Seven Days Itch
24th
The Capsule Corporation ballroom was transformed because this year, THIS YEAR, Bulma got to host the Christmas party and she was striving to be the best.
Standing in the massive room, with its floor-to-ceiling narrow mirrors, crown molding and winter wonderland ambience, Bulma held a coffee in her hand, a pen behind her ear and a clipboard in her arm.
Everything stood in bold appreciation of being called a Christmas color. Where the greens complimented the deep red and the gold made all the colors stand out that much more, the enormous Douglas Fir tickled the ceiling with its too-tall form. Scanning her azure eyes over a long, rich maple table occupying the east side of the North Ballroom, Bulma contemplated whether the yet-to-be crowded dining table should be adorned in a deep crimson patterned with even deeper crimson poinsettias tapestry or a forest green, patterned by felt holly.
Bulma sighed; she couldn't handle handling this pre-festivities melancholy tune anymore. It seemed all the same minute by minute, like the holiday was too far from ending, yet it hadn't even begun.
A blinding glint in one of the mirrors made Bulma turn towards the westward windows. The setting sun proved she and all her hired decorators had been working for a solid twelve hours, from the dawn of Christmas Eve.
"Okay everybody, thank you for all your help. Have a wonderful holiday."
Everyone started to slowly pack up any things that they had brought and said their goodbyes and Merry Christmases to Bulma, and all were gone by the time the ballroom started to take on a golden color from the descending sun.
Bulma stood in the huge room all alone, watching the winter sky shift colors. No sound interrupted Bulma's unwinding feeling, except for her sipping of her coffee, until she heard her mother's footsteps come up behind her, clicking along the hardwood floors.
"Bulma, honey, why don't you get some rest? You've been up since daybreak." Her mother stood beside her, enjoying the watercolors painted before her. Bulma gave her a pleasant smile.
"Everything's done and I really believe this year will be the best."
"Well, it should be, compared to Master Roshi's last year. It was awfully hot for that time of year and that old man is not pleasant in the heat."
"This year will be crowded, though, just by a few."
"How so?"
"Piccolo didn't join in last year, Goku talked Yajirobe and Korin to come down for the holidays and we've got Vegeta."
"Does Vegeta even know what Christmas is, Bulma?"
"Um.no. I haven't even told him about the party yet."
"I think you should go ask him before you go to bed, dear."
Bulma sighed, "Alright."
"Maybe you should put on a sweater too, sweetie, its getting pretty cold out there."
After tugging on an oversized sweater, Bulma walked out to the gravity chamber, where no doubt was where Vegeta was located this time of day. Noticing a strict chill shoot through her, Bulma wrapped her arms around herself after shutting down the gravity level manually from an outside panel.
Hearing excessive cursing over her chattering teeth, the door slid open to an impenetrable mask of anger in sheen sweat.
Once growling, Vegeta barked, "What the hell do you want?"
Heat and steam escaped the chamber and Bulma had to fight the urge to lean closer to the soaring temperature's source. The man before her was rude, yet Bulma was in no mood to argue about his hostility; she just wanted to get this over with and get to her plushy, warm bed.
"I was just wondering, Vegeta, if you know what Christmas is."
He snorted and about-faced, stating to the freezing Bulma behind him, "I don't have time for this." Upon reaching the controls, Vegeta closed the door to the chamber, but had yet to succeed in getting rid of his unwanted guest.
"Why can't you just answer the question, Vegeta?" Her voice was as steady as the dropping temperatures outside.
Vegeta faced her and crossed his arms over a sweaty, shirtless chest, "Why don't you enlighten me?" She paused, asking herself where to begin. "As quickly as possible."
She took a deep breath, "Okay, well, Christmas is a day that we celebrate the birth of Christ, a man willing to give his life for the sake of what he believes in, a martyr really. But if you don't believe in him, or whatever, Christmas is also the time of year to celebrate the joys of life."
"Joys of life." Vegeta repeated to himself. "Is that it? Because if it is, I have nothing to celebrate."
"Well, there are traditions too, you can take part in."
"Such as."
"Such as opening presents from your loved ones Christmas morning, and having a Christmas feast later that evening. And while waiting for the dinner to prepare, we go caroling."
"Caroling?"
"Yeah, walking around and singing to complete strangers."
"It sounds ridiculous."
"It's not Vegeta! It's the most wonderful time of the year." She had tried her best all day not to quote any Christmas songs and not be cliché.
"And why is that? Or rather, why are you asking me in the first place?"
"Because," she paused yet again, and she had no clue as to why, "because I wanted to know if you would like to join us tomorrow. Plus, you could prove that you have the balls to go to a Christmas party."
"Why should I?"
Bulma just keep on getting more annoyed by the minute, "because your Saiyan ego won't allow you to pass up a meal and a chance to bash on Goku's 'miniscule' power."
"Fine."
"Good. Great!" Bulma grinned.
"Go."
"Fine." Bulma shuffled to the door, but she still had to open it.
"Leave!"
"Leaving!" Bulma screamed out into the night as she exited through the tall alloy door, not even bothering to turn back to Vegeta.
Bulma stomped into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. She pressed her back against it and looked up at the dark ceiling because no lights had been turned on which meant her parents had gone to bed, already. She slowly slid down and pulled her knees to her chest and sighing away a long day past.
After taking a refreshingly and comfortingly warm bubble bath, Bulma slid under pillowing comforters and heavy fleece to drift off to sleep.
