Thanks for the awesome reviews, peeps! They made my week!
This chappie is a little longer than usual. Thank you 'joe' for pointing it out. I realised that too so now my chapters will be longer! =D
Enjoy and remember to review after!
| ImaginaryInk |
"... Thanks," and she smiled sweetly at him, to which he merely grunted in response before plunging into his couch. It wasn't much of a chore since he only stacked his part of the plates. But Bulma was thankful for that alone. At least he wasn't as egoistic as she thought he was. Even Yamcha wouldn't do such things like helping her with the small little tasks. But Vegeta did, in fact, several times today. And that counts for something great.
With that, she smiled some more while she piled all the dirty glassware into the dishwasher.
Maybe, just maybe, things will get better from here onwards.
One month.
One month may not seem that long to some, but to Bulma, it felt like forever.
One month stuck on a barren planet with nothing but limited food and materials, shelter and clothes. Then, she sighed heavily at her afterthought.
And Vegeta.
It's only been a month and her make-shift house already looks like it had its best days. Metal walls were torn apart, save for the furnishings, bedroom and shower doors, and in time, she reckon she'd might have to rip some appliances apart, too. Vegeta had been of great help, well, to some extent. He did mostly the tough jobs like tearing the walls and front door down. And he had made it look so damn easy!
Oh, and what was fun, at least to her, was when she told him to go make like a plasma torch after asking him 'nicely' again to repair the large hole next to the gravity console.
She had to wear a pair of sunglasses to shield her eyes from the extreme light caused by the flames since she needed to guide him. Bulma almost threw a fit when Vegeta decided not to bother himself with any safety measure, stating mindlessly that a Saiyan does not need such petty precautions.
According to him, it was a job for the weakest. Of course, Bulma took offence at his arrogant statement and tapped lightly on the back of his head. Vegeta didn't take it lightly for he turned around and grabbed her wrist before she could even get away. He yanked her towards him and growled menacingly into her face before lightly pushing her down onto the metal floor, but not enough to hurt her. Well, not that much. After that, he acted like as if nothing happened and continued to melt metal, ignoring her string of curses.
The task was done quicker than Bulma expected, leaving the both of them with nothing more to repair for the day. For the past month, they've done what they could to the exterior and minor wirings. As for the more intricate internal ones like the main controls and the gravity console, Bulma needed more time. More time to study them and to source for more materials, if need be. Many nights she had mentally cursed herself for not paying more attention when her dad was rebuilding this replica of Kami's spaceship. She should have, it could have been so much easier.
The mid-afternoon suns shone fiercely above them. And according to Bulma's repair plans, there wouldn't be any more breaking and fixing for the day. Every day, a little admiration towards her builds a little more on Vegeta's part. He was glad that they were able to follow through the plans on time, so far.
The other day, Bulma had explained to him in detail and specifically why she had set a repair course of ninety-seven days. Well, slow and steady she said. She needed to be sure that everything will turn out better than expected.
Why ninety-seven days? Why not sixty-one days?
Beats Vegeta.
He tuned out the moment she started explaining once more about how little resources they had. That there were so many things which need to be used sparingly, or how the house is already in ruins and they need to scavenge whatever they can. And how bad the weather is and how it rained the whole day yesterday that it'll probably rain till tomorrow evening, and then some. It took him a lot of inner strength to not blast her just to shut her up, forever.
So, he did what he thought was only sensible at moment, to take his mind off all her incessant jabbering.
Train.
Back in the house, Bulma thought she might like the idea of sunbathing a little. It's been a really long time since she did that. So, wearing a light pink sports bra that rode to her mid-section complemented by a matching pair of pink cotton shorts, she walked out of the house barefooted with a mat in hand and a jug of ice cold water in the other.
