Drunk: The Trip Home
by Ginia

Bulma shook her head, still not quite believing Vegeta had wound up in such a ridiculous state: drunk off his ass in a bar – a Gay bar yet – with nothing but a pair of black silk boxers left of his original clothing. Bulma sighed as she walked Vegeta out to her car, which, in itself was an interesting experience.

One of the Saiyan's arms was around her shoulders and he lightly leaned against her. His free hand drew slow, soft circles on her belly as she moved him along. Bulma was having a hard time remembering that the enticing creature she had her arms around was a homicidal maniac and the bane of her day-to-day life.

She glanced at Vegeta's face as she opened the rear door of the waiting convertible, only to catch his ebony eyes staring at her with such a needful expression that her breath caught in her throat and a deep flush spread from her chest to her hairline.

"Do we have to go? Don't you want to stay and dance with me?" Vegeta asked quietly, as he brought his lips to brush her temple. "I want to dance with you..."

"Vegeta, you are going to be so miserable tomorrow." Bulma sighed as she pulled her face away from his teasing lips. "Come on, 'Your Majesty,' party's over... we gotta get you home."

Although Vegeta wasn't fighting her, he wasn't exactly eager to get into the car either. He laughed, as Bulma was forced to move him bit by bit until he was finally lined up with the open door. While moving him into position, her hand unavoidably slid over his bare skin. She tried very hard not to notice how smooth that skin was, or how solid and desirable the body beneath her fingertips truly was.

OK – get a grip right now! This was Vegeta, and tomorrow he would be back to his royal pain in the ass self. Bulma sighed again. All Vegeta had to do now was sit down and she would have managed the tricky task of loading this incredibly sexy, and not entirely cooperative, drunken prince into her car.

Bulma tried to gently push him to sit in the open door behind him but he just stood there and chuckled. "Vegeta!" she scolded softly. "Get in the car. It's time to go."

"But I can't bend, I'm all stiff – see?" He laughed and pulled Bulma firmly against him. His hands cupped her butt as he gently rubbed his silk covered erection against her. Vegeta pressed his obvious arousal firmly against her belly, reminding her, yet again, that this was no normal human male in her arms – but rather a very well endowed alien warrior, and a prince no less... Bulma wondered if he knew what to do with such an impressive tool...

Where did that come from? Bulma thought, as her knees buckled and an explosion of need ignited in her belly. She knew accepting his 'offer' would be the wrong thing to do. Pushing away from him, she scowled and sharply told him: "Knock it off, Vegeta! Get in the car RIGHT NOW!" Fortunately, he did.

Grumbling to herself about stupid hormones and stupid men, and – after catching another glimpse of Vegeta's silk covered lap – the possibility of keeping Vegeta drunk forever... Bulma finally got his seat-belt buckled and the car door closed.

Walking around to the driver's door, Bulma kept trying to focus her mind on every cruel thing Vegeta had ever said to her, all the evil things he had done in the past... But still she tingled everywhere their bodies had touched. She knew she must have gone crazy, and an icy cold shower would definitely be called for her when she got home, but those few seconds in his arms had still felt unbelievably good.

Slipping behind the wheel, Bulma was only slightly surprised to be greeted by Vegeta's smiling face as he hung over her seat from the back. "Vegeta, please put your seat-belt back on so we can get going!" she said. Exasperation over the entire episode, combined with her growing physical frustration, made her feel suddenly very, very tired.

Vegeta's grin widened as he held up the torn fabric of the seat-belt he had worn moments before. "I can't. It kinda broke when I scooted over here so I could see better. Besides, I don't really need a seat-belt."

Bulma just stared at the belt thinking that if Vegeta had any idea how much he had sounded like Goku just then, it would probably be enough to guarantee he never drank again.

"Fine. Whatever..." Giving up, Bulma started the car. "Just stay back there and out of my way. You may be indestructible, Vegeta, but I'm not and I don't want to get in an accident." Bulma pulled the car away from the curb and headed back towards Capsule Corp.

Vegeta sat with his chin propped on the back of the seat next to Bulma's shoulder. She watched him in the mirror as he stared at her profile, an unexpected chill chasing down her spine. He reached forward and slowly gathered her hair into his hands, then let it fall freely between his fingers. He smiled at the silky texture of her beautiful hair without saying a word.

Bringing his face to hover barely over her exposed neck, he drew a deep breath. "Ummm... smells good," he murmured. She could feel the warmth of his lips as they almost brushed her skin, sending her heart racing once more. His tongue reached out and stroked the delicate area below her ear. "...tastes good, too," he whispered huskily in her ear.

Bulma's resistance was melting even as she tried to stay focused on the fact that Vegeta really didn't know what he was doing – he wasn't thinking clearly....

