?" he heard the Woman's voice in the distance. Vegeta smirked because he guessed he was the 'jerk' in question. Silently he levitated towards Bulma's distinctive voice chattering on that idiotic thing called a cell phone. Indeed, he could see her blue hair fluttering in the summer breeze as her slender legs swirled the green sundress around her knees. It had a loose skirt and almost translucent shimmering fabric and resembled a nightgown or underwear more than a proper dress. Creamy white shoulders were bare except for a pearl necklace and a platinum locket, which was heart shaped around her neck. Vegeta had seen her wear it often, but he couldn't help but wonder who'd gotten her the bauble.

 

From the front door of the limo, she strode, chatting quickly to someone on the phone. A moment's concentration and Vegeta hovered directly behind her, at a height of five feet. Bulma stood under the shade of the front awning of Capsule, out of the bright morning sun. Only a wide brimmed straw hat shaded her pale fair skin. Pink tinted sunglasses were perched on her nose, obscuring her blue eyes, and she seemed very interested in whatever the other person had to say.

 

"No Chichi, I'm serious. Who told you that Vegeta was 'living here??”

 

"Yamcha the last time he was by here seemed very angry. He came to spar with Gohan, and I couldn't allow that because Gohan was right in the middle of his math test. But he kept insisting that you were in some sort of trouble and that you'd broken it off because you were seeing someone ELSE… and then he said that horrible man…"

 

"I wouldn't lower myself to live in the same BUILDING as he does. He's a class-A asshole, Chichi. Make no mistake. All he thinks about is getting stronger. So you don't have to worry about me. I'm a big girl!" said Bulma, lifting her hand to peer at her fresh manicure.

 

Vegeta gently touched down behind Bulma, listening intently. "Chichi, I got to go. The company picnic is in a half hour and I have to see if my date's ready."

 

"Your Date? Are you seeing someone? You only just broke up with Yamcha… and if it isn't Vegeta…"

 

"Goodbye Chichi!" Bulma said, and clicked off the phone. She exhaled deeply.

 

"About time you stopped letting that harpy burn your eardrum," Vegeta snickered.

 

"Holy SHIT!" Bulma shrieked, whirling around with her cell phone raised. Her hand flashed out in a reflexive punch. Had Vegeta not caught it in his she would have clobbered him.

 

"Your reflexes are improving, Bulma," Vegeta laughed with a devilish smirk. Bulma's cell phone shot out of her other hand, and hit the driveway with a loud crack.

 

"My PHONE!" Bulma cried, seeing shards of plastic flake off as the small flip phone's innards scattered all over the driveway.

 

"It's useless anyway," Vegeta said. He raised his other hand and directed a thin beam of ki. Instantly her phone vanished in a puff of smoke and charred ash.

 

"You asshole, that was new!"

 

"Now it's one less expense," Vegeta cackled. "Honestly you speak loud enough you don't need one of those toys to amplify your voice to make it heard."

 

"Let me go, jerk face!" Bulma said, slugging his chest. She twisted her wrist out of his grasp, and Vegeta caught her next punch that she threw.

 

"Temper, temper. If I was a weak brainless human male you'd have broken my nose by now," Vegeta chided.

 

"Really?" Bulma asked, feeling the warmth of his hand curled around her fist.

 

"Indeed. The Saiyan Prince does not lie about such matters, Bulma," he said, feigning seriousness. "Now must I go to that wretched affair with you to keep the old biddies from gossiping about you?"

 

"If you don't you'll have to make your own lunch," said Bulma sweetly, leaning her face inches from him.

 

"Bitch, that was a low blow," Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Very well. But don't expect me to enjoy myself at this miserable pageantry."

 

"I promise you'll be allowed to go your own way, provided you don't blow anybody up," Bulma said.

 

"Dammit," Vegeta grumbled.

 

"Let's go. Since you're dressed nicely for the occasion," Bulma giggled, as Vegeta let go of her hand. To his annoyance, she slipped her hand through his arm and gently urged him towards her car.

 

"I'll drive that contraption this time, if you don't mind," said Vegeta.

 

"HEY!"

 

"I won't have you endangering the brat," Vegeta answered, pointing to her belly that was still flat. Sulking, Bulma let him drag her to the car. He opened the door for her, and she climbed in. Then he crossed around to get in the driver's seat of the silver sleek capsule Aston Martin 2000.

 

***

Soon they pulled up to a large park where large amounts of shiny cars were already arranged in rows on the sizable lot. Already Vegeta could see the tiny figures clad in bright orange, yellow or blue garments wending their way like ants up to the picnic area. He recognized Mrs. Pipeline greeting employees just arriving with her clipboard and a whistle around her slender neck. He had to admit she looked quite good in that orange mini-dress and culottes. Someone had set up a table covered in blue Frisbees and baseball caps bearing the Capsule Corps logo.

