Disclaimer: Holy Shit. I really need a huge disclaimer for this. I have the
script for Fight Club open on my computer and I keep alternating between
that and my Word Document. I do not own Fight Club, it was written by Jim
Uhls. Many of the conversations are direct copies of those held in fight
Club. By no means do I think of them as my own brainchild. I don't own the
characters either; those belong to Akira Toriyama. Damn, I'm such a
freeloader.
Anyway, this is a B/V and G/CC. And for those of you who've seen fight club, this has a different story line pertaining to the characters.
Fight Club
Chapter 1: Insomnia.
Chi-chi couldn't sleep. She lay on her bed, watching the ceiling fan spin, round and round. A fly buzzed somewhere, but Chi-Chi didn't care. She hadn't slept in god only knew how long.
With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy. Things seem far away, like you're detached from the world, only watching.
She made up her mind to go to the doctor the next day.
---------------At the doctor's office---------------
The doctor looked at her with poorly veiled amusement.
"No, you can't die from insomnia." She said, consulting her folder once again.
"Well, what about narcolepsy? I doze off and find myself in strange places." Chi-chi pleaded. She wasn't giving up. This was her last hope.
"No, not from narcolepsy either." The doctor said, getting to her feet.
"Look, doc, you need to help me! I haven't slept for weeks! I need something! Anything!" Chi-chi pleaded, standing up as well.
"You need to lighten up," the doctor said, shaking her head with a little annoyance. "Listen: what you really need is some good, natural sleep. Chew some valerian root and get some exercise." She began to walk away.
"Doctor, look at my face! I'm in pain here!" Chi-chi pleaded.
"Pain? You wanna know what pain is? Swing by the First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the men with testicular cancer. That's pain." And with that, she walked away.
"But I'm a." Chi-chi's response fell into the silence. "Woman."
---------------First Methodist---------------
At seven fifteen, Chi-chi left her house and drove to First Methodist. She was a little nervous, seeing as how she was a woman and thus impossible for her to have testicular cancer.
But her curiosity had been peeked. She had to see what her (lady) doctor had been talking about.
As she drove, she worked out story. She'd tell them (if the subject ever came up) that her brother had died of testicular cancer and had requested that her family find some people with the same cancer and support them
Chi-chi walked in to find a group of men still gathering. She'd made it there early. The men stared at her.
"Can I help you?" Chi-chi turned to the voice. A middle-aged man regarded her with kind eyes and a small, sad smile. His nametag read, 'Hello, my name is Ronald.'
"Yes," she said quietly, taking a step towards Ronald. Time to unleash her story. "Would you mind if I sat in on today's session? My," she sniffed a little. "You see, my brother died of testicular cancer and *sniff* his last request was that his family try and support all the men who were taken to his same fate." She let the tears trickle a little. Ronald smiled at her.
"Of course. Go no further." he paused. "Uh, what was your name?"
"Cornelia." She said. Ronald smiled and walked off, promising to make her a nametag. Play it safe, she told herself.
Later, as Chi-chi sat listening to Thomas speak of his life, she understood what her doctor had meant.
"I-I wanted three kids. Two boys and a girl. My wife, Molly, she wanted two girls and a boy. We could never agree," Thomas said with a sad smile. A couple men laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
"Well, last month, Molly gave birth to a baby girl," he paused, took a deep breath. "With her new husband." He paused again. "And thank God! I'm so glad for her because she deserves." Thomas looked down, holding back a sob and unable to continue. Ronald got up and put his hands on Thomas's shoulder.
"Let's all thank Thomas for sharing himself with us." Ronald said gently. Chi-chi obliged, as did everyone else.
"Thank you, Thomas," she murmured. What a cruel fate to have to come to terms with!
"Now, it's time for the one-on-ones. Everyone, find a partner. I want everyone to really open up like Thomas did here." Ronald then led Thomas off to recompose himself.
Chi-chi remained sitting, figuring she would be the odd man out. Not that she minded. She would have been a little uncomfortable sharing with someone.
And then she saw Bob. He was a moose of a man, roughly 45 years old with short brown hair, and he had tits. Bitch tits.
