Trivial Things
By: PhoenixStAr
kireiphoenix@hotmail.com
http://www.angelzhaven.cjb.net
'Bah,' Vegeta thought with contempt. Humans were just so
trite -- not to mention stupid, materialistic, and whimsical.
The woman had some nerve. How dare she deny him sex? "I'm
not in the mood," was her excuse. He sneered in
reminisce -- he had claimed her as his mate! She had no
right to refuse! But the saiyan had to admit, albeit
grudgingly, that Bulma had been acting odd lately, and
something told him it had nothing to do with her monthly fun
fests.
It all started last Saturday, when she had dragged him to the
mall with her. She had insisted that he needed new clothes,
he had refused, and she had threatened to cut off all the
power to the gravity chamber. Reminding her that he could
kill her in an instant, and cussing her out with style and
diplomacy that only a saiyan prince could possess, Vegeta
had finally agreed to go. To his chagrin, she had hooked
her arm around his and seemed more than ready to force her
'Veggie-chan' into every male clothing store in the mall.
However, to his surprise, she had come to a full stop almost
the very instant they stepped into the mall. They had halted
in front of a store display. He had thought sarcastically,
'There's no way she's getting me to wear something like that!'
The garment was white, frilly, and puffy -- not to mention it
was a dress. There was a glassy, far away look in the
woman's eyes, but that had immediately ceased to exist when
she finally noticed the look of disgust on her shopping
companion's face.
"I thought you said you looked fat in white."
Her spirits had plummeted, he knew, even if she had covered
it up well. She was his mate, though; there was no way she
could fool him. She had promptly dropped his arm from her
grip. "Why don't you go home and train? I just realised that
I have a deadline to rush." When they walked out of the mall,
he had moved to carry her, so that he could fly them home. She
had stepped away from his open arms, as if he were the plague.
"I don't feel so good," she had said. "I don't want to get air
sick..." Bulma had given him a weak smile and insisted that he
fly home; she would be fine walking home on her own.
She didn't return until a good five hours later.
Again, Vegeta sneered at the memory. The woman wasn't normally
so hypersensitive; he hadn't even actually insulted her that
time. Worse yet, she hadn't even fought back. It was a damn
dress! She should've bought it if she had really wanted it so
badly.
That same night, Vegeta had walked into the living room, on his
way to the kitchen, only to find Bulma surrounded by wads of
used kleenex and red, puffy eyes. By glancing at the
television, he could tell that she was watching some American
sitcom.
"Do you, Andrea, take this man to be your husband, through
sickness and health, till death do you part?" Vegeta had watched
as the buxom, overly made-up woman looked into the eyes of the
man standing next to her.
He had listened when she used a painfully bad attempt of a loving
whisper to respond, "I do."
It was at this point that Bulma had made a whimper and grabbed for
another box of tissues. She had then noticed Vegeta, and another
sob had made its way to her throat. Grabbing the tissues, she
had run out of the room, wiping her steadly increasing tears.
The saiyan had looked at her retreating form warily, almost
worriedly, when the TV caught his attention again.
"You may kiss the bride."
Vegeta rolled his eyes. 'Bah, the woman shouldn't watch American
sitcoms if she's going to blubber about it.' There was yet
another strange event, however.
There had been a day when he had gone into the kitchen for a snack,
only to find Bulma sitting at the kitchen table, idly circling and
crossing out items in a fat shopping catalogue. She had hid the
catalogue before getting up to make him some food, as he had kindly
demanded, but he had found it when she left afterwards. In a fat
red marker, she had circled a picture of something whose caption
read '14K Sterling Silver Engagement Ring.'
Was this what the woman was moping about? A scrap piece of metal
twisted into a circle? Vegeta rolled his eyes at the memory.
Humans were incredibly stupid. That ring couldn't have possibly
had any value. It couldn't have increased the woman's strength any,
nor did he believe it would increase her intelligence. What good
was a ring? Maybe it was a superstitious thing. With their
technology being as archaic as it was, humans did have a tendency
towards strange beliefs to make up for what they couldn't control.
He had lived on Earth for over 20 years now, and he still didn't
understand humans.
'What a bunch of fools.' Humans were so overly sensitive about
such stupid things. But yet, as he now watched his blue haired
woman sob to Kakarott's wife about some human thing called 'love,'
Vegeta couldn't help but feel responsible for those tears -- even
if he had no understanding why. And that knowledge caused pain in
his heart. With the obligatory curse at the woman for rendering
him weak, he stalked out of the house with a smirk on his face.
"Well, if that's what the woman wants..."
- * - * - * -
Bulma splashed her face with cold water again. Vegeta had been
out all night, and it had been a great relief to cry out her
problems to Chichi.
