Royal Namekian Blues

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon ball Z. I only own fan characters Bliss and Dr. Stellari and any minor ones not part of Toriyama's creative work. I get no pay for this, so don’t' sue me.

For those of you missing Bulma and Vegeta action, this chapter is JUST for you; chock full of V/B lemony goodness!

Executive Lime for Bulma

As time passed Capsule ramped production of ki proofed plastic for Vegeta's GR into full gear. Another gravity chamber was being constructed per his instructions. Dr. Stellari had been promoted to Vice Director of R and D, overseeing the production of the ki proof plastic that went into Vegeta's armor as well. Employees were sworn to secrecy after word crept around about the new security guards accompanying Bulma's husband.

Everyone knew about Prince Vegeta. What they soon learned was that the two 'threats' that had attacked before were merely explained as experimental soldiers with specialized training. Not all of the employees were permitted to discuss any developments for fear of losing their jobs. Official Company policy required silence unless the Saiyans somehow jeopardized their jobs. So far Bulma's plan had kept the Z fighters and the world in general from panicking about the Saiyans.

Vegeta spent most of his time training Napa and Raditz in the desert. Trunks split his time between Capsule and with his father. Or searching new bases with Piccolo. The Z fighters fixated on training assured by Bulma that the strange reports were just Vegeta and Trunks training. Gohan had promised to trust Bulma, but he was finding it harder to convince Goku not to pass by Capsule to check out his strange feelings.

Yet Yamcha would probably spill what he had seen before long. If Bulma hadn't stopped him and made him promise for her sake and old times sake to keep what he'd seen a secret. With the promise of his own training facility and the gruff agreement of Vegeta to let him stay, he kept his silence. Yamcha was still embarrassed that he had dated an android, and Trunks kept him under his thumb. The fear of disappointing Bulma or Trunks kept Yamcha from betraying Bulma and Vegeta's secret to the Z fighters till Vegeta and Bulma had thought of the appropriate cover story.

When Bulma was at work, Mrs. Briefs watched baby Trunks. An ever present Raditz who patrolled Capsule grounds guarded her. He had taken Bardockson as his last name to please the humans who insisted on two names. Dr. Stellari had moved in with the Saiyan at this time, and both lived in the complex in the room that Yamcha had once called his own. Yamcha took the bungalow that would have been Vegeta's, and had access to a special training gym with Puar. He lamented the loss of the promise of a relationship with Dr. Stellari, but he still taught her two sons martial arts. Raditz and Yamcha had a silent understanding, and per Dr. Stellari's request, kept from punching each other to dust. Napa kept well away from the complex, spending all his time at the remote training location with Vegeta or his daughter Bliss. Both Father and Daughter had much lost time to catch up on. Sometimes Bliss would stop by and train with Trunks and Vegeta.

Lately Trunks and Bliss were with Napa at the remote facility with Vegeta. Bulma had resented the loss of her husband and bed warmer, and had busied herself with work now that she was a mother. Between care of her son and Vegeta's intense training the two had little time together.

After a hard day's work, Bulma disappeared into her private office. She waved her apology that a few minutes became a half-hour as several scientists asked about the latest allotment of funds to different projects. Scurrying to and fro, secretaries moved from the inner offices to the outer ones at Capsule.

Within the waiting room, several important clients flickered over their notes. They were Mr. Spotmarket and Ms. Pipeline of Mega Oil Corporation, one of the big suppliers of raw materials for capsule. So absorbed were they in completing their reports for Capsule R and D that they failed to see a familiar figure stride into the waiting area. Miss Jujube, the receptionist, shivered in her seat, noticing the dark black eyes as dark as a starless void gleam into hers with absolute authority. He held a finger to his lips as he strode importantly up to the desk. The receptionist gave as brave a smile as she could to the figure wearing gleaming white armor with matching boots and gloves. Every contour of his body was encased in a spandex AE suit leaving little to the imagination.

Amused at the woman's eyes wandering over his form, Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans glanced down at Miss Jujube. "I demand to see the Vice President," he said in a low voice filled with authority.

