A Collection of Short DBZ Stories

Black & Blue

Scenario: Bulma is curious about Vegeta's scars.

It was another rainy morning, the third one in a week, and Vegeta was surprisingly still in bed with Bulma. He was more of a go-getter in the mornings; taking the oppurtunity to train before any annoying family members interrupted his time. Then there was Bulma who slept till 10:00 am, sometimes 11 o'clock without a care in the world. If Trunks happened to wake up earlier then one of the butlers could attend to him. Afterall, if she worked hard inventing didn't she deserve a good night's rest? It also helped having extra room in the bed but when she turned over and felt something hard slap against her arm, the woman stiffened in fear. Who the hell...? Vegeta? Upon opening those vibrant, blue eyes her guess was proven right; it was her dear husband.

"Aren't you supposed to be training before we all disturb you?" Bulma lazily rolled onto her side and observed the view before her. The rain slid down the windows like tears and the navy blue skies and raging winds didn't brighten up the atmosphere either. Then with a grumpy Vegeta sitting beside her, she had to admit that it sent a wave of sadness through her soul. These next words slipped from her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. It was just an automatic, sympathetic response that she hoped he'd answer. "Is there anything you want to talk about?" Vegeta's face twitched in either guilt or uneasiness--not even she could decipher between the two.

"It's nothing." He muttered with buff arms tightly crossed over his chest. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before sighing and scooting closer to him. Her arm began to run circles across his chest and chiseled stomach, as if trying to massage the invisible pain away. "What're you--nevermind I don't care." The warrior's body relaxed under her touch but he'd never openly admit how comforted he felt. Bulma didn't pay attention to his snide little "I don't care" because deep inside he always did.

Instead, her eyes observed the scars that riddled his body. So many fights and wars, trials and triumphs were embedded into him like a map. He was, in a sense, a walking piece of history. The first marks that always caught her attention was the two sword like scratches across his chest and left arm. Then on his pec there was something that resembled a burn. It wasn't too big but large enough to be noticed. "Where's this one from?" She asked casually. Perhaps a battle scar would get this stubborn man to open up just a little. He has so many that he probably doesn't remember anyways.

Without taking a single glance at the wound Vegeta knew; "that's from Kakarot." She was surprised but she really shouldn't have been. He was a Saiyan after all, and that meant a variety of weird abilities. "From our first battle...him and that stupid Kamehameha." Bulma couldn't help but smile. Him and Goku were almost like a married couple.

"Aww you guys are so cute," she teased, knowing it'd annoy the hell out of her big bad prince, however anything was better than seeing him look so lonesome. "Does Goku have a matching one like yours?"

Much to Bulma's surprise he didn't snap at her or pull away like he normally would have but instead shrugged indifferently; "Probably." He recalled the times he punched that dumbass in the face, kicked him, twisted his arm, the list was endless and it raised his spirits a bit.

Much to the alien's dismay, she recoiled from him and sat up with more alertness than usual. "The Vegeta I know would be more pissed off at a remark like that." Perhaps a more serious approach was needed to unlock the mighty warrior's head. She crossed her arms angrily over her chest, now looking like a mirror image of her husband. "Can you please tell me what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Woman, I told you it's nothing." The growl in his voice was more familiar at least. Even his scowl came back but it still wasn't good enough for Bulma.

"With you, nothing is something." Playing angry wasn't going to get her anywhere, she could tell right now. So the genius decided to switch to flirty. Without hesitation, the woman laid her head on his battered chest, a feeling of security suddenly washed over her. Being with him, just his mere touch made everything feel okay. "Don't you trust me?" At the moment the question slipped from her lips, her calm blue eyes met with his hard coal ones, making Vegeta's insides clench. There was a slight pout on her lips that almost got the man to talk. Well, at least that's what Bulma thought.

The ex-prince sighed, placing a callous hand on her much smoother shoulder, occasionally allowing it to run into the silkyness of her hair. He didn't want to admit this but the last thing he wanted was for his wife to feel unworthy. "Bulma," a chill ran down her spine. It always felt nice to hear her name come from those usually sealed lips. "it's not that I don't trust you. It's just a bunch of shit I don't want to remember, let alone talk about." Those strong hands traveled down to her thighs and squeezed, as if urging her to get closer. This is more like it. She thought as she mounted onto him. "It has nothing to do with you, understand?" The Saiyan gripped the small of her chin with dominance. His hand felt better when it was un-gloved, perhaps it wasn't as soft but that was what Bulma found so alurring.

"Yeah, I get it." Without another word to be spoken he pulled her down and kissed her lips--well, almost did. At the last moment he pulled away and laughed wickedly at her frustrated expression. "You're so unfair!" She slapped his shoulder in protest and rather than hearing a sarcastic remark, Vegeta winced in pain.

"Hey! Watch where you aim those dainty hands of yours." He rubbed his sore shoulder where the scientist's eyes landed on a large multicolored bruise.

"How'd you get that?"

"Kakarot...again."

The woman let loose a fearsome scowl. "C'mon, do you saiyans really have to fight so hard?" Although it looked like a  pretty nasty bruise, a part of her found the mark to be hot. He fights so hard. Even if it's just a spar. She admired his ambition, even if it did reach obsessive lengths, and the way he threw everything aside for the sake of victory. Was it pride that made him act this way? Love? Or even sheer stupidity Bulma wasn't entirely sure but it was this mystery part of him that trapped her under his spell.

"Do you even have to ask?" He rolled his neck around, attempting to undo a knot. "That's nothing compared to my back." Immediately the genius leaned over and practically pried the man away from the headboard to inspect the damage her best friend had caused.

Those once sympathetic orbs widened in shock at the litter of blue and black spots over his thick skin. "Holy shit, don't tell me you were honestly going to train today with these pounded into you."

The amount of attention the prince was recieving amused him. "So what if I was?" He smirked in anticipation for one of her quick, fiery mood swings.

"Ugh. You're an adrenaline junkie, you know that? I hate to say this but I'm almost glad you're in one of your weird moods; otherwise you'd just be injuring yourself even more."

"Well when you put it like that...I'm in the mood to train now."

There it was. Bulma getting pissed off at him for being so reckless, but mostly for trying to hassel her. "Shut up!" She resisted the urge to smack him. "You're resting today and luckily, you have me to take care of you!" She forcibly planted a kiss onto his cheek, making Vegeta blush and stiffen at the same time because he really hated to be fussed over.

He rolled his eyes in an attempt to disguise his true feelings. "Yeah, lucky me." Vegeta grunted and followed as Bulma led him to the bathroom for the proper medical care.

Completed: 2/1/19-2/5/19
Note: Why aren't there more scars shown in DBS?? They're badass!