"Do you think I could borrow your cell?" Bulla requested, staring at the ceiling from the increasingly familiar leather couch. "I want to see if Maddie's okay, but I think I left mine behind yesterday."
"I broke mine last night," Goten responded from the kitchen stool a few feet away, resting his chin into the palm of his hand.
"Really?" She pushed herself up, gripping the back of the couch to face him. "So we're actually completely isolated here until further notice?"
"I guess so," he shrugged, squinting while he inspected the dirt under his fingernails.
Bulla groaned as she dropped and turned herself around to lay on her stomach. She began tracing her fingers lightly along the floorboards.
Goten walked up to the couch and rested his elbows on the spine, looking down at the bored teenager below him. "Do you wanna do something?"
"Like what?" she mumbled, still twirling her fingers on the floor. She felt the couch dip when Goten moved her feet and took a seat beside her, placing her legs on his lap once he was settled. She was unable to get comfortable and decided to flop back onto her back, revisiting her first position. As she turned, she caught him sneaking a glimpse at the strip of skin that had exposed itself in the dip between her short white t-shirt and figure-hugging jeans. He jerked his eyes away, staring blankly at the muted TV in front of him. Self-consciously, she pulled at her t-shirt which had ridden up even further in the turn.
"I bet you'd be out slaying right now if you didn't have to babysit me," she commented after waiting a few moments for his response.
"What?" He shifted beneath her legs. "Oh. Yeah probably," Goten replied, barely following the conversation.
Bulla started laughing, "Wow, I was just kidding," and looked up at him to judge his expression more carefully. "You really are a womanizer aren't you?"
"Argh, what? No," he responded sheepishly, turning to face the adjacent wall. "I just wasn't paying attention."
"Too late, you already admitted it," she giggled. "So." She began flexing her feet playfully. "How many women have you slept with?"
He raised an eyebrow in her direction. "We're going straight there are we?"
"May as well."
"Unfortunately, I can't satisfy that curiosity of yours Bulla," he answered after a few seconds, twiddling her restless feet. "I don't know how many women I've slept with."
"What? How is that possible?" Bulla leaned into her elbows, looking at up him in confusion. "Surely you have some idea. Like fifteen? Twenty?"
He stared back at her vacantly.
"More? Thirty? Forty? Fifty?"
Nothing.
"More than fifty?! What are you!" She threw a cushion at his face. "A walking hard-on?"
Goten caught it and laughed, "Please Bulla, you're gonna give me a complex."
"Yeah right! No wonder you're so smug all the time. I bet you think you're the hottest guy on the planet."
"Not quite," he admitted. "That title probably belongs to your brother. And besides, I've got a pretty unfair advantage being half-Saiyan and all."
Bulla snorted. "I guess that only works for one gender. Lucky you."
Goten's laughter eased as he glanced at the teenager sitting next to him. She was still smiling, but her thoughts were drifting.
"You don't actually believe that do you?" he asked, tilting his head to face her more comfortably.
"Believe what exactly?" she asked distractedly. She had started fiddling with a piece of plastic she'd found on the floor.
"You don't believe that I would have an easier time getting dates than you would."
"Oh, I definitely believe that," she answered, giving her new toy a sniff.
"C'mon Bulla, I'm way older than you. Of course I'll have gotten around more."
"You're not that old Goten," she countered, momentarily diverting her attention from her fingers to glance up at him. "And that's not the point. I just don't attract attention the way you do."
"Okay, I've heard enough," he declared, letting go of her feet. "You're just fishing for compliments at this point."
"No," Bulla insisted, still smiling. "I'm not. I'm serious."
"Then you're delusional," Goten stated, turning his attention back to the television.
"Life experience suggests otherwise," she shrugged, dropping her elbows and falling back into the couch, flicking the plastic to the opposite end of the room.
"Bulla," he spoke, shifting to face her once again, resting his arm on the back of the couch. "You're gorgeous."
The teen blew at a piece of teal fringe that had fallen into her eyes.
"I see how guys look at you," he continued. "As does Trunks. As does Vegeta. Why do you think they're so protective over you?"
"Because they're crazy." She started laughing again. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but we don't have to talk about this. I'm just being whiny, I guess."
Bulla got up and headed for the kitchen, hoping food could save her from the mindless boredom. "Hey Giacomo, your cupboards are kinda empty."
