Title: Ceiling Tiles Only Have So Much Appeal
Genre: Dragonball Z
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Vegeta/Bulma
Warnings: Bad language mostly and abuse of commas and semi-colons as necessary-they were asking for it!
Words: 2,223
Author's Notes: This is just my take on what happened during DBZ when Vegeta decided he'd blow up ye olde gravity room. Believe it or not, I've not actually watched that part of the series, but I have read enough accounts I think that this might be a valid version. As far as I'm concerned it is anyway, if anyone else likes it double yay!
The word woman is capitalized most times when Vegeta uses it because it is his address for Bulma. Basically to him, it's her name and is going to be dealt with accordingly.
For those of you who are reading my HYD fan-fiction and might have stumbled over here, I do apologize for the stagnation with that story but I seem to have hit a bump in my plot line while writing "Making Ends Meet". Hopefully I will get out of it soon, but I wouldn't count on it as there are still a lot of real life things that are causing problems for me to write anything other than oneshots like this one.
Also, it hasn't been beta-ed. I apologize for that, but it's just a pesky oneshot. Hopefully the errors aren't too bad.
Summary: After Vegeta manages to destroy the gravity room with such a spectacle, he wakes up to find Bulma next to him. It's not her presence that confuses him, but what she says that makes him think twice.
Ceiling Tiles Only Have So Much Appeal
Ceiling. White tiled, industrial looking Earth ceiling. Vegeta had woken up to more unpleasant things in his lifetime, but usually he could recall the reason why. The ceiling however, was a mystery to him as he distinctly remembered he had not passed out or gone to sleep on his back.
As well as he could remember anyway.
Which wasn't saying much apparently.
Tensing his muscles, he tested them to see exactly how sore he was in an attempt to sit upright. As searing pain shot down from the back of his neck along the column of his spine, and outwards to his extremities thereafter, he decided big movement wasn't going to happen for a little while. The pain wasn't the foremost problem, taking his entire life into account that was what these silly Earthlings would call a 'cake walk.' However, it was the loss of fine and common motor control that would keep him completely still for a day or so as he tried to move his hand above his body and realized he could only bring it level with his hip at best.
Exhaling painfully and impatiently Vegeta did the only thing he could do. Stare at the ceiling which still puzzled him.
He had guessed by now, groggy and unpleasant as he was, that someone had taken him into the Capsule Corporation medical room. It took a little while for the memory to set in that he had utterly destroyed the gravity training room of which he had been burying himself in training with for the better part of his time on this silly mud ball planet.
As he became aware of the all too sterile smell of the medical room he also noticed the sound of breathing that wasn't his. Slow and rhythmic, almost relaxed breathing. Whomever it was, was asleep. Glancing as far right as he could without moving his head he made a half-hearted grunting noise of anger. He couldn't see who it was without moving his head.
He would've cursed if he had the breath in him to do so.
As it was he decided he'd rather know who dared to be in his presence, SLEEPING of all things, and witness him in such a depleted state. Who knows who all had seen him like this, but he wouldn't stand becoming some sort of entertainment show; he'd kill them later or maybe just maim them severely if he was in a better mood. He could take care of himself just fine thank you very much. Turning his head, ever so slowly, he focused on his breathing to chase away the sharp pin pricks of pain that his nerves were punishing him with.
As soon as he saw the bright blue shade of hair he knew who it was, but snapping his head back so fast would have been more painful than moving it so he decided to let it rest in it's now sideways position for a time. Besides, at least staring in this direction he had some option of scenery as opposed to those horridly bland ceiling tiles.
Silly girl, she had fallen asleep hunched over the table next to the cot he was on. He vaguely wondered if it had been she to drag him to this infernal place with the horrible IV tube he could feel jammed into his left arm. Doubting she would have the strength, he supposed she had either summoned help or invented something. For all he cared she could've wiggled her nose and made him appear in the bed as if by magic(°); he was still upset at being seen in such a humiliating state.
Frowning slightly in disapproval he noted the Woman had begun to drool on herself as well as the table she was propped on, having fallen asleep on her hand which skewed her mouth partially open. Disgusting, he thought, to fall asleep so soundly when the other person in the room could easily kill you with a flick of their wrist, unconscious or not.
Glancing around the rest of the room, all without moving his head farther, he wondered briefly how long he'd been out. Definitely not as long as a human would've been, had they survived such a blast. He attempted to sneer at the weakness of the people on this planet he was training on, but was rewarded with the slow feeling of a painful cramp working it's way into one of the tendons of his neck.
Turning his head slowly back to it's original position, he heard the woman wake from her sleep with a rather violent jolt from what he could hear. Quickly he closed his eyes, not wanting to deal with the infernal harpy's pity or sympathy. He could pretend to ignore the fact she had seen him like this, but not if she knew he was conscious.
At the table, Bulma began to stir with a groan.
"Ugh." She said as she proceeded to transfer the drool that had collected on her hand onto her jeans. She hated falling asleep over an assignment, especially when the damned 'assignment' in question wouldn't be grateful for her efforts one tiny little bit. Looking over at said assignment she noticed his eyes were still closed, but his vitals were stable now which made her breathe a little easier. As much as she may argue with Vegeta she certainly didn't wish him dead; if for nothing else other than the fact of the ever growing threat of the androids.
His pillow had been shifted slightly and she wondered if he had woken up or simply tossed in his sleep.
Scooting her chair out slightly and stretching, the blue-haired genius reached her arms above her head for a few seconds while yawning semi-audibly. What time was it anyway? Judging from the pool of drool she had woken up to, she couldn't have been asleep for more than twenty to thirty minutes tops.
