Disclaimer: DBZ is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animations.
AN:
This story is the original Razorblade Romance by VegetaXxXInuyasha. Which is me.
5/7/18- Rewritten and edited.
.::ONE::.
Bulma jerked her safety goggles off and tossed them onto the cluttered work table in front of her. With a sigh of relief, she leaned back in the chair and propped her feet up on the table, relaxing for the first time in hours.
"Finally done with those damned things," she huffed to herself as she ran a hand through her hair.
On the tabletop sat four small, gleaming black bots. And although she despised doing anything at all for that worthless monkey, Bulma was quite satisfied with the work she had completed for him.
For the majority of the past few months, Bulma had been confined to the small workrooms down in Capsule Corporation repairing the rounded bots more times than she could count. Though she had to admit, she did like the distraction they caused, keeping her away from the mundane occurrences within Capsule Corp (or lack thereof, as of late). So every time the big-headed Saiyan waltzed into her office littering the floor with the remnants of the bots, she took them eagerly.
It became a reoccurring theme with the two. Vegeta would easily destroy the bots, and then Bulma would always be there to swoop in and save the day. But alas, as much as she loved it, Bulma had been growing tiresome of their routine; not to mention his ungrateful attitude towards her hadn't improved in the slightest; even though she had been kind enough to repair the bots for him time and time again.
This time, though, Bulma had devised a plan to spice it up a notch. For the past few weeks she had been trying to come up with a new design for the bots to where they wouldn't break under his extreme force so quickly, but again and again, Bulma came to a dead end. So, instead of trying to design a whole new bot, she had decided to turn her focus to the inside, and with her brilliant mind she had easily configured new circuity and implanted them into each bot.
Now, the small bots could absorb his energy blasts and then they would quickly send the blast back to him! A smirk grew on her face. She knew he wouldn't be expecting anything like this and she loved it! The prick needed to be knocked down from his high horse and she was intending on making that happen the best way she knew how. She felt like an evil genius! Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? Bulma just hoped it would work when the time came.
Removing her feet from the table, Bulma swiveled in the chair and stared out the opened door.
"Daaady. . ." she called out sweetly as she stood and exited the workroom.
In the middle of the central laboratory stood a damaged spaceship. It was large, almost reaching the third-floor landing, and it was beaten all to hell: red paint peeling on its broken rudders, a colossal dent caving in the entire left side, each window busted. The ship was beyond repair, at least in her eyes. Bulma would have refused to work on it; but yet, her father, even on the latter side of sixty, had agreed to fix it. His age didn't stop him, and she admired him immensely for his hard work ethic. Though, mending old ships was one of her father's favorite hobbies anyways.
"Dad?" Bulma called out again, walking around toward the open entrance of the ship. She peaked her head inside to find a dark, empty cabin. "You in here?"
"Yes, dear," her father replied, his disembodied voice drifting through the interior of the ship
"Where?" she questioned as she backed out.
"Up here," he said, his voice much clearer this time.
Bulma looked up towards the sound, and her eyes instantly bulged as alarm bells sounded within her mind. Her sixty-eight-year-old father was practically dangling off the roof of the ship!
"Kami, Dad, get down from there before you fall!" she yelled, quickly scrambling around the large lab looking for a ladder or any apparatus to help him down. How could he think to be up there alone? Especially at this time of night with the other employees gone for the day. While in her haste Bulma was suddenly stopped by laughter. . . Her father's laughter. As her cheeks flushed bright red, she turned to glare up at him slowly.
"What?" he questioned as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
"Oh gosh, honey, I'm fine see?" He tapped the end of the blowtorch he held against the boots he was wearing. "They're the same type of gravity boots I made for Goku when he was on that trip to that planet Namek."
Bulma attempted to sustain her death scowl, and he continued.
"They have powerful reinforced magnets on the bottom. Don't you remember?" He chuckled. "Now enough worrying about me, what is it that you need?"
"Well," she began after a moment, pausing only to contain the resentment in her voice. "I need you go to take the finished bots to our guest."
Bulma hated speaking of the alien as if he were an actual friend of the family'. She was only living through this nightmare because Goku had asked her. The guy needed a place to stay, and Capsule Corp was the most obvious choice. And at first, Bulma was all for it. Helping out someone who was going to be protecting the planet she lived on was something Bulma couldn't turn down. Her friends did need all the help they could get. But as the days slowly began turning into months, she had grown less fond of her once generous offer. The man was a complete animal with no sense of respect for anyone or anything! Vegeta's disrespected everyone since he's arrived and it has only gotten worse. So, as what any civilized woman would do, she had decided not to speak to him; and needless to say, there had been a lot less conflict in the house.
"Of course I will, dear," her father said cheerfully, the crows feet deepening as he smiled. "But not at the moment though. Let me finish up what I've been working on then I should be able to call it a night. Shouldn't take more than an hour or two."