"It doesn't even matter," she berated herself in the mirror. "He's
lived with me for over 20 years, and he's dubbed me as his mate for
more than 15 of those years. That's probably the highest compliment
Veggie could pay me, anyway. I doubt Saiyans have even heard of the
term 'marriage,' not to mention 'love.' Who cares if socity sees me
as a single, old woman for the rest of my life?" The tears welled up
in her eyes agin. "No! I won't cry anymore. It's pointless." With
that statement in mind, Bulma dried her face and walked out into her
room. The doors to her balcony was open, and the gentle summer breeze
was making her curtains flutter. Thinking it strange, as she had not
opened the balcony doors, she approached it warily. To her surprise,
Vegeta was sitting on the railing of the balcony, with a large
package in his arms. The moon and the stars barely gave out enough
light for her to make out what he was holding. On her patio table
were two bottles of beer.
"You're going to fall and break your neck, you know," she admonished,
as she took in the sight of her prince. He had taken off the saiyan
armor, and was now just wearing his customary 'Bad Boy' shirt and form
fitting jeans.
"You forget who you're talking to, woman." Vegeta almost grinned at
the spark of anger that developed in her eyes upon being called
'woman.' He hadn't seen that spark in days. He hopped off the
railing and joined her at the table, grabbing a beer. "I hear this is
supposed to be done with champagne, but that stuff might as well have
no alcohol in it at all. I tried it out. It's complete tasteless,
sugary shit," he grimaced. "A beer is worth much more of your time."
He lifted his beer in salute to the woman in front of him before
taking a long swig.
Bulma broke out in her first smile in days. That was her Veggie-chan,
he never did like food that was too sweet. "What's supposed to be done
with champagne? What's important enough to make you try champagne?"
"It's not important to me." Vegeta took another gulp of his beer. He
then raised his eyebrow and looked her straight in the eye. "But I'm
guessing it's important to you." He slid a rather large package across
the table to her. "I really don't understand why you didn't buy it.
It's not like you donn't have enough money."
Carefully, she opened the package to reveal the intricately beaded
bodice of the wedding dress she had been admiring the other day.
"Veggie-chan..." she trailed off, smoothing her hand over the silky
material. "How did you pay for this? The allowance I give you for
food is barely enough --"
Vegeta cut her off. "Since whe did a saiyan prince have to pay for
anything?"
Speechless, she managed a shocked laugh. "You didn't!" Bulma wasn't
sure if she should be amused, or horrified. However flattered
was by the gift, though, her spirits still fell at the sight of a wedding
dress. "I don't have anywhere to wear it to, Veggie."
"Why not?"
She sighed, and gave her love another once over. His usually tense body
was relaxed, and his handsome features portrayed a mild curiosity. Sure,
if she asked him, she was sure she could get him to agree sooner or later,
but dragging someone to the altar was different from dragging someone to
the mall. "This is a wedding dress, Veggie," she stressed the word.
"You... you wouldn't understand."
Instead of pestering her with a long spiel about how he really didn't want
to understand human behavior anyway like he normally would, the saiyan
shrugged passively, and slid a small box towards Bulma.
He smirked as she raised an eyebrow at him. "How much looting have you
actually done tonight?" Not expecting an answer, she opened the box, and
couldn't help but gasp. "Veggie, this is..." It was a streling silver
wedding band, encrusted with sparkling diamonds. It was exactly the one
that she had circled out in a catalogue a few days ago, when she was
feeling fanciful. But...
"I believe the phrase I keep hearing on TV is 'Will you marry me?'"
Vegeta had shunned humans for being sensitive over completely trivial
things, but the look of complete happiness in Bulma's eyes made him
give human fancies a higher regard. He stood up to catch her as she
ran to hug him.
"It was what you wanted, ne, woman?" he mumbled in her hair. Vegeta
stroked her back to sooth her tears. "Come on, woman. Don't cry over
such trivial things."
By: PhoenixStAr
kireiphoenix@hotmail.com
http://www.angelzhaven.cjb.net
'Bah,' Vegeta thought with contempt. Humans were just so
trite -- not to mention stupid, materialistic, and whimsical.
The woman had some nerve. How dare she deny him sex? "I'm
not in the mood," was her excuse. He sneered in
reminisce -- he had claimed her as his mate! She had no
right to refuse! But the saiyan had to admit, albeit
grudgingly, that Bulma had been acting odd lately, and
something told him it had nothing to do with her monthly fun
fests.
It all started last Saturday, when she had dragged him to the
mall with her. She had insisted that he needed new clothes,
he had refused, and she had threatened to cut off all the
power to the gravity chamber. Reminding her that he could
kill her in an instant, and cussing her out with style and
diplomacy that only a saiyan prince could possess, Vegeta
had finally agreed to go. To his chagrin, she had hooked
her arm around his and seemed more than ready to force her
'Veggie-chan' into every male clothing store in the mall.
