It was hours after her two friends left when Yamcha arrived. She was simply sitting in her balcony, sipping on a tropical drink her mother made, when he flew down and landed behind her. She didn't turn around, her eyes was set on the spaceship that Vegeta was training in.
She heard him take a seat next to her, and placed his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, and he noticed.
"It was something I said, wasn't it?"
Bulma shrugged, hoping to shake of his hand, but it stayed glued onto her shoulder.
"Bulma, please tell me what I said. Whatever I said then, I didn't mean to sound it so insulting…"
She sighed, and looked him at him finally. Her eyes flashed anger and impatience. "The way you said things in there…you made it sound like you think I should feel happy that I am worthy of your liking, that I'm some low-class that has the honor to have your eyes on me, when most of the time, it isn't."
Yamcha was quiet, unsure of what to say. What he said next made Bulma soften. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that…I feel like our relationship is so strong that… nothing can break it, even when I flirt with other girls. Bulma, you have to know that I don't mean it, right? I don't like any other girl but you. It just seems like my nature, but I truly do love you."
She laid her head on his shoulder, yet again forgiving him. She felt him lay his head on hers, and everything seemed so right again.
Suddenly, the sounds from the spaceship made both of them look over the rail. The door had opened, and Vegeta walked out with a towel around his neck. Sensing them, he looked up at them and sent them a cold look. But Bulma knew that he was mainly looking at her; she could feel it in her bones. For some reason, she felt he was…disappointed and disgusted…
"I don't like him living in your house, Bulma." Yamcha said, as both them leaned back on their chairs.
Bulma lightly chuckled. "Well, it probably will last until you guys defeat the androids. Vegeta doesn't get along with people, and he needs to train. I'm afraid he won't get along with Goku and the others."
"Why do you care?" Yamcha questioned. Bulma noticed the anger in his question as she began to feel his fingers lightly dig into her shoulder. "We won't need him. We have Goku, Piccolo, Tien, Gohan, and me to fight against two people. Plus, we have that heart medicine for Goku, so he'll live to fight! Vegeta is just another pointless body. We won't need him. We have enough."
"He has no one, Yamcha. He has no family, no friends…nobody."
"He's a killer!"
Bulma suddenly threw his hand away from her and stood up. "Yamcha, if we're just going to argue over my guest, you better le--"
"Now he's a guest?!"
"He's always been a guest, Yamcha!"
"I don't understand, Bulma! You let some guy who killed thousands of people out there, who killed his own friend, that tall bald guy, who killed me, Tien, Piccolo, and Chautzo, live in your own house! Aren't you afraid?"
Bulma sadly looked away. "He's different, Yamcha. He's actually going to help."
"Yeah, and then kill us all!"
She sighed, not wanting this at all. They had just gotten over one argument, and now they're in another. These weren't like the ones she had with Vegeta. "Yamcha, just leave."
"What?!" Yamcha yelled with surprise and anger. "You're going to take his side!"
"It's my house, and I'll do whatever I want with it."
He stepped away then jumped into the air. Then he stopped and looked at her. "Fine. If you want to house a murderer, so be it. I won't be here to stop him from killing you."
With that, he flew away.
Vegeta was taking a long shower, deep in his thoughts to notice how long he was in there. He knew that Bulma had just gotten into an argument with Yamcha, and yet there she was again, with him! He had looked up at them as they stared down at him curiously. He sent them a dirty look, but most of all, he felt disgust towards Bulma's weakness to stand up and finally end a stupid relationship. She had once again gotten out of her way and forgiven her disloyal boyfriend. He had thought better of her. That was a mistake.
He turned the knob to turn off the shower and stepped out. He reached for a towel and wrapped it around his slim waist, the towel ending just above his knees. Opening the door, the steam sipped out into the open air, as coolness hugged him.
The sound of shuffling noises caught his attention down the hall, and then a bump. Curious, he walked down the hall towards the top of the stairs to see Bulma, simply lying there, with her arms on the wall, trying pathetically to get up.
"Wh…what are you doing?" he asked, completely baffled. This was most unusual!
"What does it look like?" she responded sarcastically. He vaguely noticed the way her words slurred as he watched her finally stand up straight. She took a step, and fell forward again. "I'm tryin' to get up these stairs, but they won't lemme. Help me."