"I'll call her at once, sir… I mean Sire," she nodded quickly.

"Good. I don't LIKE to be kept waiting, servant girl," he said with gruff politeness. Nervously the receptionist shuffled papers and punched keys on her keyboard while another armored figure peered in the door. She felt as if she were under a very large and uncomfortable magnifying glass.

"Wait one moment Sire," she said softly. "Dr. Briefs is in a meeting. She asks what the nature of your visit is."

"I need no reason to see her. Announce my presence at once," Vegeta said quickly, glaring down at her from his height equal to Bulma's. With a glare like that he seemed as tall as the security guard who had just wandered into the room in his gleaming white and gold armor. Nappa sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, which creaked under his weight.

"She will see you at once," said Miss Jujube sighing in visible relief.

"But we were here first!" protested Mr. Spotmarket, one of the two business suited executives sitting in the reception area.

"Mind your own business," Napa said harshly to Spotmarket and his colleague Pipeline. They quailed under his glare.

"That's enough Napa I'm capable of speaking on my own. Don't go terrorizing the natives. You know it pisses her off!" Vegeta snapped at him, glancing over one shoulder.

"Sorry sire," Napa apologized inclining his head.

"Go wait outside," Vegeta ordered. "I don't require your help now!"

"Right," Napa nodded. Giving a playful growl at both quaking executives he strode out of the lobby.

"Humph," Vegeta sniffed; glaring at Spotmarket and Pipeline. Both nervously were forced to wait till he was done with his business. Miss Jujube let fly a laugh. His head snapped around to the source of the laughter.

"Sire, you can go in to see her now!" she said, wiping the smile off her face.

"Humph," Vegeta grunted, indicating he was done and not going to blow her sky high like the rumors that flew about Capsule said. With a deep sigh of relief she got up and walked over to open the door so Vegeta could enter.

"Who the HECK does he think he is!" demanded Mr. Spotmarket. He brushed off his grey business suit once his color returned. "I've been waiting two WEEKS to see the Vice President!"

"That's her husband Prince Vegeta the 14th," said Miss Jujube, adjusting her headset.

"Her WHAT?" asked Ms Spotmarket. She wore a power suit that was in bold Royal Stewart plaid. Complete with stiletto heeled pumps and an above the knee skirt.

"Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans," said Miss Jujube matter-of-factly. "He's royalty, and he doesn't like to be questioned. Dr. Briefs said we're supposed to obey him without question."

"What nation is he from?" asked Mr. Spotmarket, pushing his glasses further up his face.

"He's from a country that was all but decimated by a war far away," Miss Jujube fumbled, not sure if she should tell the complete truth. Sometimes it was hard to remember what story Bulma wanted her company to relate to potential clients.

"Some kind of diplomat no doubt. Must be a publicity stunt or a political reason to promote Capsule," said Ms. Pipeline.

"The Briefs are always eccentric, particularly the new vice president. But I don't think it's wise to question them considering they're buying our raw materials for the GR contract,” Mr. Spotmarket shushed her.

"Better to be safe then sorry," said Miss Jujube. "Prince Vegeta and Dr. Briefs met on one of her travels. She prefers to keep all conversation regarding him to a minimum. But she assures you that you'll be well compensated for your product. Now if you'll just wait, I'll call up Dr. Stellari, Vice Director of the GR project. I'm sure she'll be happy to speak to you till Dr. Briefs is available."

"Thank you," mumbled Mr. Spotmarket. Still he felt uneasy about the deadly cold look in the Prince's eyes. He had heard rumors about the new armor being developed from the plastic feed stuffs his company provided.

"Dr. Stellari-Bardockson, there are the representatives from Sour Crude. Could you please move your meeting up so you can speak with them? Dr. Briefs is unavailable," said Miss Jujube. Within a few minutes the door swung open and a white-coated figure strode out to shake hands with the two executives. Along with her strode a tall Herculean figure in blue and brown armor identical in design to Prince Vegeta’s. A laminated security pass hung around his thick neck on a chain, bearing the name Raditz Bardockson.

