"Now Harvey, this is no laughing matter," spoke a gray haired and bearded member of the board. "We'll be losing all our zeni if we give in so willingly to Dr. Brief's inclinations. Lately all he and his daughter concern themselves with is expansion into space exploration efforts. Some of that is necessary to maintain the reputation of Capsule Corp within the scientific community, but at the end of the day we're a business. We sell capsules and weapons. I'll not squander our assets on a gamble. This proposal reeks of Dr. Brief's spawn."
"But she's adamant about this, sir. She'll put her foot down and throw around her influence in their favor."
"As far as we're concerned, she's all bark and no bite. Just some diva galivanting around with daddy's money crying 'chauvinism.' She's got nothing on us."
"We also have to remember what happened in East City. Those freaks levelled the whole thing down and fought off the military effortlessly. While I see your point, I also understand where she's coming from. If such a thing happened again, what would be our defense without having any leverage? Other companies are signing the United Republics Initiative to fund these projects. We can't fall behind."
"Agreed." Vegeta hovered midair outside the open window of the conference hall. The men all gasped collectively in terror when he flew into the room and landed swiftly atop the long mahogany table. "Well put, earthling. Harvey, was it?"
He swallowed nervously. "Uh-um-"
"Nevermind. Don't care."
He surveyed the faces of each of the privileged men in the room disdainfully. They were as cold-blooded as Frieza—above all, businessmen invested only in acquiring more wealth.
"Who the hell are you?!" The older one with a beard cried. He was afraid, but certainly more brazen than the rest of the lot. "Security will remove you if you don't leave instantly!"
"You'll do no such thing if you value your pathetic hides."
"How dare you threaten us?!"
Vegeta grinned menacingly and shot a beam of ki through the center of the table. A waft of smoke rose from the singed wood.
They all cowered away in fear.
"You see that, weakling? I need lift only a finger to do the same to your face. I'm willing to be diplomatic if you just behave. So what will it be?"
The man's eyes widened and he broke out in a sweat. Brazen, but not stupid enough to push more.
"Anyone care to listen, seeing as how I'm the living proof of your inadequacy to fend off intergalactic threats?"
He was met with their silent stares. A pleased chuckle escaped him.
"No objections? Good choice." He smirked, crossing his arms over his plated chest. He had taken great pains to wear his full standard armor at Bulma's insistence. "The first condition is the retrieval of your communication or recording devices. You'll give them all to me. Now."
Not to be told twice, they all hurriedly threw them on the table. He appraised them stoically as they did so, wondering what was taking the woman so long.
"I know what you're wondering. 'Could it be?,' you ask. Yes, I am that intruder directly tied to the crater in East City. That hopefully gives you some idea about what I'm capable of."
"What?!" The one named Harvey pulled at his hair. "We're all going to die!"
"Shut up." Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "I didn't give you permission to speak."
The others beckoned the panicked man to pull himself together.
"Consider yourselves entirely fortunate that this facility holds my interest and that the work of both of the Briefs is essential to me. You see, this woman you have deemed a nuisance had the mind to negotiate terms. She'll provide me with all the necessary means to become stronger and thus defend this mudball from threats. I no longer have the desire to destroy your world. Nevertheless, that could change if you don't make some necessary alterations. You'll be the first to answer if you fail to follow through with my demands."
The men listened attentively.
"If the Briefs are not compensated for their work or fail to complete their progress because of your meddling, I'll know. You will fund them, equipping then with a full staff to aid their efforts. Are we understood?"
"Did she put you up to this?" One of them asked. "That scheming bitch. It was only a matter of time until she screwed us over."
"Obviously, jackass." Bulma sauntered up to the table assuredly, dragging out the tension in the room. "Just to make this a little more painful for you, you'll refer to me by my proper title, Dr. Briefs."
She laughed.
"To think that you plebs actually believed you could have your way when I was gone for a year, daring to sign all kinds of paperwork behind my dad's back." This was the kind of stand-off she'd been fantasizing about for awhile now. She knew her even-tempered father wouldn't approve, but oh well. "This is merely retribution for the complete pain in the ass you've been."
She was dressed in sleek business attire: a black pencil skirt that reached just above her knees, a matching blazer, and a white shirt that hugged her ample bust. Her tousled, blue curls framed her face tastefully and her lips were stained a blood red.
