Summer hastily fled away from the Earth allowing autumn rains and winds to pitch a tent in its absence. The long days disappeared and were substituted by early evenings. Beautiful vegetation recoiled into itself trying to savor what little heat they contained and vainly withered.
Mrs. Briefs sighed as she caressed one her hydrangeas. She just didn't have the stamina she had when she was younger to preserve her pampered garden during the colder months.
She found it insulting when her husband's landscaper proffered to keep her patch of flowered land. Her flowers were hers to maintain or neglect. Unfortunately, they would have to lose their beautiful petals for several months until spring was upon them once again. They didn't have to be in bloom everyday of the year for her to cherish their immortal beauty.
Off in the distance a faint ringing was heard. Instantly it stopped and Mrs. Briefs took a sip of her homemade margarita as she lazily lounged in the lawn chair. She knew it wouldn't be too long before her daughter was on the chair beside her balling her eyes out. Her motherly instinct was remarkable as her ears registered the familiar cacophony.
Bulma screamed as she frustratingly slammed the phone down onto its receiver. She whirled through the kitchen door and it nosily shut behind her. She pouted her way all the way over to her mother and with a big thud flopped in the lawn chair.
Mrs. Briefs took one last sip of her Friday night special and swallowed hard. She waited awkwardly in silence for her only child to speak her peace. Bulma just wrinkled her nose in suppressed rage and reclined in the chair.
"Who was that on the phone, dear?" Mrs. Briefs rhetorically inquired. Only one person tormented her daughter so.
"No one worth mentioning" she huffed.
"They must be worth some mentioning if they have you in such a tizzy!"
Bulma unfolded her arms and leaned forward. She opened her legs and placed her hands on her temple to assuage her budding headache.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Bulma shot an insecure glance at her mother. Mrs. Briefs was slightly taking aback. Was she asking that out of pint up hostility or unconfident sincerity?
"Whatever do you mean, Bulma? You are one of the smartest persons I know besides your father. The things you can do with a circuit board, metal, wiring…"
Bulma interrupted her mother, "I don't mean that, mom. Do you think I'm stupid for loving Yamcha after all that he has done?"
"No," the older woman stated "just a little confused. Much has happen in the past year and it is understandable to want a companion in these times."
Bulma emerged her head from its protective cocoon of fingers to look at her mom. She could see her point. A lot had happen over the past several months, memories she didn't want to rehash. However, companionship wasn't assuring enough, not anymore. It didn't fill her the way it use to.
"Yamcha and I haven't been intimate in two years" she frankly said and her mother's eyes bulged at her confession.
"Oh" was the only reply her mother could muster. She hadn't expected that.
Bulma's eyes glossed over as her mind went back so many months ago.
"I had caught him cheating," she barely spoke over a whisper "and even though I let him back into my heart I told him he would never come back into my bed."
"That's one twisted conclusion you came to, dear. How do you expect any man to be faithful and you deny him an intimate relationship?"
Bulma's cerulean eyes heated up and she stood at her mother's words.
"So you take his side now, mother?! How could you even say that?" Bulma's tear ducts began to swell. She had went to her mother for some reassurance but instead got words she couldn't understand. He was the infidel. He was the bed roamer. Her thoughts weren't twisted.
"What I mean…" Mrs. Briefs tried to explain.
"….Is that I'm a terrible girlfriend because I decided to keep my body safe from who-knows-what kind of disease Yamcha has" she hoarsely stated. She wasn't going to be a dumping ground for any critters, bacteria, or viruses Yamcha had been exposed to during his sexual excursions.
"Let me finish" Mrs. Briefs put her milky white hand in the air to silence her berating daughter.
"You were wise to take precautions against having relations with him. But no man who is use to getting relations on a regular basis will stay faithful. And besides, I know there are a lot worse things than an STD at stake."
"Like what?" Bulma couldn't understand her mother's philosophy.
