Chapter 5- "The Package"
The next morning, the disgruntled prince awoke to the chirping of a robin and the bold sunshine through the French doors. Vegeta grunted groggily, knowing he had someone to wake up for. He itched under his tight clothes. Note to self: never sleep in spandex. He stumbled over to his room and flipped the lights on, not caring what her mood was. Even with the disturbance of the light and Vegeta dragging his feet, the little princess remained asleep.
Vegeta plopped into the swirl chair he'd spent hours in the night before and stared dreamily at the sleeping beauty. She reminded him of a porcelin doll he'd seen on a home shopping network. Unable to control himself, he grazed his hand through her soft blue hair, still filled with shampoo. His mouth began to twitch at the corners, forming something other than a scowl or smirk. He was smiling, and because of one lonely woman. Part of him wanted to stay the scowling Prince, but the stronger part was fond of this new feeling.
She shifted around and put her hand to her head in discomfort. He guided it away and held her hand in his. She rustled the sheets and smiled. She was comforted in her pain by the unruly Saiyan Prince. As her eyes fluttered open, Vegeta dropped her hand and returned his scowl.
"Morning cheerful!" she said stretching. It took a while for either of them to speak.
"I'm famished woman, and I . . . don't know how to make food. Now get dressed!"
"Well, I need clothes, because I'm not wearing this stupid bathrobe another second," and as he marched out towards her room she called, "and make sure they match!" Moron. How am I supposed to know if they match?? He brought her clothes from her closet, not caring what she wore or if it matched. Into Bulma's lap fell a pale blue butterfly spaghetti strap shirt and her khaki shorts. Put together was her favorite casual outift.
"Well? Get dressed woman!" he demanded impatiently.
"Um, you forgot something..." she replied glancing down. Vegeta sent back a desparate, pleading look. Undergarments weren't his domain. Bulma squeezed out her best puppy face, sending Vegeta grudgingly back to her dresser. Bulma heard him pull open a drawer and scream. She giggled louder than normal, knowing he'd gone into the wrong one. The drawer slammed shut and the paled Prince walked stiffly back in, eyes bulging. He glared at Bulma and she giggled again.
"Um, third drawer from the top." she said, cheeks flushed with embaressment. He left again and returned as quickly as possible, bra and undies in outstretched hand. Vegeta had never had to encounter women's lingerie before. How weird... And Yamcha got to see THAT?? It scared him...
"Now dress!" he commanded gruffly, still keeping his composure.
"Not with you staring at me you perverted monkey! Turn around and close your eyes!" He followed as suit and waited, still hungry and impatient.
"Hurry up! I haven't got a lifetime!" Within moments she yelled that she was ready, and before she could protest, was lifted out of bed and carried down the stairs by Vegeta's strong arms. Wow, he's pretty hunky. She still smelled of blood, but that couldn't be helped right then. Her hair was sticky from the shampoo-blood mixture. Vegeta sat her safely on the dining room table and prepared to inspect the suspicious jagged spot he'd seen in her bathrobe.
"Hold still..." she grabbed his reaching hand, afraid of what he might do.
"What do you think you're doing??" she barked.
"I need to see something. It might hurt." He lifted her shirt about an inch or so, and protruding from her side, was another piece of glass, slightly larger than the other. Vegeta's eyes went wide, and Bulma became concerned when the almighty Prince showed a little fear.
"Vegeta, what's wrong?"
"Where do you keep the gause?"
"Why?"
"Just tell me woman!" Bulma was shocked at his roughness.
"You apparently used most of it for my head, but there's more in my parents'..." Vegeta had already taken off down the hall, "...bathroom." Her breathing had sounded different to him. He needed to remove the piece to prevent it from doing any more damage. But what if this piece had somehow hurt her lungs? In a flash, Vegeta had returned to Bulma's side, gause in tact.
"Hold still again..." he commanded.
"Vegeta, what are you... OW! Shit! That hurt! What in Kame's name did you do??" He was too preoccupied with wrapping the wound to listen or respond. When he finished, he held up the glass for her to see. She stared open-mouthed at the TV, the pieces falling together in her mind. She sighed deeply, and gazed at Vegeta.
"Thank you, Vegeta. I'm sorry I yelled at you before." There was a long silence. Vegeta reached to the floor and handed Bulma the package that had arrived the day before.
"Oh yeah! I never opened it!" She took the extra pair of scissors from the table and sliced the tape from it's package. The face of the strange postal man crossed her mind again, and her hands began to shake as she removed the bubble wrap from the box. Vegeta noticed her sudden speed change and hiked an eyebrow in question. Together they peered slowly and silently into the box. Inside lay a folded sheet of paper, which Bulma removed, uncovering a mass of training gear. As Vegeta removed the gear piece by piece, he noticed Bulma had become motionless. Her eyes were wide and fixated on the letter. As it drifted gradually from her hand to the floor, Vegeta snatched it from it's flight to discover what had paralyzed her.
"Another fight.... Dr. Gero... ultimate fighters....no..more..fighting..." Bulma mumbled mindlessly to herself as Vegeta read aloud:
"To All Members of the Z Team:
On May 1st, the world's Ultimate Fighters shall be released to rule the world. I have given you a month to
prepare; you will need every second of it. Do not take
this warning lightly. Whether you stay or go, your fate
will be the same. I will be awaiting your arrival at
the shrine of Kame. I will finally have my Ultimate
Revenge!
