Written for the Blue and Black – A Bulma and Vegeta Community at Livejournal, where it won third place. Prompt: Brush – 200 words. Originally posted on March 30th 2011.
Enjoy!
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"You are going to love this, trust me."
Bulma giggled, while she tied Chagall's reigns onto a tree. Ignoring the anxious twitching of his small ears, she rummaged through her bag, until she found the curry comb, which she proudly presented to her companion. Taking his snuffle as a sign of approval, she began to groom her little friend.
If Bulma was entirely honest with herself, she did this not only to show Chagall her gratitude for him saving her, but also because she longed to touch and explore his black coat ever since she met him in the stables three days ago.
As Bulma brushed the sand and dirt out of his fur, she relished its smoothness. It was almost like black silk, so soft and lordly. Soon enough, the curry comb lay forgotten on the ground, while Bulma's hands skimmed through his coat. There was nothing she hated more than the cold, but his wiry body provided more warmth than she could ask for.
"You know what, Chagall? I wish there were men like you. With great hair, a muscular body and who are smart and brave to boot!"
Chagall answered her in his own way: With droppings.