He turned away. "You can help yourself."
"That's no way t'treat someone who defended you just moments ago."
He looked at her again with surprise. "You…defended me?"
"Yup, yup, yup. To m'stupid pig of a boyfriend…what's'is name again?"
He smirked. "How should I know?"
"Good point, m'fellow prince. Now help me."
Vegeta didn't know why, but he did. He carried her in his arms, and walked down the hall to her room. With his foot, he kicked the door open and placed her on the bed. But as he got up, her arms were wrapped around his neck, refusing to let him go.
"Ok, I helped you, now let me go." He ordered.
"I din't know you knew were m'room is." She said with a smile. Vegeta smelled the fumes of alcohol in her breath. He lurched back, but she still held on.
"You're drunk!" Vegeta exclaimed with shock.
She looked proud of herself. "Sure am!" she giggled ridiculously. Suddenly, she stopped and stared at him with wide eyes of admiration. "You sure are handsome, 'Geta."
He blushed, not really knowing how to react. His arms went up and tried to pry her hands lose. This was making him feel uncomfortable. "You better go to sleep."
"I can't sleep." She said with a pout. "I'm in no mood for that!"
Vegeta wiped his hand across his face with frustration. "This was a mistake." he said to himself.
"Let's make another." she said before trying to pull him for a kiss.
"What are you doing?!" he tried to pull away.
"Tryin' t'kiss you, silly." she giggled.
"This is madness! Let go!"
"Gimme a kiss, an' I'll letchu go." she began to pull him towards her, but he resisted.
"Absolutely not!"
"Why not, 'Geta? Don'tcha think I'm gorgeous?" she purred at the 'r' in gorgeous, and Vegeta found himself a little…excited.
"I think you're absolutely hideous." But he was smiling anyway.
"You din't think so on Namek. Nope, nope! Gohan said so hisself."
"What did he say?"
Finally, she did let go, and she tried unsuccessfully to sit up straight. Instead, she was slouched with her hands absurdly in the air. "He said…he said 'It was a gift from yer…yer shiny head friend, and the most beautiful serene-looking gorgeous woman I had ever set my stupid eyes upon.' Tha's what Gohan said."
Vegeta perfectly knew what she meant, and he knew he did NOT say that. Yes, he did call her gorgeous, but not anything else! He didn't deny she was gorgeous, though. Even in her drunken state, she seemed gorgeous with her flushed cheeks, and glazed azure eyes that looked at him hotly, her soft wet lips parted slightly--
"I have to go."
"Wait, 'Geta!" she cried as he turned around to leave.
"My name is not 'Geta! It's Vegeta!"
"Come back," she whined. "I don't want t'be left alone, not t'night." She pouted as she stared at him sadly threw her eyelashes. Vegeta found himself lost in them as he slowly sat down at the edge of her bed. She smiled angelically, winning this battle. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and fell back, holding on to him. He allowed himself to be pulled, enjoying the touch of her hands on him.
"Y'know what I like about you, 'Geta?" she whispered seductively into his ears.
"What's that?"
"I like the way yer hair stands like fire…I like the way yer muscles bulge in those tight shirts you wear…I like the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you look at me…"
Vegeta turned his head to stare at her lips as she said all those things, completely surprised and excited by her words. He began to lean down, tempted to capture those lips with his own…
"Y'know what I like…about….you the most?" she asked as her eyes fluttered before slowly closing. It was obvious that she was about to fall asleep.
"What?" he whispered, his lips almost touching hers.
"I like…the way you look without yer towel around you……"
He jerked back, her arms falling limply beside her head. He looked down, and--lo and behold! -- his towel lied forgotten on the floor. With shocking embarrassment, he bent down and quickly wrapped the towel around his waist, making sure it was tight so it wouldn't fall down again.
Spinning around to give her a lashing, he softened at the sight of a sleeping innocent angel. With his hand, he pushed her hair out of the way, and cradled her face. Something in him told him to get out, to forget whatever happened, but something else wouldn't let him. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek side to side.
"You know what, Bulma?" he thought out loud without realizing it. "I like you, too."
He moved down, took the blanket, and pulled it over her. Turning off the light in her room, he looked at her one more time, then left.
