A Courtships of Challenges

By CoffeeAndCojunctions

Prologue

Rolling out of bed she stretches her arms towards the high ceiling of her bedroom and makes her way to the french doors leading to her balcony. The sun wasn't quite up yet, the light just beginning to crest over the high walls of the compound. She was an early riser now, it had never come naturally to her but rather it was cultivated. Everyday there was still that struggle between determination and the warm fuzzy haze of sleep that beckoned her to closer her eyes and doze for just a while longer. Still there was too much to do and such precious few hours to do it in. It was the news of the androids immanent arrival and with them the foreboding sense of destruction that had her rising so early-tackling each day with as much ferocity as she could. Life before had felt so stagnant and smothering, or maybe it was that sense of urgency that had given her this new perspective.

Opening the doors to let in the chill breeze of the early morning, a hint of warm already beginning to manifest in the air, she gathered her hair in a high ponytail and stifled a yawn. Dressing in a pair of light, cotton yoga pants and a form fitting shirt, more for practicality then for aesthetics, Bulma grabs the another hair elastic, holding it between her teeth as she exists the room-fingers busy braiding her newly straight locks into a plait. Her perm was gone, the humidity of the summer making it a total nightmare to maintain, her new style was more practical, easily maintained. Swallowing down a quick breakfast of toast and orange juice she grabs the purple yoga mat propped up against the sliding doors leading out to the courtyard from the kitchen and makes her way barefoot across the grass, fresh dew drops cling to her skin but she doesn't mind.

Setting up her mat she faces East to greet the sun in a salutation, everything is quiet this early in the morning, the normally bustling compound still slumbering. The only sound the quiet hum of the gravity machine-she was convince that the damn Saiyan never slept-Vegeta always rose earlier and was awake later then she could really keep track of. Raising her arms in an arch her palms meet before resting in front of her chest, breath coming out in long exhales. The forms come easy to her after so many years, in the beginning she is only stretching her limbs, warming them up gently for the more strenuous poses to come. Yoga required finesse and control, though she wasn't an overly muscular woman she was deceptively lithe. There was strength in her limbs, perhaps not enough to help save the earth but certainly enough to fend for herself against a human foe. She's twisted in a particularly challenging pose, her core burning from the strain of supporting her upraised legs and the slow decent she had set them on when the gruff voice of her house guest startles her out of meditative haze. Managing to catch herself before she ended up in a heap of limbs she glares up at the dark haired source of the voice, eyes brimming with irritation.

"What-" it's not so much a question as it is a command for explanation, he was always an irritable little dwarf when she had to interrupt his precious training, she figured it was her turn to extend the courtesy. She can see the twitch of his left eye, signaling his displeasure, she was on the receiving end of it often enough that she could recognize his irritation quite readily.

Muscular arms cross over an equally well defined chest, he tilts his head so that he's looking down at her from the tip of his pointed nose. "Your breathing is off-" he enunciates as if he is speaking to a child. Each carefully pronounced word send blood rushing to her ears and makes her teeth clench a little harder. He must notice because his lips quirk up the corners for a moment before he resumes in his usual brisk manner "your exhalations are poorly timed, it's why you can not complete the form." With those words he turns without waiting for a response and walks into the kitchen, from the window she can see him rummaging the fridge. Clucking her tongue against her teeth in a show of annoyance she gets back on all fours to begin the pose again. Twice more she fails before she decides to head his words, elongating her exhales by just a few seconds does make the pose easier to control, when her body is one long line and her straining shoulders begin to quiver she catches a glimpse of him re-entering the gravity room, a barely there nod of approval sent her way.

Finishing her session with a few more stretches to cool down her strained muscles Bulma just lays down on her mat and lets the weak warmth of the newly risen sun wash over her face, lashes fluttering against her cheek to block out the light-body still but mind awakening, forming the days agenda. New proposals for Caspsule Corp patent revisions needed to be attended to, her role as Vice President was become more and more demanding as her father began to switch his work load to her to slowly transition her into the role of President. Training bots needed to be repaired and the Gravity Room really needed a tune up if Vegeta was going to make it his sole mission in life to run it to the ground or make it explode-again.

