A/N: Read and enjoy, folks.

Disclaimer: All things associated with Dragon Ball Z belong solely to Akira Toriyama.

Chapter 10: Less Talk, More Action Please

Vegeta heard the door to Bulma's room slam as he slipped in to the kitchen and warily examined his surroundings. Waiting like an open grave, the kitchen gleamed pristinely with the exception of a vase of bulging flowers which lay spilled across the table, water dripping ominously onto the fallen petals on the floor. Something about the tumbled flowers bothered Vegeta, and his eye twitched in irritation as he stalked over to the table to scrutinize the mess. Carefully, he knelt down to gently pluck an orchid from the puddle and brushed his thumb across the pearly petal. Bulma's mother must be lingering around here somewhere, he thought distractedly as he stood with the flower in hand. Glancing one last time at the pooling flowers, he set the orchid on a nearby counter and stalked into the living room, searching out the blonde woman's ki and locating it in the sunroom.

As he entered the glassed-in room, sunlight streaming gold through the air, Vegeta found Bunny delicately watering tiny potted plants with a miniature watering can. Oddly, she didn't look up as he rigidly walked toward her, and Vegeta had to resort to clearing his throat for her to finally look up.

Fixing Vegeta with an uncharacteristically piercing stare, Bunny set the watering can down. "Let me guess. You're here about Bulma," she stated softly as she crossed her arms to mirror his.

Vegeta's stomach leaped into his throat. When did this airhead develop a brain? he thought in irritation as his cover was blown. Without comment he nodded briefly.

Bunny stared at him for a moment before she lifted the watering can again and returned to the plants. "Aren't you two making a garden together? It's all very sweet..." she said softly as she attended to her african violets. Vegeta shifted in agitation, but Bunny was used to his silence as an answer. "I know you don't know much about plants, especially flowers. They're delicate little things, Vegeta. All of them need exact amounts of water, sunlight, and nutrients to flourish." Suddenly she turned, and Vegeta stepped back in alarm at her gaze. "My Bulma is a flower, Vegeta. She's needs a very special man, and I believe you're the one," she said abruptly.

Vegeta stopped breathing in complete bewilderment. What?he thought with wide eyes as he took another step back.

"I know you don't want to believe it, but you can make her happy, and she can make you happy too. I'm well aware that most things go over my head around here," she continued, clutching the can to her chest, "But if there's one thing I know about, it's love."

Vegeta thought to himself that love was indeed probably the only thing this ridiculous woman could comprehend...

"...but now you've really done it, Vegeta," she scolded, putting the can down again and fixing him with a reproachful stare. "Bulma is hurt. That's your fault. I know that you two are obnoxiously stubborn, but you've got to handle this and make her feel better."

"I'm not --" he began.

"Uh-uh, Vegeta. This is on you. If you want her, you have to get her, because my Bulma won't wait around for you to sweep her off her feet, and for that matter, Yamcha isn't going to wait around either."

Vegeta felt like a fist had closed on his heart. "What has that fool got to do with anything?" he hissed menacingly, the tendons in his neck bulging.

Rolling her eyes, Bunny sighed, "Everything. Yamcha has everything to do with it. Bulma doesn't want him the way that she wants you, but sometimes that can be overcome by devotion."

"I'm not following."

"Yamcha loves her, as deeply as he can, and he wants her back. Half of being in love is knowing that the other person would do anything to have you, so if you think about it... he's halfway to winning her already."

Swinging his gaze away from hers, Vegeta glared out on the meadow with clenched fists. That fool... he thought murderously. "Yes, well I'm not talking about love," he spat in distaste, "I'm talking about mating."

Bunny considered him for a moment, curiously staring at his turned back. "Are you?" she asked quietly as she gently touched a flower bud.

Vegeta turned back to wordlessly look at her in consternation.

"Is that what you want? For Bulma to live with you... have sex with you... only for the fun of it? For you to know that at any given moment she might turn around and leave, or that she might be thinking of someone else?"

Vegeta's brow furrowed as her words sank in. He wanted to own the blue-haired woman, to possess the little demon that lurked beneath her blissful facade, to rip the face off that scarred bastard...

As she watched the tiny flicker of emotions pass over his face, Bunny began to smile. "Bulma's in it for love, dear," she said serenely. "And I think you might be too."

Vegeta focused on the older woman and moodily glared at her. There was no way in hell he was going to...

"You don't have to say anything," she coohed, clasping her hands together hopefully, "Just know... that I know. Now all that's left is for Bulma to know."

"Now wait just one --"

"And you think she's going to put out without loving you?" she snapped sassily. "Now come on, we've got work to do," she said lightly, flouncing up to him happily and snagging him by the arm. "I will have grandchildren one day, and I'd rather it be before I'm in a wheelchair."

"You're insane," he said with a blush as she dragged him down the hallway.

"You have no idea, dear."

