~*~ Disclaimer: I do not own the movie 'Pretty Woman' or DB/Z/GT. Please
don't sue, I ain't making jack shit from this story. It is being writing
only to pass time and for the entertainment of my readers. (Which isn't
many) 0_o
Thanks to all of my reviews. Keep them coming!
Ok I know that I've been gone from FF.Net for a while, but that's because I had a writer's block. Actually a really really big one! Haha. Well I hope that you like this chapter. It took meeh long enough to write that's for sure. Well remember to R&R, who knows I might be back sooner that waii....
Happy reading!
~LadyB
That afternoon Kakkarot was still behind his desk, working when a soft voice startled him. "Goku..."
Kakkarot arched an eyebrow as he looked down at Bulma. How had she come up with that nickname? Kakkarot rather not ask. Bulma still hadn't changed and that was a bigger priority. "What is it, Miss Bulma?"
Bulma shuffled her feet, then looked down at them. "Vegeta is taking me to some fancy place for dinner, you know, The Rex. Ever been there?"
Kakkarot shook his head. "It's a bit beyond my...range, shall we say."
Bulma smiled back at Kakkarot. "Yeah, mine too. Is it like, you know, normal?"
"I think you'll find it normal enough." Kakkarot replied.
Bulma was curious. "Will I like it?" She asked looking down at her feet.
Kakkarot nodded. "You'll like it fine."
Bulma sighed heavily, as if in relief. "Okay. Thanks, Goku, you're the best."
Once again with her head back in the clouds, Bulma turned to walk away and back to her room to get dressed for the night.
Kakkarot watched as she walked away, a bounce in her step. "Just mind which fork you use." He called after her, the thought hitting him.
Bulma turns abruptly back, a horrified look on her face. "Which f-fork?"
Later that day Bulma sat at an elegant formal dinning room complete with a myriad of different sized forks, spoons, stacked china plates and crystal glassware. She looked startled at all of the utensils on the table, she turned to Kakkarot. They sat across from one another, looking eye to eye.
Kakkarot cleared his throat. "In fifteen minutes I can teach you everything you need to know to dine with the Queen. First, as you pick up the knife you shift your fork to the left hand.
"But I always eat like this." Bulma stated as she took the fork into her right hand and didn't even bother with the knife.
Kakkarot shook his head. "Either you're European or badly brought up.
"Hmmm... I vonder vich." Bulma giggled at her own accent as she dangled her hand over the forks, wondering with one to take in her hand.
"Actually, some of the richest people I know have the worst manners. Of course, Prince Vegeta, being of old money, knows his way around a table. All right now, pay attention please. Salad fork." Kakkarot said taking a small fork into his hand.
Bulma was slightly confused. "What if they serve soup?"
"They will serve salad." Kakkarot reassured.
Bulma still wasn't convinced. "But what if they serve soup?"
Kakkarot shook his head. "Then you use your soupspoon."
Bulma smiled at Kakkarot. "I like steak." She stated randomly.
Kakkarot, trying to ignore the randomness in Bulma's character, picked up the appropriate utensil. "Then you would use your--"
A large, childish grin made it's way across Bulma's lips. "Steak spoon!" Bulma laughed out loud.
Kakkarot swallowed his exasperation well and tried to continue on instructing Bulma in the edict of table manners. "Bulma--"
Bulma placed her hand under her chin and rested her elbows on the table. "Maybe I'll just order a burger, Goku, that way I can eat with my hands." She joked.
It was visible in Kakkarot's eyes that he was mortified at the idea. Bulma's smile widened. "Miss Bulma...there's a salon here in the Estate. Instead of worrying unnecessarily about table manners, why don't you just have your hair done instead?"
Bulma's eyes lit up happily. "Professionally?"
Kakkarot got up. "Of course."
Bulma sat in a salon chair as the worker Thane, a young man of about twenty with his long hair pulled back in a pony tail, tilted her head one way and then another, eyeing Bulma professionally.
"You know Thane, I have a friend who has a friend who does Cher's wigs."
Thane's eyes narrowed. "I hate him already. All set?" He asked Bulma turning her to face him once more.