 

"Part over here," Bulma waved. Vegeta swung the car into the slot she indicated with contemptuous ease. That self-satisfied smirk did her proud. Both he and Bulma climbed out of the car, their doors slamming at the same moment. Vegeta reluctantly draped the blanket over his arm while Bulma grabbed her sunglasses and hat with the other items.

 

"Hello Ms. Briefs!" waved one of the other couples getting out of their car. It was Technician Infra and his young girlfriend Betty Bakelight.

 

"Hello Mr. Infra! Good to see you made it out here!" Bulma waved.

 

"Oh what a pretty dress," cooed Miss Bakelite.

 

"Bulma, sweetie hello there!" waved an older woman who climbed out of her van with several kids in tow.

 

"Dr. Melmac, hello. I see you brought the grandkids. Good to see you," Bulma smiled. Vegeta rolled his eyes and stood slightly behind Bulma, wishing he would just spontaneously vanish. Bulma's string of chatter about the middle-aged scientist drove him up the wall.

 

"Hello Dr. Briefs," said another middle-aged voice. A dark haired woman held the hands of two identical twins. Vegeta rolled his eyes, recognizing her head of R and D.

 

"Humph," Vegeta said.

 

"Um, hello your Majesty," Dr. Stellari said as she nervously inclined her head to Vegeta.

 

"AS you were, Professor," Vegeta grunted as he looked peculiarly at the scientist who had developed the plastic that coated his GR.

 

"Didn't expect to see you here, Your Majesty," Dr. Stellari chuckled. "Say hello boys."

 

"Hi, sir," Fermi and Bohr, her twins waved.

 

"Mph," Vegeta grunted. "At least some of your employees show the proper respect."

 

"Oh hello there!" Bulma smiled at her friend. "And don't these two fine young men look good today. High five!"

 

Both boys gave Bulma the high five, and Bulma leaned over to greet her scientist with a kiss to the cheek as many women did. Dr. Stellari turned to Betty Bakelight and gave the same greeting, while Fermi and Bohr went off with Dr. Melmac's kids.

 

"Where is that woman's mate?" Vegeta asked as he saw Dr. Stellari walking without a male accompanying her. "She has two brats but no sign of the father."

 

"Um well, she's divorced," Bulma quickly said. "Her husband wasn't the nicest of fellows. I've been trying to hook her up with some of my other employees."

 

"Humph. At least she does her job. Her brats seem to have respect as well," Vegeta muttered.

 

"You were unusually polite to her," said Bulma.

 

"I owe the woman some gratitude. If not for her, my GR would not be worth anything," Vegeta sniffed. "And you were rather familiar with her."

 

"I knew her in college. She was getting her PHD when I was getting my bachelors," Bulma said.

 

Bulma led Vegeta by the hand after she had grabbed a Frisbee and a baseball cap. Vegeta glared at her when she popped one on his head. Grumbling he allowed her to do so, figuring if he wore the silly thing he'd stand out less. Right now, he just wanted food and solitude. They strode behind the other company employees towards the three large pavilions erected for the occasion. Fried chicken, steak, hamburgers and other tempting treat wafted to Vegeta's nose on the breeze. Not to mention the aroma of beer and wine.

 

***

Vegeta sneaked off into the trees while Bulma was occupied with the character artist. For the most part, he'd managed to avoid the lunacy of the company picnic by either stuffing his face or sitting enduring Bulma's chattering with her co-workers. Yet when she took up with a long conversation with her co-workers Stellari and Bakelight, Vegeta decided it was time to make good his escape.

 

Besides, the beers were causing considerable strain on his bladder. He refused to use the foul smelling bathrooms the park provided. To ordinary humans the smells would not be noxious and the bathroom appeared to be clean. Nevertheless, his Saiyan sense of smell could detect even the slightest whiff of human excrement.

 

Bulma however noticed Vegeta wandering off. Frustrated she excused herself from her conversation and strode off after Vegeta. So single-minded was he in his purpose to get away he didn't notice her. That was unusual in itself. Luckily, she detected the spike of vertical hair somewhere bobbing in the bushes, and discerned his location. Not to mention the cursing and swearing that was coming from the shade of the bushes in question.

 

"Damn son of a bitch!" Vegeta cursed.

 

"What's going on now?" Bulma said.

 

"Woman… what the hell are you doing here?" Vegeta spluttered.

 

"Wondering what you were doing. Don't tell me you forgot where the bathrooms were again!"

 

"Mind your own business and let me be!" Vegeta's voice came. Then she heard the sounds of clothing rustling and a cry of anger and discomfort.

 

"Vegeta are you okay?"

 

"God dammit woman do I SOUND okay! You'd better be glad I'm not…" Vegeta said through gritted teeth. He sounded in pain.