"Come on, sweetie. You need a partner too." He said, opening his arms. Chi- chi stood up and Bob enveloped her in a bear hug. Chi-chi found her head between to large, sweaty tits. She patted his back, unsure what to do.
It turned out that Bob was a body builder who used to do a late night infomercial on expanding your chest.
"I took steroids. I was a juicer. Normal stuff at first, but then Wisterol. It was for race horses, for chrissakes!" He sniffed. "Now I'm bankrupt, divorced, and my two grown kids won't even return my phone calls!" He cried some more and then took a step back. He held Chi-chi at arm length and smiled sadly at her.
"Now your turn to cry, little lady." He said, bringing her back into a bone- crushing hug.
At first, Chi-chi was speechless. But, something happened. She became lost in oblivion, dark, silent, and complete. And she started crying. She tightened her grip around Bob, sobbing uncontrollably. Bob put his cheek on the top of Chi-chi's head and closed his eyes, whispering sweet nothings like, "that's right, keep crying" and "Let it all out."
She had found freedom. She lost all hope and thus, there was freedom.
Babies didn't sleep as well as Chi-chi did.
---------------Later---------------
After that, Chichi was addicted. She took flyers and checked newspapers, looking for support groups. She didn't ever go back to testicular cancer, but she had a melanoma meeting every Monday, a cancer meeting on Tuesday, blood parasites on Wednesday, organic brain dementia of Thursdays, and tuberculosis on Fridays, and ascending bowel cancer on Sundays. There was also bimonthly sickle cell meeting.
And for a year, things were great. She slept well, her work was better then ever and she knew a promotion was on the way and she was hardly ever in a bad mood.
And then he showed up. Vegeta Ouji. It was like he knew her schedule. Every support group she went to, she saw him there. He sat there in his black outfit, smoking away. No matter how hard she glared, he never seemed to get the message.
He was a faker, only there for entertainment. He didn't have any of the sicknesses that he took support groups for. He was a liar, and his lie reflected Chi-chi's lie. She couldn't cry anymore. And because she couldn't cry, she couldn't sleep.
In her head, she practiced telling him off. She'd grab him by the arms when it was time for one-on-one, shake him, and start yelling at him.
"Vegeta, you liar, you big tourist, I need this! Get out!" Then Chi-chi would be able to cry again. She'd cry, thus regaining her ability to sleep, and things would be better. She'd buy more items for her condo.
When Chi-chi got promoted, she didn't know whether to be elated or crushed.
"Congratulations, Chi-chi. The board reviewed your resume and you've been promoted to recall coordinator. That means you'll get to use the 'formula!' " He spoke about it like it was some kind of honor. For now, Chi-chi opted to be happy.
"Thank you, sir, you really don't know how happy this makes me!" she said, smiling.
"I have more good news for you, Chi-chi. I only hope that you didn't make any major plans for the next couple weeks." He said.
"Wait, why?" She questioned, a sense of dread entering her body.
"Because we had an influx of accidents with a certain model and we need you to take a look at it right away." He handed her a folder stuffed with paper along with a packet of airline coupons. "You leave tomorrow morning. Call me if you need something." He smiled and walked away.
---------------On the airplane---------------
Chi-chi dazed off, eyes not focused on anything. For weeks she had been in a bad dream of planes and cars that had been utterly destroyed by some accident or another.
The car needed to be recalled: it was as simple as that. Sadly, her boss hadn't let her return until she had checked every car on her fucking list. He said that recalls were bad for the company and maybe, just maybe, she'd find a car that, when the formula was applied, didn't mean a recall.
And she didn't sleep. She stayed up all night, staring at this or that. She grabbed sleep when she could on the plane, but even that was getting harder. With her insomnia, she was neither awake nor asleep. She floated through the day, doing actions that were so monotonous that she no longer had to tell her body what to do. It went through the motions on its own.
Chi-chi was sick of the single-serving life she had been forced into. Every goddamn fucking thing in her life right now was a single serving. The food. The creamers and coffee. The mints on her pillow. Fuck it, even her friends were single serving. She'd talk to them from one place to another, but that was it. That was their only time together.
But now, finally, she was going home. Well, for who knows how long until the next time she had to go away. She decided that if she resolved things with Vegeta, she'd be able to sleep. Then things would get better. She'd see.