Vegeta supposed she was donning her own armor. He didn't particularly understand the purpose of the high heeled shoes. Nevertheless, he couldn't argue with the results. She looked rather imposing in them and they accentuated her shapely legs.
It was not unattractive.
She smiled devilishly. "Now boys, let's discuss the terms of your surrender and end this little war you've waged."
It then occurred to Vegeta that if it were not for all the procedural and legal maneuvering involved in these negotiations, she would have long ago decimated these fools.
Later that night, there was a knock at his bedroom door.
Vegeta, only just exiting the shower, grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his waist. As he'd come to learn, the culture of this group of humans was squeamish about nudity. Not that he particularly cared.
"What?" He opened the door abruptly, wishing for some quiet after a hard day of training.
Bulma stood in her fuzzy pink robe and a clipboard in hand. Startled, she glanced up from her notes.
She regarded his state of undress and wet hair inquisitively. "Shower, eh? Someone's keeping up."
He rolled his eyes, shifting his weight against the doorframe. "First thing you concern yourself with upon my return to this mudball is my hygiene. Do you object to that now?"
"No," she said slyly, glancing at him in a way he knew could only mean she was about to make some sort of vulgar jest. "I don't object to being greeted by a guy with a glistening, muscular chest. I'm a simple girl."
He looked away, suddenly rethinking his choice of presentation. Usually it meant nothing to the others surrounding him, but here it apparently held great significance in human interaction.
She laughed at his befuddled expression.
"I know you can't help yourself since I'm gorgeous and whatnot, but I'm just teasing so don't go thinking anything inappropriate. Yamcha and I still haven't officially called it quits, even if you think he's useless."
"Tch. Just as ludicrous as ever." He looked up at her from his nose. "If you have nothing but poorly formulated comments for me, then I'll return to my own devices."
He turned on his heel swiftly, offering Bulma a rather nice view of his backside.
It was a shame he was such an asshole.
"Jeez, chill out," she called out. "I came to share the logistics of the upgrade."
He stopped in his tracks. "Is it ready?"
Bulma took that as good as any invitation she'd get and followed him inside.
"I did the calculations so it's theoretically possible to do this thing without you turning into a saiyan pancake."
"Then you can make it happen."
"Theoretically."
"I didn't ask for a maybe. I asked for certainty." He glanced back, sneering haughtily. "Are you admitting your numbers are flimsy?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't insult me. If it's my numbers it'll happen, tough guy. Unless I change my mind."
"We both know you're far too invested in this project now." He chuckled, a faint smirk curling his lip as he reached for another towel from the closet. "You love to stoke the flames of danger just to sate that never ending curiosity. How else are you to cure that chronic boredom?"
He dried his hair with the towel, his biceps flexing languidly. He looked somewhat less severe with the wetness weighing down some of his hair over his forehead. She almost laughed when she noticed that his hair naturally rose up into its customary spikes as soon as it dried. Interestingly, she noted, while most of it was jet black like Goku's, some of the strands had a peculiarly reddish-brown tint under the glare of the light.
Bulma tried — with very little success — not to stare as the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen rippled with his motions. Rivulets of residual water drops glided down his bronze torso and past his navel, disappearing beneath the towel which hung loosely around his hips, precariously close to sliding off.
She's seen many muscular men in her life, but there was something particularly beautiful about his build. It was like witnessing a lion or a jaguar in their prime ― majestic, graceful, and lethal. Even knowing they could rip out your jugular at a moment's notice, you could never tear your eyes away.
She felt her cheeks heat and redirected her attention to her clipboard. "You're hardly one to talk. You do the same for your pride," she retorted after a moment.
"Well we already know all about your pride, Dr. Briefs," he taunted knowingly.
She raised her chin, silently imploring him to dare to mock her further.
He tossed aside his extra towel and sat at the edge of his bed, a look of sudden impatience touching his features. "So you've done your calculations, but I sense you have something more pressing to share. Otherwise I'll have to cut this chat short. Can't give you the impression we're pals now, can we?"
Yep. Asshole. "You know, I take solace in the fact that my creations scorch you on a daily basis."
His brow arched, unamused.
She sighed. "If I'm doing this upgrade, the GR will be out of commission for at least a week or more."
"You work quickly enough. You'll have it finished sooner than that, surely."
"I do have a life, buddy," she huffed.
"At any rate, what am I to do without the training equipment?"
"I dunno. Train without it for now? Goku and Gohan do that."