She closed her eyes and lifted her face towards the sky, vividly remembering how she used to lounge by her enormous backyard pool, just enjoying the sun rays licking her pale skin – when there were no harmful threats – just peace and happiness as the days go by. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she placed her stuff down, knowing her day dreams are still far away from reality. She had gotten used to the planet's heat and since she hadn't gotten the chance to have fun for awhile now, she was sure it wouldn't hurt to take a little vacation, right?
After all, his royal assness can't possibly expect her to finish fixing the ship that quickly. She had laid out her repair plans and damn it to hell, she's going to follow through whether he likes it or not. They already had a rough idea of when the ship will be done, but the rest after that is up to the big fella above. Every night, Bulma would say a little prayer for the ship and for them. She prays that by the time they were finished, her little baby would work just fine. And she'd be home in no time!
They had estimated it'd be done and up and running in another seventy days, give or take.
According to her calculations, it couldn't be wrong. In another little over two months, she'd be home free. And Vegeta would be...
'Would be what?'
That thought tugged at the edge of her mind, and Bulma turned to the Saiyan who is about a good three-hundred metres from her in the far distance, vigorously pushing his body over the limits once more. She spread the mat evenly beneath her and settled herself on it, supporting her back upright with a small make-shift recline-able board and a glass of cool ice water in her hand. She watched the Saiyan Prince from behind her sunglasses as she pondered about his blurred future.
Where would he go? Does he have a place in mind already? Will they ever see each other again?
The last thought made her chest suddenly tightened a little and she frowned. Will she ever see him again? She doesn't know. What are his plans when they finally get to leave? She doesn't know. Would she want to know what they are?
Brows fell heavily as she pulled her legs closer. Her eyes never left the swift series of kicks and the perfect punches Vegeta sent his imaginary opponent.
Yes, she wants to know. But in order to do that, she needs to get closer to him, to open him up even if just a little. And what ways are there to open up an arrogant, possibly shell-shocked, closed up Saiyan Prince?
Bulma got up eagerly, composing herself as she stalked warily towards the training fighter with two glasses of refreshing water in hand, somehow knowing he'd want those. She stopped a few feet short from him and bit her inner lip, thinking of words to start up the conversation she had in mind.
On second thought, perhaps she'd go with the flow this time.
Vegeta sensed her behind him but didn't bother to stop his training until he felt her hesitation. He gave her a sideway glance and peered over his left shoulder.
"Rest a little, won't you?" Bulma said with a smile as she offered him a drink, and he finally turned fully to face her.
"Rest is for weaklings such as yourself," he replied smugly, almost snatching the glass from her and downed it eagerly.
"Well, I can't help it. I don't have an insanely sky-scraping power level like you do."
"Five, to be exact," he smirked, jerking his head slightly towards her as he indicated her power level. Bulma took offence and narrowed her baby blue orbs as she felt her blood boil.
She's not THAT weak.
Vegeta didn't miss her heavily heaving chest, knowing full well that he had hit a tender spot. But he remained impassive as he took the remaining glass in her hand, all the while smirking smugly in between gulps.
"Well, then, maybe you can teach me..." Bulma trailed off as she watched him drank and how the water he missed trailed over the perfect contours of his bulging neck as they crept downwards his glistening chest.
"Teach you what, Woman?" he asked her slowly, arching a brow and eyeing her suggestively. He obviously didn't miss the way she was staring at him again. Those distant eyes, clouded with a tinge of something that made him mindlessly lick his bottom lip.
"Teach me how to fight like you," she replied slowly, tilting her head slight to the side. Her icy blue eyes pierced into his ebony coal ones, inching her way closer as they instinctively pulled her in.
"Pfft, you must be joking!" he scoffed, chuckling deeply at her dim-witted request. Clearly, she was out of her mind.
"What, you can't do it? Don't tell me that you can't teach little ol' me even basic fighting skills, you know, to ward off potential dangers," she taunted with a smirk of her own, ignoring his remark.
"Silly girl, don't be mistaken," he returned his own taunt, closing whatever distance they had till their noses almost touched, "You don't have to worry your little head off about me not being able to teach you the basics, but you not being able to learn them well enough to ward off 'potential dangers'."
