Chapter 9: Happy Trails to You
Bulma opened her eyes as someone pounded on her door. The clock next to her head read nine. "What!?" she screamed.
"Get up woman! You're supposed to be fixing that piece of shit machine! Not lounging around like some royal bitch!" his voice was gruffer than usual.
Bulma growled, stumbling out of bed she yanked the door open. "I'll get to it when I damn well feel like it!"
His eyes narrowed. It somehow pleased him that she wasn't scared of him. To a point. "Fix the damn machine or I'll start blowing up things around the compound. Starting with your room." His ki flared, a pale blue aura sprang to life around his extended hand.
She looked into his face. Yep. He was serious. "Asshole. Let me put some clothes on." She slammed the door. Scrounging around, she grabbed a pair of pink shorts and a baby blue tank. Slinging things in anger she shoved her feet in her tennis shoes and pulled her hair back.
Storming out the door, she practically mowed him down. "Are you still here? Get out of my way baka! If you can't be useful, get lost!" she jogged down the stairs, ignoring her mother. Grabbing a tool box off the shelf in the workshop, she headed out into the yard.
"Don't you speak to me like that woman! If you'd fix the damn thing right to start with, this wouldn't happen all the time." He shouted.
"Here!" she handed him the tool box, which he just looked at.
"What? You don't expect me to-" he started.
"I most certainly do! If you want this stupid thing fixed then your gonna get your butt in here and help. Or I won't give a tinkers damn what you blow up! It would be easier to move!" she slammed the toolbox into his abdomen, feeling some satisfaction at his grunt, then headed up the ramp.
Vegeta stared after her for a minute, wavering between blowing up the whole compound or just her. But he found himself following her up the ramp.
She already had one of the panels pulled and was on her hands and knees with her head stuck back inside the console. He looked at her butt and smiled. The soft pink sorts fit her nicely. He dropped the box. It clanged loudly on the floor causing her to raise up and hit her head.
Bulma crawled from under the panel and gave him a murderous look. "Make yourself useful, if that's possible, and take off that top panel. And remember. Break it and it'll take that much longer to fix." She grabbed several tools and laid them out next to her, then slid most of her body back under the console.
He grabbed a screwdriver and began loosening the panel. "Nothing is worth this." He grumbled. "Woman! You could have destroyed Frieza's empire with just your mouth alone!" she ignored him.
They worked for several hours, mainly in silence. The only words spoken were usually a request for a tool or instructions of some kind.
"Ok, I'm not sure if this relay will hold. Power it up and increase the gravity to about five." She was mostly outside the machine, lying on her back, looking up into a mangle of wiring connected to a circuit board.
Vegeta slapped the controls on and activated the gravity simulation. It blinked a couple of times before the last reading it had been programmed with popped up. He frowned. "Why didn't it clear itself?"
Bulma sat up to look just as the circuitry clicked. The room turned an odd shade of red as she was crushed to the floor. The computer voice was speaking. "Warning. Simulation beyond human biological tolerance."
"Wha-?" Vegeta almost buckled under the unexpected change. He grabbed for the controls to turn them off.
"Malfunction in circuit panel five. Unable to decrease gravity."
He stepped back and let a small ki blast go. It was just enough to destroy the console. The gravity slowly went back to normal. He knelt down to check her. Her heart was beating faintly, but she wasn't breathing. Feeling a little panicked, "Woman?" Now what? His mind raced. That show she watched all the time. How did they get people to breathing again?
Lifting her a little, he bent down and pinched her nose shut and blew into her mouth. He felt her chest rise. He repeated it until she drew in a ragged breath on her own.
Yamcha had heard the explosion as he walked up to the house and had immediately ran to the capsule. He stood at the head of the ramp, surveying the damage. He had started to yell at Vegeta when he realized what he was doing.
"What happened?"
Her eyes fluttered open. Every fiber of her being hurt like someone had dropped a house on her.
"Idiot! Didn't you know the computer would startup at the same point it shut down?" he growled.
"Babe, you ok?" Yamcha's worried face entered her field of vision.
"I-I hurt all over." She cried.
"That usually happens when you get crushed." Vegeta frowned.
"We need to get her to the infirmiry." Yamcha tried to ignore the possessive grip the Saiyan had on her. He had been aware of the growing attraction Bulma had for the man, but he hadn't expected it to be returned. In any shape or form. He didn't know weather to be happy or worried for her. They were going to have to have a long talk about things when she was better.
A week later:
Yamcha and Bulma sat in a fairly upscale restaurant. It had been somewhat awkward. She looked across the table at him, wondering if he was going to spit it out or if she would have to do it herself.
He sighed. She was looking at him again. How was he going to do this? Maybe she wouldn't make a scene in such a nice place. "Babe, I wanted to talk to you about us." He looked around, then took a long sip of his wine.
"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"
He almost choked. "H-how did you know? Was I that obvious?"
"I've been expecting it really. I've almost called you up to do it myself." She smiled sadly. It really wasn't fair to either of them to keep dragging this on.
"It seems so strange. We've been together for so long, I don't know what it's gonna be like…" he cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to be the one to get choked up. But it was what he knew they both really wanted.
"Hey, we'll still be the best of friends. You can't get rid of me that easily you old desert rat." She reached out and stroked his cheek. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
"Yeah. Your right. No matter what, we'll always be there for each other." He patted her hand and kissed her palm. "Just be careful. I don't trust him, but I think he has feelings for you. Even though he'd never admit it."
She blushed. Had she been so obvious about her attraction to Vegeta? "That's not why you're doing this is it?"
"No. With the short amount of time before the androids come, I just think it would be better. We've never been with anyone else. You're attracted to him, and well, I'd like to play the field for awhile."
"Then, you be careful too." They finished their meal on a much lighter and more enthusiastic note than they had shared in a long time.
Bulma walked in the front door and put her purse down on the table. She didn't even see Vegeta standing in the dark corner of the living room, staring out the door. Her mother was sitting in the kitchen, flipping through a mountain of recipe books.
"How'd it go dear? Did you and Yamcha have a good time?"
"Yes. We did."
Vegeta frowned.
"What all did you do? Your home awfully early." She looked up at her daughter and smiled.
"Oh. We broke up." She sat down at the table and picked up a book.
"That's nice. Wait. Did you say you broke up?"
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. All the other times the woman had fought with that baka human she had come home crying and ranting. But they had gotten back together days later. Why was she so calm?
"That's what I said. We broke up. Mutual agreement. We both decided that since the androids would be here in a couple of years, there was no since in being unhappy. He wants to play the field and I, well, we'll see." She shrugged.
"Gee, are you gonna be alright?"
"Yeah. We're still best friends. I just want him to be happy. Who knows. Maybe I'll be able to do in two years what I haven't been able to do in the last fifteen. Meet the love of my life, get married, have a family." Tears slipped unbidden down her face. She was never going to find those things. Vegeta would never be interested in anything like that. He didn't even want to touch her.
"Oh honey. It'll be alright. Things happen for a reason. If Peter Wilkins hadn't broken up with me the day before the senior prom, I would've never gotten to go on that wonderful first date with your father." Mrs. Briefs sighed. It was like a scene right out of one of her favorite movies. (Back To The Future ^_^)
So, it was really over this time? No screaming fits, no wailing for hours on end. He couldn't help the smile that slid onto his face. He knew why. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to follow through with it or not. He slipped out the sliding door and levitated down to the yard. A couple hours of hard training ought to clear his head.
Next chappy will be a LEMON! Tastefully done, like a cool glass of lemonade on a hot summer day. Or a chilled piece of lemon meringue at a picnic….