-Dr. Gero."
The next morning, the disgruntled prince awoke to the chirping of a robin and the bold sunshine through the French doors. Vegeta grunted groggily, knowing he had someone to wake up for. He itched under his tight clothes. Note to self: never sleep in spandex. He stumbled over to his room and flipped the lights on, not caring what her mood was. Even with the disturbance of the light and Vegeta dragging his feet, the little princess remained asleep.
Vegeta plopped into the swirl chair he'd spent hours in the night before and stared dreamily at the sleeping beauty. She reminded him of a porcelin doll he'd seen on a home shopping network. Unable to control himself, he grazed his hand through her soft blue hair, still filled with shampoo. His mouth began to twitch at the corners, forming something other than a scowl or smirk. He was smiling, and because of one lonely woman. Part of him wanted to stay the scowling Prince, but the stronger part was fond of this new feeling.
She shifted around and put her hand to her head in discomfort. He guided it away and held her hand in his. She rustled the sheets and smiled. She was comforted in her pain by the unruly Saiyan Prince. As her eyes fluttered open, Vegeta dropped her hand and returned his scowl.
"Morning cheerful!" she said stretching. It took a while for either of them to speak.
"I'm famished woman, and I . . . don't know how to make food. Now get dressed!"
"Well, I need clothes, because I'm not wearing this stupid bathrobe another second," and as he marched out towards her room she called, "and make sure they match!" Moron. How am I supposed to know if they match?? He brought her clothes from her closet, not caring what she wore or if it matched. Into Bulma's lap fell a pale blue butterfly spaghetti strap shirt and her khaki shorts. Put together was her favorite casual outift.
"Well? Get dressed woman!" he demanded impatiently.
"Um, you forgot something..." she replied glancing down. Vegeta sent back a desparate, pleading look. Undergarments weren't his domain. Bulma squeezed out her best puppy face, sending Vegeta grudgingly back to her dresser. Bulma heard him pull open a drawer and scream. She giggled louder than normal, knowing he'd gone into the wrong one. The drawer slammed shut and the paled Prince walked stiffly back in, eyes bulging. He glared at Bulma and she giggled again.
"Um, third drawer from the top." she said, cheeks flushed with embaressment. He left again and returned as quickly as possible, bra and undies in outstretched hand. Vegeta had never had to encounter women's lingerie before. How weird... And Yamcha got to see THAT?? It scared him...
"Now dress!" he commanded gruffly, still keeping his composure.
"Not with you staring at me you perverted monkey! Turn around and close your eyes!" He followed as suit and waited, still hungry and impatient.
"Hurry up! I haven't got a lifetime!" Within moments she yelled that she was ready, and before she could protest, was lifted out of bed and carried down the stairs by Vegeta's strong arms. Wow, he's pretty hunky. She still smelled of blood, but that couldn't be helped right then. Her hair was sticky from the shampoo-blood mixture. Vegeta sat her safely on the dining room table and prepared to inspect the suspicious jagged spot he'd seen in her bathrobe.
"Hold still..." she grabbed his reaching hand, afraid of what he might do.
"What do you think you're doing??" she barked.
"I need to see something. It might hurt." He lifted her shirt about an inch or so, and protruding from her side, was another piece of glass, slightly larger than the other. Vegeta's eyes went wide, and Bulma became concerned when the almighty Prince showed a little fear.
"Vegeta, what's wrong?"
"Where do you keep the gause?"
"Why?"
"Just tell me woman!" Bulma was shocked at his roughness.
"You apparently used most of it for my head, but there's more in my parents'..." Vegeta had already taken off down the hall, "...bathroom." Her breathing had sounded different to him. He needed to remove the piece to prevent it from doing any more damage. But what if this piece had somehow hurt her lungs? In a flash, Vegeta had returned to Bulma's side, gause in tact.
"Hold still again..." he commanded.
"Vegeta, what are you... OW! Shit! That hurt! What in Kame's name did you do??" He was too preoccupied with wrapping the wound to listen or respond. When he finished, he held up the glass for her to see. She stared open-mouthed at the TV, the pieces falling together in her mind. She sighed deeply, and gazed at Vegeta.
"Thank you, Vegeta. I'm sorry I yelled at you before." There was a long silence. Vegeta reached to the floor and handed Bulma the package that had arrived the day before.
"Oh yeah! I never opened it!" She took the extra pair of scissors from the table and sliced the tape from it's package. The face of the strange postal man crossed her mind again, and her hands began to shake as she removed the bubble wrap from the box. Vegeta noticed her sudden speed change and hiked an eyebrow in question. Together they peered slowly and silently into the box. Inside lay a folded sheet of paper, which Bulma removed, uncovering a mass of training gear. As Vegeta removed the gear piece by piece, he noticed Bulma had become motionless. Her eyes were wide and fixated on the letter. As it drifted gradually from her hand to the floor, Vegeta snatched it from it's flight to discover what had paralyzed her.
"Another fight.... Dr. Gero... ultimate fighters....no..more..fighting..." Bulma mumbled mindlessly to herself as Vegeta read aloud:
"To All Members of the Z Team:
On May 1st, the world's Ultimate Fighters shall be released to rule the world. I have given you a month to
prepare; you will need every second of it. Do not take
this warning lightly. Whether you stay or go, your fate
will be the same. I will be awaiting your arrival at
the shrine of Kame. I will finally have my Ultimate
Revenge!
-Dr. Gero."