---------------That night, Cancer meeting---------------
That Tuesday night was the last straw. The leader told them that Chloe wanted to speak with them. Chloe, a pale, skinny woman with a bandanna on, stood up and walked up to the podium.
"Well, I'm still here," she began with a weak laugh. "I don't know how long I can say that. That's about all I can say concerning how much longer I'll be alive. But I've got some good news: I no longer fear death." She smiled when there was applause from the tiny audience.
"But I'm in a pretty lonely position. No one will have sex with me. I'm so close to the end and all I want is to get laid." The leader began edging closer, at a loss for what to do. "I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants--" At this point, the leader had edged Chloe out, cutting her off in the process.
"Thank you Chloe. Everyone, let's thank Chloe." Chloe walked back to her seat. "Now," the leader said. "Time for meditation." Everyone shut his or her eyes. "You're at your cave. You step inside your cave and you keep walking. You find your power animal."
The first time Chi-chi had visited her cave, which was literally a cave of ice, a penguin had greeted her. "Slide." The penguin had said, and indeed, it slid forward on its stomach. This time, though, Vegeta greeted her. He reclined on a seat of ice. He took a long draft of his cigarette and looked towards Chi-chi. "Slide." He said mockingly.
Chi-chi's eyes flew open. She whipped her head around and stared at Vegeta, whose eyes were shut. He still took long puffs of his cigarette.
Finally, it was time for the one-on-ones. "Choose someone special to you tonight." The leader said. Chi-chi milled through the people and saw Vegeta by the coffee table. Chloe was approaching him with a desperate look in his eyes.
I don't think so! Chi-chi mentally shouted. She sped up and got to him just before Chloe. She grabbed his arm and hissed into his ear.
"We need to talk." He turned around and regarded her with dark black eyes. For a moment, Chi-chi was shocked into silence from the depth Vegeta's eyes held. Vegeta advanced and Chi-chi took two faltering steps back before Vegeta enveloped her in a hug. Chi-chi relaxed and put her head on his shoulder.
"I'm on to you, you faker. You aren't dying," she began.
"What?"
"Okay, in the Tibetan philosophy, yeah, you're dying, everybody's dying, but you're not dying like Chloe over there is dying. I've seen you. You're at melanoma, tuberculosis, brain dementia-." Vegeta cut her off.
"I saw you practice this." He murmured.
"Practicing what?" Chi-chi asked, confused. Vegeta pulled out of the hug.
"Telling me off. Is it going as well as you'd hoped.? Miss Taylor?" He said with a mean little smirk.
Chi-chi was pissed. "I'll expose you."
"Go ahead. I'll expose you."
"Why are you doing this?" Chi-chi asked desperately.
"It's cheaper then a movie and there's free coffee." He shrugged.
"These are my groups! I was here before you! I've been going to them for a year!" Chi-chi said, trying to make him see reason.
"Why do you do it?"
Chi-chi was silent for a moment. Then she spoke up. "I dunno. I-I guess when people think you're dying, I mean really dying, they listen, instead-- "
"Instead of waiting for their turn to speak." Vegeta finished for her. They shared a brief moment of recognition. Then the leader broke it. She walked by and said, "Quietly now. Share with each other."
"It becomes an addiction," Chi-chi warned.
"Really?"
Chi-chi sighed. "Look, I can't cry with another faker around."
"Not my problem."
"Please, can't we work something out?" Chi-chi begged. Vegeta walked out of the church. Chi-chi ran after him. She caught up. "Look, we can split up the week. I can even suggest that you go to testicular cancer."
"Well you have more of a right to be there then me." He said, walking into a laundromat. He went over to a wall lined with tiny lockers.
"What?" She said.
"I still have my balls. You don't have any." He flashed her a carnal smile and hit the locker. It swung open and Vegeta grabbed three watches, four bracelets, tuxedo cuffs, a necklace, earrings, and a keychain. All looked to Chi-chi like they were fakes. She rolled her eyes.
"You're joking, right?"
"I dunno. Am I?"
"Okay, you can have melanoma, tuberculosis-" She followed him as he walked, but he cut her off.
"Nah, you take tuberculosis. My smoking doesn't go over at all."
