A/N: Thanks to those who read, reviewed, and favorited the story. I apologize for the long delay, I've had a lot of work lately. But I will finish this for sure, maybe just a bit slowly.
Thank you for taking the time to read. All comments and suggestions are welcome. I do not own DBZ or any of its characters, only my ideas.
For a while, 'fun' seemed to be a word unknown to the savage Saiyan. Train, eat, sleep, repeat. That's all he knew.
Right when I had lost all hope of him having an ounce of enjoyment in life, I saw it: a smile so raw and overpowering that it had to be genuine.
The shivers that settled painfully at the pit of my stomach and even lower told me I had to see it again, even if deceit was in order. But...
How was I supposed to know I would be the one deceived?
Bulma Briefs
Blasted heat.
The blue haired millionaire muttered as her safety goggles rode down her nose for the twentieth time. Don't get it wrong, she loved summertime: cold margaritas, alluring bathing suits, and splashing around. Tightening bolts and welding metal plates under the sun was not how she had envisioned her weekend. Sweat finally made her goggles slip from her nose bridge, causing her to tilt the plate and weld it at an awkward angle.
"Damned heat!" Bulma yelled, kicking the offending eyewear far from her. She tried to pull the crooked metal plate off but only managed to burn through her thick leather gloves, almost searing her palm had she not pulled away quickly. Why was she doing this again...?
Ah, right. Prince of Saiyans, mightiest monkey in all the universe.
Bulma honestly didn't mind repairing the gravity simulator or designing battle bots. Although Vegeta hadn't asked for her help directly, she had been helping her father and soon began enjoying the challenge that it implied. Vegeta mastered each version of the droids with incredible ease, making the young scientist wrack her brains for better designs. Needless to say, repair work had become an almost daily ritual for the past two months.
Although her schedule was increasingly tighter, Bulma didn't mind helping. Most of her friends were under the impression that the Saiyan threw his fists in the air and ranted to get his way around Capsule Corp. but in reality he was quite composed, if a little detached. Sure, "please" and "thank you" were foreign to his lexicon and friendliness be damned but his demands for upgrades were fairly tame. Vegeta spent his days training in and out, and on the rare occasions that he left the simulator, he kept to himself. The Briefs really didn't mind his presence. Bulma certainly didn't... It was noble of Vegeta to be working so hard to protect her planet, whatever his reasons were. She truly admired his dedication.
Except when it required her to waste a perfect Saturday morning on such tedious work. Taking a good look at her almost amateur work, Bulma sighed. Soldering circuit boards and replacing burnt chips was usual given the heavy usage of the machine. But replacing a whole section of the external shell? What the heck had that man been doing?! Inspecting the scrap that used to be the original plating, Bulma noticed a distinct handprint on a severely bent plate. Had the machine not been so precious to the alien prince, she would've thought it was intentional.
"Damn, who says mechanic outfits can't be hot?"
Bulma rolled her eyes at the cat calling: Yamcha had always sucked at pick up lines and compliments.
"Hey there, I'll be finished in a little bit" answered the scientist, her attention focused on the crooked plate she was trying to rearrange. She didn't even spare a glance at the fighter.
"Need some help with that?" The young man pointed a finger glowing with energy to the piece of metal Bulma seemed unable to fix. "I could melt it with a ki blast and-"
"Don't touch it!" Yamcha stepped back in surprise. "Vegeta hates it when someone else touches his GR"
Yamcha's jaw dropped. His GR? Didn't it belong to her dad?
"Why don't you wait inside? Mom can serve you iced tea or something"
"Oh"
Yamcha waited a few moments expecting Bulma to at least look at him, but she didn't. So he walked into the house feeling like he had been slapped right across his face. What the hell?
Pulling a fresh pair of gloves on, Bulma heard her mother offering Yamcha some lemonade and pastries. After spending hours working on the blasted gravity machine, she had little patience left. She only wanted to put on a skimpy swimsuit and lay in the sun for hours.
"Come on... Come off, fucking piece of- FUCK!" In her attempt to fix the misplaced plate Bulma had almost burnt her hand again. She was good with this sort of work, why was she messing up so bad now? "Son of a fu-!"
Hearing her colorful rant, Yamcha headed straight outside to offer a helping hand again. It was already past noon and he had come here with the sole purpose of seeing Bulma in the bright red bikini she had bought a few days ago.
