Bulma finished off the last drop inside her beer bottle before putting it down near her cell phone. She eyed the phone for a brief moment, tempted to call him. Instead, she sighed and turned back to the sea of capacitors, resistors, and circuitry laid out in front of her in her private lab. This mess of electronics made perfect sense to her. Condensing it all into a new addition to her virtual reality simulator was going to be time consuming due to the amount of work to be done, yet it was very simple in nature to the genius engineer. She could lose herself in her technical work, forget that the rest of the Earth existed and only live for the next improvement that she could make happen.
It made it easy to forget that she was missing Yamcha terribly.
The blue haired heiress was honestly surprised that he hadn't called her yet; it had been an entire month. Even when they had made their angry exchange, in the back of her mind, she had assumed he would call her and beg her for forgiveness. That's just how things worked between them. They fought, he came crawling back, he flattered her enough, she forgave him, they moved on. Clearly, though, this time was different. It seemed that a line had been crossed with her words, or her actions. Maybe both. She wasn't sure where the line had been drawn, or when she had crossed it, but clearly she had, or he would've called by now. Out of sheer pride and dignity, Bulma absolutely refused to be the one to break first and make the first call.
So she worked. Kept her hands and mind busy in a rediscovered, vigorous work ethic. Kept her mind from drifting to Yamcha and how much she wanted to hear and feel him.
Bulma glanced over at the time on her cell phone and sighed. It was already two in the morning and she had been working for eight hours straight with no break except to get a beer from the fridge upstairs. Every employee from Capsule Corporation had long called it a night.
But she was far from tired. In fact, she was craving another beer.
A few minutes later, Bulma opened her fridge and pulled out a new, cold bottle. She walked over to a drawer and opened it, pulling out a bottle opener. As she was putting it on the bottle, she looked up, out the large kitchen window. Instinctively, she frowned at the darkness of her massive backyard. Oh, how she missed the moon and the way it would light up the yard at night.
Bulma narrowed her eyes a bit and looked closer, and suddenly realized that the yard wasn't empty. It was dark out, but in the darkness she could still make out a silhouette that was pitch black on the grass. It wasn't hard to guess who it was, with the flame shaped hair of the silhouette.
What is he doing up at this hour? she wondered curiously. Sure, he had said he couldn't sleep before, but it wasn't like she was rolling around in the sheets with Yamcha these days.
She looked down with a heavy sigh, and flicked off the top of her beer bottle. She figured she'd go and join him. It wasn't like she had anything better to do anyways. Not to mention that deep down, she was aching for some company. Even if it was only his.
Where am I going wrong?
That was the question Vegeta had been pondering for hours on end now. He was sitting outside, crosslegged on the grass, his eyes closed and a brooding look on his face as he searched for the right answer. He had tried to lose himself in his training, tried not to think about it, but the question had been haunting him for a while now.
How was it possible that he was working so hard, and achieving so little? Meanwhile, a Saiyan of third class had easily surpassed him. Here he was, working his ass off every single day, and he could only tell minimal increases in his strength.
He was missing something. He was missing a trigger.
But what? What could he possibly be missing that would take him to the next level?
He was stuck, and it was infuriating.
Bulma observed him curiously as she approached him. Vegeta had his back to her, and was wearing a black collared shirt with blue jeans. His posture was perfect, his back straight up as his forearms rested casually on his knees. She smiled a little when she saw that he was actually wearing some of the clothes they had bought together.
"Go away, woman," he ordered harshly, sensing her without opening his eyes. "I have no time for your foolishness right now."
"Vegeta, I live here. I can sit out here if I want."
Vegeta scowled at her remark but had no retort for that. His scowl only deepened when he heard her sit down on the grass a few feet away from him on his left. He hadn't seen the woman since the day she had coerced him into shopping with her, and he was more than happy about that. Deep down, the prince had been concerned that she was going to read way too much into their kiss and begin to nag him about stupid emotional garbage. Fortunately, that hadn't been the case at all.
Now she was here again though, and his body tensed in anticipation of her usual, stupid, human chit-chat.
But it didn't come.
Finally growing impatient, the prince growled, "What do you want from me now, woman?"
"Nothing. Just saw you out here and thought I'd join you."