"Why don't we put that to the test, o' great one?" she lifted her chin and smiled smugly at him, wanting badly to prove that he had greatly underestimated the intelligent and brilliant Bulma Briefs.
"Ahh, so the little human do know her place well," and he pulled his own smug smirk, "... for that, it'll be a pleasure to teach you a thing or two." And he gave her a thorough glance through, up and down.
"Great. Let's get started then."
Vegeta took a few steps back from her, his eyes never left hers. He then swoop his neck to the sides to loosen the tensed flesh. He rolled his shoulders to the front and then back, clamping his shoulder blades together to crack the tight knots. Then, he clenched his hands into fists, popping each and every tight knuckle.
"Rule number one," he said with a smirk, "... there are no rules. You make them as you go."
"What's rule number two?"
"Be silent and focus," of course, he made that one up. "When you're going up against a mugger or a rapist, it's either you die or they do. So choose wisely."
"I'll kill them before they can even touch me!" her anger rose at his statement. She can very well fend for herself!
"Good," he stated proudly, feeling a tinge of accomplishment as he managed to rile the woman up. "Mirror my moves."
Vegeta lowered his stance, both arms bent at a ninety-degree at the waist. Bulma did the same, only not as firmly as he does it. Then, he stepped forward on his right foot and jabbed forcefully with his right arm only to swing his elbow towards the front, seemingly knocking down another imaginary foe. Bulma followed suit, although her punch didn't seem as powerful as his.
"Again!"
After several times of doing the same series, Bulma finally got the first step and they moved on to the left forward leg and left punch. Finally catching up with the force and momentum, the second series was much easier and after a while, she finally managed to string both moves together.
"I know this move, I've seen Goku and Yamcha doing it many times," she stated knowingly as she continued to perfect her moves. "I just didn't bother learning them properly."
"Then, you are a fool." He merely criticised, not missing the names she mentioned but chose to ignore it.
"No, I am not!" Bulma stopped her practice and fumed at him in disbelief, her hands firmly placed at her hips as she glared into his eyes. How dare he call her a fool?
"That is just so typical of you humans – not bothered to be prepared until the dire need to. And then you all just watch yourselves die."
"You're wrong. We're not all like that!" she pouted, her anger at the peak, her chest heaving heavily once more.
"Is it? Is that why you're here on this planet – to revive your dead friends? Hah, tell me that they were well prepared in the year before my coming!"
Bulma lost all control as she plunged forward with a high pitched yell, attacking Vegeta head on. How dare he spew such things? He and his giant friend killed her lover and her friends! He had ordered his comrade to kill those who were closest to her, those she cared about! They killed them! On his orders!
He killed them.
Vegeta saw her attack and allowed her to vent all her frustrations and anger on him as she smacked her puny powerless little fists into his chest. A good way to test her power level but he had greatly underestimated her strength of rage when she mindlessly landed one solid punch on the tender spot just above his beating heart and he inwardly cringed at the pain. That's when he wrapped his bulging biceps around her tiny frame, rendering her helpless, trapping both her arms between their chests.
"Gaaahhh, let go of me, you jerk!" she wailed at him, struggling hard to break free.
"Try breaking away from this one," he smirked into her face as he stared down at her from his nose. Bulma tried her best to wiggle herself out of his grasp, and then struggled some more. One second she exhaled into his face harshly and the next she purposefully put on a frightened expression – eyes suddenly widened with fear.
"Vegeta..." she called softly and frightfully to him. His smirk disappeared, chin slightly lowered and he looked back at her questioningly. "I... I can't move," and his smirk reappeared just as quickly.
"Well, then..." he arched his brow suggestively, "I guess this is the part where you die," his smirk pulled wider into a wicked grin and he dipped in next to her ear, a little too close for comfort.