Bulma smiled. "Yeah... what a ya say we chop it all off and bleach the tips."
Thane shook his head in disapproval. "Darling? Trust me when it comes to this. That is not the way for you to go."
Bulma smiled brightly. "Oh Thane you know I was just kidding." She giggled.
He grinned down on her and then tilted her head back in order to shampoo her azure locks of hair.
Vegeta entered the lobby and then looked around the room. He saw rich red velvet couches, crystal lights, and extravagantly dressed women. However there was still no sight of Bulma. Vegeta crossed his hands over his chest, he was growing annoyed with the woman as every minute ticked by. Vegeta crossed the lobby to a house phone and picked it up. He was just about ready to dial when "Good evening, Prince Vegeta."
Vegeta turned to face a much taller Saiyajin man; Vegeta looked at him blankly with his deep ebony eyes.
Kakkarot extended his hand to Vegeta. "I am Kakkarot, sir, the manager of the Estate."
Vegeta rose and eyebrow, however accepted Kakkarot's hand. "Of course, hai. If you'll excuse me just a moment--"
Kakkarot cut him off, even though he knew the price for cutting off a prince was high. "I have a message for you from your 'niece' sir."
Vegeta was about to yell at Kakkarot but was stopped once hearing about his 'niece'. "My what?" Vegeta demanded.
"The young lady staying in your room?" Kakkarot tired, with hope in his voice.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. He hung up the phone rather angrily. "I think we both know she's not my niece."
Kakkarot looked uncomfortable at this statement.
Vegeta eyed Kakkarot up. "Does this Estate have any problem with that?"
"Prince Vegeta, a guest of yours, is a guest of ours and shall be treated accordingly. The young lady asked me to tell you that she is waiting for you in the lounge." Kakkarot replied.
"Arigatou." Vegeta began walking towards the lounge.
Kakkarot watched his prince go. "Very intriguing young woman, Miss Bulma."
His tone managed to stop Vegeta in his tracks.
"Have a good evening, sir." Kakkarot said respectfully.
Vegeta then decided that whatever Kakkarot said had not been of his importance. Vegeta watched as Kakkarot left, leaving Vegeta to wonder what the hell transpired during the afternoon.
Vegeta entered the lounge a few minutes later. He looked around the lounge this time, not seeing Bulma anywhere in the path of his sight. His eyes passed a young girl, they passed an old man, and then suddenly his eyes went back to the beautiful girl with the beautifully styled hair in the beautiful black cocktail dress at the piano bar. Vegeta tried to hide his surprise as Bulma rose from her seat, moves elegantly towards him. She smiled at him, noticing his surprise.
He took in her beauty with his deep ebony eyes. She wore a black dress that hugged and molded her every curve to perfection. On her head she wore a small silver tiara which was the object that attracted the most attention. It held her endless blue hair up in mid-air, defying gravity and laughing in its face. Vegeta smiled at her attractiveness, she looked almost royal.
"You're late." She scolded.
The prince was brought crash landing back to reality. Vegeta glanced at her, his eyes softening somewhat. Such a beautiful woman deserved an apology and so, without thinking: "Gomen." He muttered.
"You're forgiven." Bulma smiled, she had him in the palm of her hand, the oh mighty prince of Vegetasei. She waited expectantly. Finally Vegeta held out his arm. She took hold of it as they walked out arm in arm of the Estate, drawing the eyes of millions to their every step.
Bulma moved down a marble staircase, through an elegant restaurant toward a far table. Her beauty and natural grace drew approving stares from the men and women that were there dining. She looked and moved like a queen through a ballroom, leading some to believe that she must have been part of Vegetasei's royal family. When it was contrary, she was merely fucking the prince.