"Hello there, right this way. I hope you don't mind the change in plans," Dr. Stellari said, shaking the bewildered executive's hands. They glanced up nervously at the tall armored figure standing directly to Dr. Stellari's right. Long hair hung down to his mid knees while he towered head and shoulders over them all, much like the one named Nappa had done. Blue armor encased his massive chest.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am, I'm Mr. Spotmarket and this is Ms. Pipeline," he stammered.

"Nice to meet you," said Dr. Stellari-Bardockson, giving them a polite and friendly smile that sent their minds reeling.

"Right this way," Mr. Bardockson waving them through with his arm. Nervously they followed the white-coated Professor, followed by her hulking security guard.

“Congratulations on your recent marriage,” Ms. Pipeline said as she glanced down at Dr. Stellari’s name card badge.

“Isn’t there some policy against two family members working in the same department?” Mr. Spotmarket asked.

Raditz Bardockson growled, “That is none of your affair, sir. With all due respect my wife and I are in separate departments. Does this have any bearing on your meeting?”

“Settle down, love,” Dr. Stellari glared up at her husband. “I know Ms. Pipeline from previous visits.”

“Sorry Mr. Bardockson,” Ms. Pipeline glanced up at the annoyed Raditz. “I shouldn’t pry.”

As they entered the main complex of offices, they passed by the glass antechamber that led to Dr. Bulma Brief's office. Outside the door they saw the nervous young secretary opening the door for the short imposing figure who had been admitted ahead of them.

"Your Majesty," their security guard inclined his head as they passed.

"As you were, Third Class," Vegeta grunted. He gave an annoyed stare towards Dr. Stellari and the nervous executives.

"Don’t mind him," Dr. Stellari glanced at the two terrified clients.

"Is he… safe?" muttered Ms. Pipeline.

"He's like that to everyone. We get used to it," she shrugged.

"His Majesty is fully interested in the safe running of Capsule's operations," said their tall security guard, they called Mr. Bardockson. "I would advise you to not concern yourself with matters outside your purpose here."

"Raditz, calm down. I've got this under control," Dr. Stellari glared at him. Mumbling Raditz folded his arms across his chest and strode behind her party as they entered the hall leading to her office.

"Idiots," Vegeta mumbled. He strode into Bulma's office, shaking his head. Behind him the tall door clicked shut and he entered Bulma's inner sanctum.

Like many dignitaries chambers he recalled Bulma's office was spacious and furnished with all manner of rich upholstery and thick chairs. A massive oak desk dominated the far wall, flanked on two sides by huge bookcases. Several windows from floor to ceiling poured in daylight on one side, casting sunlight across huge modern art paintings.

Piles of binders sat on her desk, colored brightly with the reds, blues, and gold and each marked with the capsule logo. In the vaulted ceiling chamber, chandeliers illuminated the space. Slightly hunched over a laptop terminal sat the Vice President herself, while another secretary quickly typing the stream of diatribe Bulma spewed.

Blue eyes fixed on Vegeta, and Bulma stopped in mid sentence, "What are you doing here?" she demanded, leaping up out of her chair.

"I don't need a reason to see you, Bulma," Vegeta said with a glare at her secretary.

"Ma'am?" asked her secretary, getting up out of his chair.

"Vegeta, can't this wait?" Bulma glared at him.

"I've waited all morning. And I don't wish to wait any longer. I've an urgent matter to see you about!" Vegeta glared at her. "Now will you see me or NOT?"

Bulma sighed, shaking her head. Turning to her secretary she said, "I would prefer... perhaps to confer with his Majesty in private" she spoke to her office worker. "Have all my calls held, and tell the guards I don't want to be interrupted."

"At once Dr. Briefs," the young secretary nodded. Gathering her laptop she retreated and closed the door behind them.

Bulma grumbled and sat down. She pretended to ignore the Prince standing there with folded arms. He tapped his foot, chuckling at her pathetic attempt to ignore him by typing furiously on her laptop. Circling the desk he stood right next to her high leather backed chair and peered over her shoulder.