The IV bag that hung at Vegeta's arm was almost empty and quietly she cursed. "Damn Saiyans and their weird healing abilities eating all the IV bags. Even their damned veins eats like they do." At this rate, Vegeta was going to run the medical department out of intravenous fluid; not that Capsule Corporation couldn't afford it, but it was the principle of the thing!
Vegeta had to fight the ingrained smirk wanting to appear on his face at the Woman's irritated huffing.
"I saw that, smart ass. How long have you been conscious?"
Dammit. Immediately his want-to-be smirk relaxed into his natural grimace. He wasn't going to acknowledge her if he could help it. Hearing her rifling through something, then feel the small tube in his arm shift slightly and settle, he assumed she was hooking up another one of those 'IV bags' at the end of the metal pole the tube was connected to. Vegeta had been in contact with enough of them during his stay at the Briefs' home since he had commenced his training, but he couldn't say he approved of them other than they made him feel a little less dehydrated whenever had healed well enough from his injuries to feed himself.
A heavy and annoyed sigh from Bulma broke the silence of the room again, followed by more grumbled curses, presumably at him.
Under the sterile covers that lay over him, Vegeta wiggled his fingers that lay by his sides. Still a good bit of pain, but it was dissipating. Good. At this rate he would only be laid up for a few days, if that. His eyes opened as the sound of a pencil scratching characters down on a sheet of paper filled the silence of the room; his attention vaguely wandered to what the Woman may have been writing down.
She certainly wasn't writing down the physics of the damned ceiling tiles, that was almost certain.
After many minutes of thinking and trying to force the thought away, one thought kept bugging him: Why? This strange Earth female was treating his wounds in her pathetic Earth fashion, and by now she certainly knew she wasn't going to receive anything in return and most certainly not his thanks. So why did she attempt to take care of him? If she really wanted to help him she could build a rejuvenation tank but he doubted that she was that smart or that Earth had the correct materials to build such a machine.
Maybe she just liked seeing him in pain? That could be a possible answer, but if it was true she was particularly good at hiding it from him. He knew if it were him, he'd never hide the fact that he took pleasure in someone else's pain. Judging from his previous encounters with the Woman, he doubted she could keep anything hidden that ran across her mind, scatter-brained as he had observed so far. She certainly wouldn't have fallen asleep if she had intended to catch him in a moment of pain either, so he was back to square one.
The silence stretched on as he thought of possible reasons for the crazy blue-haired earthling to try and take care of him. When he couldn't seem to find any answers he finally gave in.
"Why?" He asked, barely audible. After the question was out of his mouth he instantly regretted it and hoped she hadn't heard him. It was just so damned boring staring at the fucking ceiling.
At first Bulma wasn't quite sure she had heard him, however after her brain processed the noise he had made she understood the question and answered accordingly.
"Because, you're part of the hope of this planet now. I couldn't just let you lay out there without any medical attention, who knows what would've happened. It would have been insensitive of me to just ignore the situation," She wondered faintly if he would've recovered without any medical attention at all. Naturally he would tell her he would have, but Bulma wasn't as sure. It had been a pretty mean blast. Hell, that side of the compound was still scorched from the aftermath! She wasn't used to dealing with Saiyans and their healing ability—even after traveling around with Goku for so long as a kid—so she wasn't sure if he would've bled to death or what, but she didn't really want to chance it and be responsible, even through inaction. Grumpily she added under her breath, "something you couldn't even begin to be able to understand."
Vegeta grunted, whether in assent or complaint was uncertain, "I'll remind you I'm only training so I can beat those pathetic androids by myself and then turn around and lash Kakarrot's sorry ass into the grave. I want nothing to do with 'the hope of this planet' as you so put it." He would have turned his head if he could do it without giving away too much of his condition.
After another long stretch of silence her voice rang again with some melancholy, "I just don't understand why you keep striving to beat Goku. I mean it's not like he's done anything to you directly."
That was it! Vegeta was not going to lay here and deal with some stupid Earthling's ramblings about his life. What did she know about anything other than her science toys? Nothing, that's what!
"Of course you wouldn't stupid Woman, you're not Saiyan. You couldn't possibly understand why." He snorted defensively and his lungs let him know they were not pleased by causing him some more pain in retaliation. None of which he showed. Gritting his teeth he turned his head to stare away from the annoying girl who dared plague him with unworthy questions, dismissing her as best as he could without words. The edges of his vision were now starting to haze with soft white.
Bulma frowned, she hadn't meant to insult him. She just honestly didn't understand. However that did not mean she wouldn't retaliate. With half hearted venom she retorted, "I just thought you were better than that being the 'Prince of the Saiyans'. That's all." Somewhat dejectedly she grabbed her mug that was on the table and left the room to get some more coffee and another file of research to keep her occupied. Maybe one that wouldn't make her fall asleep while keeping an eye on that snotty 'Prince of the Saiyans' for his own good. She honestly didn't know why she bothered sometimes, but she did. Maybe he'd go back to sleep and she could just wait till her dad came in to take over the shift of watching the ungrateful wretch.
While she left Vegeta puzzled over the last statement she left hanging in the air. 'Better than that'? What the hell was that supposed to mean? There were a ton of hidden meanings left to stumble over in that phrase. Perhaps it was the intense pain clouding his vision but he could swear she had just alluded to him being better than Kakarrot. Releasing the muscles tensing in his neck to their original position of staring straight ahead Vegeta let the white fog at the corners of his vision take him over.
As he fell back into unconsciousness, he was left to dream on her statement and wonder if the Woman had just earned a little more respect from himself unknowingly.
°- Kudos to you that got this Bewitched reference. ;) I had originally had it posted as I Dream of Jeannie (which if I had stopped to think a darn minute would've made it obvious), but thanks to Seravi Boo and SierraLarson for bringing it to my attention!