*Species *
By Lily.
Hi there. This is my first fic in the DBZ world. I've spent years now writing for
Sailor Moon and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But, lately, I've been reading such wonderful
fics about Bulma & Vegeta, that I couldn't stop myself. I *had* to write something
about them. But, I didn't know *what* to write. Many excellent ideas have already been used,
and I didn't want to plaguiarize any of my favorite works . . . and so this fic was
stalled.
But then, one day, I was watching "Species2", the movie, and a scene just
struck me so hard, I had to conciously tell myself to breathe. Anyone seen it?.
When the alien meets Eva at the abandoned warehouse, and they're in front of
each other, lust *so* evident in between them--- for a split second, I could *see*
Vegeta & Bulma in their places. And hence, this fic was born.
Enjoy!.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He could feel Her. She was here. On this planet. He could feel her the minute he
stepped out of his space pod. His instinct cried out for her . . . ordered him
to destroy everything until he found her, take her to a desserted spot, and mate
like bunnies. He smiled. Four years ago, he would have. Now, he had control. He
had learnt to deal with his impulses, in a way none of his race had ever managed
to . . . he could somehow supress the urge to mate . . . it no longer was his
main driving force . . . sure, it was still fundamental, yet no longer vital.
Still, he had never had to test up to where his control went.
His race had been wiped away many years ago . . . while he was still a child.
Maybe that was one of the reasons he was so different. People were reluctant to
admit he was a Saiyajin under first impression . . . yet he always proved them
wrong. The fine brutality, the need for violence, the tremendous power he held .
. . more than enough to stop any further questioning. Although by that time, no
one was ALIVE to keep on asking . . .
He had been reading lately. A lot. Specially about his own race. And he had
learnt a lot too. Like the abbility to use ki to his own will, the oozaru
transformation, and *specially*, the Rapture. Each Saiyajin went through the
Rapture on his own time. At the end of childhood, or in the bloom of adulthood.
There really was no specific time: it wasn't determined by age, but by the
presence of the Right One. When She came along, all a Saiyajin male could do,
was follow her. And when she was ready, take her. He could not force her, nor
deceive her into consumating the act . . . she had to come willingly. Oh yes, he
could play. He could tempt. He could touch. But he could not force her.
And now, for the first time, it was HIS time. He had given up the hope long ago,
knowing he would never find the right female . . . sure, the first reason was the fact
that there were NO female saiyajins left . . . yet now, as he breathed in
deeply, her smell intoxicating the air around him, he couldn't help but smile.
Saiyajins were very close with their animalistic side.
Animals hunted for food.
Saiyajins hunted for fun.
Raising his onyx eyes towards the blue sky, he whispered: "I'm coming, woman".
Without any effort, he lifted himself off the ground, and sniffed again.
There--- in between the saltiness of the sea, and the toxics humans produced ---
there it was. Her. His canines were long and sharp, and when his tongue drew
over them a lazy circle of savouring pleasure, the flavour of
blood did nothing but to ignite his passion further.
Vegita, prince of Saiyajins, was home. And he was now hunting. Pity on those who
dared to stand on his way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There were many things Bulma could let slide. Tardiness, bad table manners,
naivette, ignorance--- after all, she had befriended the master of them all when
she was fifteen. Yet, there were others, which she simply couldn't stand. Like
this, for example. Right now. Complete idiocy. Utter stupidity.
"No, no, NO!!. How many time do I have to say it?. This engine can NOT, and I
repeat, can NOT stand normal temperature!. You *must* place it in an air
conditioned special facility!!. Which *I* designed, created and built, and is
now standing outside!!"
Her temper was not something she lost quickly. Sure, in her teens, she had been
known for having the serenity of a roaring storm, but hey, who wasn't?. I mean,
EVERYONE went through puberty, didn't they?. It just seemed to hit her a little
harder than to everybody else. A lot harder, actually. And specially in the
presence of obnoxious men who stared at her breasts more than her face, but hey,
who could blame her?.
Yet now, at the ripe age of 25, Bulma Briefs was learning to control herself.
