Yamcha and Bulma's Break Up
Bulma stared at the computer screen, her fingers drumming against her forearm. She sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes. It seemed that tonight her mind would not function with the concepts of math and it was absolutely pointless to keep on fixing the idiotic training devices her father had created. Besides, she might as well just leave them broken, since that would mean that it would be longer until the next time the robots needed repairing. Sighing again, she mentally cursed Vegeta. Sexy he might have been, but he was a royal pain in the ass.
The woman slid back her chair, flicked a button on the computer to shut it down, and pulled off her white lab coat, flinging into the seat. Bulma began to walk through the lab and up the stairs. Catching sight of herself in a particularly shiny metal side panel, she made a face at her reflection. Her blue hair, which she had recently stopped curling and cut to her ears, was a mess of stray strands and far too puffed up for her taste. Her face lacked the usual makeup, so she thought herself very pale looking. Her clothes were wrinkled from the long hours of slouching as she became exasperated with her computer. It meant she'd have to take a shower, change, and groom before her date with Yamcha in three hours and that did not make her very happy.
"Those damn robots are almost as much trouble as Vegeta," she muttered angrily, continuing up the stairs. "Now I'll have to face his wrath for not fixing them." Bulma gripped the railing. "Someday I'll invent something that can kill a sayai-jin, just to see the look on Vegeta's face." She smiled evilly as she pushed open the door to the lab that led to the kitchen, plans for the weapon already forming in her mind. "Yes that would be wonderful... It would have to be atomic of course and-"
It was then she smacked into Vegeta, who was wearing only his navy spandex training outfit. With a thump, Bulma fell to the tiles. She rubbed her aching bottom and discovered (with disgust) that she had been covered with the sayai-jin's sweat during the brief collision.
"What are you muttering about, woman?" Vegeta did not stop to help her up and instead moved to the fridge to find something to eat.
Bulma glared at him. "Oh Vegeta," she said with mock sweetness. "I was just thinking about you." Then her tone changed completely. "Damn it, you are an ass, Vegeta!!! Don't you ever watch where you're going?! I was just planning to make something that would kill you, ya know that!?" She turned her nose up imperiously as she got to her feet. "And I could do that, you know! So don't underestimate me, or you'll find yourself a pile of bones one day!"
"Are the training robots fixed yet, woman?" He fished around the refrigerator and stuffed a raw steak into his mouth.
Bulma turned red, groaned angrily, and stalked off to take her shower (that she needed even more since she was now smelly and covered with Vegeta's sweat), seething.
*
Bulma had changed her outfit into a tightly fitting black leather mini-dress with a silver metal belt around the hips. After taking the warm shower she felt and looked much better. Fluffing her neatly brushed hair, she surveyed her body approvingly in the mirror. "Yes Bulma-sama, you are looking HOT tonight!" She winked at her reflection, slipped on her black high-heeled boots, and walked downstairs.
As she climbed into her black convertible, she felt a pang of dread about this date with Yamcha. How she looked was not going to help her here. She pulled out of the Capsule Corporation property and sighed. The woman did not know how her boyfriend was going to react to this. He could be nice and say it was no problem...Or he could just say that he was ashamed but would trust she wouldn't do it again...Or, more likely, he would be angry and completely dump her. He had actually taken her out to an expensive restaurant that night, so that was why she had decided to tell him, since he couldn't yell or throw a fit. Bulma pulled the air car into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant, returned the car to its capsule, and walked in.
*
Yamcha sat at the table, fiddling with his tie. He always had disliked dressing up in a suit, but for this occasion he needed to. "Tonight," he murmured. "I'll ask her tonight..." The man watched the door anxiously, and in only five minutes Bulma appeared. He smiled brightly at her and reflected that she looked absolutely stunning tonight.
She smiled back at him, though a little bit weaker. Yamcha caught this.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sincerely worried.
"Oh, nothing," she replied, pulling out her chair and sitting down.
The dinner commenced and Yamcha chatted whole-heartedly about the new baseball season, team, and upcoming games as they ate their sophisticated dishes. When the meal was almost over, he noticed that Bulma had not eaten very much, nor replied to anything he said. He studied her face carefully. Something was bothering his girlfriend and to notice it outwardly was something very rare for her. She always had blown up at little things, but kept the most important buried deep inside her. He signed the check to pay for the dinner and asked again, "What's wrong, babe?"
Bulma swallowed and looked up at him. "I...I..." she began in a small voice. "I...cheated on you. With one of the men on the computer staff" She gulped back a sob. "I'm sorry! I only meant to flirt, but it got out of hand! Please forgive me!" She fixed her stare on her empty plate.
Yamcha looked at her sympathetically. "It's okay," he said. "Listen, I can't say I've been the most faithful person in the world...so we're even. You're completely forgiven." He smiled reassuringly at her.
