Disclaimer: Oh lord, people, please don't hate me. I got so bored with my last story, but there's a small chance of me finishing it, a very, very, small chance. Anyway…I'm starting a new fan fiction, I think it has some potential, you tell me. Don't own DBZ, if I did, this would be a movie.
She cursed under her hoarse breath from the pain and exhaustion of the coiled wires wrapped between her fingers. Her aggravation reached a new height when her messy, lose bun gave out, and unleashed her long blue strands of hair onto her face. Bulma clenched her hair a twisted it into a painful, long ponytail that was slowly pulling her hairline back. None of the pain mattered as long as her hair stayed out of her sweat streaked face, while she fixed the dammed machine. This was the fifth time the Gravity Machine broke down, and her 'Life Partner' certainly wasn't going to have it. Bulma cautiously backed away as the machine slowly started to smoke. She figured that the circuits need time to cool, or it would blow, just like her self. She threw the monkey wrench across the room, as it hit the ceramic wall with a loud "CLANG".
Bulma walked out of the small silver dome, and entered the password into the keyboard as a few small beeps affirmed the door was sealed. She clenched her fist and stuffed them inside her pocket as she stalked down the hall leading to her bedroom. It seem like it took centuries to reach the small gold plated knob, but it was soon enough that she turned it, and entered her safe spot.
She slipped off her sweaty flip-flops, and set herself onto her queen size bed, to reveal her hardened red feet. She rubbed each toe in the same, slow motion over and over again. It hardly helped. Bulma sighed and sat back onto her bed and let one foot dangle onto the side. She soon started to feel her eye lids get heavy so she closed them slowly. Bulma slipped deeper, and deeper into her sleep when-
"Woman, why the hell is the gravity machine not fixed yet?"
Vegeta casually walked in, surprisingly calm, he shot a death glaze at his wife who was pretending not to hear him. He slowly walked to the bed and looked over her tensed body. He observed her, looking for proof that she was really sleeping. He found none, she obviously wasn't that good at faking.
"Woman, answer my question"
Vegeta was slowly starting to lose patience, Bulma could tell by the chill she got after every word he spoke in his cold, warning voice, she figured it would be best not to start anything. She slowly opened her eyes and reflected the glance he was giving her. Bulma slowly sat up and started to speak:
"The GR is about to blow up. I had to give it an hour or two, or else I would have just created a bigger mess to clean up for you. Can you deal without training for a few hours? Babe, did you even eat this morning?"
"Don't call me those stupid, pet names," Vegeta spat " and wither I ate or not is none of your business. I'd swear you were worthless, but then you'd rebel and threaten not to fix the gravity machine. Woman, stop with the excuses, get your ass up and fix my machine."
Bulma blew her hair out of her face and got up, off of the bed. She was trying so hard not to start, but he was tempting her natural instinct to go off on his ass. Bulma kept her mouth closed and sashayed past him. He could have sworn he heard her whisper 'Yes Master' under her breath. All he could do was roll his eyes.
IN THE GRAVITY MACHINE"Insensitive"
She ripped out a wire.
"Thoughtless"
And another.
"Annoying"
Maybe three more
"Pompous, Jerk!
She slammed the door to the control cabinet and wiped the sweat off of her forehead. What did she see in the egotistical prince? If anything, his looks were charming, but sure as hell not his attitude. The only time he ever acted like he cared was that one night. That one beautiful night when they made music, when he said he loved her. He basically reeled her in like a fish with those three words. Did he know how much he changed things; does he even know the meaning of these words?
Bulma slid down the side of the machine and put her head between her legs.
"Why me?" Bulma moaned
Why her to fall in love with a man that has killed millions? Why her to think that a man with no heart would have heart to love her? Why, why, why? It made no sense, and the sad thing was the fact, that she was figuring this out just now. She wished she could kick herself. To bad it was physically impossible. Bulma decided to drown her troubles in Television so she picked up her tools and headed for her living room.
THE LIVING ROOM"Oh my dearest, how I've longed for you so. Please stay in my arms for ever"
"Oh Francisco, I feel the same. Please, promise you will stay with me forever. I couldn't survive with out you"
"Yes, yes. But understand, I am not your beloved Francisco but his robotic clone, cyborg 248. But I still love you. Your Francisco has never loved you the way I have. Please don't shut me out. I will not survive without you"
"Yes Me Amour 248, yes. All I need is your love to survive, that's all!"
Bulma turned off the Spanish soap opera, and rubbed her chin.
"Now there's an idea"
A/N: Oh how I hate Spanish soap operas. I almost puked writing that little section; I know you guys got sick reading it. That's hilarious. Once again I apologize for my last story but its time to move on. You know the dealio, LEAVE A COMMENT!
