~Candlelight~
"Jesus, Vegeta, your blood pressure is through the roof."
The woman scowled at his results, her pretty mouth turned down. She was displeased, and the feeling was mutual. When Bulma was upset, it was only a matter of time before she would unleash an unholy tirade on whoever was in the vicinity. And of all the luck, Vegeta was trapped in her lab being subjected to a physical examination. It was a condition she had put in place for use of the GR, ever since he blew the last one up.
Bothersome woman.
Why did she care if he killed himself? The woman wasn't soft-hearted; she had suggested they kill Dr. Gero before the scientist could become a threat. So why hadn't she come to the same conclusion about him?
"How are you sleeping?" she asked.
Terrible, but that wasn't any of her business. "Enough."
Bulma rolled her eyes and grabbed something from a draw. "Here."
Vegeta scowled down at the solid ball of wax she pushed into his hand. It had a similar weight and texture to soap. "The hell is this?"
"It's a candle. Try meditating."
His eyes flicked up to her and narrowed. "Why would I do that?"
"For starters, to help you friggin relax."
"I don't need to relax. I need to get stronger." The words tasted bitter as he spat them out, the legendary still as elusive today as it ever was, haunting him day and night.
She sighed. "Meditating will also strengthen your mind."
He considered that, rolling the idea in his head as he did the candle in his fingers. A great warrior needed a sharp mind as well as great power. "How?" he finally asked.
~xox~
Sweat dripped from his jaw and trickled down his spine, his breathing was still labored from performing katas all morning. The plump little ball of wax sat on the GR's floor, mocking him. This was going to be a damned waste of his time, but the woman had challenged him. He couldn't let that go unmet.
"First, light the candle," Bulma had instructed. "I can give you a lighter."
Please. He let out a deep breath and channeled his ki. The air about him buzzed, evaporating the sweat on his skin. He gathered a ball of bright blue light in his palm—
And blew up the candle. Wax splattered in all directions, showering the GR with melted white globs.
Ah. Fuck.
Throwing himself onto his back, he pressed his palms into his eyes and swore heavily in Saiyan. Now what? There had to be a way of getting another candle without Bulma finding out about this.
~xox~
Vegeta sat cross-legged on the floor and stared at the candle Panchy had provided. It took a bit more control, but he lit it. A small success. The fire flickered in the humid GR air. He tried his best to regulate his breathing as Bulma had suggested.
In…
"Breathe deep and slowly."
Out…
"Focus on the candlelight."
In…
"Think of something comforting."
Out…
"Let your mind wander."
Comforting, comforting… What was comforting? Strength. Power. The annihilation of his enemies. Being the strongest in the universe.
Technically, Frieza was the strongest, but Kakarot beat him. As did that boy-from-the-future.
So, you're the third strongest.
That… doesn't count. They had an unfair advantage. Once he unlocked the Super Saiyan, then he would—
And when will that be? Kakarot became a Super Saiyan 10 minutes after learning about it. You've been trying, what, your whole life?
I…
Who are you trying to fool? You failed then. You'll fail now. No wonder your father gave you up. He saw the futility of pinning our race's hopes on the likes of you and sold you for a meal ticket. That's all you're worth. The boy-from-the-future saw it as well. Nothing more than chump-fodder.
You're going to die.
And this time, no one is going to wish you back.
Vegeta's head jerked up from where he had nodded off. He rubbed his brow, the sting of the flame having scorched his skin. Fucking hell. With a snarl, he hurled the candle away. It lobbed against the wall with a wet thunk.
Relaxing was clearly overrated.
~xox~
Another day, another failed training session, another weekly physical exam.
Bulma shone a pen-light into his eyes to test his pupils' reactions. "How is meditating going?"
Vegeta's cheek twitched, fingers curling. "…I did not find it beneficial."
"Oh? That's a shame."
He waited, tensed, but she didn't press the issue. Thank fuck. Gradually, his fingers uncurled.
She busied herself completing a series of tasks to assess his well-being.
"Hands."
He obeyed, the routine familiar now. First she inspected his palms, then the backs of his fingers and nails. A crease pinched her brow as she thumbed his roughed-up knuckles. "Haven't you been wearing your gloves?"
"They fell apart."
"Ugh, why didn't you say something, dummy? I'll make you a new pair."
He said nothing, not wanting her to think he owed her a debt. If she insisted on going out of her way for him, then that was on her.
Bulma continued the physical, running her hands over him before jotting down her results. He watched her work. Normally he would find such a process invasive, but there was a rhythm and purpose to what she did, something oddly relaxing about her actions and the way she tended to him. It allowed him a chance to breathe, to get out of his own head.
She pulled out the little 'listening' device whose name he couldn't remember, bringing it to her mouth to breathe on and warm before placing it over his heart. He didn't need such a device, his Saiyan hearing far superior. For a brief moment in time they were one, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. If he cared to, he could hear hers too, beating ever so faster than his own.
She looked up, and their eyes met. Hers blue and sparkling, like pretty pools of rippling water, cool and inviting. She was so close, but strangely he didn't mind the proximity.
"Breathe in.." she instructed.
He did.
"Out…"
He exhaled, and with it, let go of months of frustration, losing himself to the moment.
"In…
"…and out…"
-.-
"Vegeta?"
The word, spoken softly, whispered over him like a summer breeze. The woman had a way of saying his name that no one else did. Others snapped his name in fear or anger, but she had a lilt, an inflection that beckoned to him.
"Vegeta." Delicate fingers brushed soothingly over his hair.
He jerked awake, sitting up and blinking in confusion. What the… He had fallen asleep? Looking up, he was mortified to find he had nodded off right against her collarbone.
Bulma smiled sweetly at him, retracting her hand from his hair. "Sorry to wake you. I guess I was wrong about you needing to relax more, huh?"
He scrubbed a hand over his face, deeply disconcerted. He never meant to let his guard down. Exhaustion, that must be it. What other explanation was there?
Bulma patted the bench. "C'mon, big fella. Lay back. I need some blood samples."
He complied out of habit, his mind too caught up on his slip than on her, barely registering the pillow she propped under his head.
"Just relax," she instructed, taking his arm.
Bulma stroked the Saiyan's arm, pretending to prepare him for tests she never intended on running. His fingers curled once, twice, then went limp, the stubborn idiot falling asleep. Poor guy. Bulma should have guessed he would be his own worst enemy when it came to relaxing. Still, if he found something about her presence comforting, then she was happy to play Sandman.
She turned off the overhead lights and lit a candle. Bulma worked quietly on some reports, Vegeta sleeping soundly on the bench next to her.
~xo0xo~
AN: drabble for Jadefyre who requested that Vegeta learn to meditate to chill out in between training sessions, with the prompt 'candlelight'.