Chapter Three
Vegeta stepped out of the gravity machine and made his way silently to the kitchen. The moon was high in the sky, the stars blinking their colors of yellow, red, green, and blue. The woman hadn't come back yet; he could tell because the kitchen light was off and he couldn't feel her weak ki. Trunks was home, but Bra wasn't; she was probably off on another date with Kakkarot's brat. It was bad enough that Trunks was in love with Kakkarot's brat's daughter, but now Bra was all over Kakkarot's other brat. He shuttered to think he might be tied to Kakkarot in two ways.
He entered the kitchen and flicked on the light. He could hear the television from the living room where Trunks probably was sprawled out on the couch sleeping. He went to the fridge and rummaged through it for something edible. There wasn't much. He'd have to remember to tell the brats to go shopping for some food. After he had eaten everything that could be eaten in the fridge, he went into the living room. He was right; the TV was watching Trunks instead of the other way around. He hit Trunks on the leg. Trunks jumped up, looking like he was ready hurt someone. When he realized it was his father he sat down on the couch.
Vegeta crossed his arms and looked at his son. "I think the TV was getting bored with the program it was watching."
Trunks looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry, Father." He got up from the couch. "I'll go sleep in my room."
Vegeta grunted and watched his son walk to his room. He got the remote and shut off the TV. He hated the thing. He couldn't understand what was damned intriguing about it. The woman was constantly watching it when she wasn't working in the lab or yelling at him.
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Before . . . .
The woman was flipping through the channels at a speed Vegeta didn't even know she had. "Woman, how the hell do you know what's going on if you don't even stick around long enough to hear what they're saying?"
She looked back at him, her blue eyes careless. "If it looks interesting, I stop. If not then . . . too bad," she said shrugging. She returned to looking at the TV, flipping through the channels again.
"Stupid woman," he muttered under his breath.
He was surprised when she suddenly turned the TV off. She turned her eyes on him and said, "Vegeta, the first lesson of not being a bastard is to stop calling people names."
He gave her a look that said "what planet are you from?"
She gave him a "stupid, don't you remember" look and said, "I told you last night that I was going to teach you how not to be a bastard."
Vegeta smirked and crossed his arms. "I'd like to see you try, woman."
She got up from the couch and walked over to him. "Vegeta, I have a name, you know. It's Bulma. Maybe you'd get a little more respect from me if you started to use it." She smiled at him sweetly and went to the kitchen.
Vegeta's eyebrows came together in confusion. What was her game? He followed her into the kitchen. "I'm hungry, woman," he said to her.
She moved around the kitchen, ignoring him. She heated herself a can of soup, sat at the table, and began to eat. He continued to stare at her. "Is there something you want, Vegeta?" she said, her voice indicating that she knew exactly what he wanted.
"I'm hungry. Go make me something," he said.
She smirked and sat back in her chair. "Ask me nicely and maybe I will."
"Woman, I don't ask," he said angry.
"Yeah, I know, which means I won't cook. You can go cook for yourself," she said, getting up and placing her bowl in the sink.
"Woman!"
"I have a name, Vegetable Head," she said casually, walking to the living room.
He sat down and started to seethe in his chair. How dare she speak to him in that way? He heard the TV go on in the next room and she started flipping through the channels again. He got up from the chair and went to the living room. "Woman-"
"I have a name," she said, faking a yawn. He knew she was very much awake; she was waiting for him to give into her.
Well, he wasn't. He walked back into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge. He grabbed what he deemed edible and went back to the table. He'd prove to her that he didn't need her to make his food. He went to a lower cupboard and took out a pan that he'd seen her use before. He didn't quite know how to use these human cooking gadgets, but he'd seen the woman do it enough times that he figured he could get it right. He cut through tomatoes and potatoes and several other things that didn't quite match if you ate them all at one time, but he was hungry and he really didn't care. He turned the stove on and put the pan on it. He went to the fridge and got some butter; the woman always put that on before she put the food in the pan. He waited for the pan to heat and threw the butter on, watching it sizzle. He threw in what he had just cut and watched it cook. He grabbed a flat spoon—he vaguely remembered that the woman had called it a spatula or something like that—and started to turn the food over, making sure it didn't burn.
After he deemed it was cooked enough, he took the pan off the burner. He grabbed a plate and put the freshly cooked food on the plate. He went back to the fridge and took out a fish that Kakkarot had dropped off earlier; that idiot was always bringing fish. He cleaned it quickly, scaling the skin off smoothly, and then cut the fish into small pieces, sashimi size. He'd seen the woman once try to do that, but she'd given up after a while. He told her that proved that she was an incompetent baka human. She'd thrown a pot at his head.
He sat down at the table, finally able to eat. Now he remembered why he wanted the woman to cook; it took too much of his time to cook. He growled and started to eat. He noticed the woman silently peek into the kitchen. He smirked to himself, enjoying the surprised look on her face. She came inside and sat down across from him.
"Vegeta?" she breathed.
He silently looked at her from the corner of his eye and continued eating.
"You didn't tell me you knew how to cook," she said quietly.
He ignored her.
She started to laugh.
He glared at her. "What?"
She looked at him, trying to keep her composure. "Tomatoes, potatoes, apples, and oranges. Totemo oishii," she said, unable to control her laughter.
He looked down at his plate. Damn. He must look like a fool. He took a breath, trying to stop the blood from rushing to his cheeks, and continued to eat, ignoring her. She stared at him companionably.
"So, when are you going to cook for me, Veggie-chan?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He glared at her and said nothing.
"Oh," she said pouting. "You don't want to cook for me, little ol' me? Who cooked for you for all this time?" She sat back in her chair and smiled at him.
He finished his food and put his plate in the sink. He felt her gaze on him all the while, silently laughing at him. Damn her. Why did he always feel like a fool around her? He stalked off to his room, wanting to get away from her penetrating eyes. Jumping into his bed, he shut his eyes trying to sleep. He heard the door open as the woman silently entered the room. She closed the door and crawled into the bed next to him. She snuggled closely to his back again. He could feel her smiling, silently still laughing.
"How was your dinner, Veggie-chan?" she asked him.
He grunted. "Better than yours, woman."
"I don't know, Veggie-chan, I happen to like soup. But, tomatoes-"
"Shut up, woman."
"I have a name, Vegetable Head."
"So do I."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Veg-Head. I thought since you weren't using my name I didn't have to use yours," she said sarcastically.
He was getting irritated with this conversation. "Woman, go to sleep."
"Why? Don't you like arguing with me, Veggie-chan?" she said, mock pouting.
"Woman-"
"Veggie-chan."
"Bulma! Go to sleep!" he roared at her.
She threw her arms around him. "Sure, Vegeta."
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Now . . . .
Vegeta shut the light off in the living room and made his way to his room, the room he still shared with the woman. She wasn't there, though. He could still smell her in the air, and as he lay in bed, he could almost feel her snuggle against his back as she always did before she slept. She'd always been there at night, even after they had fought, but now she wasn't. It almost made him regret her being gone.
"Baka woman," he said, pushing the regret aside. He fell into a fitful sleep.
