Author Note: My first Bulma x Vegeta fic for a while. This was inspired by a piece of fanart I found online. I'd post the link, but a) fanfiction . net is weird with web addresses and b) I totally forgot where I saw it! Sorry! Anyways, here is a ficlet about an encounter in Bulma and Vegeta's relationship. Enjoy!
Standing at the Window
~Bulma x Vegeta~
She was standing at the window, unaware of his presence.
He watched her, curiously.
The glimmer of stars in the clear sky cast a glow on her face, reflecting in her large blue eyes. Her sad blue eyes. Her elbow rested on the windowsill, her hand propping up her slightly pointed chin as she gazed upwards.
He admired her from the darkness of the doorway, noticing how white she seemed in the night glow, like a spirit, almost. A fornlorn ghost awaiting something. Or someone.
A sigh escaped her plump, pink lips. They glistened with gloss. Had she applied makeup for her stargazing?
Her blue-green hair was straight, sleek and shoulder length. Her long bangs were tucked behind her ears, threatening to escape and irritate her eyes. She hardly moved. He almost wondered if he was viewing a statue, but he could hear her soft breathing, see her chest rise and fall slightly. His eyes skimmed her figure. Still slim, but not as he remembered. Her derriere a little more rounded, her breasts larger and her waist less defined. She was still beautiful. She still set his heart racing with memories of their time together. He scowled at himself. He refused to acknowledge that he had missed her. He didn't want to be pleased at the sight of her searching the skies for a hint of his return. He didn't need her.
Time to go. He had already wasted enough time admiring her. As he turned to leave, there came a loud cry from the room next door. It was the piercing wail of a child.
There was a child?
Vegeta froze, at the sound, but Bulma, she awoke from her stargazing stupor and spun round to exit the room, only to stop at the sight of Vegeta's turned back.
"Vegeta?" She whimpered, disbelievingly.
He said nothing but exhaled heavily in annoyance. At least that was what he hoped it seemed like. He had been holding his breath the entire time he stared at the woman. He refused to turn around.
"Is that really you?"
He moved his head slightly so she could see his profile.
"Tend to your child, Woman."
He didn't need to turn around to see the change in her countenance. He could feel her blue eyes switch from sad longing to burning anger; he could hear her clench her fists. He willed her to make her move. He'd missed the conflict.
He also felt curiosity. Would she confirm the child as her own? Reveal what he longed to know. Was the child his, or had she betrayed his trust with another man?
Would it even be a betrayal? They had no formal arrangement, and, he reminded himself, she meant nothing to him. Despite this, he grew angry over the thought of some other man fathering a child with her.
"You ass! How dare you!" She growled, her voice shaking, "How dare you come back after abandoning me! I've heard nothing of you for nearly a year! Then you waltz in and demand I "tend" to my son?" She sniffled. He could tell without looking that her eyes were streaming with tears. He feared looking at her in case their glittering mesmerised him. He thought about what she had cried out to him. "How about you take care of your son?" She hissed, "Oh, wait. I forgot, you didn't even stick around long enough to know of his existence!" She cried, sarcasm heavy in her tone.
It was what he had waited for. The boy was his. Pride shot through him. He was a father. He'd sired an heir. He had a child, and it was with this stunning woman standing behind him. Not one for openly displaying his emotions, he simply allowed a smirk to tug at his lip.
"Tend to the child, Woman. Once he is silenced, you will come to me. I require your services tonight." Then he walked away, leaving her fuming and ranting behind him.
"I am not a prostitute! I'm not your slave, Vegeta!"
He headed back to his room, casting a glance over to the door of the room with the screaming child. His son.
She was right behind him though, stomping along the hallway, muttering to herself and wiping away her tears. He stopped himself from seeing the boy, no matter how powerful the urge was. His pride would not allow her to see his reaction to meeting his son for the first time.
"Where are you going?" She called after him. "Don't you want to meet him?" The hurt in her voice was palpable.
"No." Not now. He added to himself. "I have things I need to do now." He continued walking off to shower and eat, ignoring the nagging feeling of guilt at upsetting her. He tried to remind himself that he was a vicious, murdering conqueror who did not ever feel remorse, but lately it had become clearer that he could indeed care for another creature. He was not yet ready to admit it to himself though.
