Thanks for all the faves, follows, and a few reviews! Don't forget to check out my other stories if you looooove B/V (who doesn't)?
Disclaimer: You know I don't own these guys or DBZ!
XII.
Boyfriend
As she brushed her turquoise tresses, the Capsule Corps heiress stared at her reflection in the large bedroom vanity. She had to admit—she looked good. If great self-esteem was a crime, she, Bulma Brief, was extraordinarily guilty…guilty, but not apologetic. Dreamily, she set her brush aside and rested her chin on her hands. It seemed, ever since her grown son had returned to the future, she could see him in the mirror just as easily as she could see herself. His resemblance to her was uncanny; however, his resemblance to Vegeta was just as remarkable. He had, without a doubt, inherited the best of both of them. She hoped he was having a good night, or day, or whatever, wherever, whenever he was. Interrupting the beautiful scientist from her motherly thoughts, she spied the reflection of the cross-armed prince, leaning against a wall behind her. Surprised, she spun around in her chair, eyes narrowing. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded indignantly. "You can't come in here anymore, remember? We discussed this."
The Saiyan rolled his eyes. "How long are you going to play this insufferable game?" he growled, teeth clenched.
Bulma blinked. "What game?" she retorted, genuinely confused. "I'm not playing any game!"
"Right," Vegeta countered, tone unabashedly sarcastic.
"Seriously, what are you talking about?" The scientist stood from her chair, now almost eye level with the irritated warrior. There had been many times she wished Vegeta was taller (primarily revolving around the ease with which different sexual positions could be achieved) ; there were an equal amount of times she enjoyed his less-than-tall stature, enabling her to easily get right in his face.
The Saiyan huffed. "I have, on numerous occasions, stated my desire for you. It is humiliating, and I will not do so again." He shifted, suddenly appearing uncharacteristically uncertain. "I realize you are angry with me, as you always are, for whatever stupid reason you've settled on this time, but I do not understand why this occasion has merited an end to all physical relations—especially when you, blunderingly intoxicated, have revealed that you, too, desire me."
Paling, Bulma cleared her throat. "Oh…that game," she muttered, biting her lip and averting eye contact only long enough to adequately fuel her retort. "Well, for your information, your Highness, I am mad at you because you not only acted like an egotistical jerk the whole time you guys fought the andorids and Cell, but also because you were going to let me and your son die! DIE, Vegeta! I don't know how boyfriends acted on planet Vegeta, but on Earth, that is NOT how we do things!"
Face crimson, the prince made a fist. "I do not know what a boyfriend is, but I am quite certain I am not, nor ever will be one," he snarled. "I stayed on Earth to become a Super Saiyan, and destroy the androids-"
"WELL YOU DID THAT," the scientist shouted, eyes suddenly stinging with salt. "You did that, Vegeta, the androids were beaten and you're a freaking Super Saiyan! Congratulations! I guess Trunks and I are just consolation prizes. Not even—usually, people like prizes."
"You never let me finish what I am saying, you irritating woman!" Vegeta snapped, eye twitching. "Yes, that is how it was. I did not care for you, nor the child, and your presence on that day was nothing but one of your typical, irksome distractions."
"Is this you getting to the point?" Bulma snapped, foot tapping. "Because as far as I'm concerned, the hole is just getting deeper-"
"Will you SHUT UP?" The Saiyan punched the wall closest to him, his fist sliding through the plaster and metal as if the walls were melted butter.
Resisting the urge to order him out of the room in her shrillest, most angry voice, Bulma nodded, allowing him to continue. She liked that wallpaper; she had picked it out with great excitement after the last hole the explosive alien had created.
"I said, I did not care for you or Trunks. Surely you are smart enough to gather the context of this without me having to spell it out for you," Vegeta said through his teeth, making an intense effort to lower his racing heart, heavy breathing and overwhelming urge to continue his onslaught of the wall. No one had ever made him angrier than this Earth woman could. Not Frieza, not the androids, not even Kakarot. It was all part of her inexplicable hold over him. The hold, he was realizing (with immense terror), he never wanted her to let go of.
"Spell it out or get out," the heiress said sharply, posture and affect unrelenting.
The Saiyan scoffed. "You have some nerve," he said darkly, approaching her.
His scent was irresistible, and his body seemed to radiate its own gravitational pull. "So I've been told," Bulma replied smoothly, also stepping closer to the warrior.
He reached out a strong hand and placed it on her hip, pulling her to him with ease. His other hand traveled to her opposite hip, untucking the hem of her blouse and sliding under it. "The Prince of All Saiyans takes orders from no one," he breathed, teeth grazing her ear.
"Why, Vegeta, are you trying to seduce me? I think I've been a bad influence on you," the beautiful scientist said coyly, allowing his hands to wander. However, as his fingers felt their way under the wire of her bra, Bulma caught his wrist. "Nice try," she whispered, tongue vengefully tracing the lobe of his ear. "Get out."
Stunned, the Saiyan forcefully retracted his hands. "You aren't serious?"
"Aren't I? Say, 'I love you, Bulma,' or Get. Out." She crossed her arms; it was frightening how good his usual stance looked on her.
"I will say no such thing, ever," Vegeta assured her, fist threatening to greet the wall a second time.
"Then you will also touch no such breasts. Ever." Bulma pointed to her chest and cocked her hip, grin ominous.
"YOU—I—VULGAR—IDIOT—," Unable to find an insult damaging enough for the embarrassment she had caused, the warrior prince did indeed put an additional hole in her quarters (this time, the door) as he stormed out.