The woman was silent for a moment. "Yamcha," she asked weakly. "If I were your wife, what would you have done if I told you this?"
He stared blankly at her. "What?" he squeaked.
Bulma slammed her fists down on the table, causing the silverware, dishes, and glasses to shake. "Just answer the question!" she shouted. Most of the restaurant patrons turned around in their seats to cast appalled glares at her.
"Uh, Bulma dear, people are staring at us," Yamcha said nervously, pulling at his tie. She narrowed his eyes at him. "Heh, I'll answer your question, just calm down." Bulma sat back in her chair stiffly. "Listen, if you were my wife..." he began, trying to come up with an adequate response. "I would have been much more angry, but since-"
"You see," she whispered fiercely, a sob escaping her lips. To Yamcha's surprise, tears began rolling in steady streams down her cheeks. "Yamcha, I can't go on living like this!" she cried. "I...I want to get married! And have children! I love you Yamcha, but how long have we been dating? Ten years? Is a girlfriend all I'll ever be to you?" She gave a strangled cough. "Don't you see? How much longer do I have to wait?"
He stared at her. "I...I'm not ready to take the plunge yet, Bulma. I promise you though-"
"When will you be ready?!" she demanded. "When have you ever held your promises of marriage?!"
"I don't know... Just wait for me, I promise I'll be ready soon!" he pleaded.
"Yamcha," she whispered. "You've said that for the past three years whenever I brought up the subject. There's nothing behind your words. I think it will never work out." Bulma rose from the table and slowly walked to the door and out into the night.
Yamcha ran after her, coming out of the restaurant just in time to see her silver air-car pull out of the parking lot and speed away. He made a sound halfway between a sob a shout, throwing something small that glinted in the moonlight to the ground, and climbed into his own car to retreat to his house.
*
A little girl and her family trotted out of the restaurant at 9:00. The child looked to the ground and right by her boot lay something sparkly and beautiful. She picked it up off of the damp, black pavement. It was a dimond ring with a lovely silver band. The girl happily pocketed it, delighted that she found such a treasure, and ran to catch up with the rest of her family.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.
A/N: How was that, my friends? I hope it was a decent fic.
If enough people want me to, I'll make this a Bulma/Vegeta fic, except I have one problem with that. I think that their relationship started as lust, but developed into love after the Cell Games. As I am twelve, I would prefer not to write lemons. Therefore, there will be a huge gap until after the Cell games where the story picks up if I do continue it. *sigh*
Well, please review!
Bulma stared at the computer screen, her fingers drumming against her forearm. She sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes. It seemed that tonight her mind would not function with the concepts of math and it was absolutely pointless to keep on fixing the idiotic training devices her father had created. Besides, she might as well just leave them broken, since that would mean that it would be longer until the next time the robots needed repairing. Sighing again, she mentally cursed Vegeta. Sexy he might have been, but he was a royal pain in the ass.
The woman slid back her chair, flicked a button on the computer to shut it down, and pulled off her white lab coat, flinging into the seat. Bulma began to walk through the lab and up the stairs. Catching sight of herself in a particularly shiny metal side panel, she made a face at her reflection. Her blue hair, which she had recently stopped curling and cut to her ears, was a mess of stray strands and far too puffed up for her taste. Her face lacked the usual makeup, so she thought herself very pale looking. Her clothes were wrinkled from the long hours of slouching as she became exasperated with her computer. It meant she'd have to take a shower, change, and groom before her date with Yamcha in three hours and that did not make her very happy.
"Those damn robots are almost as much trouble as Vegeta," she muttered angrily, continuing up the stairs. "Now I'll have to face his wrath for not fixing them." Bulma gripped the railing. "Someday I'll invent something that can kill a sayai-jin, just to see the look on Vegeta's face." She smiled evilly as she pushed open the door to the lab that led to the kitchen, plans for the weapon already forming in her mind. "Yes that would be wonderful... It would have to be atomic of course and-"
It was then she smacked into Vegeta, who was wearing only his navy spandex training outfit. With a thump, Bulma fell to the tiles. She rubbed her aching bottom and discovered (with disgust) that she had been covered with the sayai-jin's sweat during the brief collision.
"What are you muttering about, woman?" Vegeta did not stop to help her up and instead moved to the fridge to find something to eat.
Bulma glared at him. "Oh Vegeta," she said with mock sweetness. "I was just thinking about you." Then her tone changed completely. "Damn it, you are an ass, Vegeta!!! Don't you ever watch where you're going?! I was just planning to make something that would kill you, ya know that!?" She turned her nose up imperiously as she got to her feet. "And I could do that, you know! So don't underestimate me, or you'll find yourself a pile of bones one day!"
"Are the training robots fixed yet, woman?" He fished around the refrigerator and stuffed a raw steak into his mouth.
Bulma turned red, groaned angrily, and stalked off to take her shower (that she needed even more since she was now smelly and covered with Vegeta's sweat), seething.