Bulma eyed his movements warily, waiting for the right time to make her next move. The moment his head was by the side of her face, she pulled back her right leg and forcefully swings it to the front, aiming for the part between his legs – his groin. But being the skilled warrior that he is, Vegeta anticipated such a cheap shot from her and instinctively pressed his thighs together, clamping her by the shin mere inches before it could reach its destination.
"Ah-ah-ah," he goaded disapprovingly, as he pulled back to look into her eyes, "... that isn't very nice."
"What isn't nice is you trapping me like this!"
"A fine way to teach you a lesson in self-defence, Woman," with that said, Bulma merely smirked.
Without a warning, Bulma's trapped hands clutched at the sides of his head and pulled him in, and she brutally crushed her lips against his. Vegeta inhaled sharply, eyes widened with shock and instantly released her but Bulma held him in place, refusing to let him back off. She kissed him long and hard, not giving his state of shock the chance to register what was taking place. But when he finally did and the thought of returning his own lip-crushing kisses seeps into his mind, she let go and he stumbled backwards.
Bulma giggled heartily as she watched Vegeta desperately recomposing himself, an ugly frown formed on his face. He touched his lips with the back of his hand as he glared at her furiously. But his smirk soon returns as he watched her gleeful form.
"Well done," he congratulated her with a nod of approval. "That was... unexpected," he knew that he'd been beat. He had truly underestimated her.
"Make the rules as I go, right?"
That was more of a statement than a question as Bulma turned to walk towards the house. She flipped her shoulder length hair to the back, peering at him over her shoulders. She gave him a wink and a smirk before sauntering back to the cave in triumph, holding her head up high. She swayed her hips as she went without another backward glance and left Vegeta to take in what had just transpired.
"Vulgar little vixen," he muttered under his breath as he watched her go with narrowed eyes before refocusing his mind on training.
That kiss... was no more than just a tactical play on her part to set herself free. There was nothing to it and they both knew it. There were no emotions, no lust, no wanton, no nothing. But it didn't hide the fact that the remnants of her brutal kiss still tingle on his lips – the way her teeth clashed into his and almost tore his inner lip, how hard and rough the contact had been. There wasn't even enough seconds to react before he could fully adjust himself and taste her, giving her a dose of her own medicine. And then, whatever that should ensue from there, he wished not to think about it. And the only way to do that is to keep busy with training.
Yes, training. Need to focus on it. But he knew that it's not going to be easy this time around.
Bulma waltzed into the house and immediately locked herself in the bedroom. She sat by the edge of her bed, her shoulders sagged as her hands cradled one another. Her eyes studied the fine wrinkled lines that formed on her palms but her mind was far from registering them.
It wasn't the first time she had done something so – perverse – to get her way or simply to escape from trouble. She had done it during her adventures with Goku, and too many times that she had already lost count.
So, why does it feel so different this time?
She felt like a part of her soul was sucked out from the shell of her body and she felt a tinge of her self-respect somewhat lost. She felt like a simple-minded cheap whore.
And from that one simple kiss?
She was sure Vegeta wouldn't even consider that a kiss. But his lips – they were so soft, truly a sharp contrast from his hard exterior. She imagined that kiss once more and mentally applied it to a more hot and saucy scenario. Like on top of this bed she's currently sitting on. And her eyes widened with shock.
"Oh, no, no, nooo," Bulma suddenly whined, burying her head into her hands as she shook the images of herself locked in a wild kiss with Vegeta out from her mind.
She sighed deeply.
"This can't be happening. It's not supposed to be like this. Why him? Why? He's a murderer! I can't possibly be attracted to him, can I?"
Bulma looked wide-eyed at her hands once more. Confusion isn't even the word to begin describing what she was feeling inside. She clenched her fingers together as she shuddered and then closed her eyes and swallowed hard, a firm frown on her face. She hung her head low and her hair fell to the sides, covering her face while her little fists were clenched in the sheets. Then she let herself fall to the side and slowly crawl under the covers.