"They are? Fuck," he muttered from the couch. "I guess it has been a while since I went to the store."
"Actually that's not entirely true," she recanted, head buried in one of the far cupboards. She emerged with two generous bottles, one in each of hand. "You've got enough spirits here to supply the Russian mob."
"Hey, put those back," he called out, hopping over the couch to impede the restless teen.
"Come on Goten, I thought you were cool," she sang, tilting her face up to meet his.
"It's one thing to keep it from Trunks when I catch his little sister with a beer, but it's another thing entirely if I get her drunk myself," he frowned as he folded his arms.
"I'd be getting myself drunk," she countered, smiling sweetly.
"No," he said, clearly suppressing a grin as he reached for the bottles in her hands.
"Pleeeease," Bulla pressed, flashing her most winning smile.
"Okay, look. You can have one drink, but that's it! I'm not gonna let you get plastered."
"Yesss!" the heiress celebrated, immediately pulling out a pair of tumblers and filling them with bourbon.
"Easy there, princess." He reached over her and pulled the bottle out of her hand. "When I said one drink, I didn't mean a full glass." Bulla stuck out her tongue and took a swig, handing Goten the other glass.
"Cheers," he said taking his own sip and nodding in her direction.
As can be expected of two half-aliens with a frustratingly high tolerance for alcohol, neither stopped at one drink.
Before long, the lights went off and the stereo went on. Only a small corner lamp provided enough illumination for them to move around without bumping into anything. Bulla had abandoned her shoes and was spinning around in her white socks. She had the room to herself and had thrown out her arms, spiralling aimlessly while she stared at the ceiling. The heiress relished feeling so loose and light-headed - even when she stopped spinning, the room danced without her.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to take a mental snapshot. I want to remember this moment forever.
When she opened them again, she saw that Goten had finally decided to join her on her newly designated dance floor. He appeared to have loosened up considerably, and was bobbing his head while he danced in a pair of black wayfarers a few feet away. She observed him as she continued to dance in her little spot, smiling to herself at what a silly pair the two of them made.
She shimmied his direction, catching his eye for the first time. Tipping his sunglasses to the end of his nose, Goten flashed her a smile. "Hello, pretty lady."
"Hey pretty boy," she replied, playfully batting her eyelashes before showing him her back and continuing to dance.
"What a sight for sore eyes you are, in this little corner of the world," he teased.
"Oh, I'm sure you say that to all the girls," she countered, turning around to grin at him.
"Only the ones as pretty as you," he declared with a wink.
She rolled her eyes, stifling the smile that was creeping its way to the ends of her mouth. "Tell me," she pressed her finger to her cheek and tilted her head questioningly. "At what point am I meant to fall for your charm and become putty in your hands?"
"Around about... now," he answered, bringing his lips together mockingly as he reached out to her.
"Ah!" she shrieked, running away in a fit of giggles. "Get away from me you man whore."
He put his glasses back on with a broad grinned. "Good answer," he remarked, continuing his solo dancing. "You're getting better, princess."
Bulla laughed at his antics and pranced his direction once more, "You are such a clown," and proceeded to dance in a circle around him, bouncing and waving her arms in the air unreservedly.
Without warning, Goten grabbed her with his left hand and proceeded to spin her around on the spot. Every now and then he'd twirl her towards him and promptly spin her away.
Bulla couldn't contain her giggles, she hadn't felt this free in as long as she could remember. As he pulled her in once more, she lightly rested her free hand on his chest, threw her head back and began laughing out loud. She was delightfully dizzy and found herself struggling to stay upright so Goten placed his hands on the centre of her back to steady her, leaning over her as she dipped backwards.
He took his sunglasses off altogether this time, tossing them aside, and ran his fingers through her hair, watching as the turquoise strands fell lightly. "And such lovely locks too." He let out a whistle. "What a vision. Woman after my own heart."
Her tilting had passed the point of no return and Bulla soon found herself losing her balance. She tumbled backwards, pulling her dance partner with her and the two halflings landed ungracefully in a pile of laughter on the hard floor, Bulla on her back with her hair sprawled beneath her and Goten on top of her.
"Ow," she chuckled, arching away from the cold floor.
"I probably should have been able to stop that," he admitted sheepishly, pushing into his hand to relieve her of his weight. As he leaned into his elbow, hovering over her, Bulla looked up and saw the dark-haired hybrid grinning at her lazily. Softly, he ran his fingers across her forehead, clearing her tousled hair from her face, before gliding the tips down to her jaw. "Let me help you up." He planted his foot and gripped her forearm as he pulled her back to her feet.