 

"Oh dear…" Bulma swallowed hard, half wondering what the poor Prince had gotten himself into. "Can I help you?"

 

"Goddamn it… so help me if anyone comes within a mile I'll blast them," he grunted, his voice shaking. Bulma pushed through the bushes and saw the prince leaning over with his hands around the level of his waist. Judging by the way, he was bent over and the flushed nature of his face, she presumed the worse.

 

"Vegeta… can I help… you look like you're dying…" Bulma murmured, moving to avoid the puddle in front of him. Vegeta gasped as she rested her hands on his shoulders. Indeed his face was contorted in pain and his hands were poised on the zipper of his khaki pants.

 

"These goddamn human clothes…" Vegeta groaned. "This is your fucking fault…"

 

"Let me take a look," Bulma offered.

 

"I swear if you breathe a word of this to anyone… I'll destroy you!" Vegeta gritted.

 

"Shh, don't be such a baby," Bulma urged. "Now what's wrong?"

 

"I'm… stuck… because you startled me and I didn't want…" Vegeta trailed off. "Now it's that goddamn movie… something about… Mary…"

 

"Oh my…" she gasped, guessing the nature of his 'emergency'. He slowly drew his hands back.

 

"C'mere… away from the bushes… it's more private here," she said. Vegeta barely managed to duck walk to where she indicated, bracing his backside against a tree. Bulma's small fingers slid between his own, and she gingerly grabbed the zipper.

 

"Fucking goddamn…" Vegeta cursed.

 

"Maybe if we just…" she mumbled, struggling to see the extent of the problem. Judging from Vegeta's pain, she had to do something quick. Her fingers darted down the front of his pants and Vegeta let out a squawk of protest. His hand clenched on her shoulder painfully tight. Slowly she unfastened the button up top and tried to work delicate skin loose from the metal teeth of the assaulting zipper. Unfortunately, Vegeta's growling snorts made her wonder how painful this was going to be. Lightly she grabbed a small screwdriver out of her purse and started to tease the zipper apart from the bottom.

 

 

"Easy Vegeta… I'm just going to have to take this apart," she urged, placing her hand on his skin. Vegeta drew in great breaths, his pain increasing as he stood there on shaky feet. Bulma's hands worked as fast as they could to loosen threads, and then break the zipper on the bottom. Soon the pressure was off his skin as she worked the zipper loose from the other end and pried the halves apart. Relieved, Vegeta realized that he was not to lose any skin. Bulma gently rubbed the abused skin, and then he glanced down at her with a blush on his cheeks.

 

"Er… I suppose you'd want to um…" she mumbled, as he arranged himself back into the boxer shorts. Clearly, the pants were ruined, but Vegeta was far from caring. With relief, he slid to the ground and sat under the tree, his breath pulsing out in one long exhale.

 

"Woman, I take back what I said," Vegeta sighed, his face finally returning to its natural color. Bulma crouched next to him, wiping sweat from his forehead.

 

"You okay?" Bulma asked.

 

"Hmm," Vegeta grumbled, still letting the last shreds of pain vanish from his sensitive skin. Bulma's fingers still automatically went down to the abused area.

 

"What, you want to LOOK, woman?" he growled.

 

"Well... it was stuck… rather firmly," Bulma said, then gulped at how dirty it sounded.

 

Another sensation replaced discomfort and embarrassment as Vegeta felt her fingers shift on his shaft. The abused skin once trapped was moving with another need. What might have harmed a human did not stop a Saiyan's desire for long. Vegeta panted deeply, and Bulma sat down next to him, feeling his hands trapping hers there in the front of his boxers. "Don't tell me you want me to kiss it and make it better?" she teased.

 

"Mmm, I deserve something after that abuse YOU caused," Vegeta growled. Bulma shivered in nervousness.

 

"But all these people…"

 

"You owe me woman," Vegeta growled. He pulled her towards him, forcing her to straddle him with her bottom tucked into the triangle of his folded legs. Bulma yelped with protest as her hands were trapped on his groin only inches from her own vagina. The only thing separating them now was the moistening cloth of her light pink panties. She had forgone wearing stockings to Vegeta's delight, and the sight of that silky material peeking out from under that short skirt had gotten his blood going. Not to mention the soft sensation of her hands on his once imprisoned cock.

 

"It looks like you're not so injured as you let on to be," Bulma breathed deeply.

 

"Let's find out, woman," Vegeta growled, tugging her closer. Her breasts pressed against his pink shirt, and she was forced to sit on her own hand clenching his shaft. Vegeta grabbed her other arm and wrapped it around his neck, then raised his hips. Bulma's next yelp was swallowed by his lips angling over hers.