She inhaled sharply and forced her weary mind to sleep.
Yes, sleep. That's what she needs. But she knew that sleep wouldn't be so good this time around.
Evening pretty much loomed over them in a matter of hours and darkness began to roam the land once more.
The blue-headed human has been in her room ever since she left the flame-haired Saiyan to his training and has never ventured out since. Meanwhile, Vegeta intensified his practice two times his normal pace. When the woman left him, he flew off towards the other side of the planet and trained in the mountains, fighting off many of the land's giant creatures. There were only so many imaginary opponents he could visualise, and what's more, the thoughts in his mind at the time weren't contributing much to his workout.
He had to get away.
Stupid woman.
Vegeta returned with bloody scratches all over his arms and legs. His tattered clothes made him look like he's been mauled by a mountain lion ten times over, though he looked pretty much fine. He entered the house and headed straight to the showers, the need to remove all grime and blood was building every second he was out.
The woman was still locked away in her room, seemingly asleep as he sensed her calm ki. At the thought of her, he was once again brought back to the part where she had so brutally planted a kiss against his lips and he fell backwards, leaning onto the bathroom tiles.
So much for getting away.
No female has ever done that to him before. They wouldn't even dare go near him. They wouldn't even look at him the wrong way, in fear it might result them in death.
But this one – Vegeta's eye lids fell, relishing in the hard pressure water spraying onto his face - this one is bold. Too bold. That part was pretty much concluded a month prior. But to touch him like she did? Does she have a death wish?
Stupid woman.
He reopened his eyes and quickly finishes off his bath. He hates thinking of her in boring situations like bathing, sleeping and eating as they tend to eat at him, slowly. Before he emerged, he wore a pair of training shorts which Bulma had given him two weeks ago. She said it belonged to one of the guys, but Vegeta had always suspected it was hers. The shorts were tight but expendable. And it wasn't too short but it easily rides up his bulging thighs. Well, there wasn't much to be done with, anyway. They were running short on materials, clothes and especially food.
Speaking of food...
Vegeta walked out of the bathroom with a towel hung over his shoulders and the first thing he saw was Bulma entering the kitchen and the subject itself managed to pique his interest. She was close to frantic as she searched the cabinets high and low. He assumed it was food that she was seeking for. Then as if his stomach read his thoughts, it growled and his feet automatically brought him to where the woman was.
"It has to be here. I know I saw it somewhere..." Bulma muttered to herself as she climbed onto the kitchen counter top to access the wall cabinets.
Vegeta stood on the other side of the room as he quietly watched her from behind. Her creamy long slender legs stretched as she reaches above her and how her cotton-shorts-clad butt wiggled lightly as she skilfully tip-toed on one leg and let the other hang in the air. Then his eyes travelled upwards to the back of her curvy waist, clad with a tight baby blue spaghetti strap. Let's not mention that with her messily tied ponytail, her tantalising exposed nape teased him, taunting him to taste that part of her skin and it made him mindlessly lick his dry lips.
And he gulped. His natural urges beckoned him to form inappropriate images in his head.
No. Must, have, self, control.
"Where is it?" Bulma muttered some more under her breath as she shifted sideways towards the other row of shelves. This time, they were too high for her to reach, too high for her to even see what contains inside of it. She inwardly cursed the interior designer for putting up stupid designs and made a mental note to fire him when she gets back.
Vegeta floated to her level and stepped lightly on the edge of the kitchen counter, mere inches behind her. Bulma instantly tensed as she felt the air pressure around her being sucked away. Immediately, she gripped onto the rim of the shelf for support and to keep herself from falling backwards and into Vegeta.
He was extremely, extremely too close for comfort.
He planted both hands over her head, trapping her between his bare chest and the cabinet. With what little space she had, she couldn't move and she stared wide-eyed at the bulging arms that entrapped her while her mind spun in spirals.
