Chapter Ten
Vegeta sat in their room, not knowing what the hell he should do. It was all his fault that she did this. Why did he have to be such a bastard? Now she was stuck between life and death. He hoped to Kami that she would pull through, but then what? Was he still going to be a bastard? Probably. People didn't learn how not to be one over night, and he'd been one his whole life. That's what you get when you're a prince who was forced to work under Frieza. Frieza had broken everything but his pride, and though the bastard was dead, he still came to haunt him—now through the woman.
Bulma. Her name is Bulma. Kami, if she got out of this he'd have to remember to call her Bulma.
Suddenly the solution hit him like a ton of bricks: the dragonballs. He could wish her well, or try to. There had to be something those things could do for her. He ran down to her lab and started to rummage through it, looking for the dragon radar. He found it in the top drawer of her desk, along with a new set of plans for a better gravity room. Vegeta's Birthday Present' was scrawled on the top of the plans. Damn woman. She'd taken to celebrating his birthday the year he came to live on earth. He didn't think it was a big deal to celebrate his date of birth, especially since many people probably would have shunned it, but she faithfully celebrated it every year as if it were some sort of holiday. He could still remember the first time.
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Before . . . .
Vegeta exited the gravity machine, tired from a days training. The smell of dinner wafted through the night air. It actually smelled . . . good. He walked into the kitchen and found the woman had set the table for two. She had ordered out: Italian food. She was no where to be found, though, so he sat down and waited. He would have much rather eaten and gone, but she went through all the damned trouble of setting the table that she probably would have screamed his ear off if he did.
He waited about five minutes before she finally entered the room. She shrieked in surprise.
"Vegeta! How long have you been waiting here?"
"Too damned long, woman. I'm hungry," he growled at her, annoyed.
She sat down across the table from him. "Well, then, let's eat."
She served herself first and then gave him the rest of the food, leaving it in a heaping pile in his plate. He ate his food quickly and then watched her as she took her time. Damn woman ate too slow. She finally finished and gathered up their plates, putting them in the sink. He made a move to leave.
"Vegeta," she said. She placed a hand on his, staying him at the table.
He looked at her curiously. What was she up to?
She picked up something from the floor and placed it on the table in front of him. It was a box wrapped in a shiny blue paper. "It's a gift," she said. "Happy Birthday."
He looked at her, his eyes skeptical. "It's not my birthday."
"I figured that much, but I also figured you'd never tell me when your birthday is, so I thought I'd just pick a day," she said simply.
"Why?" he asked her.
"Because I wanted to be nice," she said, her voice exasperated. "Do I need to have a reason for everything?"
"Yes," he replied and then eyed the present. He picked it up. The paper was a nice color; he liked blue.
"You have to open it," she said.
He shot her a look which silenced her. He tore at the paper and opened the box. He pulled out a . . . shirt. It was a dark blue collared shirt. He frowned. Where the hell was he supposed to wear this? He looked at the woman. Her face had fallen a bit when he frowned.
"You don't like it?" she said in a small voice.
Oh Kami. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. "No, it's fine," he said hurriedly, his voice rough, not wanting to hear her crying.
She smiled then, a big smile. Then she walked over to him and gave him a hug. "You're welcome," she said. "I know you'll never say thank you."
She walked out of the kitchen and up to her own room. He sat there for a moment, trying to grasp what had just happened. No one had ever celebrated his birthday, not even his own father. Yet her she was, celebrating it for him. They could hardly stand each other, but she'd done this for him, just to be . . . nice.
He walked up to his room and opened the closet door. All his training suits were lined up neatly, along with a pair of lemon-yellow pants and a pink Badman shirt. He hung the blue shirt up next to the Badman shirt. Well, at least she'd given him a blue shirt this time.
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Now . . . .
Vegeta grabbed the dragon radar and clicked it on. Automatically seven dots appeared on the screen. "It's time to go hunting," he said, and then flew out of the lab and into the sky in search of the dragonballs.