He had not come here to see Bulma like this, though.
"Thanks, I... I couldn't..." Bulma trailed off, hypnotized by the ease with which the Saiyan manipulated raw energy, melting right through the messed up metal plate. He had been keeping an eye on the repairs from a hidden spot and had become impatient.
Yamcha wasn't sure what pissed him off most: Vegeta doing exactly what he intended to do or Bulma swooning over him.
"I could've done that" barked the scarred fighter.
His girlfriend and the Saiyan didn't spare him a glance and continued with their work, making Yamcha tighten his fists until his knuckles went white. What the hell was going on here?
As the crooked metal was removed, Vegeta stepped back but kept hovering over Bulma, no doubt impatient to have the repairs finished and effectively keeping the weaker fighter at a distance. It was reeeeeally starting to piss Yamcha off. Why was Bulma allowing this?!
"Almost done..." Muttered the scientist as she tinkered with some tools. "Can you do that energy beam thingy again and weld the plate right here?" She pointed at the empty spot on the GR shell. She wanted this to be finished already!
Hands off my girl, you bastard!
"I can do that" replied Yamcha as he reached for the piece of metal.
"I said don't touch it!"
"But-"
"Vegeta, can you sear the plate right here? It'll be ready with that"
Vegeta growled in disgust but picked up the metal, controlling his ki blast perfectly so that he wouldn't melt right through the machine. The hard training had really helped him master and refine his energy control.
"A little to the left..." Instructed Bulma, getting so close to the short man that they were almost touching. "Yes, now that corner... Less heat or you'll melt everything off"
Yamcha felt his blood boil. What the fuck was going on here? Was there something Bulma hadn't told him?! How come she was all over him and he didn't even bat an eye? And what was with that more prideful than usual attitude of the Saiyan?!
"Bulma..." Warned Yamcha without intending to sound so threatening. Or as threatening as he could be anyway.
"Not now Yamcha"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Bulma noticed how dismissive she had sounded. But gods, couldn't he just keep out of this? Before any more feelings of guilt could surge in her chest she saw it clear and sound: Vegeta's unnaturally sharp canines peeking from his lips, fully curved upwards in a satisfied smile as Yamcha seemed about to have an aneurism from pure anger.
It was unmistakable this time: Vegeta was smiling! And damn did he look hot! Without noticing her own actions, Bulma scooted closer to the Saiyan Prince, almost tucking herself under his muscular arm. Up close she could see the sharp features of his face: his pointy nose, his perfectly defined eyebrows, and that strong and sharp jaw, always held so regally high.
Damn, he does look like a Prince.
Yamcha stomped back into the kitchen before his control slipped and he engaged in a lost fight with that bastard. Fuck this shit!
Still lost in the rare visage of Vegeta's smile, she didn't miss the low rumble from his throat. Had he actually laughed?!
It was Yamcha's loud slam of the kitchen door that made Bulma's quick mind click: Vegeta had done it again. He did it on purpose to fuck with her boyfriend! The bastard was getting off on Yamcha's anger! But as much as she realized that it was the biggest dick move yet, Bulma could t help the jolt of electricity that coursed through her, shooting right to her core. It was overwhelming and all she could do not to moan was bite her lip. Was it frustration or desire? She couldn't really tell.
"Are you just gonna stand there or will you finish the damn work?" Demanded Vegeta in a low voice, effectively breaking the spell on Bulma.
"Oh" she hurriedly checked the exterior and screwed the bolts in for safety, all under Vegeta's unblinking g scrutiny. Bulma felt suddenly hot and flushed and she was sure the sun had nothing to do with it. The fumble with the tools also made her acutely aware of how wet her panties had become.
"It's ready" she announced, hiding her heated gaze from the strong alien. He had enough ego as it was without knowing the effect he had on her. "Just don't overdo it, let the systems cool every 6 or 8 hours"
Vegeta made that infernally sexy growling sound again and Bulma fled to the kitchen, not even bothering to gather her tools from the ground. What in the blasted hell is going on with me?
What she didn't notice was Vegeta's smile again, not so much at her reaction but at Yamcha's face contorted in jealousy, watching every second of the scene Bulma had put on right from the kitchen window.
Well isn't this amusing? Thought the Saiyan as he ventured into the gravity chamber, ready to pound in the hours of training he had already missed that day.