When counting up to ten didn't work, she just settled for bitting her inner
cheek . . . it was painful and all, but it gave her something to hold on to,
instead of choking her employees to death.
But this_this_this imbecile had just ruined two years of work in two seconds.
Couldn't he READ?. The lable CLEARLY said `Keep under low temperatures'. And he
went and happily stuck it in the basement, just when Satan City was being struck
by a strongest summer heat-wave in years. Result?. Millions of yens wasted, years of
research lost, and several important projects should now be shut down or set
back, until the machine was up and running again. Which, according to her
calculations, was going to take much more time than what they had--- Capsule
Corporation's competitors would NOT sit back and watch as she scrambled to get
everything fixed . . . Gods, she could feel the headache coming---
"Bulma-san?". The voice was soothing and calm. It relaxed her inmediatly . . .
to be honest, that was one of the reasons she had hired Miya in the first place.
"Yes?", she asked, grateful for being interrupted. "Why don't you go and lie
down a bit?. I'm sure I can handle this. Rest for a couple of hours, and I'll
have this thing running in no time". Had it been anyone else, Bulma would've
snapped at been treated like a child . . . but no one could EVER get angry with
Miya. She always smiled, a *true* smile . . . you wanted her to hug you, and to
soothe away all the pain. And besides, she was right.
She nodded, and announced: "I'm gonna take a break. I'll be back by five
o'clock, `k?". Miya smiled almost in a motherly way. And Bulma left, feeling
much more relieved than she thought she would ever feel . . .
As she stepped into the elevator, she rubbed her temples, trying to clear her
view from all those little dark spots . . . they seemed to be coming along a lot, lately.
She probably should check herself soon. What did a Master in Molecular Biology be of any use,
if she couldn't diagnose herself?.
"23", she mumbled, tiredly. As she leaned against the far wall, she closed her eyes,
and allowed the humming of the elevator to lull her . . . as it went up, and up, she
sighed loudly. But then, the doorsd opened, and she couldn't help the grin that lit her lips.
Now this was a place she felt comfortable in. Every luxury she could ever need,
was just a button away. Jacuzzi, bed, fruit, magazines, hair-dresser . . . you
name, she had it. After all, she spent most of her time at the Capsule Corps
facilities, since her father had retired from bussiness, leaving the management
to her alone.
She craned her neck, trying to soothe the knots away. Boy, was she tired. Her
back ached, and she needed a hot bath, now. And hell, she was going to get one.
Getting undressed, turning the jacuzzi on, and locking the door was done in a
matter of seconds. While she waited for the back to fill, she couldn't help but
stare at her naked form. The six feet tall mirror in front of her, did little to
hide her beautiful form. And she again marveled at her own beauty. Now, don't
mistake this for vanity . . . Bulma knew she was beautiful. She had been told so
millions of times. Yet only when Yamcha had worshipped her that once time, had
she actually believed it--- NO!!.
Angrily, she stomped on that insidious memory. And started brushing her hair,
forcefully, trying to stop her own mind from wandering. God, that had been such
a mistake . . . she had given him the one thing that truly belonged to her, the
one thing that was only hers to give . . . her virginity. And what did he do?.
He threw it back at her.
After they had slept together, rumours began circulating. She just hadn't dared
to believe them. That he was seeing somebody else. Behind her back. And that she
had been the worst lay he had ever had. And boy did he talked from experience .
. . angry tears slipped from her closed eyelids, as she remembered.
God, she had never gone through such an embarrasing experience. And in front of
all the executives, nonetheless. He had just stormed in, and demanded an
explanation. It had been a selfish act to do, yes, but hey, the only reason he
was still working as her bodyguard was because they were a couple. The man was
irresponsable, careless and a flirting moron . . . did he really expect she was
going to keep him next to her?. Like hell!!.
<No more regrets, Bulma>, she told herself. <That's the past>. She brushed the
tears away, slowly, and realised the bath was ready. Lightening up at the
prospect of a hot, warm, calm bath, she smiled a bit. Maybe the water could wsh
away her emotional scars too . . .
