I Still Love You
Chapter 1: Lies
AN: Yeah, another 3 years fic. This one, however, told from the pov of our favorite cheater, Yamcha. Oh, and on a side note. I'm not a big Yamcha fan, but surprisingly this is not meant to do any Yamcha bashing. If I do bash Yamcha, it is unintentional. This is how I believe that Yamcha felt about Bulma and why they weren't together. Sorry about the length of the chapter, it's a little on the long side. I just got so into it that I couldn't stop myself. Yeah and try to cope with the ranting and raving; I kinda got carried away and forgot where the story was at one time. So, that's why there's so much inner musings. Not sure exactly how far I'm gonna take this; so, bear with me. Anyways, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of it's characters.
It's late at night. I have once again been forced to sneak into the house. The door is open. I'm sure that she's waiting up for me. When I tip toe into the house, I notice that she isn't sitting around waiting for me. I breathe a sigh of relief, and hear someone breathing behind me. I quickly turn to see a familiar face. Two cold eyes of the deepest black stare at me with contempt. His onyx hair rises to a flame, and his mouth sneers at me like it always does. His chest is bare and beads of sweat trickle down his every curve. I take a single step back, and my foot catches on one of the family's shoes. I fall back and land on my ass. I stare up at the man who took my life; he stares back at me with a smirk plastered on his face.
"Sneaking off again, human?" Vegeta sneers.
"No. I was off training in the woods," I manage to stammer. He advances and sniffs the air around me.
"Which one of your whores was it? Who were you with this time?" he asks.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I insist, knowing that it is a blatant lie.
"Hah. You can't lie to me. I can smell her on you," he tells me. He's definitely very hard to lie to, not at all like Bulma.
"And so what if you can?" I ask as I pick myself off the floor.
"Does your girlfriend know about her?" Vegeta asks slyly.
"Who cares? It's not like she's ever gonna find out," I tell him.
"Fool. You don't think that she won't find out. She's smarter than you give her credit for," Vegeta mocks.
"Why do you even care about what happens between us?" I ask.
"Who says I do?" he says cryptically. He walks past me and treads up the stairs going to god knows where. Normally, I wouldn't attempt to follow, but for some reason I find myself unable to contain my curiosity. I sneak up the stairs as quietly as I can, but every step sounds like thunder to my ears. I follow him and watch as he heads towards Bulma's room. I feel the anger boiling inside of me. She's my girlfriend and that fiend can't have her; I won't let him! He looks into her room for a second and then stalks off to his room across the hall. I breathe a sigh of relief as I sneak past her room and into my room next door. As soon as I enter the room, I sneak off towards the bed and plop down as soon as I get near to it. I lie in bed staring at the symmetrical ceiling tiles as I try to think of a lie to tell Bulma in the morning. I settle on telling her that my coach had called a late night celebration of our latest win. I roll over and take a gander at the digital clock sitting on my nightstand. It's close to 3 am. I groan as I roll over again to stare at the ceiling. I begin thinking of the date that I had just had. The girl was some ditzy blonde that I had never met before until this afternoon's practice. We had a great time as we went out to some bar and got drunk. We later went back to her apartment and had a bit of the kind of fun that Bulma won't let us have, but the details are still a little fuzzy to me even now. The sex wasn't very good as far as sex goes and the girl was a little too ditzy for my taste, but boy did she have a nice ass. A really nice ass. I know that I won't be calling that girl back for a second date, but boy will I be missing that ass. What am I thinking? I have a beautiful girlfriend I should be thinking about not some ditzy blonde girl. I let out a deep sigh. I have a date with Bulma tomorrow evening, and I really should be training instead of constantly going out and having dates with every chick I see. I just can't help myself. I slowly find myself starting to fall asleep.
Later that morning:
The sweet smells of pancakes and syrup float into my room. Mrs. Briefs must be making another delicious breakfast. I rise and get dressed in my usual gi. I check next door to see if Bulma is awake yet to find her dressed in a simple green tank, white jacket and blue shorts and just closing her door behind her to prevent the air conditioning to be lost to the open air.
"Hey, babe!" I call out to her.
"Hey, Yamcha. Where were you last night?" Bulma asks. Moment of truth. Now, don't screw up.
"Coach had us celebrate our latest win, and it ran on until late in the night. I didn't want to wake you; since I got home pretty late," I lie, hoping that the lie works out this time.
"Well, I still would've preferred it if you had told me about it first," she says as she turns to walk towards the kitchen. I breathe a sigh of relief. I precede to follow my girlfriend down the stairs. When we both enter the kitchen, a familiar scene greets us. Mrs. Briefs busies herself with the abnormally large breakfast. Well, at least it's abnormal in the eyes of a normal person, but not a family living with a Saiyan. Dr. Briefs sits at the table already reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee.