"A broken heart is one." Mrs. Briefs stood and placed her small hand on her daughter's cheek. The contact immediately released her tears.
She sincerely looked into her child's eyes "just as you protected your body you should have protected your heart. To allow him back in so easily and so many times you have taught him to trample over your feelings. Sure he could get it anywhere else. But he knows were he could get love for free. He doesn't need to coax you or even buy it from you because you so willingly offer it to him."
"So I am stupid?" Bulma turned her gaze from her mother shamefully but never leaving her soft embrace.
"Do you think you have another ten years to offer your love to him?"
Bulma shook her head.
"I think your IQ is climbing" Mrs. Briefs giggled trying to lighten the mood. She hated to see her daughter so somber. Although she had not instilled it in her, she was arrogant and proud, and Mrs. Briefs wanted to see the daughter she knew.
Bulma smiled some and wiped her tears.
"I have a little food for thought. Imagine a few years from now after the whole android thing is over. Everyone has survived and gone back to the respective families. Can you imagine being married to the Yamcha you know now and with maybe a baby or two?"
"No, he's just too immature and selfish and--" her mind trailed off "there would be much more at stake than my feeling if we were to have kids. I just couldn't put them through that."
Mrs. Briefs face lit up and she clasped her hands together. "By golly, I think we have a genius!" she exclaimed.
Bulma snickered and hugged her mother tightly.
"I guess you aren't as old as I thought you were" Bulma jokingly said. Mrs. Briefs took her daughter by the shoulder and glared evilly at her.
"Well no matter how senile you may think I am I believe at little Saiyan guest is all you need to get over your dry spell" Mrs. Briefs devilishly grinned at Bulma when she jumped from her mother's embrace.
"You may need a vacation at the infirmary if you ever think me and Vegeta…." Bulma shook herself in disgust not able to complete her thought. It could and would never ever happen.
Mrs. Briefs picked up her glass and headed back to the house.
"Oh please, Ms. High and Mighty, even thought your prideful self won't admit it aloud you know he is attractive. He has that regal charm about him, doesn't he?" Mrs. Briefs threw a glance over her shoulder.
Bulma went to go follow her mother in the house but stopped and placed her hands on her hips at her last comment.
"All our Saiyan prince cares about is food, training and surpassing Goku. That's his life" she reminded her mother. If Vegeta could provide a GR and nourishment for himself he would definitely leave the compounds of Capsule Corps without a second thought.
"Doesn't sound like you refuted my argument, dear" the back door retracted shut.
Bulma stamped her foot- she hated to not get the last word. She went after her mother to continue their conversation.
Vegeta snorted in disgust. He had had it up to his onyx eyes with their discussion on feelings and relations. His stomach churned with each word they spoke about Bulma's relationship with the weak, ugly human.
He perched himself on the rooftop and meditated as he did after every training session. As he worked his muscles daily to enhance his strength and ability to one day ascend to his rightful place as the Legendary, he also labored to preserve his minds sharpness and isolation.
He had never stayed on a planet so long. He didn't know how he would react to the bombardment of his senses. Although she paraphrased his life and purpose into a few valid but insignificant points, he had experienced new things on the unworthy planet that he resided on. Things that was tolerable but still to be kept at a distance. He did not want to become familiar with anything or anyone associated with the planet.
An evil smirk danced upon his face. He loved it when he gained knowledge about the adversary. He didn't have to threaten, violate, or beat it out, although he would happily oblige. He just sat there and it was laid out in front of him like an offering of the season's first kill.
All wasn't well with her and her pathetic mate. She was having doubts. But most importantly, what really made his blacken soul dance, she had be untouched for two years. He didn't know how he was going to use it against her. Maybe he could use it to kindle her anger or use it to insult her intelligence and pride.
But that would be decided at a later time. Vegeta's mouth began to water as he smelled the older woman's meal come together. His stomach responded harshly and he patted his abdomen and leapt off the roof.