She stepped into the water, finding it perfect to her taste. And she settled in,
proped against the wall, letting the warmth set in. <Oh, this is great>. She
closed her eye, and listened. The drip-drop of the water was calming her . . .
Drip
Drop
Drip
Drop
Drip . . .
Before she knew it, she was already half asleep. God, it was so comfortable . .
. so warm . . . so relaxing . . . it didn't register to her, when she felt
something brushing against her stomach. She was just between realms, not asleep,
yet not quite awake, either.
Her long light blue hair waved in circled around her face, a halo of perfection
. . . she sighed. It was good . . . it moved from her belly, up to her breasts.
They were round, and full . . . she could only purr, when a pair of nonexisting
hands gently began massaging them. They were so firm . . . yet so tender . . . a
whisper, barely a whisper ::...`let me in'...:: her mind opened, and she could
feel Him . . .
He was here. With her. And she didn't care about anyhing else. His lips found
their way to her own, and kissed her with a passion she had never known before.
He managed to elicit a moan from her throat, a moan so low, so full of meaning,
she felt him tremble above her. And she smiled.
Leaving her cherry mouth, he moved downwards, to her neck. He licked, and
nibbled, and she writhed undernath his hard body. God, he was warmth, and cold,
and passion, and fire, and it consumed her---
His hands had never stopped playing with her breasts, and only stopped, when his
mouth came in touch--- she arched her body, trying to get more contact . . . he
would have nothing of it. A firm hand was pressed againt her waist, keeping her
down. She whimpered in protest . . . but her whimper turned into a moan of
pleasure, when his tongue flickered her nipple. She gasped loudly, splashing water
around her. She needed more.
Her hands went into the air, and found flesh. Warm, living, breathing flesh. Her
eyes still closed, she explored. A chiseled chest, seemingly made of stone, yet
the skin so soft . . . so soft . . . a broad back, powerful shoulders . . . a
sudden attack of shyness prevented her from going any further. She could swear
she heard him chuckle. ::...`timid, woman?'...::
Her answer was cut short, as his mouth closed around her nipple, and suckled
hungrily. She clung to him for dear life, as his hands worked wonders in her
body . . . God, she had never felt like this!.
Pressed against her thigh, she felt his own hardness . . . she was having her
own effect then . . . his mouth moved up again, seeking relief in her ruby red
lips . . . their tongues met, and battled, a battle of flesh and blood, of
passion, and lust.
Every nerve on her body was alive. Every touch ignited her further. She needed
completion. She needed Him. She pleaded, her mind touching his own. "Please . .
.", her whisper floating in the room . . . his hand snaked between their bodies
again, searching his ultimate goal. Her legs opened slowly, allowing him better
access. Her muscles strained, waiting for his touch . . . his fingers played
with her navel, teasingly. She grunted, *needing* it . . . it was coming, she
could feel it, his warmth was coming closer, it was, oh yes it was, and then
it---
KNOCK KNOCK.
Splash!.
Bulma was wide awake the very instant the knocking started. She sat up, quickly,
gasping for breath. Her body was on fire . . . she was flushed, needing
something . . . to her surprise, there was no one around. She was alone, in her
bathroom . . .
KNOCK KNOCK.
"Bulma-san, are you there?".
It took her a full second to realise there was someone on the other side of the
door, asking her name. "Y_yes?", she croaked, her throat still weak. "Oh good.
The thermometers were detecting huge amounts of heat coming from here, so I
thought I should check up on you". Heat?. Warmth?. Oh boy, was she warm indeed.
She was on *fire*. "oh, ok_okay then. Thank you, Takiya-san".
"Remember the metting at 6:30, `k?. Don't want you getting there late again!".
She could hear his footsteps receeding now, moving away from the door--- wait a
minute!. How could she hear him walking, if she was inside the bathroom, with
the door closed, water vapour all around her, muffling every sound, and more
than twenty feet away from the front door?. She craned her neck, and listened
carefully.
Yes, there it was. A faint conversation . . . `... need to improve
production...'. `...new technologies...'. Were those Takiya and Makoto?. But
they worked two floors below?. How could she hear them?.
