Chapter: 4 \\ boo hoo bad
Author: Flotilla
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Characters may be OOC. Now read and review, Flotilla commands you! Tierce tierce tierce, excellent beta-reader, studyer of dictionaries, criticizer of sentence structure, I pay my tribute. ::bows humbly::
***
"I should get back." Vegeta decided all of a sudden and surveyed the damage round him. Shrugging, he powered up and flew off into the night sky.
"Where is he?" Bulma asked impatiently while stabbing at a piece of steamed broccoli casserole with her fork. It was an uncommon late dinnertime and now exactly three past ten. The Saiyan had not returned and Bulma was doing her best to hide her concern under irritance.
Mrs. Briefs looked around the large kitchen, another large plate of oven-fresh casserole in her hands. "Oh I don't know dear. Maybe he's late."
Bulma scoffed. "Vegeta late for dinner? Not likely mom. That Saiyan knows dinnertime like the back of his hand."
"Your father's not here either." Mrs. Briefs noted as she helped herself to some piping hot casserole and a glass of iced tea.
"At least he's doing something productive, like studying some new blueprints for flaws. Vegeta's probably playing a little game of 'blow-them-to-pieces.'" The blue-haired woman grumbled and took a swallow of some fiery hot cherry mead. "Gak, this stuff burns," she wheezed, waving a hand in the air to emphasize how hard it was to take even a sip of the stuff.
The two Briefs women continued their meal in a somewhat uncomfortable silence, briefly pausing every now and then to pass around dishes, napkins, of the sort. It was then the kitchen door swung open and a tired Saiyan hobbled in with a frown and half-closed eyes, his energy low and ready to give out on him any second now.
Mrs. Briefs who had just finished got right up and practically shoved Vegeta into a chair, as she began loading up a large platter with casserole, turkey, mashed potatoes, roast beef and the sort. She poured a giant pitcher of water for the Saiyan and he began eating everything in sight, quickly. A large serving spoon had been bought for his use, and food no matter what it was shoved themselves onto the spoon and into Vegeta's waiting mouth. It seemed like he would eat messily as did Goku, but in fact Vegeta ate very regally, his manners refined.
Bulma watched on, amazed at how low the metabolism of the Saiya-jin were. Not a single unwanted pound… "For Dende's sake, Vege-san, where does all that food go?"
"Training." He grunted shortly, his eyes focused on the food before him.
She was surprised at the lack of sarcasm or bite in his tone but decided he must have overexerted himself. She made a mental reminder to stick some bubble bath in his private washroom tomorrow morning, pink perhaps to annoy him. Kami knew he needed to relax although she found it highly amusing to imagine the Saiyan's perplexed reaction and his prompt fury at the result of his experimentation with pouring the whole bottle into the tub. That was, if he took a bath not using the shower, as he probably did. Saiyans were brisk, Bulma concluded.
Five minutes later, the Saiyajin cleared all the food off the table, including yet another prized cherry pie Mrs. Briefs had baked only forty-five minutes ago. Bulma opened her mouth to criticize him but suddenly noticed the hollows under his eyes, the tired manner in which he carried himself, and swallowed her thoughts.
Vegeta got up and walked up the stairs, his eyes half-opened.
"Whoa," Bulma whispered. The Saiyin NEVER walked to his room, he always FLEW. Something must have been bothering the moody Saiyan badly. And as was curiousity being a natural quality of women, Bulma was determined to find out.
"Dende knows how much I worry about you," she sighed and was about to leave to get ready for a good night's worth of sleep.
"Oh Bulma?"
"Yes mom?"
"I was thinking… maybe we should have an Independence day celebration? After all, it's only a week away from today." Mrs. Briefs suggested. "Perhaps your father may even secure a fireworks permit."
Bulma tapped her chin thoughtfully and then became excited again. "OOH! With a barbecue, and fireworks, oh my Dende, mom you are the greatest!" She praised and went over and hugged her mother tightly. "I can hardly wait! And it can be an office party also, so the employees won't feel so tedious!"
"I'll start making preparations Bulma dear- I suggest you go up and see if that poor man needs anything. He looked so tired.." Mrs. Briefs hinted.
"Don't worry mom, I'm going to." Bulma promised. "Good night mom."
"G'night dearie."
Bulma smiled and went up the stairs. She stopped in front of Vegeta's door and hesitated for a bit before knocking. There was no reply, no cutting remark from the normally snippy Saiyan. She grimaced. Something must be wrong.
She placed a hand on the doorknob and swung the door open.