"Fine. Great. You take organic brain dementia, blood parasites, and melanoma." She said. He walked into a pawn shop three shops over and walked up to the counter, setting his goods on the table.
"Wait, you're selling these?"Chi-chi said, confused. Vegeta dug his foot into Chi-chi's foot.
"Yes," he growled. "I'm selling some things." Chi-chi let no expression of pain grace her face. He took the money and walked out. Chi-chi was entranced. This man was such a mystery.
He stopped outside and turned to face Chi-chi.
"I guess that means we'll see each other at the sickle cell meeting." He said.
"Fine. That's all right. I don't mind seeing you there." Chi-chi said, happy to finish the bartering up.
"I guess that means this is goodbye." He shot her a fake sad face.
Chi-chi rolled her eyes and gave him the finger. She was oddly said to leave the company of such an interesting man but she knew making a big deal about it was futile.
"Wait!" He called out, sounding a little peeved. She turned around and watched him approach, hands in his pockets.
"What?"
"Maybe we should exchange phone numbers." He said gruffly.
"Should we now?" Chi-chi asked. Her heart raced.
"Yeah. You know, in case we wanna switch nights." They stared in each other's eyes for a couple of seconds.
"Alright." Chi-chi grabbed a pen and a business card out of her pocket and scribbled a number on it. She handed it to him. He snatched it, grabbed the pen, and started writing on her hand. Chi-chi rolled her eyes. She walked away.
"Miss Taylor!" He called mockingly. She turned around.
"It doesn't have a name. What's your real name? Any of those that you give during sessions?"
"It's Chi-chi!" And she walked away for good.
Later that night, when Chi-chi got home, she transferred his number to a more durable piece of paper. She pushed play on her new age message machine.
"Hey, Chi-chi, It's Bill Edwards," Oh no! Chi-chi thought. A message from your boss is never a good thing. "You have one day to write up your reports. I want them on my desk on Thursday morning. You'd better have them in, because Thursday afternoon, you leave again. There are a few new accidents you need to take a look at. Sorry we're working you so hard, Chi- chi. I know you're up to the challenge though. Show those bastards on the board what you're made of!" Chi-chi fell onto her couch. Hell was ahead of her.
A/N: Well, that's chapter one. In the last week, this is the second new fan fiction I've started. I really like this one. Read and review plz!
Anyway, this is a B/V and G/CC. And for those of you who've seen fight club, this has a different story line pertaining to the characters.
Fight Club
Chapter 1: Insomnia.
Chi-chi couldn't sleep. She lay on her bed, watching the ceiling fan spin, round and round. A fly buzzed somewhere, but Chi-Chi didn't care. She hadn't slept in god only knew how long.
With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy. Things seem far away, like you're detached from the world, only watching.
She made up her mind to go to the doctor the next day.
---------------At the doctor's office---------------
The doctor looked at her with poorly veiled amusement.
"No, you can't die from insomnia." She said, consulting her folder once again.
"Well, what about narcolepsy? I doze off and find myself in strange places." Chi-chi pleaded. She wasn't giving up. This was her last hope.
"No, not from narcolepsy either." The doctor said, getting to her feet.
"Look, doc, you need to help me! I haven't slept for weeks! I need something! Anything!" Chi-chi pleaded, standing up as well.
"You need to lighten up," the doctor said, shaking her head with a little annoyance. "Listen: what you really need is some good, natural sleep. Chew some valerian root and get some exercise." She began to walk away.
"Doctor, look at my face! I'm in pain here!" Chi-chi pleaded.
"Pain? You wanna know what pain is? Swing by the First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the men with testicular cancer. That's pain." And with that, she walked away.
"But I'm a." Chi-chi's response fell into the silence. "Woman."
---------------First Methodist---------------
At seven fifteen, Chi-chi left her house and drove to First Methodist. She was a little nervous, seeing as how she was a woman and thus impossible for her to have testicular cancer.
But her curiosity had been peeked. She had to see what her (lady) doctor had been talking about.
As she drove, she worked out story. She'd tell them (if the subject ever came up) that her brother had died of testicular cancer and had requested that her family find some people with the same cancer and support them
Chi-chi walked in to find a group of men still gathering. She'd made it there early. The men stared at her.