At the secluded table, Vegeta sat in conversation with two men. James, who was the king of Draymen Heux, was a sweet looking old man who was in his early 70's, a type of bulky self-made millionaire industrialist. His large lavender eyes gleaming in the candle light of the restaurant as his white hair spilled over his forehead softly, like freshly fallen snow. Sitting next to him was his son and second in command, Yamcha, a handsome man in his early thirties. Yamcha had large black eyes, nothing like his father and a head full of black raven hair. He had two scars on his face, one over his eye and another crossing his cheek. Bulma wondered how they had gotten there. (Don't we all? ~_^)
Every man, even the prince, at the table rose to his feet as Bulma came to join them at the table. Yamcha smiled at her flirtatiously and held out Bulma's chair for her to sit with ease. Vegeta felt vile rise up in his throat. Surprised at Yamcha's gentlemanly action Bulma nodded her head, her way thanks. Once seated Bulma looked down at the forks, knives and spoons before her. She smiled down at the utensils, filled with confidence.
Waiters began to place a delicate salad down in front of each of them. Bulma proudly reached for her salad fork. But then she saw that James had picked up the fork closest to his plate and was digging into his salad with that. Bulma sadly looked down at her hands, her confidence gone.
Bulma tilted her head to the side to see what Vegeta was doing. She was disappointed to find that her prince was not interested in eating yet. Neither did Yamcha. Feeling in a sudden wave of panic, Bulma set her fork down.
James set his fork down as well deciding it was time for him to say a few things of his own. "So young man, I understand you are trying to take over my planet.
There was a moment of tensional silence. The abruptness of the question had taken Vegeta aback for a moment. This had humored the prince, he almost smiled. Vegeta made light of the situation. "Please don't patronize me, King Durain. Our ages mean nothing here."
James and Yamcha looked at one another. Yamcha spoke. "Prince Vegeta, we know you've purchased at least twenty million percent of our stock. We also know you plan to file a formal bid for a majority share."
Vegeta cut Yamcha off, already he didn't like that arrogant son of a bitch. "Twenty-five million percent to correct."
James stepped in seeing that his son was getting no where. "Prince Vegeta, I founded the planet Draymen Heux myself. I know every man who ever worked for me by his first name. I know their wives...and their children. If your intention is to take over my planet and turn it into a glorified real estate deal, think again."
Vegeta, thankfully Bulma thought, now reached for his salad fork and begins to eat. Relieved, Bulma picked up hers. They all eat for a moment. Finally it was Vegeta who broke the silence. "What do you suggest, King Durain?"
Several waiters approached, some of them came to clear the salad plates, and others came to put down the next course. Bulma thought that she had to finish so she quickly stuffed her mouth with the rest of her salad. She was reluctant to let the waiter take her fork. However, no one said another to her.
James was then in a moment of panic himself. "What would it take to buy our stock back? Name your price."
Vegeta couldn't hold back a chuckle. "To get me to even think about selling you'd have to be able to offer me and pay me double what I paid. But your planet doesn't have enough capital right now to buy anything." Vegeta laughed once more.
Bulma looked up at Vegeta helplessly. She had never seen him be so downright evil. She knew that he knew they would never be able to pay him what he wanted. Either way Vegetasei would win. Bulma shook her head and focused on her meal.
Yamcha took his turn at the matter at hand. "We're on the verge of closing a large navy contract. Double is ridiculous but we can assure you a healthy profit on your shares. We would give you a promissory note..." Yamcha was cut off.
"You're not getting any navy contracts." Vegeta stated as if he had been asked if the Vegetasei had two suns.
Bulma could see that both father and son were stunned by this news. Her thoughts were confirmed when Yamcha slammed his fist on the table. "There's no way you could know that."
"But I do know. I also know your lines of credit are over-extended. If I don't buy your planet, someone else will..." Vegeta took a pause to look up and then back at Yamcha's angry black eyes. "Ah, the escargot." Vegeta mocked the seriousness of their conversation.
Escargots were put down in front of everyone. Bulma stared at them dubiously. She picks up what she assumed would be the next "right" fork. She picked up a snail. The two did not fit. Flustered, Bulma didn't know what else to do. No one else seemed to be eating. Then a waiter came and placed escargot forks at each place. Bulma picks her fork up with a sigh of relief.
Bulma cleared her throat softly drawing the attention of the waiter. "Excuse me, what are these things?" She asked very much like a small child would have.
The waiter bent down to whisper in Bulma's ears. "Escargot, mademoiselle." He replied to her.
