Vegeta sat at the end seat of the bar, swishing the remaining whiskey in his glass around absent-mindedly. The club Goku had dragged him to this Friday night was small—smaller than the big commercial clubs where all the local college kids went to get their rocks off—and the music pumped so loudly through the speakers he could feel the reverberations in his chest. Since Bulma died three years ago, Goku and Vegeta had been spending more and more time together, and going out on Friday nights had become sort of a ritual. Goku would lose himself in the crowd, in dancing, in women (or men, whatever struck his fancy at any particular moment) and Vegeta would sit at the bar and drink until he could barely fly home. It wasn't that he was depressed, although he missed Bulma more than he'd ever thought he could. He just felt…listless. Aside from sparring with Goku and his son, he hadn't had a good fight since Omega Shenron, and that was 8 years past. He needed something more, although he didn't think in such concrete terms sitting as he was in the midst of hundreds of drunken club-goers; he just swished his drink and inhaled deeply.
Sighing inwardly, Vegeta spun on the bar stool and looked out over the crowd. There were so many people packed on the dance floor that it looked like one undulating mass of flesh and sweat. Lights flashed, forcing him to squint his eyes to see through the artificial fog that had been pumped into the room. Despite the number of people, though, Vegeta easily found Goku. There he was, almost in the middle of the dance floor, rocking in time to the music with a stupid look on his face. He watched him for a few minutes, and could sense (though he couldn't really see due to the lighting and the fog) that Goku was watching him in return. Vegeta had given up on trying to puzzle that one out—after years of constantly being surprised by Goku, he was over it. Let Goku look at him that way, what did he care? Vegeta found himself thinking, then, about the time that they had been together…the way Goku's dark eyes filled with emotion during their love-making, the feel of his muscled body against his, his probing tongue venturing all over Vegeta's body as he begged for release…
With a twitch, Vegeta shook off the memory. He found himself thinking about Goku in that way more often than he'd like. He had to admit it, though. For good or ill, he and Goku shared a bond.
Suddenly, Vegeta caught a whiff of a smell—strange, in such a crowded place—that made his head snap to the club's entrance. He inhaled and felt it assail his senses. Sickly sweet, sort of like flowers that had been left in their vase too long. He thought, for a fleeting minute, of his mother. And then, the being that the scent was emanating from stepped from the darkened hallway that lead to the front entrance into the light of the club.
It was a woman. Strange, that a regular woman would put off such an evocative scent. Many things about this were strange, he realized. She walked deliberately and confidently, as someone that had been to this particular club hundreds of times, although he couldn't remember ever seeing her there before. Vegeta realized he wasn't the only one in the room transfixed by the club's newest patron—how not, when she looked the way she did? Head to toe, she was impressively beautiful. Her long, dark hair hung stick straight to the middle of her back, her bangs just brushing her eyelashes. The dress she was wearing (if you could even call it that, Vegeta mused, as it looked more like an over-sized T-shirt) hugged her body's curves and sparkled in the strobe lighting. The shortness of her dress paired with a wickedly sexy pair of high heels made her legs look incredible – muscular, tanned and smooth.
After several moments of picking apart the woman's appearance he realized she was headed straight for him at the bar. Vegeta gulped, spun in his stool back towards the bar and tried to look nonchalant, as if he hadn't just been ogling her. He felt her presence as she stepped up to the bar, mere inches from his left side.
"Two double shots of Patron, please!" She half-shouted over the music at the bartender. As she reached into her tiny purse and pulled out a wad of zenni, Vegeta could hear a chime which he assumed had to be her cell phone. She glanced at it, flipped it open and shouted into the receiver: "Chibi! Where are you sweetheart? I'm at the bar and I've already ordered us our first two shots of the night!"
Vegeta watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eyes and saw her pout slightly. "What do you mean you aren't here yet?" Pause. Frown. Laughter. "Goten, are you kidding me right now? Are you finally about to hook up with Trunks? Why didn't you just say so!"
Well that just blew Vegeta's mind. Goten? Trunks? She had to be talking about his son and his little minion – what were the odds of two other people in this town having those names? But what was that she said about hooking up?
"Well have fun, chibi. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. I guess I'll just have to find someone else to drink these shots with me."
She closed her phone and delicately picked up the shot glasses which were filled to the brim with clear alcohol. She turned half a step to her right, so that she was completely facing Vegeta. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. His thoughts were swimming…the smell of flowers was overwhelming him, and thoughts of his mother, and of his son and that stupid baka's brat, flashed through his mind in a confusing succession of images.
"My friend ditched me. Would you like to do a shot with me?"
It took him a moment, but he realized she was speaking to him. He turned and looked in her eyes. There was something so oddly familiar about her, like he knew her but just couldn't put his finger on where he had ever seen her before tonight. He smirked, that half-cocked smile that people thought made him look arrogant. She practically mimicked his smile, just bubbling with sexual energy.
"Don't mind if I do," he said, and knocked back the shot.