"Can I help you?" Chi-chi turned to the voice. A middle-aged man regarded her with kind eyes and a small, sad smile. His nametag read, 'Hello, my name is Ronald.'
"Yes," she said quietly, taking a step towards Ronald. Time to unleash her story. "Would you mind if I sat in on today's session? My," she sniffed a little. "You see, my brother died of testicular cancer and *sniff* his last request was that his family try and support all the men who were taken to his same fate." She let the tears trickle a little. Ronald smiled at her.
"Of course. Go no further." he paused. "Uh, what was your name?"
"Cornelia." She said. Ronald smiled and walked off, promising to make her a nametag. Play it safe, she told herself.
Later, as Chi-chi sat listening to Thomas speak of his life, she understood what her doctor had meant.
"I-I wanted three kids. Two boys and a girl. My wife, Molly, she wanted two girls and a boy. We could never agree," Thomas said with a sad smile. A couple men laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
"Well, last month, Molly gave birth to a baby girl," he paused, took a deep breath. "With her new husband." He paused again. "And thank God! I'm so glad for her because she deserves." Thomas looked down, holding back a sob and unable to continue. Ronald got up and put his hands on Thomas's shoulder.
"Let's all thank Thomas for sharing himself with us." Ronald said gently. Chi-chi obliged, as did everyone else.
"Thank you, Thomas," she murmured. What a cruel fate to have to come to terms with!
"Now, it's time for the one-on-ones. Everyone, find a partner. I want everyone to really open up like Thomas did here." Ronald then led Thomas off to recompose himself.
Chi-chi remained sitting, figuring she would be the odd man out. Not that she minded. She would have been a little uncomfortable sharing with someone.
And then she saw Bob. He was a moose of a man, roughly 45 years old with short brown hair, and he had tits. Bitch tits.
"Come on, sweetie. You need a partner too." He said, opening his arms. Chi- chi stood up and Bob enveloped her in a bear hug. Chi-chi found her head between to large, sweaty tits. She patted his back, unsure what to do.
It turned out that Bob was a body builder who used to do a late night infomercial on expanding your chest.
"I took steroids. I was a juicer. Normal stuff at first, but then Wisterol. It was for race horses, for chrissakes!" He sniffed. "Now I'm bankrupt, divorced, and my two grown kids won't even return my phone calls!" He cried some more and then took a step back. He held Chi-chi at arm length and smiled sadly at her.
"Now your turn to cry, little lady." He said, bringing her back into a bone- crushing hug.
At first, Chi-chi was speechless. But, something happened. She became lost in oblivion, dark, silent, and complete. And she started crying. She tightened her grip around Bob, sobbing uncontrollably. Bob put his cheek on the top of Chi-chi's head and closed his eyes, whispering sweet nothings like, "that's right, keep crying" and "Let it all out."
She had found freedom. She lost all hope and thus, there was freedom.
Babies didn't sleep as well as Chi-chi did.
---------------Later---------------
After that, Chichi was addicted. She took flyers and checked newspapers, looking for support groups. She didn't ever go back to testicular cancer, but she had a melanoma meeting every Monday, a cancer meeting on Tuesday, blood parasites on Wednesday, organic brain dementia of Thursdays, and tuberculosis on Fridays, and ascending bowel cancer on Sundays. There was also bimonthly sickle cell meeting.
And for a year, things were great. She slept well, her work was better then ever and she knew a promotion was on the way and she was hardly ever in a bad mood.
And then he showed up. Vegeta Ouji. It was like he knew her schedule. Every support group she went to, she saw him there. He sat there in his black outfit, smoking away. No matter how hard she glared, he never seemed to get the message.
He was a faker, only there for entertainment. He didn't have any of the sicknesses that he took support groups for. He was a liar, and his lie reflected Chi-chi's lie. She couldn't cry anymore. And because she couldn't cry, she couldn't sleep.
In her head, she practiced telling him off. She'd grab him by the arms when it was time for one-on-one, shake him, and start yelling at him.
"Vegeta, you liar, you big tourist, I need this! Get out!" Then Chi-chi would be able to cry again. She'd cry, thus regaining her ability to sleep, and things would be better. She'd buy more items for her condo.