"I don't need company," he sneered. "Least of all yours."
"Well, maybe I could use some company," she said, unfazed by his hostile tone.
"Go to your so-called mate and find company with him then," he snapped.
"I would, but we broke up," Bulma admitted, staring at the grass in front of her. Her voice wasn't pained or regretful. She was simply stating the facts. It was the first time she had admitted it out loud, to anyone, and she was a bit surprised by how easily the words rolled off her tongue.
She raised her bottle of beer and took a drink.
Vegeta fell into silence, not bothering to respond to that. Her words were hardly a revelation to him. He had flown over the compound after their kiss and landed on the windowsill to his bedroom where he had snuck in to change out of his clothes and into his workout shorts and gym shoes. When he had flown out the window again, he had heard their end exchange.
Now he just waited in disgust for her to break down into tears like a typical female broken by foolish emotional attachments. The prince was already on edge, and he was sure as hell not in the mood to hear her bitching, moaning, and crying over her fool of a mate. If he even was her true mate. Where he came from, mates were forever, not some whimsical attachment that came and went with the wind.
To his surprise, the tears didn't come. Instead, he felt her move closer to him. Vegeta slowly opened his eyes and looked at her through his peripheral vision, before frowning at what she was offering him.
"What is that?" he asked impatiently.
"Just a beer. I brought you one. Alcoholic beverage," she clarified, in case he didn't know.
"I didn't ask for such a beverage, woman."
"No, you didn't, but you are sitting in my backyard at two in the morning in complete darkness… seems like you could use one."
Vegeta finally turned his head to look over at her. His dark eyes took in the fatigue in her features. Bulma was wearing light blue jeans that were incredibly snug, he noticed, his eyes roaming over them appreciatively. She was barefoot, just like he was. She still had on her white coat from working in her lab, but it was opened and revealed a dark blue tank top underneath. Bulma offered him a smile as his eyes finally settled on the two perspiring glass bottles with bubbling golden liquid in her hands. One was around three quarters full, and the other was full. She was extending the latter to him.
He grunted and reached over to take it. Their fingers touched for a fleeting moment on the perspiring glass, and he immediately pulled the bottle away in response. He turned his gaze forward, away from her. The Saiyan twirled the bottle a little bit, before raising it to have a taste. It tasted fine enough; he took a few large gulps and soon, the bottle was already half-empty. He sighed in content and closed his eyes, relishing in the taste and in the silence of the night.
Until she broke it.
"Do you like it?"
He growled in exasperation. "Woman, if you're going to be here, then just sit there and shut the hell up before I lose my patience and finally kill you." Bulma gave a snort of disbelief, and he shot his dark, hard gaze over to her immediately. "What?"
"You won't," she said simply, stretching out on the grass so she was lying on her right side, facing him. She leaned her head into her hand, propping her elbow on the grass as she laid her bottle of beer on the grass with her other hand. She kept that hand on the top of the bottle, playing with it and rotating the bottom of the bottle along the grass.
"And why is that? Because we shared a kiss?" he asked sarcastically.
She snickered a little, her eyes on her bottle. "You only did that to get back at Yamcha. I'm not an idiot, Vegeta. I know it didn't mean anything to either of us. Like you said, both of our plans worked."
Vegeta stared at her for a few moments, before turning his gaze forward and closing his eyes. He offered a grunt in response and nothing more.
They stayed in silence for minutes on end, their silence only interrupted by one of them occasionally taking a drink from their respective beer bottle.
Vegeta broke the silence first.
"You were wrong with what you said to him, you know."
"What did I say?" Bulma asked absent-mindedly, already knowing who he was referring to.
"You said I have good in my heart. But you're wrong. I am evil as evil gets, woman," he said, falling back into his emotionless and guarded tone.
Bulma shifted her blue eyes from her bottle over to him. She could see his profile perfectly from where she was, and could see his facial features harden, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. She studied him for a few moments.
"You heard that, huh?"
"I hear many things."
"Then hear this, buddy. I meant what I said to Yamcha. I don't believe you're evil anymore. You're different now, Vegeta. It's obvious to anyone who pays attention."
He snorted. "Don't be foolish, woman. I am the same man I have always been. Evil to my very core. Hell, I could massacre everyone on this planet, and sleep well at night. I don't have one redeeming quality in me except my pride."
