Sorry to take so long with this latest update. My mind works in strange ways because it jumped ahead two years to the androids. Yet I've done my best to pull it back to Bulma's pregnancy and try and fill in the time gap. After all this is a three years fic! I don't own Bulma, Vegeta or DBZ. It belongs to Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation Co. Ltd. This fanfiction means no harm to the anime or manga.

 

Chinks in the Armor

 

A Universe Apart

 

 

All Bulma felt like doing that night was taking a hot relaxing bath and going to her warm soft bed early. Shedding her clothes she left a trail from the main room into the bathroom. Steam filled the entire luxury spa sized bathtub indicating Bulma's long relaxing soak. Two sticks held up her silky blue hair: no longer curly as she had worn it a few months ago.

 

Her thoughts veered dangerously close to two men who had made her life miserable. One had clung to her for far too long while the other became cold and aloof. Both were extremes, neither meeting in a happy medium of companionship. While Bulma knew that having Vegeta around all the time would drive her mad, to be unsure if he would return was even worse.

 

"Is this how Chichi feels when Goku goes away?" she wondered. Crossing her arms over her bare chest she shivered at the realization. At least Goku loved Chichi, or so she thought. Yet in his own way Goku kept himself apart from his family to train in the same way Vegeta had done. At least Vegeta said he was leaving and made no promises he could not keep. She was not alone, for they had spawned a new life from their night of passion.

 

"One night of passion doesn't make a lasting relationship, but a child does," she murmured. No matter what, she had forged an unbreakable bond in flesh with the Prince never to be denied. All people had to do was see the baby Trunks and know for a brief moment Vegeta had let his guard down long enough to produce an offspring. Cold calculation in her numb mind spun all the variables she struggled to account for. On the other side of the equal sign flashing in her mind was a huge question mark.

 

"Vegeta plus passion equals Trunks. Attentive mother plus absentee father equals a son. Maybe it's better that Vegeta ISN'T here if he's going to be so damn cold. What kind of a father will he be?" she wondered. Bulma dreaded the answer. Did Vegeta somehow predict he would be unfit for the task and was THAT why he kept far away? Should she be grateful to Vegeta for separating himself from her and her soon to be born son for the sake of sparing her further emotional pain?

 

Whatever the reason, she knew it might work out. Despite her intense sudden loneliness, she had the freedom to accept or refuse. Would having Vegeta around be a curse or a blessing with a small baby? Still would he even acknowledge the boy as his own?

 

"If he denies me, then I'll deny him," Bulma murmured. "I'll show him I can be as cold blooded as he. My son will know his father, but only when his father is man enough to accept him as his son!"

 

With these words Bulma sealed the fate of her son in security. A large knife cut through the confused feelings developing for Vegeta, and the strange uncertainty of a child she had seen in ultrasounds. Where Vegeta was deprived of love, Trunks would be smothered with it. Then Vegeta would see that his choice to cut out would be fore the best. Still part of her hoped in some way that when he returned he would acknowledge the boy.

 

"You won't be alone. He'll be there for you when I cannot," echoed in the small bathroom. The words sounded as clearly as if Vegeta were sitting next to her. Bulma shot up out of the water, sitting bold upright. A ribbon of droplets splashed into the tepid bath behind her and she gasped.

 

"Vegeta?" she blinked, glancing around.

 

Bulma then gasped to hear harsh laughter behind her temples. Back and forth she glanced, standing up stark naked with only bubbles sliding down her bare breasts and hips. Leaping out of the tub Bulma bounded across the slippery floor with wet snapping sounds of feet sticking momentarily to tile. Large spots of wetness spread on the plush nap carpet from Bulma dashing around the empty large bedroom.

 

"Foolish woman," came the voice again. "To think you could get rid of me so easily?"

 

"Where are you! Show yourself you son of a bitch!" Bulma shouted to the empty air. Unmoved by her nakedness she darted to the balcony. Curtains swayed lazily before the shut French doors. Grasping both handles she shoved the door open and stepped into the frigid air. A thin skin of water still cloaked her skin, chilling her to the bone.

 

"You can deny it all you wish, but I am here," Vegeta again cackled.

 

"Vegeta, dammit show yourself!" Bulma cried.

 

"Only you can hear me," Vegeta's voice lowered to a fierce whisper. "Unless you want the house to think you're as crazy as I know you are."

 

"Son of a bitch… where are you?"

 

"Far away from your inferior planet, idiot," came the answer, with a derisive snort. "I see your mind is not as puny as the other weak humans if you can hear me so clearly."

 

Bulma suddenly gripped the railing of her balcony, glancing wildly around. Silvery light from the full moon beamed down on her, and she snapped her vision up to its hypnotic pearly orb. Clouds ringed the disc, not daring to slide overtop and eclipse the goddess of night. Covering her breast and her blue triangle of curls with either hand she blinked into the almost tangible moonbeams.

 

"You… you're with me… and I can feel you," Bulma gasped, shivering from head to toe. Closing her eyes she felt as if she had someone right next to her.