When Chi-chi got promoted, she didn't know whether to be elated or crushed.
"Congratulations, Chi-chi. The board reviewed your resume and you've been promoted to recall coordinator. That means you'll get to use the 'formula!' " He spoke about it like it was some kind of honor. For now, Chi-chi opted to be happy.
"Thank you, sir, you really don't know how happy this makes me!" she said, smiling.
"I have more good news for you, Chi-chi. I only hope that you didn't make any major plans for the next couple weeks." He said.
"Wait, why?" She questioned, a sense of dread entering her body.
"Because we had an influx of accidents with a certain model and we need you to take a look at it right away." He handed her a folder stuffed with paper along with a packet of airline coupons. "You leave tomorrow morning. Call me if you need something." He smiled and walked away.
---------------On the airplane---------------
Chi-chi dazed off, eyes not focused on anything. For weeks she had been in a bad dream of planes and cars that had been utterly destroyed by some accident or another.
The car needed to be recalled: it was as simple as that. Sadly, her boss hadn't let her return until she had checked every car on her fucking list. He said that recalls were bad for the company and maybe, just maybe, she'd find a car that, when the formula was applied, didn't mean a recall.
And she didn't sleep. She stayed up all night, staring at this or that. She grabbed sleep when she could on the plane, but even that was getting harder. With her insomnia, she was neither awake nor asleep. She floated through the day, doing actions that were so monotonous that she no longer had to tell her body what to do. It went through the motions on its own.
Chi-chi was sick of the single-serving life she had been forced into. Every goddamn fucking thing in her life right now was a single serving. The food. The creamers and coffee. The mints on her pillow. Fuck it, even her friends were single serving. She'd talk to them from one place to another, but that was it. That was their only time together.
But now, finally, she was going home. Well, for who knows how long until the next time she had to go away. She decided that if she resolved things with Vegeta, she'd be able to sleep. Then things would get better. She'd see.
---------------That night, Cancer meeting---------------
That Tuesday night was the last straw. The leader told them that Chloe wanted to speak with them. Chloe, a pale, skinny woman with a bandanna on, stood up and walked up to the podium.
"Well, I'm still here," she began with a weak laugh. "I don't know how long I can say that. That's about all I can say concerning how much longer I'll be alive. But I've got some good news: I no longer fear death." She smiled when there was applause from the tiny audience.
"But I'm in a pretty lonely position. No one will have sex with me. I'm so close to the end and all I want is to get laid." The leader began edging closer, at a loss for what to do. "I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants--" At this point, the leader had edged Chloe out, cutting her off in the process.
"Thank you Chloe. Everyone, let's thank Chloe." Chloe walked back to her seat. "Now," the leader said. "Time for meditation." Everyone shut his or her eyes. "You're at your cave. You step inside your cave and you keep walking. You find your power animal."
The first time Chi-chi had visited her cave, which was literally a cave of ice, a penguin had greeted her. "Slide." The penguin had said, and indeed, it slid forward on its stomach. This time, though, Vegeta greeted her. He reclined on a seat of ice. He took a long draft of his cigarette and looked towards Chi-chi. "Slide." He said mockingly.
Chi-chi's eyes flew open. She whipped her head around and stared at Vegeta, whose eyes were shut. He still took long puffs of his cigarette.
Finally, it was time for the one-on-ones. "Choose someone special to you tonight." The leader said. Chi-chi milled through the people and saw Vegeta by the coffee table. Chloe was approaching him with a desperate look in his eyes.
I don't think so! Chi-chi mentally shouted. She sped up and got to him just before Chloe. She grabbed his arm and hissed into his ear.
"We need to talk." He turned around and regarded her with dark black eyes. For a moment, Chi-chi was shocked into silence from the depth Vegeta's eyes held. Vegeta advanced and Chi-chi took two faltering steps back before Vegeta enveloped her in a hug. Chi-chi relaxed and put her head on his shoulder.
"I'm on to you, you faker. You aren't dying," she began.
"What?"
"Okay, in the Tibetan philosophy, yeah, you're dying, everybody's dying, but you're not dying like Chloe over there is dying. I've seen you. You're at melanoma, tuberculosis, brain dementia-." Vegeta cut her off.