"Vegeta, if you were truly evil, you would've killed me already sometime during me torturing you with Justin Bieber and forcing you to wear that pink shirt you hate," she said in a light tone, snickering a little. "You wouldn't have caught me after your so-called flying lesson; you would've let me hit the ground and die. You would've never let me take you shopping. You wouldn't put up with my parents, especially my mother. You wouldn't have saved Gohan's life on Namek. Or Krillin's. Honestly, Vegeta. I could go on and on here-"
"Clearly," he mumbled.
She ignored him and continued, "I can see the good in you. Why can't you?"
One of his eyes twitched as he contemplated her words. Clearly, he was giving her the wrong impression. She thought she knew something about him now, but she knew nothing. And she never would. He scowled and took a deep breath.
It was time to set the record straight.
"I will give you this much," he finally said after a moment of thought. "I admired your bravery that day. I humored you, yes, I admit it. I went on the ridiculous trip to get you off my back once and for all. But hear me when I tell you this."
Without opening his eyes, Vegeta raised his left hand towards her, his palm facing her. Her eyes widened when his hand began to glow with a yellow aura as he gathered up energy for a lethal ki blast. The light illuminated both of them immediately as it pulsed from his hand.
"Do not ever get the wrong impression of who I truly am, woman. Your mate was right. I am a murderer and a monster, and your life means absolutely nothing to me," he said in a cold voice. "I could end your life right now, right here, and I wouldn't care in the least."
"So do it then."
His dark eyes immediately shot over to her at the challenge in her voice. Maybe it was the few bottles of beer she had had, or maybe it was the way that her breakup with Yamcha was making her feel, but she felt no fear even though he held the power to end her life within seconds. He saw that lack of fear in her eyes as she maintained eye contact with him.
"Fire away if you're the monster you say you are. You're evil to the core, right? That's what you said, right? So come on then. Do it, Vegeta."
"Don't tempt me," he sneered dangerously.
"So you're evil and a coward to boot? Fancy that."
Vegeta fired.
Bulma yelped and sat up immediately as grass and dirt exploded around her. She covered her head as it all fell around her. There was darkness again as things settled down.
"Next time, I won't miss," he warned. He picked up the bottle of beer and took a drink as Bulma took a deep breath to settle her nerves. He could feel her stare on him, but he just closed his eyes again and ignored her. He figured he had gotten his message across, when her voice cut into his thoughts.
"Well, why did you miss, tough guy?" She was not going to be deterred.
Vegeta released an exasperated hiss through his teeth, now beginning to wish he hadn't missed. "Woman, you are truly trying my patience," he snarled.
"You can say whatever the hell you want, Vegeta," Bulma said evenly, stubbornly settling down into a crosslegged position on the grass as she eyed the hole he had blasted in the ground. It was only centimeters from where her elbow had been resting. She noted with disdain that her beer bottle had tipped over from the ki blast, and the remains had spilled into the grass. She sighed, and looked back up at him. "But I still don't think you're evil."
"You know nothing about me to make any kind of moral judgment," he snapped as he shot her a glare. "You don't know the things I've done in my life, woman."
If you did, you sure as hell wouldn't be here right now, he added silently.
"I don't know everything that you've done, but I do know what you're doing right now. You're helping us with the androids," she responded kindly. "That's all I need to know."
Vegeta rolled his eyes, before sighing in defeat. He couldn't kill her, but it was hardly for the reasons she thought. First and foremost, he needed her technical genius if he was going to have any chance to ascend. Secondly, she was one of Kakarot's closest friends and right now, he wasn't even close to matching the lesser Saiyan in strength. Blowing the woman away would put Kakarot's mercy to the ultimate test, and Vegeta didn't want to do that when he wasn't ready to defeat the younger Saiyan.
And even if he could go blow-for-blow with Kakarot, the woman was giving him actual, bonafide sanctuary. He was safe there at Capsule Corporation, not having to wonder every day whether he was going to live to see the next day like he had practically his entire life. They gave him shelter, they gave him food, and for the most part, they left him in peace to train. Without Bulma, he would have nowhere else to go.
She was right. He couldn't kill her. Not because he had an ounce of good in him, but simply because he was stuck with her. For now.