Vegeta shook his head knowing that Bulma still did not understand. He leaned closer to Bulma, taking in her sent of roses and lavender mixed with the send of a woman. "Snails." He muttered huskily.
Bulma stared at her food and then at vegeta, horrified. She, like James and Yamcha, no longer seemed interested in eating. Vegeta chuckled and ate with pleasure.
Vegeta returned to the matter. "King Durain, I'm not here to sell you my stock. On the contrary, I'm here to buy yours."
James was growing angrier and angrier by the moment. "You've got a lot of nerve."
"No." Vegeta stated nonchalantly. "What I have is a lot of money."
James was in full-blown rage. "I know all about you, Prince Vegeta. When you buy planets, they have a way of disappearing. Even the pension funds are stripped clean. The last three planets you took over were cut up in so many pieces, widows were left without their retirement checks."
Vegeta placed his finger along side of his cheek narrowing his eyes, yet remaining calm. "What I did with those planets was perfectly legal."
"I don't question the legality of what you do. It's your morality that makes me sick. I will not allow my planet to be raped by a man like you." James spat clean across the table in Vegeta's direction.
Vegeta was angry then, a blue tint filling in his eyes. "It is not your planet any more, I own more than half of your shares in it. And I am going to acquire it. Either I buy from the other stock holders, or I buy from you." Vegeta's lips turned into a scowl. "Take your pick."
All through their argument poor, lost, Bulma was still struggling with her escargot. She managed to open the escargot fork and place a slimly snail into it.
"I would suggest that you and your board cooperate with me, rather than fight a battle you don't have the ammunition to win." Vegeta retorted.
Bulma suddenly flung her snail across the table, a waiter caught it with ease as a crimson stain crept up on Bulma's cheeks. Everyone looked in her direction.
"Slippery mother fuckers..." She muttered.
James took a stand. "If you'll excuse me young lady, Prince Vegeta..." James turned to his son. "Deal with this, Yamcha, you know where we stand. I need to go someplace and puke." And with that James left the room.
Yamcha glared at Vegeta and then softened his gaze visibly towards Bulma. "Men like my father built this universe. He was no saint. He screwed people. But for every guy he stepped on, he gave a hundred a good job."
Vegeta remained silent.
Bulma then, spoke her first general words of the night. "He seems like a nice man."
Yamcha then looked at Bulma as if he were seeing her for the first time that night. He swam in the ocean of her beauty in her eyes alone.
Vegeta ignored the feeling at his stomach. "We can reach an understanding on this."
Yamcha turned away from the angel across from him "I don't think so. You should know we're going to fight you with every resource we have."
Vegeta shook his head lightly. "Do what you have to do. I don't take it personally."
Yamcha argued even to this point. "I do. I take it all very personally." Once more his eyes returned to Bulma. "Very nice meeting you, Bulma." He bent to bow and kiss her hand, believing she was a member of the royal family.
Yamcha left, leaving Bulma and Vegeta in utter silence.
Vegeta waited a beat before he spoke to Bulma frankly. "And that's the way the game is played."
Bulma huffed. "Some game. Screwing some poor slob out of his retirement." Bulma hadn't meant to be so blunt about it, however it had just happened.
Vegeta said nothing in regards to Bulma's bluntness or towards her comment. Bulma then could see that she had hit a nerve.
Bulma tried to make light of the situation. "Snails for dinner. No wonder everybody is in such a bad mood."
A waiter then appeared at the table. "Are we ready for the next course, my Prince?" He asked.
Vegeta, with the usual air of arrogance around him, shook his head haughtily. "No. Bring a check, please." He replied.
The waiter turned to Vegeta, he bowed. He turned towards Bulma and looked at her for a moment. Then stricken with shame and panic, bowed. Bulma was confused as the elder man left her side. Bulma looked at Vegeta, her large crystal blue eyes smiling down on the prince. "You know, I like it here." Her smile grew.
Vegeta glanced at her momentarily. He said nothing, and yet Bulma continued. "They treated me like..." She paused when she noticed that Vegeta was looking at her fully. Bulma glanced down at her jeweled hand. "Like...like a queen."