The Capsule Corporation ballroom was transformed because this year, THIS YEAR, Bulma got to host the Christmas party and she was striving to be the best.
Standing in the massive room, with its floor-to-ceiling narrow mirrors, crown molding and winter wonderland ambience, Bulma held a coffee in her hand, a pen behind her ear and a clipboard in her arm.
Everything stood in bold appreciation of being called a Christmas color. Where the greens complimented the deep red and the gold made all the colors stand out that much more, the enormous Douglas Fir tickled the ceiling with its too-tall form. Scanning her azure eyes over a long, rich maple table occupying the east side of the North Ballroom, Bulma contemplated whether the yet-to-be crowded dining table should be adorned in a deep crimson patterned with even deeper crimson poinsettias tapestry or a forest green, patterned by felt holly.
Bulma sighed; she couldn't handle handling this pre-festivities melancholy tune anymore. It seemed all the same minute by minute, like the holiday was too far from ending, yet it hadn't even begun.
A blinding glint in one of the mirrors made Bulma turn towards the westward windows. The setting sun proved she and all her hired decorators had been working for a solid twelve hours, from the dawn of Christmas Eve.
"Okay everybody, thank you for all your help. Have a wonderful holiday."
Everyone started to slowly pack up any things that they had brought and said their goodbyes and Merry Christmases to Bulma, and all were gone by the time the ballroom started to take on a golden color from the descending sun.
Bulma stood in the huge room all alone, watching the winter sky shift colors. No sound interrupted Bulma's unwinding feeling, except for her sipping of her coffee, until she heard her mother's footsteps come up behind her, clicking along the hardwood floors.
"Bulma, honey, why don't you get some rest? You've been up since daybreak." Her mother stood beside her, enjoying the watercolors painted before her. Bulma gave her a pleasant smile.
"Everything's done and I really believe this year will be the best."
"Well, it should be, compared to Master Roshi's last year. It was awfully hot for that time of year and that old man is not pleasant in the heat."
"This year will be crowded, though, just by a few."
"How so?"
"Piccolo didn't join in last year, Goku talked Yajirobe and Korin to come down for the holidays and we've got Vegeta."
"Does Vegeta even know what Christmas is, Bulma?"
"Um.no. I haven't even told him about the party yet."
"I think you should go ask him before you go to bed, dear."
Bulma sighed, "Alright."
"Maybe you should put on a sweater too, sweetie, its getting pretty cold out there."
After tugging on an oversized sweater, Bulma walked out to the gravity chamber, where no doubt was where Vegeta was located this time of day. Noticing a strict chill shoot through her, Bulma wrapped her arms around herself after shutting down the gravity level manually from an outside panel.
Hearing excessive cursing over her chattering teeth, the door slid open to an impenetrable mask of anger in sheen sweat.
Once growling, Vegeta barked, "What the hell do you want?"
Heat and steam escaped the chamber and Bulma had to fight the urge to lean closer to the soaring temperature's source. The man before her was rude, yet Bulma was in no mood to argue about his hostility; she just wanted to get this over with and get to her plushy, warm bed.
"I was just wondering, Vegeta, if you know what Christmas is."
He snorted and about-faced, stating to the freezing Bulma behind him, "I don't have time for this." Upon reaching the controls, Vegeta closed the door to the chamber, but had yet to succeed in getting rid of his unwanted guest.
"Why can't you just answer the question, Vegeta?" Her voice was as steady as the dropping temperatures outside.
Vegeta faced her and crossed his arms over a sweaty, shirtless chest, "Why don't you enlighten me?" She paused, asking herself where to begin. "As quickly as possible."
She took a deep breath, "Okay, well, Christmas is a day that we celebrate the birth of Christ, a man willing to give his life for the sake of what he believes in, a martyr really. But if you don't believe in him, or whatever, Christmas is also the time of year to celebrate the joys of life."
"Joys of life." Vegeta repeated to himself. "Is that it? Because if it is, I have nothing to celebrate."
"Well, there are traditions too, you can take part in."
"Such as."
"Such as opening presents from your loved ones Christmas morning, and having a Christmas feast later that evening. And while waiting for the dinner to prepare, we go caroling."
"Caroling?"
"Yeah, walking around and singing to complete strangers."
"It sounds ridiculous."
"It's not Vegeta! It's the most wonderful time of the year." She had tried her best all day not to quote any Christmas songs and not be cliché.
"And why is that? Or rather, why are you asking me in the first place?"
"Because," she paused yet again, and she had no clue as to why, "because I wanted to know if you would like to join us tomorrow. Plus, you could prove that you have the balls to go to a Christmas party."
"Why should I?"
Bulma just keep on getting more annoyed by the minute, "because your Saiyan ego won't allow you to pass up a meal and a chance to bash on Goku's 'miniscule' power."
"Fine."
"Good. Great!" Bulma grinned.
"Go."
"Fine." Bulma shuffled to the door, but she still had to open it.
"Leave!"
"Leaving!" Bulma screamed out into the night as she exited through the tall alloy door, not even bothering to turn back to Vegeta.
Bulma stomped into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. She pressed her back against it and looked up at the dark ceiling because no lights had been turned on which meant her parents had gone to bed, already. She slowly slid down and pulled her knees to her chest and sighing away a long day past.
After taking a refreshingly and comfortingly warm bubble bath, Bulma slid under pillowing comforters and heavy fleece to drift off to sleep.