Not Who She Expected

Chapter Seven: Rough Waters

Disclaimer: Characters and settings are the property of Akira Toriyama, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit romance.


Bulma tossed her crop-top in the closet with an irritated humph. She didn't know what she'd been thinking when she pulled it out of her drawer. She was trying to keep her -thing- with Vegeta secret so why had she grabbed a shirt that was practically designed to frame and display the hand shaped bruises on her waist?

Bulma snickered at the memory of how she'd gotten those marks; that little maneuver had certainly caught him by surprise. She remembered the pleasured gasp and the look of open startlement shattering Vegeta's mask for a few moments, his hands spasming on her waist for a fraction of a second until he regained control. It was a major accomplishment to get even a second of openness out of Vegeta.

Bulma sighed dreamily. When Vegeta touched her she could feel how careful he was, how much he restrained his overwhelming strength. Her fingers brushed past the bruises, even when she had broken his control slightly he was still careful of her, there were deep grooves in the metal frame of the bunk now from Vegeta grabbing it so he wouldn't grab her at times. Feeling that much care in his touch made her feel loved.

And then there was reality.

Bulma grimaced. Reality was Vegeta was that careful because he had to be, if he were any less careful he'd kill her. Bulma had heard about Goku knocking Chichi through a wall in an innocent moment of carelessness. Chichi hadn't been happy but apart from a few bumps and bruises she'd been unharmed by the incident. Chich was a fighter, she'd been a Tenkaichi Budoukai semi-finalist when she was younger. Bulma figured that the difference between her own strength and Chichi's was comparable to the difference between Yamcha's strength and Piccolo's. If Bulma had been the one knocked through a wall she'd need a hospital, not a few bandages.

Vegeta's delicate handling of her didn't mean he loved her; just that he still had use for her.

Bulma pulled on another shirt.

She didn't want to fool herself. She tried not to read more into Vegeta's actions than was there but it was hard sometimes. Sometimes she wanted to believe he really felt something for her but considering everything she knew about Vegeta that seemed like a huge risk. She didn't want to get her heart broken if he turned out to be incapable of love.


Several weeks after Bulma and Vegeta's relationship began Bulma attended a conference on advanced materials.

Bulma thumbed through her notes as she walked out of the symposium. None of it was anywhere near advanced enough to solve her problems. Even if she'd had access to cutting edge military research it still wouldn't be advanced enough to cope with a Saiyan determined to smash through all limits.

She paused under a street lamp. 'But there were some good ideas here. Some ultra-resilient materials she hadn't heard of before. Fresh view points to kick-start her own thinking and get the GR over the 500 G hump before Vegeta got too impatient.

Without really thinking about it Bulma noted that the crowds streaming out of the lecture hall made it unsafe for her to deploy a capsule there. She turned down an alley still reading her notes.

She was already using a honeycomb design for reinforcing the GR but this bit about honeycombs within honeycombs down to the molecular level, that was an idea. It was just a theory in the other scientist's paper, but she felt sure she could turn that theory into reality.

Bulma kept walking for several minutes before it occurred to her that she was alone. She tucked her notes under one arm while she dug out her box of capsules.

As soon as she had them they were slapped out of her hand. For a moment Bulma's gaze followed the shiny little box as it skittered away across the dirty pavement then she turned on the man who'd struck her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bulma demanded planting her fists on her hips and glaring in a way that would have had all the Z-fighters cringing and looking for cover.

The man just chuckled darkly. "Pretty, rich girl all by herself in the wrong neighborhood. What do you think I'm doing? ...I'd say: whatever I want to do."

Bulma dropped her papers and crouched slightly. "I'll have you know I've faced off against guys that would make you wet your pants and I'm still here." Bulma didn't mention that was because her insanely powerful martial artist friends generally intervened on her behalf.

"Oooh, I'm scared of the little girl," the man laughed and reached for Bulma.

She kicked him in the nuts and turned to run. The man collapsed to his knees but he lunged forward and caught her ankle. He yanked and Bulma fell. The rough asphalt ripped into her hands as she caught herself. The man started dragging her back to him. "You're gonna regret doing that," he snarled.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," a cold voice informed the man.

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered. Relief left her feeling weak.

The man drew a gun, "You still wanna play hero?" he asked.

"I suppose you want me to assume you can use that ridiculous thing," Vegeta remarked. He sounded bored.

One on top of the other the gun barked, Vegeta's hand blurred into invisibility and Bulma screamed.

Vegeta glanced at the bullet between his fingers with mild amusement. "So you can operate it. You can even aim. And it still does you no good what so ever." He flicked the bullet back at the man. There was a moment of dead silence in the alley. A thick ribbon of blood slowly ran across the bridge of the man's nose then down his face.

The sound of his body hitting the pavement seemed unnaturally loud to Bulma. She stared at Vegeta. She saw traces of amusement mixed with irritation in the set of his mouth but his eyes were void of anything. Bulma shivered. From the look in Vegeta's eyes killing a person meant less to him than killing an insect meant to her.

"Will your authorities care about this trash?" Vegeta asked.

Bulma's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She scuttled backwards away from Vegeta. None of the others would have killed an enemy who was so vastly outclassed. Vegeta hadn't even considered the possibility of resolving the matter without a fatality.

"Woman! I'm not in the mood to decimate your police forces," Vegeta snapped. "Should I bother to dispose of the body or not?"

Bulma cringed. "You killed him with a bullet from his own gun," she said in a flat, lifeless voice. "They'll think it was a ricochet."

Vegeta nodded and turned away. "Well? Shouldn't you be deploying one of your vehicles?" he said. "It would be an annoyance to rescue you from your own stupidity twice in one night."

Bulma scrambled after the capsule case she'd dropped. Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped the case as she tried to open it.

Vegeta caught it before it could hit the ground, even though he'd been at the other end of the alley a moment earlier. "You really are hopelessly inept tonight," he said.

Bulma blinked up at him in confusion.

Vegeta sighed. He tucked the capsule case back into Bulma's bag then picked her up and flew back to Capsule Corps.