"An hour or two?" she repeated loudly. "You need to take them to him now! He's been waiting all day."
"And he'll have to wait a little longer," Dr. Briefs interjected sharply. "I'm not leaving until I've reapplied the injector coil and reinforced the left fender."
"Daddy please!" she begged, clasping her hands together in desperation. Bulma knew the monkey was probably growing antsier by the minute without the bots to train with and she was trying at all cost not to let him blow up on the only person who was around him at the moment: her mother.
"Why don't you ask your mother?" her father said, following along with her train of thought. "I'm sure she'd be more than happy to give them to him."
Bulma dropped her hands and resisted a facepalm. Of course, she could ask her mother. She felt dumb for not thinking of it herself. That woman did have a strange attraction towards that man, and it would be no problem for her to deliver the package, Bulma was sure of it.
Seeing the registration upon her face, Dr. Briefs nodded once and lowered the face shield, relit the blowtorch and picked right up where he had left off without a hitch, sparks immediately flying.
Slowly, Bulma sauntered back into the small room she had spent the majority of the day in, fatigue instantly ravaging her body. She grabbed a capsule case from the drawer and pulled a small pink one out. Clicking the top, Bulma tossed it on the bots, and instantly a flash of smoke covered them. Once the smoke cleared the capsule sat among the litter that trashed the table, the bots safely stored within. With a smile, she grabbed it and turned to exit the room, thankful to be done for the day.
Once she gave the capsule to her mother, Bulma headed up to her room. A nice, long, and relaxing bubble bath was calling her name.
XxX
Sweat beads rolled down the sides of his face and into his dark eyes, burning them with every blink. Vegeta had been in the Gravity Chamber for only a few hours this time when his atomic blast easily destroyed the bots. He snarled as he thought back to the moment they had practically disintegrated into thin air. Cheap human technologies. They were no match against the things he had come into contact with throughout his vast travels in space. Way more advanced devices had graced his presence than what the blue-haired woman produced from her laboratory.
Vegeta spat onto the floor, coming to terms with the hand he had been dealt. Here he was, a prince! And not just any prince, prince of the all mighty Saiyan Warriors! A prince wasn't supposed to be helping his enemies protect a worthless mudball planet. They were supposed to be cowering, sniveling beings who groveled at his feet. They should be serving him, fighting for him, and laying their lives down on the line. Not the other way around. But yet, here he was. Vegeta detested himself. How could he have succumbed to this? This was not him. He didn't help anyone. Especially ones he had attempted to kill in the past, and vice-versa.
He was a failure. He'd had a direct objective, and it hadn't concluded the way he had planned. And not only was he outsmarted by some pesky humans, but his pride had also taken a significant hit below the belt once he'd learned Kakarot had ascended into the legendary Super Saiyan while on Namek.
"Dammit!" he yelled, slamming his fist into the salt-and-pepper tile, cracking it.
Shame coated his body as thick as sweat. How could a lower class Saiyan like Kakarot ascend before him? Kakarot hadn't lived a tough life. Unlike what Vegeta had endured, Kakarot had had it easy. He hadn't trained in grueling conditions on vast planets out in the far reaches of space; while under Frieza no less. He hadn't combated with a thousand different species or wiped an entire planet clean with a single blow. No! He wasn't the prince of all Saiyans. He didn't have royal blood flowing through his veins. Kakarot was just about as useless as a human.
But yet, he'd made it. . . He had morphed into the ultimate legend of his people: A Super Saiyan.
For a quick second Vegeta scanned the area with his senses then quickly recoiled once he had found what he'd been looking for. The three beings were north of the city. Each of their power levels significantly higher than what they had been on Namek. Vegeta cursed himself for being stupid. The anger that he had been trying to control began boiling out, shaking the chamber. He blew out a puff of air, attempting to control himself. He knew better than to reach out and check up on his enemies. Kakarot was getting stronger with each passing day, and Vegeta hated every minute of it. He wished Kakarot into the deepest, darkest pits of Hell.
"Hello. Excuse me."
Vegeta jerked his head quickly towards the entrance. He hadn't sensed anyone walking close to his confinements. The loathing he felt toward himself greatly intensified. This was not him! He wasn't usually so self-indulged with his thoughts. It was this planet. It had to be. It had to be the cause of his distracted thoughts. Maybe it was the air he was breathing or the food he was eating; though he had to admit, the food was significantly better than what he was used to. He had to get away from here before this planet consumed him. Vegeta owed it nothing.
So what if these alleged androids were coming three years from now? He should just return to space and enjoy the fireworks the androids were going to cause when they destroyed the earth for him. But no, he couldn't do that. His ego wouldn't let him. If anyone was going to kill Kakarot and destroy this planet, it was going to be him. Vegeta would be the one to have Kakarot's lifeblood trailing down his fingertips in the end as the poor soul begged and pleaded for his life. That would be the day.