Still giggling, Bulla grabbed on to his arm to help keep herself upright and leaned her head on his chest. Idly hooking her hands around his neck, she closed her eyes once more.
They stayed like this for a while, swaying slightly to the sounds of the stereo. His hands were a little lower now, resting lightly on her waist and when she looked up, Bulla saw that he was still looking at back at her with that lazy grin. She smiled back drowsily until she noticed his lips slowly begin to straighten.
After a few seconds, she realised that she had been staring at his mouth. Oops.
She quickly returned her cheek to his chest, hiding the red tint that was rapidly building. Keeping one hand wrapped around her middle, Goten lifted the other to the heiress's hair, tenderly stroking the back of her head. This feels like home, she smiled to herself.
When Bulla lifted her gaze once more, she was perplexed by the dark-haired hybrid's shifting expression. The warm, playful menace from before was starting to disappear. Before she had a chance to contemplate it any further, he abruptly let her go and took a step back.
"I need some water," he muttered.
Bulla, still rooted in place, turned her head discreetly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the older hybrid. He was standing near the sink, pressing his palms into the bench top with his face angled downward. Due to the low lighting, she couldn't quite make out his expression.
"I think I need to lie down," Bulla voiced, placing her hand on her forehead. "Way too many spins." She made her way over to the couch and plopped herself onto it, letting her leg hang over the side. Slowly, her eyes drifted closed while her head continued to swim circles in the room around her.
"You alright there, princess?"
Bulla groggily opened her eyes to find her housemate leaning over her. He was resting one hand on the spine of the sofa while he inspected her face closely.
"I feel great," she beamed, closing her eyes once more as she shuffled and readjusted to get deeper into the grooves of the couch. She heard a snort.
"Don't get too comfortable," he warned. "I still need to sleep there tonight. You've already hijacked one of my beds."
She turned defiantly, so that her back was facing outward and her face was buried in the back cushion. "What if I wanna sleep here tonight," she grumbled.
"Sorry little lady, but this bunk's not quite big enough for two."
"We could figure something out," she yawned.
At this, he laughed out loud. "You are too much, you know that."
"So I've heard," she responded absently, drawing her knees inward.
She opened her eyes slightly when she felt movement on her newly claimed cot. In her haze, Bulla spied that Goten had, in fact, joined her on the couch. He was sitting upright, leaning the back of his head against the spine of the sofa, face pointing at the ceiling. Pushing into her hands, she tucked her knees beneath her and swapped over to the opposite side of the sofa, laying her head on the older halfling's leg and draping her arm across his lap.
"What are you, a cat?" he jested, glancing down at the inebriated teenager. She felt his warm hand gently glide along her arm. "C'mon Bulla, go to bed. You're cold."
"Not yet," she mumbled into his leg, nestling her face deeper into the denim covered limb.
With a sigh, he asked, "Am I going to have to carry you? Is that what you're waiting for?"
"No," she answered, turning on to her back and keeping her eyes closed. "Just give me another minute."
The room still felt like it was wobbling. Wait, that's me.
Bulla opened her eyes once more, earning herself an eyeful of Adam's apple. True to his threat, Goten was currently carrying the defiant heiress to her real bed. He smells kinda nice, she thought to herself as she took in a deep breath.
"Oh now you're awake, are you?" he chided, causing her to smile bashfully into his shoulder.
"You didn't have to carry me you know," she drawled, nestling further into the crook of his neck. "I would've gotten up on my own." Through heavy lids, she curiously dotted her index finger along the protruding lines of his collarbone.
He looked down at her as he twisted through the door, entering his room with the teen in his arms. "Somehow I doubt that," he smirked.
"Hey, Goten," she lilted as he carefully placed her on his double bed, resting his fist on the mattress next to her while he waited for her to finish her thought. "Thank you for tonight." She turned her head to nuzzle against her pillow, lifting her eyes lazily to meet his. "I had a lot of fun."
After observing her for a few moments, a faint smile crept on his face. "Trunks can never know about this." He briefly glanced out of his bedroom window before returning his attention to the heiress. "He's one of the few people on this planet who could actually kill me."
She beamed back at him. "I'll keep that in mind."