But that sure as hell didn't mean that Vegeta didn't want to kill her.
They sat in silence for a while longer, and this time she was the one to break it.
"You look good in that shirt, by the way."
Vegeta snorted in response and shook his head, smirking a little against his will. The woman might have been annoying as hell, but she sure had spirit and guts. He had to give her that.
Bulma smiled a little and got up to her feet. "You want another one?"
Vegeta eyed his almost empty beer bottle, before sighing. "Sure. Why not," he muttered, his shoulders slumping a little in defeat as he realized that she was just not going to leave him alone on this night. And if that was the case, then she could at least wait on him.
Bulma shouldn't have been feeling better after having her life nearly ended moments ago, but she couldn't help it. Something about Vegeta just radiated strength, and it was a bit contagious. She walked back across the grass over to him some moments later, holding two new bottles of beer.
The Saiyan Prince was looking up at the dark night sky, studying the Earth constellations, when she rested the side of the cold beer bottle against his shoulder. He snatched it and immediately took a drink. Bulma sat down right where she was, right behind him. The small hairs on the back of his neck stood up a bit with her proximity.
"So why are you out here at this hour anyways?" she asked. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nostrils in annoyance. So much for peace and quiet.
"Thinking."
"About?"
"Things."
Bulma waited for more, but he didn't give any more. She sighed and fell into thought herself, and for the first time in weeks, she wasn't thinking about Yamcha. She was looking at him from behind, wondering what he was thinking about. Vegeta's head was leaned back a little, and she followed his line of sight to the sky. To the stars. She wondered how many of those galaxies he had been to. How many places and civilizations he had conquered during his time with Frieza.
"I'll listen to you, you know."
"Now what the hell are you talking about, human?" he barked out in agitation.
"You've got a lot on your mind."
"Oh really?" he asked mockingly. "Are you a psychic too?"
"I'm just saying, that you're not alone, Vegeta. Everyone needs someone and you're no different."
"I need no one. Attachments are for the weak."
"You're only saying that because you don't have anyone."
"Do you know why that is, woman?" he suddenly asked in a harsh tone as he looked over his shoulder at her. Bulma was startled by the fire burning in his eyes. Below the sudden blaze of rage, she could see clear pain there in the dark depths of his gaze.
"It's because anyone who has ever been close to me has died by my hand or by another's. My mother was murdered by Frieza's henchmen. My father was murdered by Frieza himself. Your precious and noble Kakarot killed my lifelong comrade Raditz. I killed my other lifelong comrade and personal guard, Nappa, like he was trash. I am destined to be alone. And that is FINE with me!" he snarled angrily.
Vegeta then turned back and faced forward, tension gripping his whole body. He took a deep breath and reined his temper in. Bulma tried to say something, but she didn't know what to say to him. His outburst had caught her off guard, and words were failing her now. He wasn't like her circuitry that she could figure out with ease.
Finally, he closed his eyes and breathed out, "Just…go, woman. You got me new garments. You got me a Senzu bean. You owe me nothing now. Your mate might be a weakling but he is no fool. Every word he said about me was true. Believe it."
"No, it wasn't," she immediately countered. "Yamcha doesn't know you."
"And what? You do?" he snapped angrily. "You know nothing about me. Not a goddamn thing."
"You're good at physics. You can pick up languages like they're nothing. You hate the color pink. You like pancakes."
"Well now. You should win a galactic award for that marvelous insight into my personality," he remarked sarcastically.
"You served Frieza since you were a child, and the memories still haunt you," Bulma said gently, watching as he immediately tensed up. He momentarily stopped breathing. She was going into dangerous territory, and he was going to warn her but she continued, "You were clearly attached to your mothe-"
Before Bulma could get the "r" sound out, Vegeta had already gotten up, spun around, grabbed her by the neck and raised her up to her feet. He did it with frightening speed, his dark eyes burning with murderous rage. Bulma yelped a little, her hands on his hand that was squeezing her neck enough to just make his point.
Damn it, crossed the line again, she thought in dismay.
"Congratulations. You're right. I was attached to the queen. And that, right there, is the whole fucking problem, woman," he snarled venomously. "The attachment I had for that bitch is the reason my life turned out the way it has. If it wasn't for the feelings I had for her, I would have died a long fucking time ago with my people, the way I should have, and I would have NEVER been Frieza's!" he screamed in her face.