"Fine. " She hissed. "But don't you dare expect anything of me, Vegeta. It- it's over between us."
She entered the child's bedroom, without giving him the chance to respond. He was lucky, as she would have seen him turn in surprise, and seen the expression on his face change into one of anger and hurt.
He dictated the nature of their relationship – not her. He composed himself and followed her.
"State your meaning, Woman."
She ignored him, shushing the child in her arms whilst having her back turned against Vegeta.
He strode up to her, grabbed her shoulder and pulled her round to face him. She looked shocked at the sudden action, then irritated. It became anger when the child began to cry louder.
He looked down at the babe in her arms.
He was so small, with pudgy arms, legs and face. He was all scrunched up and red with the effort of screaming. He was loud and hardly ever gasped for breath. He would make a fine warrior, Vegeta thought amused, as such qualities were required for powering up. He forgot himself a moment and smirked. This seemed to quell the burst of anger from Bulma. He felt her shoulders relax under his grip, and she directed her attention back to shushing the baby. His screams abated and he began to breathe evenly. For a second his eyes opened before he shut them once again for sleep. Vegeta was taken aback by the bright blue of the child's eyes. Was this really his child? Saiyan traits would surely be stronger – the dark eyes, the dark hair. The boy seemed to have inherited none of Vegeta's Saiyan features. Though he did notice that the tiny nose bared a slight resemblance to his own. Those blue eyes were most definitely hers.
She rocked the child slightly and hummed a lullaby until she felt he was in a deep enough sleep, then she turned around and leaned over placing him into his cradle. Vegeta allowed this, his hand releasing its grip on her shoulder and falling to his side. He was thinking of his son, which distracted him from the issue at hand. Why he had given in and followed her into the child's room.
Her previous comment.
"What did you mean by 'over', Woman?" He asked, allowing irritation to come clearly through his voice. Bulma glared at him, and indicated to the child. Then, with a final check to ensure the baby was definitely sleeping, she grabbed Vegeta's arm and he allowed her to lead him out of the room, mesmerised by the feel of her skin on his. Once they were in the corridor she closed the door and sighed.
"I mean I'm not your woman anymore. I'm not going to have sex with you again. I'm not going to run about worrying about you. I'm going to… move on." She folded her arms in defiance and stared at him. He was sure she'd meant to look confident and powerful. He was also sure she'd been rehearsing this speech for some time. But he saw the fear in her eyes. The sadness. The longing. He noticed how she paused before she said 'move on'.
"Is that so…" He said, emotionlessly. Not even a question. He was too busy trying to get angry at her. He didn't need her. She stood her ground. "Well. It means nothing to me." Vegeta declared. He couldn't show weakness. He would not allow her to see that she had somehow wounded him. He didn't even understand how it affected him in such a way. She was only a woman. She was weak and a distraction. This was a benefit! Pride would not allow her to win this.
"It means nothing to me." He repeated, "I can easily find another human whore. You were a distraction to my training anyway." He growled and stormed away. He heard her gasp at his comments. He heard her crumple to the floor behind him, and he heard the crying as he left the building. For years he had ignored his conscience, but for some reason some sort of regret was stabbing at him. Much like when he left to go train, when he tried to escape the suffocation that was having a relationship with Bulma Briefs. Living with her, fighting with her, sleeping with her. Caring for her.
No. He didn't care for her. He needed to keep reminding himself and filling his mind with thoughts of Kakarot as a Super Saiyan instead. His anger at himself over her was soon eclipsed by his anger at himself over failing to be the best of the Saiyan race. He had to attain ascension! He decided to focus on that with all of his might. Forget about the tear-stained cheeks of the blue-haired Goddess, no doubt standing at the window once more, looking up at the stars right now, as he took off in his space pod.
At least part of him hoped she still did.
AN: Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave a comment or review. I appreciate any and all feedback.
Also, I'd just like to say that this is in fact the 30th fanfic I have uploaded to fanfiction . net. A personal milestone. Hope I can continue to post more fics in the future!