 

"I underestimated you, woman. It pleases me to see the connection is so strong. Your thoughts are quite amusing and loud at even this vast distance. Sometimes I can hardly sleep," Vegeta complained.

 

"In my mind… you mean telepathy," Bulma stammered, wiping away tears. "But what was this shit about not being here and HIM being here?"

 

"I didn't say HOW I couldn't be here, Woman," Vegeta snickered. "I assumed you'd be too weak to hear my thoughts through the link. As the Prince of all Saiyans I'm possibly the most powerful telepath you're likely to be in the presence of. How do you think I can communicate to my warriors without need of those blasted scouters?"

 

"But I'm not a Saiyan, dumb shit!" Bulma cried. "Why didn't you TELL me you could hear me! How dare you hold back on me?"

 

"You never asked," Vegeta smugly replied.

 

Wiping angry tears away, Bulma backed into the house again. It was far too cold to remain outside, even though she didn't care much that she was nude to the world. Nobody was around this time of night to see, still she gathered up her pink robe and tied it around her body. Now wearing fuzzy slippers she moved out to the balcony to gaze up at the moon.

 

"You're wondering why you desire looking at the full moon, aren't you?"

 

"I can't hear your thoughts," she murmured.

 

"You could a while ago, when you thought of me, woman," Vegeta answered. "Remember when I said I couldn't shut you out? This is evidence of that. I hadn't wished this to happen, but I see it cannot be avoided. We are alike you and I, no matter how disturbing that may seem. But unlike you I can control my thoughts."

 

"Then you know everything that I thought about you, you son of a bitch. I didn't want to have feelings… but I can't stop from wanting to hate you and…"

 

"Why do you think I left, fool?" Vegeta asked, annunciating the insult like a term of endearment. "The temptation to be around you could be a liability, not an asset! Did your kings of old not sequester their women and children into harems? You're the bearer of my male offspring. And as such, it's your responsibility to care for him."

 

"On Vegeta, raising children was all left up to the women, wasn't it?" she whispered, struggling to comprehend. A series of images flashed through her mind, and she staggered to try and absorb them. Vegeta kept the link open only on his terms, for she could feel a flat slab slam against her mind.

 

"Because we have mingled genetic material, we have a rapport. A link. And that is why you and I must learn self control. I cannot fight if I'm worrying about you hanging on me…" he said.

 

"I can protect myself, Vegeta," said Bulma.

 

"Can you protect yourself from your rash bouts of stupidity, woman? I cannot tolerate acts of recklessness. Although you bear my son you still must prove you can survive and be worthy of the honor. To live through the first two years of childhood and survive the birth of a Saiyan son will assure you of such…"

 

"But you mean others tried and died? Were they killed?"

 

"They died from the strain of birth. But I think you're too damn stubborn to die," Vegeta cursed.

 

"Where are you? How long will you be away?" she asked, squeezing the railing of the balcony.

 

"That is for me to know and you to find out. But know this, I will see my son once before I go off to fight the tin cans. I expect you'll be ready for my return," he said.

 

"So I'm supposed to sit and spin waiting while you become a Super Saiyan. Talk about being hard up," she muttered. "Does this mean we have a… thing?"

 

"Idiotic woman, we share an offspring. Though I hate the thought, mingled genes show a link to my bloodline. That cannot be removed. And the needs of the body can be fulfilled in other ways then your limited physical mating," Vegeta answered.

 

Bulma suddenly thought of Gohan and Krillen. Faltering images she flung towards the full moon, instinctively using it as a focus for her thoughts. Vegeta's presence near her strengthened her and she could feel and hear his amused cackle again. "Those idiots stumbled upon it. That is exactly how, Bulma."

 

"You call me woman, and yet…"

 

"You are THE woman. Bulma. And I will not deny my own carnal needs or yours during your sleep cycle. But don't dare interfere while I train, or I'll not hesitate to kill you when I return," Vegeta warned.

 

"How?" she asked.

 

"Stop asking stupid questions and go inside," Vegeta seemed to exhale in frustration. If she focussed hard enough she could sense a flickering image of him furrowing his brow impatiently.

 

Bulma's body tingled with hunger long denied. It had only been a month since they had sex together, but it felt like forever. All the emotions she locked up she struggled to keep in check, knowing and fearing Vegeta would deny her if she let him know them. Strangely she realized there were parts of her mind he didn't know, and kept those deeper impulses pushed away.

 

"Lie down and turn off the lights," came the next order. Bulma did so, still resenting Vegeta. Still she was curious about what would happen next. Across light years of space and time he was there in some form or another.

 

Bulma turned off the lights, and lay back on her bed. Up and down her breasts rose with each breath. Slowly a tingling shot over her skin, feeling like feather soft touches of a gloved hand. "You must focus Bulma if this is to work."

 

"How?"

 

"Didn't I say to stop asking fool questions?" he said sharply. "You're too damn curious. Now do you want to fuck or not?"

 

"A mind fuck?" she laughed, her whole body rolling back and forth. Relief poured over her like soft cooling water and she felt a warmth in the pit of her stomach.

 

"Can you feel this?" Bulma thought, slowly bringing her hand up to rub over her silk covered body.

