Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke.
Authors note: Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and reading! I'm glad you like! Sorry about slow uploading. I'm busy taking care of mom, sketching, and beating Chrono Trigger while I battle this stupid writer's block. Grr…Oh well. Anyway. This time I'm typing out and posting 2 chapters. Yeah! They will both probably be short, but you'll live, right?
On to the madness…
"Lay beside me, and tell me what they've done. Speak the words I wanna hear to make my feelings run…" Vegeta gently pressed the skip button on the stereo in his small room. Addicted to rock 'n' roll, he normally relished in Metallica's heavy tone, but today the lyrics on Reload's fourth track were only making him restless. He decided that the break from training was officially over, and he headed for the kitchen, intending to hydrate himself before hitting the chamber. Arriving in the flourescent lighted, vinyl tiled area he rummaged through the whitewashed cabinets until he found a rather large pitcher. After filling it up with water and consistently downing in several times, he wiped the back of his mouth with a gloved hand, eyebrows pricking up with interest as he heard Bulma's agitated voice pick up volume from another room. He lost interest however, when he realized that she was only yelling at the pathetic excuse for a mate she had. He was probably feeding her empty promises on how this time he wouldn't cheat on her while they were engaged, and she was obviously not taking any of his crap this time. FINALLY! It got rather annoying to Vegeta to see Yamcha over here so much. The Saiyajin no Ouji really hated that man, and the only reason why he didn't arrange for Yamcha to have another appointment with his maker was because the onna wouldn't like that and he was a guest in her house. Diplomacy and Honor could be a pain sometimes.
Vegeta shrugged and turned to head for the gravity chamber when Bulma yelled for him. Equally curious and annoyed, he stalked into the living room, arms crossed and scowling.
"What do you want woman? You are postponing valuable training time."
Bulma grinned cheesily at him and sugar coated her voice. "Vegeta, can I ask you a FAY-VOR?" Vegeta grunted, which Bulma knew to take as a "Go ahead and ask, but I don't have to do it." She put her hands behind her back and rocked back and fourth. "I was wondering if you would be a dear and escort Yamcha to the door. He seems to have forgotten the way out." She flashed another grin. "Pretty please with ice cream on top?"
Vegeta didn't just give his usual smirk. The Prince actually gave a full blown, no holds barred GRIN at the prospect of having permission to get a bit rough on Yamcha, who wasn't as happy as Vegeta was with this turn of events. The scar-faced warrior was glaring daggers at his ex-fiancé. "I see you have your monkey well-trained. Tell Igor here to back off, I can find the door myself."
Unfortunately for Yamcha, Vegeta had caught the midnight monster marathon, and now knew the story of Dr. Frankenstein, as well as his henchman, and knew the allusion to be an insult. Vegeta stalked toward Yamcha. "I am a slave of NO ONE!" A few moments later Yamcha was more closely aquatinted to his air-car than he would have liked to be.
Vegeta watched him pull his face off the chrome and speed off, scaring the living daylights out of a little old lady on her afternoon walk. He then turned and re-entered the house to find Bulma staring out the window at the gardens near the music wing. She looked kind of out of it, staring out in space as she was. He shook his head, and walked past her, heading once again for the back door when she spoke.
"Thanks, Veggie. I was almost going to take him back…that's why I called you." She sighed, and trudged over to the couch, plopping down and proceeded to channel surf. Vegeta shrugged and chuckled a little.
"You should do that more often. I rather enjoyed it. Quite a…sport, this bodyguard business." Bulma laughed, in spite of the melancholy mood she was in. Then it hit her. Vegeta, Mr. "Kill 'Em All" himself had just not only make a joke that WASN'T pointed at her, but he had cheered her up. She turned again to thank him, but he was already gone. A spaced out alien, an overbearing over-reactive daughter of the Ox-King, A bald ex-monk with no nose, a talking pig, a talking cat, both of which could shape-shift, a fat coward, a introverted green man, and now a mass murdering bad guy gone…less bad. She had some weird friends.