"I had hoped you'd grant me an audience," Vegeta snickered, lips tickling her ear.

Bulma glanced up at him, her heart pounding fast. "So what's so all fired important, huh, your royal Whyness? I thought you were training!" she glanced up at him.

"I see you have the brat in daycare," Vegeta commented. He turned around and sat on the desk, right on top of her manila folder.

"My mom can't get enough of him. You didn't just come in her to ask me that did you?" Bulma glared up at him.

"I had something else to ask you," Vegeta said, pushing the laptop away and snapping it shut.

"Now wait a moment!" she glared up at him. "I've got a company to run and you've got training!"

"I've got other priorities," Vegeta snorted, stopping her from getting up with a hand on her knee. Bulma grumbled, glaring up at him. Her business suit encased her body recovering from months of pregnancy. Vegeta knew that what he had in store would remind her of her place.

"You're sitting on my progress report. Move your royal ass, and spit out why you're here," Bulma glared at him. Vegeta hopped down from the desk, and then sat on the arm of her chair. Leaning close he pointed to the progress report he had just sat on. To do so he leaned over her legs so his armor barely brushed her thighs. She realized how close he was.

"I must remind you of your duties that you have been remiss in,” he said, lips close to her ear. His hand lay atop hers, his other arm reaching up to her.

"Indeed?" Bulma glanced up. Her lips almost collided with his as Vegeta unbuttoned her tight jacket, and breathed in her ear.

"Do you object?" he purred, sliding his gloved fingers over her ruffled blouse. Sliding his hand between her jacket and blouse he gave her breast a playful squeezed.

"Vegeta…" she whimpered, seeing the lust in his dark eyes. He smirked cutely, moving so he stood between the desk and her knees that he spread lightly apart.

"I merely desired... clarification..." he breathed, as if trying to steady his breath.

"What kind?" she panted. Vegeta sat up on the desk with a grunt, and then pulled her chair forwards. He slid his gloved hands up and down her arms, and then pushed her jacket down.

"I have missed you much, Vice President," he softly whispered into her ear. "There is another matter I must discuss with you..."

"Which being..." she gasped, her nose brushing lightly against his. The smell of his rich musk overpowered her nostrils.

"I shall sit down and tell you," Vegeta whispered. He reached down and unfastened the straps on his armor, then lifted it off over his head. Dropping it on the desk, he then tugged off his gloves. Bulma watched as his muscles shifted under blue spandex. Then he shifted forwards, so he straddled her knees on the chair. He kept his full weight off of her as he sat on the edge of the desk and parted his legs and pulled her waist forwards.

"Vegeta, you're too heavy," she grunted as he shifted and made to sit in her lap.

"Humph, weakling," he teased. He shoved her desk chair back, so it collided with the bookcase. Bulma yelped as she shot back, loosing her balance. With a sweep of his hand Vegeta cleared the desk of all papers and binders. They crashed to the floor with a mighty thump. Outraged Bulma leapt up and cursed.

"Damn it! That's six months work!" she yelled.

"Now its six inches of trash to clean up," Vegeta shrugged. Scooping her up he dropped her on the desk, and then leapt up next to her.

"Vegeta…" she stammered, as she struggled to get up. He pinned her down, straddling her on either side after kicking his boots off.

"I cannot bear to be separated from you for very long. It's... driving me to madness... this hunger... I wish to reach out, and touch you... and I cannot..." he purred, tearing open her blouse with his bared hands. Bulma swallowed and reached up to tug at his blue shirt. Crossing his arms he pulled it up and off, then tossed her expensive blouse into the binders already scattered across the thick plush carpet.

"You sly son of a monkey," she smiled, realizing he had forced her to clear her calendar for a much needed nookie session. He hushed her, silencing her protests with his warm lips. She swooned as she drank in the pressure, wrapping arms around him tightly. That hunger grew and grew as her made up face smudged against his, her lips gently moved apart by his hot breath. His tongue gently moved within, driving her to distraction as she felt him firmly against her. The hard desk pressed against her back as he lay on top of her.