Sighing, she stood up, letting the water caress her all the way down. She had to
hold onto the wall, her kness were so weak . . . she still felt wobbly and
flushed from that previous experience . . . what was it?.
She hadn't dreamt it. Someone had been in there with her . . . but the motion
sensors would've detected something . . . and no alarms have been triggered . . .
she shook her head, trying to awaken from the semi-slumber she was still in:
boy had that rocked her to the core.
For an instant, she had the temptation to relieve this aching herself--- but then
her common sense won the upper hand, and she realised she couldn't. Not in here. Not
where the walls had eyes and ears, and not necessarily friendly ones . . . she could almost
see the tabloid's new cover: "Capsule Corporation's President gets it on in the tub!!".
She wasn't giving her enemies that chance, thank you very much. It had been enough when
that little weasel yamcha had revealed her 'night secrets' for all the world to read about.
talk about rejected men. Private vendetta, he had called it, when she had demanded for
an explanation. Well, private vendetta he wanted, private vendetta he was gonna get.
After that, it was months before Yamcha could go out on a date again . . . no woman dared
to come aross him after what *she* had revealed . . .
Oh well, time to get back now. The water was beggining to cool off, and she was
starting to shiver--- although it could also have been because of the ache between her legs
. . . yet somehow, that last train of thought had cooled it down a bit.
She lifted one slender leg, and stepped out of the tub---
THUD!.
"Aiiiieee!"
---only to fall square on her butt. What was wrong with her?. The fall didn't
hurt a bit, it was just her injured pride that demanded to know what the hell
was going on . . .
Rubbing her sore behind, she tried to stand up. The minute she did, her legs
buckled under her, and the room seemed to spin--- only a quick hold onto the
towel railing prevented her from falling down again. God, what was it?.
Her analytical mind inmediatly began searching for an explanation. It was as if
her balance center had been altered . . . there was something weighing more than
it was suppoused to. Uh?. Right. She had gained a few pounds by just soaking in
the water?. No way!!.
Making her way (stumbling, tripping, cursing and almost falling flat on her face
twice) towards the mirror was an odyssey on itself. Yet she managed to stand in
front of it. Yet there was nothing to see. The surface was blurred, the water
having condensed on it quickly. Grumbling at stupid chemistry, she cleaned
it with her left hand. Bit by bit, her body appeared. Her own reflection stared
back at her.
The dripping hair, plastered to her face. The worried eyes, full of scientifical
curiosity. The cherry mouth, still swollen from the powerful kisses of her
phantom stranger. Her breasts, heaving up and down from her laboured breathing.
Her flat stomach. Her tail curled around her waist. Her long legs, stretc---
WHAT????.
Bulma had a very calm mind. There weren't many things in the world that could
surprise her. Having a tail *certainly* was one!.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!"
Clonk.
Thud.
Strangely, when she screamed, she also lost her balance. Painfully, when she
lost her balance, she fell, hard, right on top of the sink. Thankfully, when she
fell on top of the sink, she also lost conciousness. The last thing she heard,
as she slipped into the darkness, was a silent whisper: ::...so loud, woman...::
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Feh. The woman was a screamer. That was good. She liked them loud, specially
when his doing was concerned. If he was the one making her scream, all
the better. Vegita snorted in pleasure. It hadn't been hard to locate her. The
whole building reeked of her . . . it had been even easier to access her mind.
The natural mind barriers their species had, wasn't there . . . probably because
she wasn't completely Saiyajin.
He had noticed that when he had first seen her. Her hair was an unnatural
blue--- it only attracted him further. Pretty delicious thing, she was. He had
never seen anything as beautiful, he had told himself. And for that, he had been
gentle. Only trying to reach her through their mind-link . . .
But when she had started moaning under his astral-self, as if in heat, he had
lost all control. He wanted to take her, right there, in the water--- damn that
human!. He had dared to interrupt their little encounter. Oh well, he would just
have to find a better place to seduce her---- although she had been more than
willing in the bathtub . . .
He smiled. The little creature didn't even know about her heritage. It was going
to be fun to watch. And that tail--- even if he had one, it had never looked so
delicious to him. It gave her this animal look, that he just couldn't resist. It
was perfect.