"Ahhhh..." she moaned aloud as he nuzzled into her hair and took her earlobe gently between his teeth. His strong arms came around her seat, callused fingers stroking up and down her slender arms as she gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Struggling against her instincts, Bulma pulled her head away from Vegeta's warmth and took a deep breath of the cool air blowing past them in an attempt to rein in her racing heartbeat.

"Vegeta, you are very drunk. Now leave my arms alone before you cause an accident."

Moving closer again, Vegeta brushed his lips over her neck but obediently dropped his hands from her arms, shifting them to her abdomen where his fingers moved in tiny circles before his hands began to stroke over the swell of her hips and across her narrow waist.

This was not working. All Bulma wanted was to lose herself in his touches. His hands began to dip low on her tummy, stopping just above her hidden curls and then climbed to just below the bloom of her breasts, where he stopped again. Her breath quickened, as she still fought to remember that this was Vegeta touching her... Yes, there was no doubt that it was Vegeta touching her so wonderfully...

"Stop the car, Bulma," he purred softly. Vegeta's hands moved up to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking over the erect nipples pressed against her blouse.

Bulma shuddered with need, but still she tried to control the rapidly deteriorating situation. "Vegeta, stop. You're scaring me – I don't want you to touch me like that – please...ohhhh... please stop."

"Why are you lying to me, Bulma?" Vegeta whispered in her ear as she moaned at his unrelenting touch. "There's no fear in your scent – only need. Let me give you what you need... what I need... Stop the car... now." His voice was almost a groan as he concluded.

Feeling helpless to do otherwise, Bulma pulled the car off to the side of the road, just short of the Capsule Corp grounds. She turned in her seat to face Vegeta, her thoughts in complete turmoil. Vegeta quickly leaned forward to capture her lips, his hands once more burying themselves in her long hair.

It no longer mattered to Bulma whether or not being with Vegeta under the current circumstance was the right thing or not. She wanted this. She wanted him... his mouth on hers, his hands on her body... and suddenly having a stupid car-seat keeping them apart was more than she could endure.

Lifting herself to climb over the obstruction, she was met with strong arms that drew her into the back of the car and held her against a powerful frame already bathed in a light sheen of sweat. She pulled away from him slightly to help remove her clothes, before he destroyed them completely in his haste. Bulma giggled, as she realized that somehow she'd returned to the days of making out in the back seat of a car.

The unlikely couple kneeled, facing each other, on the back seat of the open convertible. Vegeta immediately dipped his head, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth as if he were a starving infant. Once his mouth left her breasts, he replaced them instantly with his hands. Bulma took his face and guided his lips to her own hungry ones. She explored his mouth with her tongue, daring him to pull back. Instead he deepened the kiss while never letting his hands stop their caressing of her body.

Releasing her lips, Vegeta began a slow path of kisses down Bulma's front. Lowering his face to her full mounds, Vegeta resumed his oral assault on her breasts. His lips seemed to be everywhere at once – licking, nipping, and teasing the tender flesh until her nipples where painfully hard, then he left them to move lower.

As his lips descended, Vegeta shifted his position until he sat between Bulma's upright thighs. Chuckling when he'd reached her navel, he dipped his tongue in and then sucked on the tiny mouth in the center of her firm abdomen.

The naked pair's hands never stopped as they worshipped the other's body. Warm hands caressed her back and sides as Vegeta's lips caressed her front. Once his attention had focused on her belly button, his fingers trailed lower to an area sorely in need of attention.

Callused fingertips stroked the details of her center, moving deftly along the soft folds of her womanhood. Dipping briefly into her silken depth, Vegeta captured some of the liquid treasure flowing within. Spreading it over her most sensitive part, Vegeta began to stroke and tease the swollen nub until Bulma's hips jumped uncontrollably against his hand with every pass – but always he held her just short of orgasm.

Slipping down further between her upright thighs, Vegeta's mouth joined his hand and he continued to caress her softness. His tongue tasted her depths, searching for the source of her honey and stroking her inner walls.

She moaned deeply as he replaced his tongue with two of his fingers, pressing them fully into her, allowing his mouth to move to surround her tender bead, his tongue again caressing her.

Bulma's hands were locked deep in Vegeta's thick hair. His face held firmly against her soft curls. She clearly felt the vibrations of his quiet laughter as he continued to torment her.

"Vegeta... don't stop...Vegeta... nooo..." She moaned as he once more denied her the fulfillment she craved.

Vegeta's eyes sparkled with mischief when he lifted his face to look her in the eye. "See? You should have danced with me," he chuckled.