"Hello, dears," Mrs. Briefs says when we enter.
"Morning, Mom," Bulma says with a wave.
"Morning, Mrs. Briefs," I say with a wave.
"Morning, kids," Dr. Briefs says.
"Morning, Dad," Bulma says.
"Morning, Dr. Briefs," I say.
"Morning, Vegeta," Bulma says. I turn my head to see the newcomer. From the side corner of the kitchen, a shock of jet black hair leans against the wall. With arms crossed, the chiseled stone figure of a man curls up the left side of his lips into a smirk. Daggers directed at me from his onyx depths stare me down.
"Hmph," is his only reply. It's weird seeing him in the kitchen for breakfast. He hardly ever eats with the family. Thinks he's too good for us or something.
"Have a seat everyone!" Mrs. Briefs exclaims. She busies herself with plating the massive amount of food. I take the seat next to Dr. Briefs. Bulma normally sits across from me. Her mother normally sits to her right and that jerk, Vegeta, to her left. Vegeta takes his place at the table.
"Need help with that, Mom?" Bulma asks.
"Sure, Honey," Mrs. Briefs answers. Bulma and Mrs. Briefs make the last few preparations for breakfast and hand out the plates. During breakfast, Mrs. Briefs spews out her gossip like tap water from a leaky faucet. Bulma goes on and on about her latest inventions. Dr. Briefs simply drinks his coffee, eats his doughnut, and reads his newspaper. Every once in a while he'll add a chorus of "Yes, dear"'s and "Of course, dear"'s to Mrs. Briefs' conversation. I eat silently adding a little here and there to the conversations. I try not to look over at a certain Saiyan while he eats. His unorthodox habits of picking his food clean of everything including the bones so fast without leaving a trace of food left disgusts me. I wonder where he gets it from. I know that Goku doesn't do that and he's a Saiyan too.
Not too long after breakfast has started, I hear the sliding of a chair on tile. Vegeta must be done. I look up from my plate, and sure enough, Vegeta gets up from the table and walks around both Bulma and Mrs. Briefs before stalking off towards the back door and the gravity chamber. As soon as he disappears from my sight, I turn back around to look at my girlfriend and notice that she's following Vegeta with her eyes, eyes that vaguely give away hints of attraction. I feel the anger swell up inside of me. How can she look at Vegeta like that when I'm her boyfriend? I cough obnoxiously to try to get her attention, but to no avail, her eyes are still firmly glued on the back of the retreating Saiyan. I sigh. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on her. I mean, I'm always checking out hot chicks; so, why shouldn't she be able to check out hot guys?
I shake my head free of this thought process. It is wrong. Very wrong. She's attracted to a heartless killer who could kill her in the blink of an eye. She does everything for him, and he gives her nothing in return. If it were just that, I probably wouldn't be as concerned about Vegeta's presence here as I am, but it's so much worse. I mean Vegeta's a killer who is easily angered and always wants to get his way. If he doesn't get his way, he resorts himself to violence. Bulma says I'm just being overprotective and maybe I am, but even so, she still goes out of her way to not only provide for him but also provoke him. It drives me crazy. Every time I tell her my feelings about how she treats Vegeta and how he treats her, she blows me off as a bad job and tells me not to worry about her.
Trouble is I do worry about her. I don't want her to die because of that bastard. I love her so much and don't want anything bad to happen to her because of him. I sigh again. Our relationship hasn't been going anywhere ever since I was brought back to life. I've told this to Bulma, but she tells me not to be too concerned about it. The trouble is that I am concerned. I want to spend the rest of my life with that girl, but she won't even let us have sex. Still a virgin after all these years, and then she wonders why I cheat on her. I only cheat because she doesn't want to allow us to have sex. It drives me nuts.
The slamming of a door shakes me from my thoughts. I look to see that it has done the same for Bulma too. She goes right back to talking about her inventions like nothing happened. It angers me. How can she act like nothing happened when she very clearly was lusting after Vegeta? I decide to confront the source of these lustful feelings. I quickly finish up my breakfast.
"Great meal, Mrs. Briefs," I say.
"Why thank you, Yamcha. You know I used. . ." she said as she started going on and on about how she made the meal.
"I'm going outside to do a little training," I tell Bulma as I start putting my dishes in the sink.
"Ok, honey. Don't work too hard," Bulma says. I give her a peck on the cheek before heading off towards the lawn, and my eventual confrontation with that bastard, Vegeta.
AN: Again sorry about how long it is. Hope you enjoyed this cause I enjoyed writing it. It's always refreshing to write the same old tale from a different pov.