Vegeta picked Bulma's chin up in his hand. "Get use to it." He muttered softly before taking her lips in his own.
~*~
Review!
Review!!
Review!!!
Thanks to all of my reviews. Keep them coming!
Ok I know that I've been gone from FF.Net for a while, but that's because I had a writer's block. Actually a really really big one! Haha. Well I hope that you like this chapter. It took meeh long enough to write that's for sure. Well remember to R&R, who knows I might be back sooner that waii....
Happy reading!
~LadyB
That afternoon Kakkarot was still behind his desk, working when a soft voice startled him. "Goku..."
Kakkarot arched an eyebrow as he looked down at Bulma. How had she come up with that nickname? Kakkarot rather not ask. Bulma still hadn't changed and that was a bigger priority. "What is it, Miss Bulma?"
Bulma shuffled her feet, then looked down at them. "Vegeta is taking me to some fancy place for dinner, you know, The Rex. Ever been there?"
Kakkarot shook his head. "It's a bit beyond my...range, shall we say."
Bulma smiled back at Kakkarot. "Yeah, mine too. Is it like, you know, normal?"
"I think you'll find it normal enough." Kakkarot replied.
Bulma was curious. "Will I like it?" She asked looking down at her feet.
Kakkarot nodded. "You'll like it fine."
Bulma sighed heavily, as if in relief. "Okay. Thanks, Goku, you're the best."
Once again with her head back in the clouds, Bulma turned to walk away and back to her room to get dressed for the night.
Kakkarot watched as she walked away, a bounce in her step. "Just mind which fork you use." He called after her, the thought hitting him.
Bulma turns abruptly back, a horrified look on her face. "Which f-fork?"
Later that day Bulma sat at an elegant formal dinning room complete with a myriad of different sized forks, spoons, stacked china plates and crystal glassware. She looked startled at all of the utensils on the table, she turned to Kakkarot. They sat across from one another, looking eye to eye.
Kakkarot cleared his throat. "In fifteen minutes I can teach you everything you need to know to dine with the Queen. First, as you pick up the knife you shift your fork to the left hand.
"But I always eat like this." Bulma stated as she took the fork into her right hand and didn't even bother with the knife.
Kakkarot shook his head. "Either you're European or badly brought up.
"Hmmm... I vonder vich." Bulma giggled at her own accent as she dangled her hand over the forks, wondering with one to take in her hand.
"Actually, some of the richest people I know have the worst manners. Of course, Prince Vegeta, being of old money, knows his way around a table. All right now, pay attention please. Salad fork." Kakkarot said taking a small fork into his hand.
Bulma was slightly confused. "What if they serve soup?"
"They will serve salad." Kakkarot reassured.
Bulma still wasn't convinced. "But what if they serve soup?"
Kakkarot shook his head. "Then you use your soupspoon."
Bulma smiled at Kakkarot. "I like steak." She stated randomly.
Kakkarot, trying to ignore the randomness in Bulma's character, picked up the appropriate utensil. "Then you would use your--"
A large, childish grin made it's way across Bulma's lips. "Steak spoon!" Bulma laughed out loud.
Kakkarot swallowed his exasperation well and tried to continue on instructing Bulma in the edict of table manners. "Bulma--"
Bulma placed her hand under her chin and rested her elbows on the table. "Maybe I'll just order a burger, Goku, that way I can eat with my hands." She joked.
It was visible in Kakkarot's eyes that he was mortified at the idea. Bulma's smile widened. "Miss Bulma...there's a salon here in the Estate. Instead of worrying unnecessarily about table manners, why don't you just have your hair done instead?"
Bulma's eyes lit up happily. "Professionally?"
Kakkarot got up. "Of course."
Bulma sat in a salon chair as the worker Thane, a young man of about twenty with his long hair pulled back in a pony tail, tilted her head one way and then another, eyeing Bulma professionally.
"You know Thane, I have a friend who has a friend who does Cher's wigs."
Thane's eyes narrowed. "I hate him already. All set?" He asked Bulma turning her to face him once more.
Bulma smiled. "Yeah... what a ya say we chop it all off and bleach the tips."