"What are you looking for?" he asked innocently – in a husky whisper – at her nape, the same tantalising area which enticed him. His eyes never left her side profile and he didn't miss the light shiver her body emitted as his warm breath licked the skin of her neck, sending the same chill downwards her spine.
"T-there is a-a," she gulped, her mind unsettled, her mouth suddenly dry as she tried to string her words together, "a bulk of instant noodles* somewhere."
He blinked once at her and lifted his chin towards the shelf to seek for it. He reached forward with his left hand and immediately found what he was looking for. He reeled it out and handed it to Bulma, and she smiled brightly at the object.
"I knew we still have food left!" she exclaimed gleefully as she snatched them from his hand and held onto the packets like a little girl who got her favourite boy band tickets.
Just as she tried to turn around to thank the alien behind her, his two large hands tenderly clutched at her waist and pulled her into his chest. Very slowly, Vegeta lowered them down but did not immediately move away from her. And neither did Bulma as she finds herself enjoying her back on his chest. But reality soon checked in and she awkwardly pries herself off of him.
"Thanks," she smiled lightly at him before turning towards the kitchen sink with cups of instant noodles in hand, pretending that nothing ever happened.
They both knew the need to eat sparingly was vital. Bulma only brought out three cups of instant noodles and filled them to the brim with water before heating them in the microwave. Much to their luck, the kitchen appliance was as good as being blasted into oblivion.
"No, no, nooo," Bulma whined, "Come on! Don't die on me, dammit!" and she smacked roughly at it, fuming in anger and frustration.
Vegeta's arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned by the counter. He had moved to the other side of the kitchen after she thanked him, though his watchful eyes never left her as she prepares their dinner. He knows a failed contraption when he sees one and the more frustrated the woman becomes, the longer it takes for him to get his food.
At this point, there was only one thing to do.
He got up from his spot and padded towards the woman. Again, he purposely appeared directly behind her and stood an inch from her, keeping her between his body and the counter, just so he could feel the closeness once more. He finds himself enjoying it a little too much for his liking. This time, Bulma didn't tense but was more intrigued as Vegeta lifted a finger and formed a tiny ki ball. He dipped it into the nearest cup and Bulma watched with sheer fascination as the water began to boil.
She smiled brightly once more as he did the same thing to the other two cups.
They sat on opposite sides from one another at the dinner table as they waited for their noodles to be fully cooked.
The clock ticked, their hearts thumped. Silence was a norm for them both as they sat unmoving as if watching the world goes by. Bulma's eyes never left the cup that was placed in front of her, while Vegeta's dark watchful eyes pierced through hers. He watched her face and every muscle that twitches under her skin. Of course, it never went unnoticed to Bulma. She knew he was watching her, and shamelessly doing it too. With every passing second, tension in her grew and she awkwardly squirmed lightly in her chair. But Vegeta's intense gaze was relentless. It frightened her how unmoving he can be and it made her shrink under his glare.
Bulma purposely slid onto the table surface and rested her head on her stretched-out right arm as she faced away from him. Any more intense scrutinising from him, she might just explode from within.
Turning away is a good thing right now.
Two minutes rushed by them and Vegeta still hasn't taken his eyes off of her resting form. She intrigues him, fascinates him and that was all he knew, though he didn't know why or how. The heat and smoke from the two cups Bulma had placed in front of him were quick to dry his eyes. And they were probably fully cooked by now, so Vegeta didn't wait any longer as he began eating the first cup.
Bulma was still rested on the table, unmoving, while Vegeta was almost done with his first cup and she still wouldn't budge to eat.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he muttered under heavy brows as he slurped the last strand of noodle.
Bulma's eyes opened and she slowly sat upright. Her blue orbs appeared shrouded and exhausted. She inhaled sharply as she lifted her hands towards her untouched cup of noodles and Vegeta noticed they were shaking. And strangely, that set him off the edge.
"Why are your hands shaking?" he questioned a little too harshly.