Things were moving, now. From his perch on the window, he saw as humans entered
the room, shuffling over her naked form. His first instinct was to fly through
the glass, and rescue her--- but then he noticed they were trying to help her.
They had covered her in a robe, put her on a stretcher, and carried her away.
Oh yes, this was going to be fun. He wouldn't miss this for anything. Flying
around the building like a falcon looking for it's prey was easy for him_evading
the security cameras was a piece of cake too. Locating her was simple too, he
just had to follow his nose.
And so he went, a smile on his lips, a mishcevious glint on his eyes . . .
even if she WAS his mate, still, it was fun to watch her squirm in worry--- altough,
if it was up to him, he would have her squirming by some *very* different reason . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
When Bulma came to it, there were three things that struck her. One: she
was naked. Two: she was as hungry as hell. Three: what the hell was that stench??.
Wrinkling her nose in disgust, her first move was to reach out, and cover herself.
Thankfully, someone had clothed her in a robe, her own, she noted distantly.
Thn there was this nagging pain in her head, and a sore ache in her butt. She was
laying back in a bed, or so it seemed. She tried to squirm, to make the ache go away
. . . that's when she noticed she couldn't move. She was too brain-mudded to realise it
right away, but she was tied to the bed. And it wasn't a bed at all--- it was a lab table.
She was hand and foot-tied to a lab table!!. She wasn't no experiment!!.
Try as she might, she could not break free. All her rocking and struggling
managed to do was to make her wrists and ankles sore . . . there also was something
attached to her waist. It was like a belt . . . was it another security restrain?.
Raising her head as much as she could, without snapping her neck, she took a look.
And gulped. So. It hadn't been a dream. She DID have a tail. A furry, brownish, real,
live, beating tail. Ok, time to panic now.
What was going on anyway?. And what the hell was the smell?. It smelled like
rotten fish, bathed in two-week old garbage, with a smelly sock on top. How did she knew
how any of those things smelled like, she didn't know. And frankly, she didn't want
to find out. But it just wouldn't go away. It was in the whole room, and it was making
it really hard to breathe.
It was then that her stomach grumbled. And it made her forget about the smell.
Because she could hear voices in the background. Probably behind her . . . and one of
them was her father's.
'Mr. Briefs, you know it's vital for her to understand'.
'I know, I know. I just never thought we would come to this'.
'None of us did. But we all agreed that one day, the alien genes would express
themselves. We just didn't know when'.
<Whoa, whoa, wait a second!. Alien genes?. Who were they talking about?. It
better not be me!>. Panic *really* began settling in this time, and her struggling
became frantic.
"Let me GO!!"
Her scream was loud enough to be heard through the entire room. Through the
terror that grabbed hold of her, she heard a familiar noise in the distance. The
doors of the lab, opening. She herself had walked through those doors, hundreds of
times, yet she had never felt so frightened before. This time, she wasn't the
experimenter . . . SHE was the experiment. And suddenly, she understood, the
agonizing screams of all the little lab rats she had worked on before . . . and
her stomach clenched at the very thought.
Then, something else came through. If she was in the Biological Research
facilities, that meant every wall was sound proof. Then how could she have heard
the conversation going on in the hallway?. It was impossible!.
She had no time to ponder that, though, as her father, and Chief Scientist
Kiara Hitomi appeared in her visual. And her father's face wasn't something she liked to
look at. It was concern she read in his features . . . concern, and even--- fear?.
"Dad, what's going on?"
She could've remained quiet for all the answer she received. Kiara-san was
looking at her in such a way, she suddenly wished she could tie the robe tighter
around herself. There was this scary glint in her eyes, a glint of curiosity she
had often found in her own eyes . . . and all she could do was crinch under her gaze.
Her father went away again, and in the background, she could heard some buttons
being pushed, and computers analyzing data, and graphs coming to, and calculations being
made . . .
"It will take another 48 hours for the changes to be complete"
Father's voice was cold. Scientific like. And it ennerved her.
And she suddenly realised this was not her. This was just a sick nightmare.