"Ah, hellooo, Vegeta?"
"WHAT?" he yelled in the direction of the door.
The gravity pull began to lighten as his darkened energy threatened to collapse the interior of the room. The woman outside shrieked as the chamber gave a deep, creaking moan, its structure threatening to snap. Vegeta clamped his jaw shut and blew out a puff of air through his nose. The hatred that pumped inside of him was clouding his judgment. Undeniably he knew Kakarot consumed his thoughts too much; how else could she have snuck up on him without his knowledge? He needed to get a grip.
Finally taking a few moments to calm down, Vegeta pushed himself up from the prone position he was in. He powered down the chamber and exited, not feeling the need to train anymore. As the door of the chamber slid open, he was greeted by the small blonde woman. She stood at the end of the ramp, smiling brightly up at him.
"There you are dear," she said, chuckling to herself. "I thought that thing was about to blow. How are you this evening?"
Never cutting his eyes in her direction, Vegeta made his way past her and walked over onto the small deck that extended from the back side of the house. He heard the woman trailing behind him and rolled his eyes. As he reached the opened sliding glass doors, she spoke again, the information she relayed stilling his steps.
"I have the bots for you. Bulma just brought them up a moment ago."
She walked quickly around, light on her feet, and stopped right in front of him, holding out a small pink capsule that concealed his bots. She stared up at his hardened features, her bright blue eyes never showing any fear.
"Are you hungry?"
Vegeta gave the woman a sneer and snatched the capsule from her hand. Now that he had the bots the urge to continue his routine was growing but his stomach protested otherwise. It gave off a loud, noticeable growl. She giggled, his sneer turning into a broader, threatening glare.
"C'mon sweetie, I have something almost ready to come out of the oven. I made it especially for you!"
The woman turned on a dime and strolled onward into the massive kitchen. Remorsefully, Vegeta followed behind silently. She walked around the large island and over to the oven, taking a peek through the small window. She placed a mitt upon her hand and pulled out a large steaming glass plate. The aroma of food instantly hit his nostrils, and his mouth began to water. Vegeta suddenly realized how hungry he was, and he almost couldn't restrain himself from grabbing the large plate himself and devour it face first. But holding himself to a higher standard, Vegeta held his ground and took a seat at the large dining room table. The woman scooped a large helping onto a plate and brought it over to him.
"Here you go, sir."
Vegeta smirked at her words. It was about time somebody took some recognition for his royal lineage and treated him with respect. He slowly picked up the fork, deciding the bots could wait just a little while longer. It was about time he replenished his energy anyways.
XxX
The bubbles that had once filled the oval tub had all but disappeared. Most of her body was now visible through the warm, clear water. She had her hair pulled up into a messy bun, and the small strands she had missed were damp and stuck to her neck. Bulma had her eyes closed as she relaxed against the back of the tub.
The bath had been a great idea. She had soaked in the water for longer than she had anticipated, but it had allowed her muscles to unwind fully. Now after a good thirty minutes, she resembled a shriveled prune more than a human being, and it was time to get out. Bulma leaned up and flipped the switch on the tub, releasing the drain plug. Humming to herself she crawled out, and before grabbing a towel, Bulma leaned over the counter and wiped away the condensation from the mirror. She checked herself out and smiled, giving her reflection a satisfied nod.
Still got it! She thought conceitedly to herself.
Even on the early side of thirty, she looked more like a twenty-year-old. Thank Kami she took after her mother. Feeling smug with herself, Bulma grabbed a towel and began drying herself as she exited the chilly bathroom. Once dry, she dressed in her pajamas and then slipped outside onto the balcony for her secret pleasure: a smoke.
It was something she kept from the people closest to her. Well. . . attempted to keep from them. She was sure her mother had smelled the scent on her before, but if so, she never said a word. Lifting a single cigarette to her mouth Bulma lit it and inhaled its smoky goodness. She held the smoke inside her lungs for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly and instantly relaxed against the railing. The sun had dipped behind the vast mountain range that ran a few miles south of West City hours ago, blanketing the world around her in darkness. Warm winds blew softly through her damp, tangled hair.
It felt good being outside at this time of night. Alone. She found that the older she got, the more she didn't mind the quiet moments in life. Now that she was over the thirty-mile mark, Bulma didn't feel the need to venture out every night as she had during her twenties. Find her some strawberry ice cream and good drama, and she was down for the night. It had been quite some time since she had enjoyed a peaceful night alone. . . With a cigarette. Lately, Yamcha had been dragging her out nightly to go gallivanting around with his teammates from the baseball team.
Oh, Yamcha. . .