**

Yamcha fidgeted with his collar as he leaped down to the lab doorstep with flowers in hand. Daisies were her favorite, if he could remember correctly, but he figured flowers in general would be a nice enough gesture to grease the wheels a bit. Raising his hand to knock on the door, Yamcha was surprised when the door swung back to reveal her father instead.

"Something you need, boy?" Dr. Briefs asked politely, eyeing the flowers in Yamcha's hand and his ironed button-down shirt.

"Ah, yeah -- Is Bulma here?" Yamcha asked, suddenly nervous for a reason he couldn't identify.

"She's working, working away," Dr. Briefs said with uncharacteristic testiness. "I can give those to her if you'd like," he continued, nodding at the flowers and fixing Yamcha with a steely gaze that was nothing less than terrifying from the little man.

"Uh, I wanted to give them to her mys..." he trailed off at the irritation on the old man's face. "Sure, if you could take these? Um, if you could tell her --"

"Alright then. Be sure to get some cookies from Bunny on your way out. She always has extras," Dr. Briefs said bluntly, and then snapped the door closed on Yamcha's stunned face.

Standing there in confusion for a moment, Yamcha scratched his head distractedly. What the hell just happened? He and Dr. Briefs had always been on good terms, but this afternoon he was just...

"Yoo-hoo!" Bunny called from the kitchen door. "I thought that was you, Yamcha!"

Yamcha turned around with his goofy smile and walked to her. "Yeah, I was just here to see B, but she must be really busy, because your husband --"

"Ah yes, they're working on some upgrades for sweet Vegeta's gravity room," she said blithely, cutting into his words. "Would you like some double-chocolate cookies? I've just made a batch and I have some I won't be using..."

Somehow, her invitation felt like an insult, but Yamcha brushed it off. "Sure, that'd be great..."

With a smile, Bunny turned and led him into the house. "I'll make you up a little to-go bag. The rest of these are for tonight..."

Yamcha gazed in amazement at the massive stacks of sweets littering the counter, from cookies to brownies to cakes in the middle of being iced. "What's going on tonight?" he asked incredulously as she plopped a few cookies into a crisp, white bag and smoothed the crease. "I'm just having a little garden party for my friends. Nothing big," she said with an eerie smile.

"Ah..." he said with a frown as she handed him the bag and began to shoo him out the door again.

"Now it's so nice to see you, but we've got tons of preparations to do..."

Suddenly something clicked in Yamcha's head as he reached the door, and his hand shot out to grasp the door frame as he stopped moving.

"What's Bulma doing again?" he asked abruptly. "I think I'd like to talk to her now."

Bunny's cheek twitched as he turned his head to look at her. "She asked for no visitors today. Apparently there's a mathematic problem that's more important than the decorations for the party," she said with a pout.

Yamcha surveyed her quietly. Something was off today, and he couldn't figure it out, but two could play this game. "That's fine," he replied smoothly, "So is this party going to be huge?"

Bunny's face brightened, and she began to shoo him out again. "Yes! It'll be grand. We're celebrating the delights of picnics at this one, and all my wonderful friends will be here..."

Yamcha calculated that by Bunny's standards that could be anywhere from fifty to three hundred people. "I see. Well good, I'll get to talk to Bulma then. Thanks for the cookies!" he said as he blasted off the doorstep into the air before she could reply.

"No -- it's not--" she yelled after him, but knew it was no use. "Fiddlesticks," she muttered as she watched Yamcha fly away. "That boy will do anything for her..."

Meanwhile, Dr. Briefs walked from his lab to Bulma's with flowers in his hand. "Sweetie?" he called out to the massive room that housed their largest endeavors. He heard her reply among the rows of supplies, and he walked toward it. "Someone dropped flowers off to you, but he didn't want to talk to you about it," he said easily as he set them on one of the vacant desks.

"No way! Who..." she replied, stopping as she only considered two candidates.

"Well I said I wouldn't tell. He was quite sorry for that little spat you had earlier, but he doesn't want you to know he sent them. Quite flustered, that boy," he continued as he walked to the door again to leave his daughter alone. "Who knew that Vegeta would ever send you flowers?"

Bulma stood in amazed silence as the door clicked behind her father.

**

"What the hell is going on?" Bulma yelled as she stomped into the kitchen where her mother sat putting the finishing touches on her sugar flowers. "I've had two designers come in to ask me about decorations, four chefs come to make me sample their "best courses," a bouquet of flowers sent to me anonymously, and you're in here baking away like a possessed cook!"

Icing in one hand and spun sugar in the other, Bunny beamed up at her daughter from atop her stool. "Why, a party, of course!" she replied happily. "A surprise party -- I just planned it today and you're going to love it. It's picnic themed!"

Bulma stared mutely at her mother as a metaphorical storm cloud began to brew above her head. "What... are... you... doing...?" Bulma said lowly, grasping the counter with her creamy hands.

Bunny blinked up at her daughter innocently. "You know how much I love a good party, dear, and I figured that after that little row you had with Vegeta you could use some cheering up. Is that so wrong?"