 

Bulma gasped through the kiss, feeling the tip of his erection poking against her silk covered crotch. Dewy moisture soaked the material and Vegeta felt the moistness on his own skin. A dusky female scene arose from Bulma's sweating body, increasing his pulse rate to a marathon thump. Her own heard pounded in her chest at the thought of someone discovering the VP of Capsule having sex in the bushes at the company picnic. Lightly she rubbed his shaft, and then felt Vegeta's tongue slipping into her mouth to conquer it. Her own lips moved under his, while her warm breath surged into his mouth. Possessively Vegeta's arm tightened on her lower back and pinioned her there while he grabbed the base of her neck with his other hand.

 

So insistently, was he pushing at her crotch with his cock that she knew that she couldn't control herself? It blew her mind how quickly he could arouse her with his voice and presence alone. Vegeta's eyes burned with hot possession when she broke the kiss for precious air. They demanded her immediate attention, and he growled, "I want you now, Bulma."

 

"Here?" she squeaked.

 

"Now," Vegeta growled, with a half purr rumbling her chest. Then he released her neck, to slide his hands between them. Shortly he squeezed her breasts, and then slid his fingers into her panties. Bulma whimpered at the invasion of strong soft fingers finding her clit, pushing the crotch of her underwear to one side. His hips bucked up, and Bulma's legs reflexively opened wider. His cock twitched at her nether lips for an instant before his arm raised her by the back and she slid down over his hot hard erection. The girth of him spreading her drove the breath from her mouth. Bulma was truly speechless, her lips forming a round O of pleasure and surprise.

 

"V… Vegeta…" she croaked as he snapped his hips up in three sharp jabs.

 

"Shh, your staff might hear what a naughty girl you're being," Vegeta purred. Bulma whimpered, then squeezed down inside. Vegeta's laugh was caught in his throat when Bulma attacked his mouth with her own. Frantically she rocked her hips downwards, trying to wrest control.

 

"Mmmph!" Vegeta grunted, thrusting sharply up for each tilt down. He realized this would be fast and furtive so he hammered upwards. Bulma's nether regions tingled as she was stretched and spread and impaled with each delicious stroke. Grunting through their kiss the two lovers clawed at each other's shoulders. Bulma's scrabbling hands almost tore the buttons of his pink shirt and shoved it down. His own hands pulled her dress down so he could have access to her swollen breasts. He leaned down and buried his face between them, his tongue darting into her cleavage.

 

If it were anyone else, Bulma would have slapped them. Only Vegeta had the right to do what Master Roshi and Oolong often fantasized. Her nipples tingled for his tongue, lips to suckle, and them and nip. As he feasted, he continued to pound upwards at an accelerated rate. Bulma hung on and let him have his way. Letting go he whipped off the pink shirt and tossed it down. Bulma gasped as he rolled her over and onto it. Now he was free to pound into her from above.

 

"Vegeta…" she cried, and then buried her scream in his mouth when he kissed her hard. Grunting he felt the clenching of her inner walls on his cock. Tingling pleasure sizzled between them both as he hit her cervix each time, its walls embracing and enticing his climax to release. Unrestrained he stiffened and injected his excitement deeply into her body. Waves of blue fire seemed to burn behind Bulma's tightly shut eyelids and she let herself soar.

 

A second or so later, she panted, clinging to Vegeta who was lying on top of her. His face was buried in her shoulder, hot breaths pulsing her neck. Sighing with delight Bulma let her pounding heart slow to a steady beat and her chest rising and falling against the solid weight of the Saiyan resting on her. Vegeta slowly lifted himself up braced on one arm and looked at her with a self-satisfied smirk.

 

"Humph, seems to be working quite satisfactory, wouldn't you say, woman?" he snickered.

 

"You… horny bastard," she panted, then kissed his forehead.

 

"You owed me. Now… shall we do this again, or can we go home?" Vegeta gasped, nuzzling her cheeks.

 

"Mmm, depends on how sure you are that you're not still injured," Bulma purred as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Vegeta laughed, and leaned down to kiss her again. The picnic continued without them, and it was much later when a sweaty and tired Vegeta and Bulma strode hand in hand from the trees.

 

This time Vegeta was glad for the pink shirt that buttoned and covered his broken zipper fly. A few safety pins fastened it in place, gladly provided by his lover who glowed with satisfaction. They wandered over and sat down at the place she had occupied. Bulma swallowed half a bottle of water that Stellari handed her.

 

"Have fun?" her friend winked, noting their flushed appearance.

 

"Humph," Vegeta grunted, picking up another beer and draining half of it. "I suppose this ritual is remotely tolerable."

 

Bulma made a mental note to invite him to the picnic next year. Yet by then she would have her own children to parade in front of the employees with pride. Now she knew that Vegeta was not adverse to his own brand of fun, the fear of his continued interest in her life was temporarily assuaged. He didn't have to bring her, but he did.

 

Perhaps it was not such cold comfort after all.