She took another hard puff off the cigarette, realizing she hadn't thought about him all day. Bulma frowned, feeling guilty. He was her boyfriend after all. He should be at the forefront of her mind. He shouldn't be something she forgot about. Though being cooped up in the lab usually did distract her pretty well. But still. . .
"Blame Goku," she said out loud.
It wasn't her idea to have him stay here. And it wasn't her fault the bots weren't holding up against his attacks either. Bulma had been stuck down in the lab and had hardly seen the light of day in weeks, but she found she did enjoy the time she had by herself. She enjoyed working her fingers to the bone, tweaking the bots to do this or that. Churning the gears in her mind, coming up with new ideas. She enjoyed getting grease in her hair and dirt under her nails. Sometimes Bulma preferred sweats and messy hair over make-up, short skirts, or high heels. But ever since Yamcha had been drafted onto the Tiatans Baseball Team, he was all formal attire and group outings. And, unfortunately, so was she, as she was a permanent fixture upon his arm.
Her frown deepened even more, and she took another puff. Yamcha wasn't the rugged young man she used to know. He'd changed. In his defense, he still was the loving Yamcha she'd always known. He even surprised her with gifts and took her out to eat at her favorite restaurants, but there was just something missing from him now, and Bulma couldn't quite put her finger on it. Was the love she once felt for him dying? She quickly shook her head, banishing the thoughts from her mind. She didn't want to think about anything like that at the moment and took another long drag from the cigarette.
Bulma yawned, in desperate need of rest. Her mind was slowly slipping, and it needed a recharge. But of course, she couldn't have her sweet, peaceful rest that she so longed for just yet. Goku would soon be arriving to pick up an enhanced medical kit her father had developed years ago. Bulma had been able to tweak it slightly where the pack could easily heal a ki blast wound or any of the type. Goku hoped this device would appease Chi-Chi for the time being to allow Gohan to continue his training.
Sighing, Bulma took one last puff off the cigarette and tossed it away in the small bucket she had placed in the corner of her balcony, and just when she was about to slip back into her room a loud engine roared to life behind her. She turned around to see the lights of the gravity room illuminating the entire backyard. The door to the chamber slid open, and Bulma caught sight of Vegeta's bare back as he walked toward the chamber. She stood and watched him as walked, transfixed. Bulma couldn't deny that her mother did have taste, he was an excellent specimen of a man; he was very good looking.
And, as if the man knew exactly what had just crossed her mind, he quickly turned and stared straight up at her; a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed. Full blown embarrassment coated Bulma. She promptly backed and blindly reached for the doorknob, their eyes never unlocking. Finally, after a moment of searching, her hand found the doorknob, and she quickly retreated into her dark bedroom, slamming the balcony door shut behind her. She ran over onto her bed and buried her face in the blankets, praying to Kami above he hadn't noticed her beet red features.
XxX
"Stupid woman," Vegeta murmured to himself as the door of the Gravity Chamber shut behind him.
He pulled the small pink capsule from his shorts, clicked the top, and tossed it before him. Once the smoke cleared four, shiny black bots sat gleaming upon the floor. Not wanting to waste any time with warm-ups, Vegeta headed straight for the control panel ready to get the action underway. He turned the knob to the desired level, one he was quite used to, and hit the power button. The room instantly turned a deep crimson and Vegeta braced himself. Once the gravity began to take hold, the small bots sparked to life and lifted up into the air, rotating quietly above his head.
Vegeta closed his eyes to center himself, and after a moment of collecting a significant amount of ki, he reopened his eyes and quickly shot the blast up toward the bots. He was quite surprised when they held up, but his surprise was short lived when they began tossing the ball of energy between themselves as if they were playing catch. His brow arched, curious as to what they were doing. Within seconds a conclusion quickly came to mind: the woman had fucked them up. This wasn't normal behavior for the bots. A screw was loose somewhere. . . She hadn't tightened the bolts just right. . .
Immediately frustrated, Vegeta took one step towards the control panel to shut off the gravity but was instantly stopped in his tracks by an agonizing pain in his side. The pain swiftly ran through his body at an alarming rate. It felt like molten lava was flowing through his veins with each pump of his heart. Vegeta fell quickly to the floor before he realized exactly what had happened to him.
As he shouted out in pain, blood splattered everywhere on the floor. He spat, his saliva feeling like acid in his mouth. His hands quickly pressed against his slick slide where the blast had come into contact. Blood was pooling around his body quickly. That damned woman had tweaked with the bots! She had messed them up, and now he was paying the price! Pure rage and adrenaline began to take over his body. He had been caught by surprise by a fucking human! A woman of all beings! Vegeta only saw red. He knew it wasn't a mortal wound and once he was able to stand again he vowed to let that woman have it, and Vegeta didn't care if he killed her or not.