Parts

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

The rough voice had Bulma's head whipping to her left. "Excuse me?"

While the room had been silent (spare the hush of the rolling sea and laughter of boys outside) it now crackled with palpable tension. Bulma fidgeted as spear-like blue cut through her with a sidelong glance.

"You heard me."

Bulma sniffed and grabbed her tea-cup with shaky fingers, fighting the blush that filtered over her cheeks. "Well, you can't like or dislike what isn't real," she offered as noncommittally as possible.

"Oh, I'm real," It defended itself with a toss of cropped blonde and tones low. Taunting and mocking. Bulma seethed. "Just ask Kurririn."

"No thanks," Bulma bit out. "I have no interest."

Those chilling eyes darted toward the open window then back again. Bulma watched in her peripheral, waiting for a sudden strike to come. "No interest, huh? Aren't you an inventor?" A smirk on its lips when Bulma froze, the tea-cup held still at her lips. "Don't you want to dismantle me and poke around? See what's inside?"

Bulma's silence gave her away, and she dipped her head to hide behind a rush of deep blue. "I already know how you work. I don't need to do that." She rallied herself, trying to find that glint that Vegeta often praised. "In fact, you're nothing more than parts."

The thing that looked like, acted like, and pretended to be a woman smiled wide and leaned into the couch. It looked like it had some kind of secret. "Well, aren't you?"

"I'm a lot more than that," Bulma cleared her throat and shifted away. "I'm an actual woman. I think and I feel and I--"

"I do all those things, too."

"You don't," Bulma denied her - no, it - firmly. "That's a lie. And I don't know what Kurririn sees in you. I mean, you're nothing more than a mannequin. He deserves much, much better."

"Then why isn't he with you, if you're so great?" It teased again. Bulma frowned deeply. "Is that why you don't like me?"

Bulma busied herself with reaching for the sugar across the table. "I never said I didn't like you." She hesitated then dropped the whole spoonful of white powder into her cup.

"But Kurririn likes me," it noted with a much more genuine smile. Bulma couldn't deny that it looked almost real. A perfect illusion, she couldn't blame Kurririn for that.

She swallowed a gulp of her tea and made a face. "For whatever reason he has, yes."

Bulma listened closely for the whir of mechanics as it eyed her from afar. She was well aware of its calculative stare. However, despite her efforts and her keenly trained ear, she heard no such sound and felt a pang of disappointment.

When she looked up again, Bulma found it gazing out the window toward the shore, watching Kurririn spar playfully with Trunks. Fleetingly, she considered apologizing for her rudeness, especially when it looked so distant with contemplative thoughts behind its mainframe.

A quiet gasp caught in her throat then as she noticed its hand move subtly across its belly, rubbing in gentle and soft circles that were not so unfamiliar to Bulma.

Author's Note: This was written for the first drabble contest for the deviantart group DBZ-Fanfics. The topic was "alien encounters" and it could be interpreted pretty much any way. So, I went with this little conversation between Bulma and Android 18, which I thought would be pretty neat to do.

Also, I know that Android 18 was actually a human first and then altered into a cyborg. And yes, Bulma probably knows that too. But in my humble opinion, I don't think it would be at all out of character for Bulma to feel somewhat prejudiced against 18 for her differences. In this story, Android 18 is the victim, and Bulma is the antagonist. Because, as much as I love her, Bulma is definitely a hard-headed and very much flawed individual, just like everyone else on the show. ;)

This is set sometime not too long after the Cell saga but before the Buu saga.