Thane shook his head in disapproval. "Darling? Trust me when it comes to this. That is not the way for you to go."
Bulma smiled brightly. "Oh Thane you know I was just kidding." She giggled.
He grinned down on her and then tilted her head back in order to shampoo her azure locks of hair.
Vegeta entered the lobby and then looked around the room. He saw rich red velvet couches, crystal lights, and extravagantly dressed women. However there was still no sight of Bulma. Vegeta crossed his hands over his chest, he was growing annoyed with the woman as every minute ticked by. Vegeta crossed the lobby to a house phone and picked it up. He was just about ready to dial when "Good evening, Prince Vegeta."
Vegeta turned to face a much taller Saiyajin man; Vegeta looked at him blankly with his deep ebony eyes.
Kakkarot extended his hand to Vegeta. "I am Kakkarot, sir, the manager of the Estate."
Vegeta rose and eyebrow, however accepted Kakkarot's hand. "Of course, hai. If you'll excuse me just a moment--"
Kakkarot cut him off, even though he knew the price for cutting off a prince was high. "I have a message for you from your 'niece' sir."
Vegeta was about to yell at Kakkarot but was stopped once hearing about his 'niece'. "My what?" Vegeta demanded.
"The young lady staying in your room?" Kakkarot tired, with hope in his voice.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. He hung up the phone rather angrily. "I think we both know she's not my niece."
Kakkarot looked uncomfortable at this statement.
Vegeta eyed Kakkarot up. "Does this Estate have any problem with that?"
"Prince Vegeta, a guest of yours, is a guest of ours and shall be treated accordingly. The young lady asked me to tell you that she is waiting for you in the lounge." Kakkarot replied.
"Arigatou." Vegeta began walking towards the lounge.
Kakkarot watched his prince go. "Very intriguing young woman, Miss Bulma."
His tone managed to stop Vegeta in his tracks.
"Have a good evening, sir." Kakkarot said respectfully.
Vegeta then decided that whatever Kakkarot said had not been of his importance. Vegeta watched as Kakkarot left, leaving Vegeta to wonder what the hell transpired during the afternoon.
Vegeta entered the lounge a few minutes later. He looked around the lounge this time, not seeing Bulma anywhere in the path of his sight. His eyes passed a young girl, they passed an old man, and then suddenly his eyes went back to the beautiful girl with the beautifully styled hair in the beautiful black cocktail dress at the piano bar. Vegeta tried to hide his surprise as Bulma rose from her seat, moves elegantly towards him. She smiled at him, noticing his surprise.
He took in her beauty with his deep ebony eyes. She wore a black dress that hugged and molded her every curve to perfection. On her head she wore a small silver tiara which was the object that attracted the most attention. It held her endless blue hair up in mid-air, defying gravity and laughing in its face. Vegeta smiled at her attractiveness, she looked almost royal.
"You're late." She scolded.
The prince was brought crash landing back to reality. Vegeta glanced at her, his eyes softening somewhat. Such a beautiful woman deserved an apology and so, without thinking: "Gomen." He muttered.
"You're forgiven." Bulma smiled, she had him in the palm of her hand, the oh mighty prince of Vegetasei. She waited expectantly. Finally Vegeta held out his arm. She took hold of it as they walked out arm in arm of the Estate, drawing the eyes of millions to their every step.
Bulma moved down a marble staircase, through an elegant restaurant toward a far table. Her beauty and natural grace drew approving stares from the men and women that were there dining. She looked and moved like a queen through a ballroom, leading some to believe that she must have been part of Vegetasei's royal family. When it was contrary, she was merely fucking the prince.
At the secluded table, Vegeta sat in conversation with two men. James, who was the king of Draymen Heux, was a sweet looking old man who was in his early 70's, a type of bulky self-made millionaire industrialist. His large lavender eyes gleaming in the candle light of the restaurant as his white hair spilled over his forehead softly, like freshly fallen snow. Sitting next to him was his son and second in command, Yamcha, a handsome man in his early thirties. Yamcha had large black eyes, nothing like his father and a head full of black raven hair. He had two scars on his face, one over his eye and another crossing his cheek. Bulma wondered how they had gotten there. (Don't we all? ~_^)
Every man, even the prince, at the table rose to his feet as Bulma came to join them at the table. Yamcha smiled at her flirtatiously and held out Bulma's chair for her to sit with ease. Vegeta felt vile rise up in his throat. Surprised at Yamcha's gentlemanly action Bulma nodded her head, her way thanks. Once seated Bulma looked down at the forks, knives and spoons before her. She smiled down at the utensils, filled with confidence.