"I s-shiver... when I don't eat after a long period of time," she replied tiredly, slowly taking in her first bite.
And as if all hell broke loose after that statement, Vegeta gave her his second cup and ignored the burning sting on his hand caused by spilled soup, a result from pushing it roughly.
"Take it." he demanded sternly.
"What? No! That's yours, you eat it!" Bulma argued, her eyes widened with surprise. She didn't mean it that way. "You need more food than I do!"
"I said take it, Woman." He glared at her and snarled through his teeth.
"I'm human, you're Saiyan. You need it mor-"
"Just shut up and take it!" He slammed his palm onto the table surface as he boomed into her face.
Bulma instantly clamped her mouth shut as she stared wide-eyed and passively at his hand on the table, shocked into silence. She held her breath, her heart raced when he raised his voice, and it skipped a beat when he slammed his hand forcefully in front of her.
Without another word, he stood up knocking the chair over and stalked out of the house, leaving Bulma in her state of shock.
The moment he was out of the cave, he burst into blue flames and threw himself into the night air. Bulma remained in her state even after he was gone. Fifteen minutes went by before she tentatively releases a sigh and broke down a little.
She felt like he had stabbed a kitchen knife through her heart. She felt the agonising sting from his outburst and her chest tightened a little more.
Why did he have to shout at her? Why did he have to be so damn unreasonable?
She didn't need the extra food. He needs it. She can very well do without the second cup. But not him, he needs it.
Stupid man.
Well, at least that was her reasoning.
Vegeta flew over the barren terrains as he scouts the area below him for any small moving creature he might be able to catch. It was no problem for him to chew down what he catches. 'If you're hungry, eat'. And more is always better than less. That was and has always been his logic and it applies to everything he does. So, when the woman declined his 'gracious' offer, his anger rose to its peak.
Why?
Just because.
She was hungry, that much he knew. But she was really hungry hence it weakens her and causes her to shiver. Which is bad for her and he knew that. But it seems she doesn't.
Stupid woman.
Why did she have to decline, stating that a Saiyan should eat more? He knew that but she said she's human, and humans are weaker than a Saiyan by leaps and bounds. What logic is there that she should refuse food? She needs it more than he does!
He's a Saiyan. He can stand to starve a little more than the average human. He's strong enough. She's human and therefore much weaker than him in strength. She needs it. Not him.
And that was reason enough for him.
Meanwhile, back in the house, an hour flew by and a fuming Bulma lay sprawled on her side of the couch watching dramas on the small pocket television she brought from home.
She was grateful that her mother stacked a few dozens of drama series, ranging from Korean to Japanese, and Spanish to even Hindi. With the amount of continuous dramas in her hands, she couldn't bore herself to death. And for that, she promised herself to allow her mother the patience to learn her cooking once she's home. Just one recipe.
Not even two seconds after that last thought, Vegeta blasted his way into the cave and landed gracefully just right outside the door. He waltzed in casually but stopped as he stared at the woman who was lying on the couch with the noisy contraption in her hands.
This was unusual.
Normally, she wouldn't even be outside in the main hall with that annoying piece of crap.
He narrowed her eyes at her as he settles into his couch. Bulma switched the mini TV shut and moves to return his stare.
"Where'd you go?" she asked softly, almost worried.
"What's it to you?" he replied casually, not really wanting to talk to her about it.
That placed a frown to her face.
"You just got up and took off. What happened?" She stood up and walked towards him with hands on the hips, her question was still somewhat soft-mannered.
"What are you, my father?" He sprang up from his seat to level with her height and though they were almost the same stature, he still managed to loom menacingly over her.
But Bulma didn't care. Nope, not by a long shot.
"You lost your temper and left without a word so don't expect me to just sleep on it!"
"Woman, you're making a big mistake. Don't test my patience. Just shut up and let it go."