Bulma realized, too late, that she had definitely crossed the line when she saw tears in his eyes.
"Vegeta…" she gasped, trying to pull his fingers off her neck.
"I killed him! I was four years old and I ripped that lieutenant to fucking pieces for hurting my mother and I was in Frieza's sights ever since! That's the whole goddamn reason the bastard wanted me in the first place! Don't you see, you foolish woman? Don't you see that I can't…"
Vegeta shook his head a little and blinked, as if realizing suddenly where he was and what he was saying. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced his burning tears back, before releasing her. Bulma collapsed to the ground as soon as he did, gasping, one hand going to her throat.
He took a step back, cursing to himself under his breath. He took a deep breath and used his resilient discipline that had served him so well for so many years, and pushed the emotion away. Pushed it away until he felt nothing but numbness.
Vegeta eyed her on her knees before turning around and picking up his beer bottle that was now spilled. He picked it up and twirled the bottle, making the little bit left slosh a bit.
Fucked up with her, again, he thought absent-mindedly as he closed his eyes. He sighed deeply.
Oh well… so be it.
He tilted the bottle back and drank its remains, waiting for her tears to come once again, and the stupid, weak, inevitable guilt that would accompany seeing them. This time though, if she proceeded to ignore him again, he would give in to it. It was high time that they went their own ways anyway.
Vegeta's eyes flew open and he almost spit the beer out when he suddenly felt Bulma hugging him tightly instead, her arms wrapping around his neck. His body immediately tensed up in shock as a wave of confusion ran through him. He had lost his temper with her again… and she was hugging him?
Bulma rested her forehead against the side of his neck.
"Frieza was evil, not you," she whispered. Her warm breath so close to his skin made him break into goosebumps and brought an involuntary shudder through his body. "You were just a little boy, Vegeta. She was your mother. It wasn't your fault."
Vegeta never realized how badly he had always wanted to hear those words until he was actually hearing them. Her words brought on an onslaught of emotions that suddenly and fiercely coursed through his body. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He couldn't do anything; couldn't put any words together to respond, couldn't push her away, could hardly breathe.
His father had ignored him for months after the death of his mother, furious with him for his emotional response for reasons the boy didn't understand until he was older. It wasn't until years later that Frieza told him the cold truth of things to make his point that emotional attachments were for the weak.
His point had been extremely well made.
Now here Bulma was, saying things to him that no one had ever once told him. He closed his eyes and lowered his head a little, not returning her hug, but not pushing her away either. He just accepted this token of affection that no one had shown him since his mother had, so long ago. He inhaled her sweet scent and sighed as his body relaxed.
"You truly have a death wish, don't you, woman," he said, his voice empty and betraying nothing of what he felt.
"You can say whatever you want," Bulma said against him. He swallowed heavily when she relaxed against him, her body practically melting into his. Her soft body against his strong body. Vegeta shuddered again. "But you're not like Frieza, Vegeta."
A muscle flexed near his jaw. Bulma's simple words were more powerful than she would ever know.
Vegeta let her embrace him for minutes it seemed, relishing in the warmth of her body and her scent that he hadn't indulged in for the past month. He had almost forgotten how sweet and rich it was. It kept him rooted to the spot, there, in the darkness. With a frail little woman who had every reason to hate him, but didn't.
Didn't hate him. Didn't fear him.
Oddly, it brought a strange sensation to his chest that he hadn't ever truly experienced:
Peace.
"I don't understand you," he finally admitted in a low voice.
Bulma laughed a little, and Vegeta relaxed even more when he heard the sound.
Is this woman really one of these stupid, weak Earthlings…? he wondered to himself curiously.
"I always stump men, what can I say," she teased as she slowly pulled away from him, bringing her hands down so they were on his shoulders. Bulma looked up at him and gave him the most dazzling smile he had ever seen from her yet. Vegeta was mesmerized by how bright her blue eyes were, and couldn't have looked away if he tried.
Bulma leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He blinked in surprise at that and raised an uncertain eyebrow.
"Thank you."
"For what?" Vegeta asked in a wary voice.