Waiters began to place a delicate salad down in front of each of them. Bulma proudly reached for her salad fork. But then she saw that James had picked up the fork closest to his plate and was digging into his salad with that. Bulma sadly looked down at her hands, her confidence gone.
Bulma tilted her head to the side to see what Vegeta was doing. She was disappointed to find that her prince was not interested in eating yet. Neither did Yamcha. Feeling in a sudden wave of panic, Bulma set her fork down.
James set his fork down as well deciding it was time for him to say a few things of his own. "So young man, I understand you are trying to take over my planet.
There was a moment of tensional silence. The abruptness of the question had taken Vegeta aback for a moment. This had humored the prince, he almost smiled. Vegeta made light of the situation. "Please don't patronize me, King Durain. Our ages mean nothing here."
James and Yamcha looked at one another. Yamcha spoke. "Prince Vegeta, we know you've purchased at least twenty million percent of our stock. We also know you plan to file a formal bid for a majority share."
Vegeta cut Yamcha off, already he didn't like that arrogant son of a bitch. "Twenty-five million percent to correct."
James stepped in seeing that his son was getting no where. "Prince Vegeta, I founded the planet Draymen Heux myself. I know every man who ever worked for me by his first name. I know their wives...and their children. If your intention is to take over my planet and turn it into a glorified real estate deal, think again."
Vegeta, thankfully Bulma thought, now reached for his salad fork and begins to eat. Relieved, Bulma picked up hers. They all eat for a moment. Finally it was Vegeta who broke the silence. "What do you suggest, King Durain?"
Several waiters approached, some of them came to clear the salad plates, and others came to put down the next course. Bulma thought that she had to finish so she quickly stuffed her mouth with the rest of her salad. She was reluctant to let the waiter take her fork. However, no one said another to her.
James was then in a moment of panic himself. "What would it take to buy our stock back? Name your price."
Vegeta couldn't hold back a chuckle. "To get me to even think about selling you'd have to be able to offer me and pay me double what I paid. But your planet doesn't have enough capital right now to buy anything." Vegeta laughed once more.
Bulma looked up at Vegeta helplessly. She had never seen him be so downright evil. She knew that he knew they would never be able to pay him what he wanted. Either way Vegetasei would win. Bulma shook her head and focused on her meal.
Yamcha took his turn at the matter at hand. "We're on the verge of closing a large navy contract. Double is ridiculous but we can assure you a healthy profit on your shares. We would give you a promissory note..." Yamcha was cut off.
"You're not getting any navy contracts." Vegeta stated as if he had been asked if the Vegetasei had two suns.
Bulma could see that both father and son were stunned by this news. Her thoughts were confirmed when Yamcha slammed his fist on the table. "There's no way you could know that."
"But I do know. I also know your lines of credit are over-extended. If I don't buy your planet, someone else will..." Vegeta took a pause to look up and then back at Yamcha's angry black eyes. "Ah, the escargot." Vegeta mocked the seriousness of their conversation.
Escargots were put down in front of everyone. Bulma stared at them dubiously. She picks up what she assumed would be the next "right" fork. She picked up a snail. The two did not fit. Flustered, Bulma didn't know what else to do. No one else seemed to be eating. Then a waiter came and placed escargot forks at each place. Bulma picks her fork up with a sigh of relief.
Bulma cleared her throat softly drawing the attention of the waiter. "Excuse me, what are these things?" She asked very much like a small child would have.
The waiter bent down to whisper in Bulma's ears. "Escargot, mademoiselle." He replied to her.
Vegeta shook his head knowing that Bulma still did not understand. He leaned closer to Bulma, taking in her sent of roses and lavender mixed with the send of a woman. "Snails." He muttered huskily.