 

"What do you think?" Vegeta answered, his breath a bit fast. Slowly Bulma undid her robe, and tossed the halves back. Both her hands gently cupped her soft breasts, giving them soft squeezes. Crossing her arms she gently flicked both nipples, then circled the darker areolas.

 

"Do you like what you feel?"

 

"Continue," Vegeta rasped, a low growl in his thoughts now. "Play with yourself. I know what you do when I'm not there…"

 

"Pervert!" she snorted. Vegeta laughed again, and she continued to fondle her breasts. Through every touch of her body she sensed Vegeta in some far-off place, laying across a rude bunk in a ship. For a split second she saw herself looking up at a curved ceiling and a central pillar, while stars slid past high circular portholes.

 

"That's it…" Vegeta growled. "Think of nothing else. But how much you want to fuck me, and how I'll make you scream for me."

 

Bulma willed her mind to focus on the soft pinches she gave her nipples. Then she released one hand to slowly slide down her curved belly. Snaking through the triangle of wiry blue curls she moved her fingers to her clit. Moisture pooled between the lips of her vagina, and Bulma curled onto her left side to reach more carefully. One knee down and the other up she moved long manicured nails along the rim of her core.

 

Light years away Vegeta stood in front of a floor length mirror. Slowly he pulled of his gloves, one by one and smirked at his reflection. For a minute Bulma's features were superimposed on his own, and he could glimpse her making soft little cries as she rubbed her clit with well practiced hands. Vegeta caressed the flat planes of angular muscle at the same time, making sure to send every sensation of velvety tan skin towards Bulma.

 

As his other hand slid down his cock, he gave a sharp laugh. Slowly, deliberately he stroked his fingers down his length. The shaft quivered, and then began to engorge with blood in his large strong hand. Ever so teasingly slow he glided his penis through the improvised sheath, willing himself to believe it was Bulma he thrust into.

 

Bulma's eyes snapped open. For a split second she felt the tip of a shaft teasingly penetrate her, and slammed flat on her back. One hand remained on her breast while the other kneaded at her clit. Strangely she felt full, her body tingling with rapid fire pulses. "Ohhh… damn…" she gasped, feeling herself filled to the hilt though there was nothing between her legs but her own fingers.

 

"So fucking hot, and tight, Bulma. You've kept your standards high," Vegeta rasped.

 

"You're too damn big, Prince," she whispered back, arching her back as she lifted her hips. Though she saw nothing if she closed her eyes she could see Vegeta squatting on the floor in front of the mirror, as if kneeling between her legs. He braced both hands on either side of a phantom body, grunting as he pounded into his hand.

 

Simultaneously Bulma whimpered at the sharp jabs her body felt like a phantom limb invading her so deliciously. Her whole body bucked in tandem with Vegeta's mental image, and they were united in their push to fuck mentally over no distance but that between two intertwined minds thinking the same thing at the same time. Only the desire to please each other and cause them to scream their names.

 

"Give it to me, Bulma. Scream my name for all to hear!" Vegeta demanded. She felt rough hands squeezing her breasts and then tilted her hips up by thrusting a pillow behind the curve of her back.

 

"Oh Kami, Vegeta… oh… oh… Ahhh!" she screamed. Her piercing shriek resounded in the empty room, filled now with the sounds and whimpers of Bulma's ecstasy. Vegeta's mental thrusts stopped and he grinned devilishly into the mirror, swearing he could see and feel Bulma beneath his pounding body.

 

Once she stopped spasming, Bulma squeezed her inner muscles. Vegeta grunted in shock, moaning at the sensation of someone leaning up and kissing his lips briefly before falling to the bed again. He let out a sharp cry later, his control slipping because he had denied his release for a whole month. Still he knew there would be many more times as he let himself tense and thrust hard into his own hands. Milky white liquid shot across the floor, pooling in a puddle where Bulma should rightfully be.

 

"Bulmaaaaa!" he snarled, beating the floor with one fist.

 

Bulma felt his hot release, crying and screaming in a mass of shudders. For five minutes she could not stop trembling from the aftershocks. Every inch of her skin tingled, and the pent up resentment burst free from her aching heart. Around her the sheets soaked with her own sweat and the juices of her core weeping from the welcome invasion. Hugging her knees she could swear Vegeta was there, pressed against her body with his hard reassuring warmth.

 

Inside her mind's eye she could see Vegeta slowly mopping up his mess and retreating to lay on the bed. He wrapped muscular arms around himself, curling into a ball and feeling Bulma's presence as if she were there. Both breathed at the same rate, loneliness purged from the joint act of pleasure.

 

"This is how it can be, Bulma," he whispered.

 

"You didn't forget me, Vegeta," she sniffled, kissing the backs of her hands and wishing it was his cheeks. Vegeta's cheeks burned with a blush.

 

"Idiotic woman. I will return. But remember, don't interrupt my training," he answered. Bulma nodded wearily, pulling the sheets around her and falling into a deep sleep. Somewhere deep in space she knew Vegeta was doing much the same, thinking of her face in his dreams of earth. Neither could do without the other, though they'd ever admit it was anything resembling love.