"Don't tell me what to do! You know very well we have to stick together as we have so little resources left. And we barely have enough food and you've not eaten that much. What if you-"
"You think that lowly of me – an elite Saiyan warrior – can't stand to starve a little? Just like a pathetically weak human like you?" he cut her off once more and snarled through gritted teeth. She's offended him, she's mocked his strength, and she's mocked him. He clenched his fists in constrained anger, restraining what little control he had left before he decides to punch her in.
"Dammit, Vegeta! Why do you always have to assume that I think of you as weak? I have never thought you weak! Why do you always have to be so stupidly ignorant, so unreasona-"
Vegeta cut her off once more, but not with words. His enraged expression was a tell-tale sign that there was no play in his eyes, just plain fury.
He stormed towards her with speed, forcing her to back into the couch behind and she fell ungracefully into it. Bulma yelped in surprise as he kneed the couch and cornered her, just like he did on the first night. The intimidating man above her planted his hands on both sides of her face and with a pull-back of his right arm and a cry, he slammed his fists into the wall with one solid punch.
[The moment she spewed her last words, a rough hand made contact with Bulma's cheek. Her head snapped to the side and hair fell out of place as they covered her face. She trembled beneath him in constrained shock and anger, and Vegeta released her, backing away two steps from her beaten form.]
Bulma squeezed her eyes shut and cowered under him. For a second, images of him striking her wormed into her mind and she thought he was about to do it again. Another second passed and she bravely peeked at him with one eye, almost relieved that he didn't. But as soon as she recollected herself, she hissed at him and roughly pushed him away.
"What the fuck is your problem?" she screamed into his face, her shaken form on the verge of crying. Not in fear but in frustration.
"Just leave me alone, wench!" Vegeta screamed back, sending deadly glares her way.
"No! Just tell me why. One minute we were fine and then the next you had to disappear! What is wrong?" Bulma pressed him, tears of frustration finally rolled down her cheeks. She needed to know, he owed her that much of explanation. Who does he think he is, harming his own body the way he did?
"Woman, you've been nothing but a burden to me from the very beginning. You know as much as I do that we are in a living hell and I don't plan to stay on like this, especially with the likes of you!"
Bulma choked on his choice of words, her chest tightened as it squeezed painfully at her rapidly beating heart.
"So... don't you think we have to work together? To make sure that we're both alright, that everything else is alright and then we can finally get out of here?" Bulma reasoned softly, her teary eyes pleading with him to cooperate with her.
Silence.
"Then do what you have to do and leave your petty emotions out of it. Just fix the damn spaceship," he stated calmly after a long while of contemplation, though his scowl was still very much proof of his anger. He almost lost control and he almost did what would be deemed regrettable. With that, he turned his back to her, unwilling to face the woman. As annoying as she can be, he never want to see her hurt, never want to hurt her.
No, he wouldn't dare lose it again. He had almost hurt her.
No, not by his hands. She doesn't need that.
He doesn't need that.
Bulma swallowed hard and closed her eyes. She inhaled a staggering breath and exhaled slowly. Then she reopened her teary eyes, but turned away. She didn't want to look at him, not even when his back was to her.
She's a burden to him, he said.
Petty emotions, he had called it.
"Just get out of my sight..." he said impassively and moved to lie on his couch. He faced the wall and shut his eyes tightly, a clear indication that the conversation was over.
* instant noodles – instant ramen noodle snack usually packaged in hard plastic or paper cup that are inexpensive and easy to prepare.
Ahhh, that was a little heartbreaking for me. The ups are always nice, but the downs are downright crappy. Gets you right here – *thumps chest*.
But without them, there will be no story, no drama. And EVERYONE loves dramas, don't they? Yes, they do.
This little exchange between them will eventually lead them to a more exciting episode of their lives on Namek (in the next chapter). There, a little spoiler for you! =D
I assure you, these little fishing games between B and V always bring them closer than before.
Hope you enjoyed this lil piece! Don't forget to revieeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww! XOXO