*
Bulma had changed her outfit into a tightly fitting black leather mini-dress with a silver metal belt around the hips. After taking the warm shower she felt and looked much better. Fluffing her neatly brushed hair, she surveyed her body approvingly in the mirror. "Yes Bulma-sama, you are looking HOT tonight!" She winked at her reflection, slipped on her black high-heeled boots, and walked downstairs.
As she climbed into her black convertible, she felt a pang of dread about this date with Yamcha. How she looked was not going to help her here. She pulled out of the Capsule Corporation property and sighed. The woman did not know how her boyfriend was going to react to this. He could be nice and say it was no problem...Or he could just say that he was ashamed but would trust she wouldn't do it again...Or, more likely, he would be angry and completely dump her. He had actually taken her out to an expensive restaurant that night, so that was why she had decided to tell him, since he couldn't yell or throw a fit. Bulma pulled the air car into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant, returned the car to its capsule, and walked in.
*
Yamcha sat at the table, fiddling with his tie. He always had disliked dressing up in a suit, but for this occasion he needed to. "Tonight," he murmured. "I'll ask her tonight..." The man watched the door anxiously, and in only five minutes Bulma appeared. He smiled brightly at her and reflected that she looked absolutely stunning tonight.
She smiled back at him, though a little bit weaker. Yamcha caught this.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sincerely worried.
"Oh, nothing," she replied, pulling out her chair and sitting down.
The dinner commenced and Yamcha chatted whole-heartedly about the new baseball season, team, and upcoming games as they ate their sophisticated dishes. When the meal was almost over, he noticed that Bulma had not eaten very much, nor replied to anything he said. He studied her face carefully. Something was bothering his girlfriend and to notice it outwardly was something very rare for her. She always had blown up at little things, but kept the most important buried deep inside her. He signed the check to pay for the dinner and asked again, "What's wrong, babe?"
Bulma swallowed and looked up at him. "I...I..." she began in a small voice. "I...cheated on you. With one of the men on the computer staff" She gulped back a sob. "I'm sorry! I only meant to flirt, but it got out of hand! Please forgive me!" She fixed her stare on her empty plate.
Yamcha looked at her sympathetically. "It's okay," he said. "Listen, I can't say I've been the most faithful person in the world...so we're even. You're completely forgiven." He smiled reassuringly at her.
The woman was silent for a moment. "Yamcha," she asked weakly. "If I were your wife, what would you have done if I told you this?"
He stared blankly at her. "What?" he squeaked.
Bulma slammed her fists down on the table, causing the silverware, dishes, and glasses to shake. "Just answer the question!" she shouted. Most of the restaurant patrons turned around in their seats to cast appalled glares at her.
"Uh, Bulma dear, people are staring at us," Yamcha said nervously, pulling at his tie. She narrowed his eyes at him. "Heh, I'll answer your question, just calm down." Bulma sat back in her chair stiffly. "Listen, if you were my wife..." he began, trying to come up with an adequate response. "I would have been much more angry, but since-"
"You see," she whispered fiercely, a sob escaping her lips. To Yamcha's surprise, tears began rolling in steady streams down her cheeks. "Yamcha, I can't go on living like this!" she cried. "I...I want to get married! And have children! I love you Yamcha, but how long have we been dating? Ten years? Is a girlfriend all I'll ever be to you?" She gave a strangled cough. "Don't you see? How much longer do I have to wait?"
He stared at her. "I...I'm not ready to take the plunge yet, Bulma. I promise you though-"
"When will you be ready?!" she demanded. "When have you ever held your promises of marriage?!"
"I don't know... Just wait for me, I promise I'll be ready soon!" he pleaded.
"Yamcha," she whispered. "You've said that for the past three years whenever I brought up the subject. There's nothing behind your words. I think it will never work out." Bulma rose from the table and slowly walked to the door and out into the night.
Yamcha ran after her, coming out of the restaurant just in time to see her silver air-car pull out of the parking lot and speed away. He made a sound halfway between a sob a shout, throwing something small that glinted in the moonlight to the ground, and climbed into his own car to retreat to his house.
*
A little girl and her family trotted out of the restaurant at 9:00. The child looked to the ground and right by her boot lay something sparkly and beautiful. She picked it up off of the damp, black pavement. It was a dimond ring with a lovely silver band. The girl happily pocketed it, delighted that she found such a treasure, and ran to catch up with the rest of her family.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.
A/N: How was that, my friends? I hope it was a decent fic.
If enough people want me to, I'll make this a Bulma/Vegeta fic, except I have one problem with that. I think that their relationship started as lust, but developed into love after the Cell Games. As I am twelve, I would prefer not to write lemons. Therefore, there will be a huge gap until after the Cell games where the story picks up if I do continue it. *sigh*
Well, please review!