At the mention of his rival's training regimen, he scowled.
"Hey," she said, waltzing up to him. "Maybe you could take this opportunity to check how far you've come with the training you've already done. After all, you're going to be fighting the androids in normal gravity. Even if you're not a super saiyan yet, you must have quadrupled your potential since you got here."
He crossed his arms indignantly. "Just do what must be done."
"Yes, your majesty. One gravity room with 600gs coming right up. Not groundbreaking science pushing the limits of knowledge and physical constraints or anything."
"Your sarcasm is unnecessary," he remarked seriously.
"Uh, it isn't? It's not like you're asking me to do something simple."
"I'm aware, but I wouldn't have asked you if I were not certain you could. You've proven you're capable of such feats."
Bulma was flattered that he genuinely thought so highly of her abilities and even vocalized it.
"Oh." She played with her pen, unsure what to say. "Well..." Her gaze met his. "I know that you're capable of becoming a super saiyan."
"Hn. No need to get all sentimental." He rose to his feet, his stance dismissive. "I'll be waiting for you to fulfill your end of the deal."
The guy practically mastered the art of brushing off with an air of regality unrivaled by anyone she'd ever met. Partly out of curiosity and partly because nothing pleased her more than pulling the son of a bitch down to earth, she leant towards him and pecked him on the cheek.
"Thanks, Vegeta," she breathed, thrilled by the rattled look on his face. She was surprised by how much excitement it elicited within her. "For today, I mean."
The soft graze of her lips was brief, but he drew away instinctually. "Tch! What are you doing?"
It was too easy.
She giggled. "Did I give you cooties?"
He scowled and rubbed his face, trying to extinguish any trace of her from his skin. "Do all earthlings express their gratitude this way?"
"Nope. Just fucking with you."
"W-what?" He reared back in shock. "How dare you imply something so obscene?!"
"Excuse my earthling vernacular."
"Leave me be, vulgar woman."
"Alright," she sighed dramatically, spinning on her heel. "I guess the fun's over."
She had just reached the door when his voice halted her.
"Wait," he called, the inflection in his voice denoting his dissatisfaction. "Before you depart, I'd like to understand something."
Taken aback, she peered over her shoulder at him. He stood behind her, his hand clenching the door knob and his ebony eyes fixed intently on her. His visage then appeared stone-like, his countenance fully guarded.
"Space travel is not new to your family. Your mother, of all people, informed me that your sister dwells in different planets. She left this one. Yet you remained."
"Yes."
"I was once planet bound, but a life without high stakes or my pride would not be worth living. The illusion of civilization is destroyed with time. The alternative life is your predicament, trapped in a mudball with very little advancements, compartmentalizing my days around some socially constructed schedule, partaking in mundane tasks..."
"So?" She blinked as if in a stupor. This was so unlike their usual interactions.
"So why do all this? How could you bear it? Especially after your own discovery that nothing has permanence. Or can you?"
She'd never thought of earth that way. Of course she was a scientist and she didn't like staying put for long, but at the end of the day it was her home. "I don't know," she finally said. "I've never really had a good answer when it comes to finding balance adventuring." She cupped her chin in thought. "It's strange, but no matter how much Goku or Tights or the rest of us like to head out there for action we get tired too. Even on Namek, it was something I looked forward to seeing again. I guess it's a bit corny, but it has enough meaning to me all on its own. Being home on Earth, that is. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."
"How absurd. Home?" He scoffed, looking away and retreating into himself. "The only meaning I've known all my life is that I'm Prince Vegeta and that I was destined to be a great warrior as my father, the late King Vegeta intended. "
Somehow she felt she'd disappointed him in her response, like he was silently reaching out to her in the only way he could. It almost seemed like he wanted...reassurance? "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Perhaps, then, you'll come up with some compelling argument for why this planet or the millions of others like it are worth this much effort to defend ― why any of this has any meaning. Why...you're earth bound."
Her mouth moved as if to say something else, but all she could muster under his scrutiny was a lame, "Sure. Good night, Vegeta."
He shut the door just as quickly as he had opened it.
And just like that, she was left with the disquieting silence of the hallway, any evidence of their interaction already obscured by the passing minutes.
Bulma remained where she stood, her mind drawing a blank at this mysterious dimension of his character that he had chosen to reveal to her.
Her heart squeezed at the thought of what that could mean.