"Don't be afraid to look me in the face, my beauty," he said softly, taking her chin in his hand.

"Hard with you weighing me down, Princey," Bulma panted.

"Humph," Vegeta laughed, reaching down to shove her skirt up. He ripped off her panties and stockings, and then kissed along her bare chest.

She sensed what he wanted, and she wanted it too. A quick release of the strange hunger. Shame passed by in the moment, but she realized it was not to be felt in this case. For did he not say he loved her? And she him?

"Vegeta," she moaned with delight as his tongue traced down the edge of her ear, to lick its way to her cheek. Slowly he pulled out her hairpins holding her blue locks in its bun. He fingered the tightly pulled hair and easing the strain that confined it there. Bulma hissed with pleasure as his fingers massaged her scalp. His hard muscled chest pressed to her soft breasts as she felt him hold her close.

"Mmm, my pain in the butt prince," she purred.

"You need to know your place," he teased her, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. All angles that softened into a tender smile as he caressed her back and chest.

"I... have missed you," she said shyly, lowering her eyes from his. He took her chin in his fingers and lifted her eyes to look at his.

"You are every bit my equal," Vegeta whispered. "But if you tell anyone…"

"Shut up and kiss me," Bulma whispered.

Suddenly they heard the sound of voices in the outer corridor. She pulled herself away from him. Vegeta snarled, leaping off the desk and setting Bulma on the chair. In she ducked behind him and he grabbed his blue spandex top and threw it to her to pull on. "Stupid…"

"Vegeta, calm down," she hissed. "Get down."

"I refuse to…"

"Then pick up the damn mess you made!" Bulma glared at him, pulling her skirt down and pointing to the pile of their clothes. Grumbling Vegeta grabbed up her torn garments and dumped them in a chair.

"Get lost!" he snarled as he strode towards the door. "She's busy!"

"But Mrs. Briefs!" called the frightened voice.

"I said get lost! She's in an important meeting!" Vegeta snarled.

"Vegeta, shut up!" Bulma hissed, getting up. She rushed over and pushed him out of the way of the door, and whispered, "What is it!"

"Just wondered if everything was all right," said a muffled voice.

"I don't want to be interrupted unless the Androids are attacking!" Bulma snapped, as Vegeta glared at her.

Grunting his satisfaction, Vegeta pulled her away from the door. He stopped to lock it, then swept Bulma up in his arms and carried her towards the desk again. As he sat down in the chair he plunked her on his lap and growled, "Honestly when will you learn how to properly order your servants around?"

"Vegeta, don't tell me how to run my company!" she glared up at him. Vegeta growled, turning her to straddle his waist. He pulled his shirt off her body, and slid her over the hardening in his pants.

"You should learn from a Prince how to run a kingdom. I didn't just sit on my thumb and spin when my father instructed me in the ways of ruling," he growled. Nibbling her ear, he licked lightly with hot breath against her skin. Bulma moaned, running her hand over his chest to trace his scars.

"All right, smarty, then tell me what I need to know since you're the expert, oh mighty Prince," she growled.

"You were given authority, use it. And that means that when your mate wishes to play with you, and you want no interruptions, you say it like you MEAN it," Vegeta purred, massaging her breasts. Bulma rocked in his laps, biting his ear and nipping it so she drew blood.

"And?" she gasped, pressing her lips to his before scooting back and working her way down his chest. She slid between his knees as he sat there in the chair, parting his legs.

"Never forget that you're in control. Seize your authority and let them know that you control their destinies," he panted, feeling her peel down his blue spandex pants. Before long her hot breath surged over his hardness. Vegeta closed his eyes, moaning as her blue hair filled his lap. Hot moistness embraced him, swallowing his desire as he rubbed her scalp.

"Uh huh," Bulma mumbled, her mouth busy showing him who was boss at that moment.

"You're next Bulma," he hissed with pleasure, bucking his hips. Laughing Bulma blinked up and licked her lips.