"Helping us with the androids."
The Saiyan sighed. He should have known.
"It's a cha-"
"Yeah, yeah, it's just a challenge, Earth is just pathetic little planet, you're evil and you don't care, and blah blah blah. I can still thank you," she told him, giving him a wink before yawning as she pulled away from him completely. Vegeta finally felt like he could breathe. He took a step back, away from her, but Bulma was already picking up her discarded beer bottle. She turned to him and smiled again, "You staying out here?"
Vegeta just stared at her, trying to figure her out. How could she be so… so nice to him? He had threatened her life twice that night and she was completely unfazed.
"Vegeta?"
He blinked, before frowning.
"Yes, I am. I was enjoying peace and quiet until you arrived, idiot woman," he snapped harshly out of pure instincts. He winced inwardly a bit at his own tone.
"I am not an idiot, Vegeta," she responded firmly, her blue eyes suddenly afire with indignant anger. She placed her free hand on her hip and was going to launch into a huge tirade over how she was the last person he could ever call an idiot, what with her unparalleled genius, when he cut her off before she could.
"Yes, you are an idiot, woman. You are here, alone, with me of all people, in the darkness of night. That qualifies you as an idiot."
"Hmm… I see," she said thoughtfully, her eyes softening with understanding as she looked at him. He was looking at her with such blatant distrust, his dark eyes suspicious and a little confused as he stared back at her. What else could she possibly expect from a man with the past that he had? Had he ever even had a true friend? He hadn't referred to Nappa or Raditz as friends…
But the pain in his eyes that she had caught a glimpse of when he mentioned their deaths said a lot more than his words.
"Well then, if that's your definition of an idiot, then I suppose I am indeed an idiot," she stated calmly. He just scoffed.
"Foolish woman."
"Stubborn Saiyan."
They stared at each other for a long time, both studying the other intently. His dark eyes stared right into hers as he tried to draw out any hint of hidden malice, fear, or hatred. Any sign at all that he could use against her to finally get rid of her. Bulma's blue eyes were strong as she stared back at him, searching his as she tried understanding him.
Vegeta had always had a powerful intuition that served him extremely well when he would go on his missions for Frieza. Nine times out of ten, he could tell a lie when he heard one. He was using every ounce of that intuition now as he studied Bulma for a hint of an end game. She was too nice to him, too understanding… too attractive… he couldn't shake the thought that maybe she was working for someone. Perhaps an old enemy that had (quite successfully) recruited this little woman to get close to him, knowing that circumstances prevented him from killing her. A plot that would only be revealed when she turned her back on him and left him to his death.
He found none of that in the depths of her blue eyes.
Finally, he narrowed his eyes and looked away first.
"Whatever," he muttered.
Bulma just laughed, "I'll bring you another beer so you can relax."
He ignored her as he took a seat again on the grass. He resumed his meditative posture and closed his eyes, shutting her out completely.
What the hell was I thinking about before this demon woman came by? he wondered angrily. Super Saiyan transformation. Yes. That was it. How can I do it? How? What am I missing… if that idiot could do it so easily, then I should damn well be able to do it too. Just have to figure out what I'm missing…
Vegeta reached up and grabbed the new bottle of beer before she put it against his shoulder again. Bulma lingered for a bit, not wanting to really leave, but she was finally starting to genuinely feel tired.
"If you ever want to talk about anything, Vegeta, I'm here to listen," she told him in a kind voice. He scowled but didn't respond. Bulma gave him one last glance and turned around to head back inside. Finally, she had been able to forget about Yamcha for a while, and for that, she was grateful as she closed the kitchen door behind her.
Vegeta finally released a deep breath when he heard the door close. He sat there for a long time, before opening his eyes and looking at the perspiring bottle in his hand. He stared at it, suddenly realizing that he had taken the drink from this woman he didn't fully know and drank it without a moment's hesitation. Just like he had done from the very first time she had offered him a meal after they returned from Namek. It went against his very nature to not scrutinize the contents more after past experiences, and yet he… he actually, genuinely, trusted her enough to know she wouldn't hurt him like that.
Well, I'll be damned… he thought to himself in both disbelief and reluctant acceptance.
The prince then snickered, tilted his head back, and chugged the beer down.