"I saw you practice this." He murmured.
"Practicing what?" Chi-chi asked, confused. Vegeta pulled out of the hug.
"Telling me off. Is it going as well as you'd hoped.? Miss Taylor?" He said with a mean little smirk.
Chi-chi was pissed. "I'll expose you."
"Go ahead. I'll expose you."
"Why are you doing this?" Chi-chi asked desperately.
"It's cheaper then a movie and there's free coffee." He shrugged.
"These are my groups! I was here before you! I've been going to them for a year!" Chi-chi said, trying to make him see reason.
"Why do you do it?"
Chi-chi was silent for a moment. Then she spoke up. "I dunno. I-I guess when people think you're dying, I mean really dying, they listen, instead-- "
"Instead of waiting for their turn to speak." Vegeta finished for her. They shared a brief moment of recognition. Then the leader broke it. She walked by and said, "Quietly now. Share with each other."
"It becomes an addiction," Chi-chi warned.
"Really?"
Chi-chi sighed. "Look, I can't cry with another faker around."
"Not my problem."
"Please, can't we work something out?" Chi-chi begged. Vegeta walked out of the church. Chi-chi ran after him. She caught up. "Look, we can split up the week. I can even suggest that you go to testicular cancer."
"Well you have more of a right to be there then me." He said, walking into a laundromat. He went over to a wall lined with tiny lockers.
"What?" She said.
"I still have my balls. You don't have any." He flashed her a carnal smile and hit the locker. It swung open and Vegeta grabbed three watches, four bracelets, tuxedo cuffs, a necklace, earrings, and a keychain. All looked to Chi-chi like they were fakes. She rolled her eyes.
"You're joking, right?"
"I dunno. Am I?"
"Okay, you can have melanoma, tuberculosis-" She followed him as he walked, but he cut her off.
"Nah, you take tuberculosis. My smoking doesn't go over at all."
"Fine. Great. You take organic brain dementia, blood parasites, and melanoma." She said. He walked into a pawn shop three shops over and walked up to the counter, setting his goods on the table.
"Wait, you're selling these?"Chi-chi said, confused. Vegeta dug his foot into Chi-chi's foot.
"Yes," he growled. "I'm selling some things." Chi-chi let no expression of pain grace her face. He took the money and walked out. Chi-chi was entranced. This man was such a mystery.
He stopped outside and turned to face Chi-chi.
"I guess that means we'll see each other at the sickle cell meeting." He said.
"Fine. That's all right. I don't mind seeing you there." Chi-chi said, happy to finish the bartering up.
"I guess that means this is goodbye." He shot her a fake sad face.
Chi-chi rolled her eyes and gave him the finger. She was oddly said to leave the company of such an interesting man but she knew making a big deal about it was futile.
"Wait!" He called out, sounding a little peeved. She turned around and watched him approach, hands in his pockets.
"What?"
"Maybe we should exchange phone numbers." He said gruffly.
"Should we now?" Chi-chi asked. Her heart raced.
"Yeah. You know, in case we wanna switch nights." They stared in each other's eyes for a couple of seconds.
"Alright." Chi-chi grabbed a pen and a business card out of her pocket and scribbled a number on it. She handed it to him. He snatched it, grabbed the pen, and started writing on her hand. Chi-chi rolled her eyes. She walked away.
"Miss Taylor!" He called mockingly. She turned around.
"It doesn't have a name. What's your real name? Any of those that you give during sessions?"
"It's Chi-chi!" And she walked away for good.
Later that night, when Chi-chi got home, she transferred his number to a more durable piece of paper. She pushed play on her new age message machine.
"Hey, Chi-chi, It's Bill Edwards," Oh no! Chi-chi thought. A message from your boss is never a good thing. "You have one day to write up your reports. I want them on my desk on Thursday morning. You'd better have them in, because Thursday afternoon, you leave again. There are a few new accidents you need to take a look at. Sorry we're working you so hard, Chi- chi. I know you're up to the challenge though. Show those bastards on the board what you're made of!" Chi-chi fell onto her couch. Hell was ahead of her.
A/N: Well, that's chapter one. In the last week, this is the second new fan fiction I've started. I really like this one. Read and review plz!