"Vegeta-ah-ah—" Whatever response she would have made was lost as Vegeta dove back to his previous task with renewed vigor. This time nothing was withheld. Bulma arched her back, thrusting herself hard against Vegeta's eager mouth, her own mouth opened skyward in a silent scream.

Still shuddering, Bulma sank slowly to straddle Vegeta's lap as he sat, grinning smugly, on the seat. With his shaft trapped firmly between them, she could feel his need as clearly as she had felt her own release only moments before. While she had always been aware of her partner's needs in the past – this feeling of 'connection' she currently had with Vegeta was very different. It was as if his aching need was her own as well.

Bulma rocked her hips, rubbing his pulsing shaft against her honey covered bead – lifting them both to the edge of release. Vegeta's groans deepened and his own hips jerked with Bulma's motions as the friction spread the silky liquid over him. His powerful hands gripped her waist, pulling her even tighter against him.

Abruptly, he stopped any further movement. Vegeta lifted Bulma and positioned the head of his manhood at the source of the sweet moisture that covered him. She gripped his shoulders tightly as he slowly lowered her onto him. His arousal stretched her wide and filled her to her limits. Bulma moaned as a pleasure that was almost painful engulfed her while the two of them slowly became one.

Unable to tolerate another second of his self-imposed slow torture, Vegeta thrust upward to meet Bulma, and finally planted his full length in her depths. He held that position, with his hips lifted high off the seat, and closed his eyes tightly. His mind swam at the intensity of pleasure her tight body gave him.

Bulma leaned forward on her perch to press her breasts against Vegeta's chest, moaning into his neck and clinging tightly to him. Slowly, they settled as one, back down onto the seat. Vegeta shifted his powerful grip to her hips, lending her legs his strength as they began to move together.

Vegeta guided Bulma's movements as she began to swivel her heat around his length, stroking her as completely as he himself was stroked. These frustratingly gentle movements continued until Bulma sought and captured his lips hungrily, begging with the force of her kiss, for more.

Lifting her hips above him until the glistening head of his manhood barely kissed her lower lips, Vegeta thrust into her again and again in growing desperation, as the threshold of his release continued to climb. Pulling from her body, Vegeta pushed the moaning woman down onto the seat and quickly mounted her.

Vegeta immediately set a demanding pace, slamming into Bulma until she screamed as she again reached the summit of her delight. The contractions of her orgasm were the final key Vegeta needed to reach his explosive release, howling his pleasure to the sky as he spilled his seed into her.

* * * * * *

Bulma lay wrapped in Vegeta's arms as his breathing slowed and deepened. Such a profound feeling of completeness filled her as Vegeta sleepily ran his hands over her hair and back. This was no accident – no mistake she would later regret. The two of them were somehow meant to be together. Someday they would be, she felt certain of it.

But for now, Bulma watched his features, so different than normal; soften even further as sleep took him. She stroked her fingertips over his brows and lips sadly. Tomorrow would bring the 'return' of the 'old' Vegeta and the completeness she felt now would be lost – at least for the time being.

With a heavy heart, Bulma withdrew from the warmth of Vegeta's arms to search for her clothes.

Once she was dressed Bulma made several attempts at replacing Vegeta's boxers – but he was not just asleep, he was out cold. Nothing she tried received any response and attempting to stuff a pair of underwear on a lumpy sack of cement was both exhausting and unproductive.

"Sorry, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, "but it looks like you're going home in your birthday suit."

This decision brought another problem to her mind; if she couldn't move Vegeta enough to dress him, how could she possibly get him out of the car and into his bed? Simple question – simple answer. She couldn't. Bulma giggled as she realized that Vegeta would have to sleep it off out in her car.

With that settled, Bulma finished the short drive onto the Capsule Corp grounds and to her home.

Bulma brought the car to a gentle stop between the garage and one of the equipment maintenance areas. Parked there she'd be able to see the car with its sleeping occupant clearly from her bedroom window. That would be quite important later, because Bulma definitely wanted to see how Vegeta would handle the aftermath of his night on the town, as well as how he'd react to waking up in the backseat of her car.

Pausing to smile at the peaceful expression Vegeta wore in his drunken slumber, Bulma carefully opened the hood of the car and made a few adjustments to the motion sensitive security system. Now, instead of setting off the car alarm when it sensed movement, the system would trigger the small remote control Bulma normally used to turn the system on or off, beeping to let her know Vegeta was moving around.

Of course, Bulma could have simply set the alarm without altering its system – that would have awakened her without question – but she doubted that there would be much left of her car if Vegeta's first movements of the morning were to be greeted by the blaring of horns.

Finishing her task, Bulma retrieved a sturdy picnic blanket from the trunk and gently covered the sleeping prince against the night's damp chill. With one last lingering kiss to his cheek, she headed off to her room for a quick shower and a well-earned rest.

