This is a BulmaxVegeta fic. Some cursing and two instances where the word 'sex' comes in. The timing is just before Trunks (baby) comes along. Maybe some of Bulma's mood swings throughout mean she's in a family way? A little mental bonding action maybe? I don't know. And I don't own these characters, I must admit.
No by dance-pants
He sat like a rouge lion on one of the many cliff tops that hang overlooking the city. His royal highness, Prince Vegeta, had over the years become more and more attached to the city below him.
He had, to his dismay become more and more tolerant toward the planet Earth and most of its inhabitants.
One inhabitant in particular, a Ms. Bulma Briefs, had become a permanent fixture in the Prince's mind.
At first Vegeta used to kid himself and said that it was a purely physical thing: just great sex. He was in denial then.
He was still in denial. Only recently it seemed he was in a later stage of it (still very far off from acceptance).
It seemed that the only time he could get her out of his mind was when he trained. So he did so often.
When the body and mind were overloaded with stress, energy, and though he would never admit it, pain his guilty pleasure, Bulma, got pushed to the edge of his mind. But the fact of the matter was she was still there.
'Like a disease' Vegeta scoffed inwardly at this thought and the others that immediately followed. 'The Briefs' virus' or better yet 'Death by Bulma'. 'The woman always threatened him, so, why not', he thought.
Vegeta thought back to his first of many fights with Bulma. It took place shortly after they began their "relationship". It went as follows.
Vegeta stared at Bulma across the breakfast table. He was wearing only his black spandex training shorts with a white towel draped over his shoulders.
He had completed a third of his days training regimen: waking with the sun and completing three hours of training prior to his first meal of the day.
Vegeta had already eaten a hearty meal that had been prepared for him in advance. Since he ate so much food so quickly, at meal times Bulma had deemed him unfit to eat with. Even so, Vegeta sometimes remained at the table for a while after eating his fill while Bulma ate.
Bulma glanced up from her omelet to Vegeta and, raising her eyebrow quizzically, asked, "What?"
Vegeta now frowned at her and spoke, "I've been thinking lately and I've come to realize something."
Bulma, now slightly interested, replied, "Oh, what?"
Vegeta retained the frown and stated without blinking, "You are perhaps the oddest looking female I have ever seen."
Bulma, shocked and with a tinge of anger in her voice replied, "Excuse me?"
"Well look at yourself. You are petite definitely not built for fighting. And your eyes are so pale and seem to be prone to leaks. And then there's your hair…" Vegeta was cut off by Bulma.
"What about my hair!" she shrieked and stood abruptly as she glared at Vegeta from across the table.
Vegeta, sensed how close she was to erupting, smirked and began to chuckle as he made his next statement.
"Well it is the most ridiculous shade. Blue! What an absurd color…" Vegeta trailed off as his laughter became more robust.
Bulma cut his speech short when she threw her plate at him, half eaten omelet and all. He dodged it with a quick movement of his head. Bulma then reinforced the plate with the rest of her arsenal: a glass of orange juice, fork, knife, and cooking pan.
"You son of a bitch!" she yelled. "How dare you make fun of me! I'm, I'm…" and she began to trail off.
The kitchen projectile display has amused Vegeta further. Now when her ranting ceased Vegeta found his interest peaked.
Bulma clenched her fists in anger, her head lowered slightly so that her eyes were not visible. In a snapping motion she lifted her head and looked Vegeta in the eye.
'There's that leaking problem' Vegeta thought. He frowned again as his mirth dissipated.
Bulma's eyes were now brimming with tears that threaten to cascade down her now flushed cheeks.
Vegeta referred back to her unfinished sentence. He tried to fuel her amusing wrath. "Yes?' he said. Unbeknownst to her he was genuinely interested in what she had been about to say.
Bulma switched gears. She sauntered across the room and closed the gap between her and Vegeta. When she reached him she grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him (Vegeta allowed it) until they were face to face, their lips mere millimeters apart.
"Well I am sorry you feel that way Prince Vegeta" she paused the last two words were spoken with a hiss. "But I am the best you will ever have" her tone had become more seductive than angry. She watched Vegeta's look change from one of amusement to one of quiet arousal.
In the moment that followed her statement Bulma switched gears yet again as she quickly swung her left hand from behind her body towards Vegeta's head. She had been concealing the last weapon in her available kitchen arsenal, the spatula.
Vegeta was genuinely surprised for a split second in time as she almost succeeded in smacking him. Granted the blow would have damaged the spatula an not his head but it was the idea of the woman one-upping him that really shocked him.
He moved away from the blow and grabbed Bulma's left wrist with his right hand and quite easily wrapped his fingers completely around the limb.
Bulma's barrier of control finally burst as she began to thrash about trying to succeed in causing the Prince some sort of pain.
With only her verbal arsenal at her disposal Bulma began to yell obscenities.
