Author's Notes: Not really a B/V get together fic.. but there is some B/V fluffiness..

Disclaimers: I don't own any DBZ character.. and you're a poor, misguided soul if you think I do.



Boss of the House
by Ice Goddess



"Woman!" Vegeta snarled to Bulma, who, at the moment, was reading the newspaper. She didn't even look up. "Woman, where is my breakfast?"

The newspaper rustled. "Make it yourself."

Never before has someone dared to speak to the Prince of the Saiyajins like that!

"What. Was. That?" he asked in a tightly controlled voice, just in case he had heard wrong.

Bulma graced him with a bored look from over the top of her newspaper. "I. Said. Make. It. Yourself," she said in the same tone he had used. With that, she pulled the newspaper back up.

Snarling, Vegeta ripped the paper out of her hands. "And what's this bull your reading?"

"I wouldn't expect you to know," she snapped back in a flighty voice, snatching her newspaper back. "Someone with a brain the size of yours surely wouldn't have the ability to read." Her barb was concealed with a light, easy voice.

"You dare mock the Prince of the Saiyajins?!" Vegeta cried, deeply offended.

"Oh dear me!" Bulma cried with false sincerity, clutching her hand to her heart. "The poor prince is offended! Whatever shall I do?" She pretended to think for a moment, then empathetically slapped the newspaper back onto the table. "I know! I'll get myself some coffee!" She stood, then started to walk over to the coffee machine, bringing with her her empty mug. Like a flash, Vegeta was in front of her and holding her wrist with a rather painful grip. Bulma bit back a yelp and kept her face light.

"I could kill you with a flick of my finger. I should, too," Vegeta hissed, squeezing her wrist for emphasis. She winced internally. That was gunna leave a bruise.

"Tsk tsk tsk." Bulma shook her head, looking appalled. "Threatening your host. And you call yourself a prince."

"And you call yourself a hostess!" Vegeta scoffed, throwing her to the side. She just managed to catch herself before she tumbled to the ground. Vegeta frowned mentally. He would have to be more careful. These humans are much weaker than they appear. And they appear pretty damn weak.

Bulma straightened herself, favored him with a harsh glare that could turn any normal man's ice to heart, then sat back down. Vegeta was just lucky he wasn't normal.

After she had reseated herself, Bulma absentmindedly rubbed her wrist. That had hurt a lot.. though she wasn't about to admit it. In fact, it still stung quite a bit.

"Let me see that." Gentle, callused hands took her wrist and she looked up into those obsidian eyes. And practically melted. Softly, Vegeta ran his finger across her already bruising wrist. A look of regret flashed into those pools of black, but as quick as it appeared, it was gone. "Hmmph. It's nothing, woman. Does it hurt?"

"No." She wasn't lying. The pain melted away by his touch, just like when her father used to kiss her scraped knees. Was it just her, or was Vegeta holding her wrist longer than necessary?

Almost too suddenly, Vegeta dropped her hand. "Humans. Such weak creatures," he snorted. Bulma smirked.

"What I lack in brawn, I make up in brain." She lifted up her mug and took a sip, only to make a disgusted face. Bottom of the pot coffee. Yuck.

"What little brain that is," was his retort.

Bulma slammed her mug down on the table, a little bit of the brown liquid sloshing over the edge. "Take that back."

"Why should I?"

"Because I.." she paused dramatically. Actually, she was just thinking of a good threat. "Because I can destroy that damn gravity room with ease. And you.. you wouldn't be able to fix it!"

"You wouldn't."

"Try me, vegetable head."

Vegeta favored her with an icy glare, which she returned with a sweet as sugar smile. Inwardly, Vegeta had to smile back.

What a woman.

-end

A/N: Yeah yeah.. I know.. sucky ending and stuff.. but if you ask nicely, maybe I'll make a sequel..