That was it. This wasn't real. This was not happening. She had probably fallen asleep
on the tub, and she was about to wake up, and Miya would gently scold her for being late
for the meeting, and her life would go on, and no, she did not have a tail attached to
her butt, and no, she wasn't strapped to the lab-table waiting to be vivisected like a
frog---
"Strange. Her neural lectures are going off the roof".
"Notice how the tail bristles when she's disturbed".
"Probably has nerve endings too. We must examine this appendage further".
God!. This was her they were talking about!. She was a human, for God's sake!.
But then, hadn't she acted the same when guinea pigs stared at her with their huge
eyes, pleading at her NOT to pinch them with those needles . . . she felt like crying.
"Please, Daddy, what's going on?".
Her tone was desperate. This kind of panic she had never felt before. Never.
It was consuming her, from the inside, . . . she *knew* this was not good . . . something
was wrong, ALL wrong . . .
"Bulma, it's time you knew".
Finally!. Someone was speaking to her!.
"K-knew?. Knew what?".
"That you are not human, my dear".
Gasp. Blink.
"Wh--what?".
Her voice was hoarse . . . it was hard to breathe. Why was it that her
thorat was suddenly so tight?.
"I said, you are not human, Bulma".
Okaaayyy. Now this is getting weird. <As if wasn't already>. it felt like some
kind of Twilight Zone . . . she *was* human. She looked human. She breathed human. She
talked human. Hence, she *had* to be human. On the other hand, if it smelled like a cat,
looked like a cat, and walked like a cat . . . it could perfectly well be a tiger.
She shivered.
Her 'father' kept on talking.
"Twenty-eight years ago, an alien spaceship landed on Chikyuu. It's only
occupant was already dead. Thankfully, it crashed on Capsule Corp's
lands, so it easy to conceal it. The media never knew. Yet we did. And we worked on
it for two whole years, before we managed to understand the language, and could properly
begin the download of information.
We had stumbled upon a gold mine. Star-maps, with galaxies we never even knew
existed, food, clothing, knowledge . . . but most of all, some living cells. The space
traveller had somehow left some living cells of himself on some type of container. We
took them, and used them to create a hybrid. We were very interested to know how this
new race was . . . we could tell it was humanoid, by the pilot's appearence, but-- what
about its' behaviour?. Were they peaceful?. violent?. And if so, could we destroy them?
If there was one, then there would be many . . . yet the cells were so weak, they were
almost dead.
We had to mix them with some human DNA, to give them some energy to continue
growing. And it was from that mix that you were born, Bulma dear".
"Dr. Briefs'. Sir?. It would do the staff a lot of good if you stopped calling it
dear".
It?. IT??!!. Anger consumed Bulma, and for a second, she was ready to kill Kiara,
with her own two hands. Oh yes, it would be nice to see life oozing out of her body,
like a stuffing out of a cake . . . good, yes. Good indeed. She licked her lips, suddenly
hungry for something . . . for something other than food . . .
Her thoughts must've leaked through her eyes, for Kiara backed away, suddenly
nervous at the way it was looking at her. That's when she remembered *she* was the
scientist here, and *it* was only a lab experiment which her father had began, and she
now had the chance to terminate.
It added spice to the mixture the fact that Bulma Briefs had always been a bitch to
her, and it thrilled her to no end to have her strapped to her table like this--- vulnerable,
trembling--- oh yes, she was going to enjoy vivisecting her. It would take some convincing
from her 'father's part, but hey, how could they learn if she was dead?. They needed to see
the organs functioning, the blood traveling through her veins, the impulses being transmitted
through her nerves . . . her eyes flashed in excitement.
It was payback time.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Dr. Kiara".
"Shall we begin then?", she asked, putting on her rubber gloves, and uncovering the
small roll-in table next to her.
A metal glint caught Bulma's eyes. And she paled.
And she screamed.
"NO!. No, no, no, noooooooooo!".
Something snapped inside of her, something that had been cooking for twenty-five years.
Something that was hers, and yet wasn't. Power. Wind came out of nowhere, and tussled her
hair. And she kept on screaming, her muscled tensed, as unlnown energy flowed through them.