* * * * * *

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Bulma's car alarm beeper woke her. She scrambled to the window as fast as she could, having realized that Vegeta could decide to leave the vicinity of the car quite quickly and she didn't want to miss any of the show.

* * * * * *

Midnight eyes that were usually sharp and cold as ice blinked open slowly. Vegeta felt... strange. Not ill, precisely, but neither did he feel well. It suddenly occurred to his blurry mind that he wasn't in his bed, or anywhere else he might normally choose to sleep. Instead, he was lying cramped in the back seat of an open car.

He pushed himself up just enough to take in the car's surroundings and discovered two things. First, that he was in the private sector of Capsule Corp and second, that it would be a very good idea to keep his movements to a minimum.

The simple act of sitting up had increased his slightly ill feeling dramatically and to make matters worse, he now had the beginnings of an ugly headache pounding behind his eyes. Vegeta held his head gingerly for a few minutes before he ventured to look around again.

How had he gotten here? Vegeta tried to force his thoughts back, searching for the last thing he clearly remembered.

He had been in his gravity chamber – had it exploded again? No, that wasn't it.

Concentrating made the headache worse, but eventually he was able to recall leaving the gravity chamber and having that idiot Yamcha challenge him – with a drinking contest? Yes... but they had run out of beer and had gone looking for a bar in which to settle their dispute.

That seemed about right, but his memories were fuzzy, distorted. Had that weakling somehow injured him? Impossible, but surely that earth beverage couldn't have done this to him – could it?

All in all, the Great Prince Vegeta had a miserable but well deserved hangover.

Finally, dragging himself from the car, he made another discovery. His clothes were missing. He was certain that he had been fully dressed when he'd accepted Yamcha's challenge – yet there could be no doubt about it – he was naked.

Temporarily giving up on trying to figure things out, Vegeta walked slowly and carefully toward his private refuge – the gravity chamber. He was grateful that it was still too early for any of the Briefs' to be up and about. He needed peace and he needed sleep. And he most definitely did not need anyone seeing him creep across the lawn stark naked.

* * * * * *

Bulma bit down on her pillow, which she held tightly against her mouth in an attempt to keep her laughter in check. If anyone ever needed a 'poster child' for hangovers, Vegeta would be it!! Ohhh! And his expression when he'd discovered he was naked – it was just too comical for words!

Sympathy did push its way into her thoughts briefly as she watched his painful progress across the lawn. After all, he really hadn't had much experience with any serious volume of alcohol before – but still – to have gotten into such a situation simply because he couldn't turn down a challenge? Bulma shook her head.

From Vegeta's reactions when he'd first awakened, Bulma had a pretty good idea that he remembered very little of the previous day, and probably nothing of the evening that followed. As memorable as their personal activities had been for her, to Vegeta, they had never happened.

For the moment that was just fine. Bulma knew that from now on, whenever she watched Vegeta train, or simply walk, she would remember. Sooner or later there would come an opportunity to repeat their activities, she'd make certain of that.

Smiling in anticipation, Bulma jumped back onto her warm bed. She intended to make that encounter just as memorable a 'first time' for Vegeta – as their real first time had been for her.

There was no rush. Eventually Vegeta would be hers.

* end *

BLAH-BLAH-BLAH...Authors Note:

Here's a little tidbit for those of you who are under 21, or those who simply have not had the "privilege" of making a fool of themselves with alcohol. Here is a brief rundown of the first few minutes of a real hangover morning - just for you.

First off something horrible happens. You wake up. Now it might have been the blinding glare of an overcast sunrise or even the screeching din of a songbird in the park from a mile away. It doesn't matter, you're awake.

You don't feel so hot and you try to sit up – then you wish you hadn't.

I seems someone must have snuck in while you slept and wrapped your brain in pounds and pounds of toilet paper, and then used  '10 penny nails' to hold it all in place. That, of course, is the only explanation for the extreme pain lancing thru your fuzzy-muddled mind.

You have GOT to get up, even with the sabotage to your head, because your bladder is going to burst if you don't get to the bathroom soon. Walking – Oh, not good.... Moving a little faster you reach the toilet but you can't pee yet – your stomach demands first dibs to the pot.

Eventually, several hours later, you will start to feel normal again. Hopefully, though you may wish otherwise, you can remember the details of what led up to this moment. Maybe it was even worth it to you.

No, I'm not preaching. Yes, I've been there, done that, and will no doubt do it again sometime in the future... BUT I know that a few minors 'sneak in' to read these stories, even with the warnings I put up. I wanted them to have a little insight into what poor Veggie Doll is feeling this morning. I really doubt he thinks any of it was worth his current misery – well, at least not the limited parts he actually remembers...