Bulma stared at her food and then at vegeta, horrified. She, like James and Yamcha, no longer seemed interested in eating. Vegeta chuckled and ate with pleasure.
Vegeta returned to the matter. "King Durain, I'm not here to sell you my stock. On the contrary, I'm here to buy yours."
James was growing angrier and angrier by the moment. "You've got a lot of nerve."
"No." Vegeta stated nonchalantly. "What I have is a lot of money."
James was in full-blown rage. "I know all about you, Prince Vegeta. When you buy planets, they have a way of disappearing. Even the pension funds are stripped clean. The last three planets you took over were cut up in so many pieces, widows were left without their retirement checks."
Vegeta placed his finger along side of his cheek narrowing his eyes, yet remaining calm. "What I did with those planets was perfectly legal."
"I don't question the legality of what you do. It's your morality that makes me sick. I will not allow my planet to be raped by a man like you." James spat clean across the table in Vegeta's direction.
Vegeta was angry then, a blue tint filling in his eyes. "It is not your planet any more, I own more than half of your shares in it. And I am going to acquire it. Either I buy from the other stock holders, or I buy from you." Vegeta's lips turned into a scowl. "Take your pick."
All through their argument poor, lost, Bulma was still struggling with her escargot. She managed to open the escargot fork and place a slimly snail into it.
"I would suggest that you and your board cooperate with me, rather than fight a battle you don't have the ammunition to win." Vegeta retorted.
Bulma suddenly flung her snail across the table, a waiter caught it with ease as a crimson stain crept up on Bulma's cheeks. Everyone looked in her direction.
"Slippery mother fuckers..." She muttered.
James took a stand. "If you'll excuse me young lady, Prince Vegeta..." James turned to his son. "Deal with this, Yamcha, you know where we stand. I need to go someplace and puke." And with that James left the room.
Yamcha glared at Vegeta and then softened his gaze visibly towards Bulma. "Men like my father built this universe. He was no saint. He screwed people. But for every guy he stepped on, he gave a hundred a good job."
Vegeta remained silent.
Bulma then, spoke her first general words of the night. "He seems like a nice man."
Yamcha then looked at Bulma as if he were seeing her for the first time that night. He swam in the ocean of her beauty in her eyes alone.
Vegeta ignored the feeling at his stomach. "We can reach an understanding on this."
Yamcha turned away from the angel across from him "I don't think so. You should know we're going to fight you with every resource we have."
Vegeta shook his head lightly. "Do what you have to do. I don't take it personally."
Yamcha argued even to this point. "I do. I take it all very personally." Once more his eyes returned to Bulma. "Very nice meeting you, Bulma." He bent to bow and kiss her hand, believing she was a member of the royal family.
Yamcha left, leaving Bulma and Vegeta in utter silence.
Vegeta waited a beat before he spoke to Bulma frankly. "And that's the way the game is played."
Bulma huffed. "Some game. Screwing some poor slob out of his retirement." Bulma hadn't meant to be so blunt about it, however it had just happened.
Vegeta said nothing in regards to Bulma's bluntness or towards her comment. Bulma then could see that she had hit a nerve.
Bulma tried to make light of the situation. "Snails for dinner. No wonder everybody is in such a bad mood."
A waiter then appeared at the table. "Are we ready for the next course, my Prince?" He asked.
Vegeta, with the usual air of arrogance around him, shook his head haughtily. "No. Bring a check, please." He replied.
The waiter turned to Vegeta, he bowed. He turned towards Bulma and looked at her for a moment. Then stricken with shame and panic, bowed. Bulma was confused as the elder man left her side. Bulma looked at Vegeta, her large crystal blue eyes smiling down on the prince. "You know, I like it here." Her smile grew.
Vegeta glanced at her momentarily. He said nothing, and yet Bulma continued. "They treated me like..." She paused when she noticed that Vegeta was looking at her fully. Bulma glanced down at her jeweled hand. "Like...like a queen."
Vegeta picked Bulma's chin up in his hand. "Get use to it." He muttered softly before taking her lips in his own.
~*~
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