"God damn it! Fuck you Vegeta!" Bulma had begun to break a sweat between her struggles and curses.
She yelled louder when Vegeta "de-spatulaed" her. Then, in one motion he spun her, brought her uncooperative form to his chest, and held her there with both hand on her biceps.
Bulma ceased her struggles and looked over her shoulder, lividly, as Vegeta once again began to chuckle. She felt the vibrations of his laughter come through his muscular, bare chest and spread throughout her back. She was pressed quite tightly to him.
"What is so funny?" Bulma said hotly. She continued to try and pull away or at least create some space between their bodies.
"You" Vegeta replied in a low yet non threatening tone. Despite her anger, the reply struck a chord inside Bulma.
Vegeta relaxed his hold, and after about ten seconds he dropped his hands from her arms. At his release of the hold Bulma stepped out of arms reach from him and went into classic pissed-off stance: arms crossed legs shoulder width apart, jaw firmly set. She had her back to Vegeta.
"So you think I'm ugly. Is that it?"Bulma's question was almost inaudible. A lone tear fell down her right cheek. It stopped at her chin, lingered for a moment before it descended to the floor. It went unseen by Vegeta who remained silent.
The tears began to fall freely now as Bulma interpreted Vegeta's silence as an agreement.
"I see", she said her voice wavered the slightest bit. "I know, you were just using me for food shelter, equipment, and sex…" she trailed off at the last bit then resumed, " none of it mattered." She said with a palpable sadness in her voice.
Bulma had begun walking toward the door shortly before the conclusion of her final utterance. She had to walk past Vegeta and would not, could not look at him. Instead she opted to keep her head down. She was deep in thought.
The last statement hadn't really been addressed to Vegeta as much as it was addressed to Bulma herself. She had vocalized her own fears, doubting herself and what she and Vegeta had shared.
Just before Bulma crossed through the doorway of the large kitchen and into the next room Vegeta appeared in front of her, his body blocked her escape.
"No" he said causing her to lift her head up and regard him with a look of confusion, anger, sadness, and the tiniest bit of hope.
Vegeta grasped her chin and claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.
When he ended the kiss Bulma was left reeling. She opened her eyes having shut them tightly out of habit when Vegeta initiated the kiss. She put her hands to her mouth. Surprise was evident on her face and in her voice as she spoke.
"I thought… you thought I was… ugly" She said softly. Her head drooped again and her eyes scanned the floor as she purposely avoided Vegeta gaze.
When the woman became such a basket-case Vegeta didn't know. Usually she was nearly his equal when it came to preserving pride and overall intensity during an argument.
He reiterated his statement, "No" he said. "Not ugly, just…" Vegeta brought his right hand up to her chin gently forcing her to look at him. His left hand stroked her hair from her eyes. He studied it as it slid through his fingers.
She had curled it today and left loose. However her thrashing about earlier had brought several strands across her face.
Vegeta had never told her but he actually liked it when she styled her hair. He knew that she did it mostly for him.
Vegeta snapped out of his trance. Another smirk came to his lips as he regained his rough façade and said, "Not UGLY, ODD—they are two very different words. Really Bulma a person as seemingly smart as you should know that. You really should have one of the computers you keeps around you serve as a dictionary of some sort."
Vegeta then turned his back to her then exited the kitchen and eventually the house. He did after all have training to resume.
Bulma just stood there lost in thought of a more joyous nature. 'So he doesn't think I am ugly'
She smiled slightly then frowned looking at the mess she had mad of breakfast. She'd have to clean. Actually the robots did all the work but someone had to summon them.
When the job was done Bulma once again sat at the table this time in sit from which she could see through the kitchen window.
She could see the gravity room where Vegeta spent the most time training.
However Bulma hadn't seen Vegeta go into the gravity room and only assumed he was out there. In actuality Vegeta remained inside the house and was watching Bulma from the shadows of the living room. She had her back to him.
He could feel the contentment and relief wash over her. He heard her last thoughts.
He frowned to himself and turned away from his surveillance of Bulma. He leaned against the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, even if Bulma turned around she would not see him.
'Not ugly… never' he thought, 'beautiful' that is what Vegeta really thought.
Vegeta stopped his musings abruptly. He scowled deeply and noiselessly exited the house and stalked toward the gravity room.
He set the gravity higher than his last session and adjusted the thermostat to 85 degrees Fahrenheit. He began to warm up and perspired almost immediately.
He set the computerized energy blast simulation program to its maximum difficulty. The machines could muster deadly force for a human, and for Vegeta the blasts could mean a few hours in the dreaded healing tank.
Vegeta stood in the center of the chamber as the energy cannon hidden within the walls and ceilings whirred ominously and came to life.
He closed his eyes. His body and mind prepared for the self-imposed flagellation.
It was Vegeta's unique penance for what he considered his greatest sin: falling in love.