A lurching sound startles her, the sound of metal groaning before everything goes quiet makes her heart catch in her throat. The slow decent of the Gravity Machine door eases the tension in her shoulder when the short man exist unharmed. Last time he had blown the machine to kingdom come she didn't think he would pull through. Relief gives way to the usual mixture of fear and irritation that clouded her interaction with Vegeta when he heads in her direction, a familiar look on his face. A hand on her hip she lifts the other to pinch the bridge of her nose.

Here it comes.

"Woman, your blasted machine is malfunctioning again. How useless can you be where you can't keep one machined functioning correctly." standing before her with his arms crossed and a near petulant look on his face Vegeta is the picture of regal impatience. Rolling up her mat the heiress pointedly ignores the flame haired man, sidestepping him when she's collected her belongings.

"Woman! Are you deaf?"

Rounding on the Saiyan like a feline with it's hackles raised she steps up to him, their height difference nearly non existent when she was this close, close enough to see the faint scar that peeked out from under his chin. "No Vegeta, I can hear your bitching loud and clear, it's just too early to deal with your high and mighty shit." Her teeth are nearly grinding against each other.

How dare this inbred muscle head think he can get away with insulting her like this, six months of his near constant demands of more and better and faster had finally dulled away the terror his presence used to carry. It wasn't that she didn't think he wouldn't kill her, she wasn't under the delusion that she was of any importance to him, she had seen Vegeta in action and the man was terrifying. Cohabitation with him though had shown her while he wasn't afraid to bite he was often a lot of bark. Especially considering he depended on her to keep up the suicidal training regiment he had.

Poking his spandex covered chest with a well manicured finger she stand a bit on her toes to bridge the gap between their eye levels. "I am not some servant for you to order around, now I am going to go into the house and brew a cup of coffee then if-and this a monumentally large if-you can be civil until I finish my first cup I will make some time to fix the machine today. If you can't do that then you are shit out of luck for the rest of the week."

Dark eyes narrowing he comes close enough to her face that she can feel his breath fanning against her lips, "Are you fucking insane Woman? I could kill you with a flick of my wrist and not even have to worry about your insides smudging my boots-" There were times when he was tempted to pluck her tongue right out of her mouth and do this back water planet the favor of silencing her foul mouth. Then again she was the only stimulating conversation this hunk of space rock had to offer. That buffoon Kakarott probably couldn't even spell conversationalist.

"Oh Bulma honey, you are up so early dear-and Mister Vegeta taking a break so soon, oh my I will have breakfast ready in a jiffy!" Poking her head out of the sliding doors Bunny Briefs smiles brightly at the two figures on the grass, blinking at how close then had gotten Bulma takes a step away from the muscular man and turns to her mother. "Bulma dear won't you go grab your father from the lab he never made it to bed last night. I swear that man, so hard working."

"Sure Mom," at this point she's addressing her mother's back, the blonde woman already encasing herself in an apron to begin cooking a Saiyan sized breakfast. Sighing she runs a hand along her brow, sweat cling to her hand and gets dragged into her hair. Ew, she really needed to shower. "Look Vegeta, I have more things on my plate then just you but we've been going about this the wrong way. I can't build a Vegeta proof Gravity Machine without having an idea of what you can actually withstand."

Lips pulled back in more of snarl then a grin he gives a gruff chuckle at her words, "Woman I can handle anything you could throw at me. I am the Prince of all Saiyans." The smell of cooking meats is wafting through the air and his monstrous appetite begins to stir.

"Right, listen just come to the lab after your gorge yourself-okay?" shaking her head at his over confidence ideas form in her mind about how to make the Saiyan eat his words, she couldn't bringing to his knees with her fists but her mind was as powerful as any Ki blast. Walking away she can't help but through a challenge over her shoulders, lips twisted in coy smile "And Vegeta, I promise you, I will give you something that will bring you to your knees."