Narrowing her eyes at the bubbly blonde, Bulma slowly replied, "Don't think I underestimate you, Mom. I'm watching you."

"Fabulous! Then what do you think of this dress?" Bunny said excitedly, throwing her frilly apron aside to reveal a blindingly yellow dress.

With a snort, Bulma turned around and left the room to brood in her own abode.

"Oh, and Paulo's upstairs to help you get ready!"

Bulma froze in the hallway. ...This was serious.

Leaping down the hall and bounding up the stairs, Bulma flew into her room to find racks and racks of dresses strewn about the room and Paulo standing before her with a devious smile on his face. With a laugh, he moved forward to kiss her on the cheeks. "Don't be so surprised, doll," he said happily, "We can't do everything on our own." Bulma stared into his affectionate face, and at his words, broke down bawling in his arms. "There there, dear," he coohed as he held her and rubbed her back, "I know how it is. These men and their careless words and their finicky ways... They're just terrible," he sighed, laying his chin atop her head. Bulma weeped against his chest and hugged him tightly as he led her to her bed and sat down with her.

"I just -- I just don't know why -- he has to be so mean," she hiccuped, covering her face with her hands.

"I know, I know..."

"I mean, he's had it so hard, and he tries so hard, it makes me sad, but he makes me happy when he's not sad -- and that's all it takes," she wailed incoherently.

Paulo raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow as he continued to rub her back. "Looks like the little princess might be in love," he said matter-of-factly.

Hiccuping one last time, Bulma raised her head to look at her loyal friend and stylist. "Do you think so?" she whispered as tears leaked out of her eyes.

"Oh honey, that's not for me to figure out," he said warmly, "But I can tell you that you never were so selfless with Yamcha. Sounds to me like you've got it bad..."

Bulma sniffled. "Yeah, I guess so, but he doesn't want me for me," she said sadly, "He just wants me for my equipment."

"I can't tell if you're making a dirty joke or not," he laughed, and Bulma replied with a weak chuckle of her own. "You know," he continued, "I didn't see too much of you two at the last party, but I think I saw enough to tell you that he wants you quite badly. There aren't many men like that, darling, but when one comes by you've got to snag him up..." He looked down on her fondly. "...If only for the sex."

"Paulo!" she cried, grabbing a pillow and smacking him lightly on the arm. "You're terrible!"

"Sad but true. Let's get you ready to command and conquer," he replied with a jolly laugh. "You've got a man to win."

"Correction: he's got a woman to win," she bantered as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"It's all the same to me, honey. To the Versace!" he cried.

Two hours, one bubble bath, and one Valentino dress later, Bulma sat before the vanity as Paulo's makeup artist dusted rosy blush across her cheeks. "Staying with today's theme, we're going with the natural look tonight," Paulo said affectionately as he fingered the single strap of her lavender dress and tousled her blue waves which he had curled to look like a turn-of-the-century hollywood movie star. "Now I'm giving you some beautiful flats so this look can be a little more casual, but there's no way to take the glam out of this baby."

Glancing into the mirror at her dress, Bulma noted the shortness of the dress and stuck her hands in the nearly-invisible pockets. She would look effortless and modest, with a hint of sexuality in the bare shoulder and the length of creamy thigh beneath. "You make me happy," she sighed with a gleaming smile to Paulo.

"Of course, but it's not you we're trying to make happy. It's that man-hunk you're after. Now here are some fabulous gold bangles, and these --" he bent to her ears and popped two huge pearl droplets in each, "Will finish the look off perfectly. Any questions?" he asked as he watched her lips being painted with a barely-there pink.

Bulma winked, and Paulo set off to Vegeta's room with a smile. "Just going to check up on your mother!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Vegeta himself waited for Paulo uncomfortably as he surveyed his attire in the mirror -- something he was loathe to do in general. He had begrudgingly let Paulo choose a shirt for him, and he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he glared at the mint green button down. Bunny had declared him to look roguishly tan and dangerous against the hue, but all Vegeta could think of was how it reminded him of Zarbon in an odd way. Oh well.

"Oh. My. Gosh." Paulo gasped as he entered and saw Vegeta. With a twitch of his eye, the prince turned to glare at the intruder. "That khaki and mint together just take that outfit to a whole new level!"

"It's not an outfit," Vegeta grumbled as he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, "It's clothing."

"Whatever you say, honey, but go ahead and --" Paulo reached up to Vegeta's throat but the Saiyan swatted him away.

"I can do that myself," he muttered as he unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal enough bronze muscle and tanned skin to keep a woman salivating but still guessing. "When does this shit start?"

"You can go downstairs now if you'd like, but you should stay out of sight until it all gets going. That's what Bunny says, anyway," Paulo sighed wistfully, hating to let the beautiful specimen out of his sight.

"Tell the blonde I'll be back at sundown," he said gruffly, and with that he shoved past the stylist to flee to the world below.

Paulo smiled and fanned his cheeks. "Whew. Will do, darling... Somebody get me a napkin..."

A/N: Review review review!!!