A golden aura surrounded her, adding more fuel to the fire.
She was NOT letting them have their way with her.
They would NOT operate on her.
They would NEVER touch her.
"AAaaaaahhhhh!"
Her scream was so loud, it shattered the windows. And then, it happened.
CRACK.
WOOSH.
With a loud, sickening sound, her straps cracked open. For a moment, they lingered over
her wrists and ankled, floating, waiting--- and then they vanished. They were vaporised. As
was the robe covering her.
Nude, angered and powerful. A Valkyr.
A sudden gust of wind sent everyone in the room flying. Most of them slammed against
the walls, and were left unconscious, missing what would come next. Yet Dr. Kiara reamined
awake, furious and terrified at the same time. Her only thought: 'it should've taken
longer. The genes were not fully expressed. 48 hours. All I needed was 48 hours. Not yet,
not yet, this is not happening, I knew it, I knew, no, no, she can't get away'.
The power. The power was coming from within her. And she couldn't control it. And it
was hurting her. It was tearing her appart. She didn't know what to do with it.
Energy sizzled in her hands, needing a way out. And she pointed them upwards, to the ceiling,
and it exploded.
Debris came falling down, yet none touched her. She was surrounded by light, shielding
her from the falling hell. GOD!. it hurt!. She screamed.
Dr. Kiara snarled in anger, as the tail Bulma had recently re-grown flailed around her,
like a furious snake. No, no, and no!. She refused to let her escape. This was her
greatest experiment, and she wasn't letting it go this easily. She was waited *years* for
her to grow and mature, *years* of observation, of analysis, of drugs placed in her food
without her knowledge . . . she wasn't loosing all of that.
But before she could do anything, Bulma took the matter to her own hands.
Kiara's eyes widened to a size that wasn't humanly possible. She blinked, trying to get
a clear of vision of what she was seeing. yet, as much as she tried to deny what was going on,
she couldn't.
Bulma was rising into the air.
By her own will.
It was flying.
'I knew it!!. Her bone structure is different from ours--- she can manipulate her weight
at will. That explains the anomalies in her blood tests!'.
But that was all she was able to think, because next thing she knew, there was a bright
light engulfing the whole lab, and it hurt her eyes--- for the next five minutes, she
could see nothing but shadows, moving back and forth.
But, eventhough her eyes were scarred, her ears were not. And she noticed the silence.
There was no sound . No noise. No wind. No elaborate breaths but her own.
It had escaped.
Kiara screamed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
This was fun. Watching as she experienced the raw power of the Saiyajin, as she was
completed by her true heritage of the most powerful race in the Universe. He had felt
her pain. Ki wasn't something you played with--- he had been trained, since he was a toddler,
into how to use it. Slowly, at first, letting his body adapt to the changes.
Then, as his skills rapidly went off the scale, he could tap into the neverending
source of power--- but She hadn't known. She hadn't known a thing. She had opened the
gates, and her ki had rocketed inside her.
He had experienced first hand how painful it was to be struck by a bolt of ki.
She was being eaten from the inside by it. Almost unknown to him, his fists curled in
anger.
This was all the human's fault. They had never told her anything--- she had grown
believeing she was human. And for that, they would pay.
'please, make it stop'
His head snapped upwards, as he heard her plea.
Later, then. Later, he would kill them.
Now, his mate needed him.
Shooting the destroyed building one last look, he levitated, and took off. He didn't
even need to feel her ki--- it was everywhere. She couldn't control it, and unless he did
something, he would sonn be mate-less.
<Hold on, woman>
'hurry'
And so he went, a tiny speck in the sky, in search for Her . . .
* * * * * * * * * *
So, you like?. That was chapter one. I know, I know. Kinda confusing?. I read it,
and believe me, I had a hard time undrstanding it all too :P.
But hey, things will get rolling next chapter. I hope I can get it out soon... email
would increase production 200% (hint!Hint!)
Coming soon, on chapter 2: Vegita meets Bulma. Reactions, realizations and fights . . . how
will the human now turned Saiyajin react to her new predicament?.
* * * * * * * * * * *