However, to his surprise, she had come to a full stop almost
the very instant they stepped into the mall. They had halted
in front of a store display. He had thought sarcastically,
'There's no way she's getting me to wear something like that!'
The garment was white, frilly, and puffy -- not to mention it
was a dress. There was a glassy, far away look in the
woman's eyes, but that had immediately ceased to exist when
she finally noticed the look of disgust on her shopping
companion's face.
"I thought you said you looked fat in white."
Her spirits had plummeted, he knew, even if she had covered
it up well. She was his mate, though; there was no way she
could fool him. She had promptly dropped his arm from her
grip. "Why don't you go home and train? I just realised that
I have a deadline to rush." When they walked out of the mall,
he had moved to carry her, so that he could fly them home. She
had stepped away from his open arms, as if he were the plague.
"I don't feel so good," she had said. "I don't want to get air
sick..." Bulma had given him a weak smile and insisted that he
fly home; she would be fine walking home on her own.
She didn't return until a good five hours later.
Again, Vegeta sneered at the memory. The woman wasn't normally
so hypersensitive; he hadn't even actually insulted her that
time. Worse yet, she hadn't even fought back. It was a damn
dress! She should've bought it if she had really wanted it so
badly.
That same night, Vegeta had walked into the living room, on his
way to the kitchen, only to find Bulma surrounded by wads of
used kleenex and red, puffy eyes. By glancing at the
television, he could tell that she was watching some American
sitcom.
"Do you, Andrea, take this man to be your husband, through
sickness and health, till death do you part?" Vegeta had watched
as the buxom, overly made-up woman looked into the eyes of the
man standing next to her.
He had listened when she used a painfully bad attempt of a loving
whisper to respond, "I do."
It was at this point that Bulma had made a whimper and grabbed for
another box of tissues. She had then noticed Vegeta, and another
sob had made its way to her throat. Grabbing the tissues, she
had run out of the room, wiping her steadly increasing tears.
The saiyan had looked at her retreating form warily, almost
worriedly, when the TV caught his attention again.
"You may kiss the bride."
Vegeta rolled his eyes. 'Bah, the woman shouldn't watch American
sitcoms if she's going to blubber about it.' There was yet
another strange event, however.
There had been a day when he had gone into the kitchen for a snack,
only to find Bulma sitting at the kitchen table, idly circling and
crossing out items in a fat shopping catalogue. She had hid the
catalogue before getting up to make him some food, as he had kindly
demanded, but he had found it when she left afterwards. In a fat
red marker, she had circled a picture of something whose caption
read '14K Sterling Silver Engagement Ring.'
Was this what the woman was moping about? A scrap piece of metal
twisted into a circle? Vegeta rolled his eyes at the memory.
Humans were incredibly stupid. That ring couldn't have possibly
had any value. It couldn't have increased the woman's strength any,
nor did he believe it would increase her intelligence. What good
was a ring? Maybe it was a superstitious thing. With their
technology being as archaic as it was, humans did have a tendency
towards strange beliefs to make up for what they couldn't control.
He had lived on Earth for over 20 years now, and he still didn't
understand humans.
'What a bunch of fools.' Humans were so overly sensitive about
such stupid things. But yet, as he now watched his blue haired
woman sob to Kakarott's wife about some human thing called 'love,'
Vegeta couldn't help but feel responsible for those tears -- even
if he had no understanding why. And that knowledge caused pain in
his heart. With the obligatory curse at the woman for rendering
him weak, he stalked out of the house with a smirk on his face.
"Well, if that's what the woman wants..."
- * - * - * -
Bulma splashed her face with cold water again. Vegeta had been
out all night, and it had been a great relief to cry out her
problems to Chichi.
"It doesn't even matter," she berated herself in the mirror. "He's
lived with me for over 20 years, and he's dubbed me as his mate for
more than 15 of those years. That's probably the highest compliment
Veggie could pay me, anyway. I doubt Saiyans have even heard of the
term 'marriage,' not to mention 'love.' Who cares if socity sees me
as a single, old woman for the rest of my life?" The tears welled up
in her eyes agin. "No! I won't cry anymore. It's pointless." With
that statement in mind, Bulma dried her face and walked out into her
room. The doors to her balcony was open, and the gentle summer breeze
was making her curtains flutter. Thinking it strange, as she had not
opened the balcony doors, she approached it warily. To her surprise,
Vegeta was sitting on the railing of the balcony, with a large
package in his arms. The moon and the stars barely gave out enough
light for her to make out what he was holding. On her patio table
were two bottles of beer.
"You're going to fall and break your neck, you know," she admonished,
as she took in the sight of her prince. He had taken off the saiyan
armor, and was now just wearing his customary 'Bad Boy' shirt and form
fitting jeans.
"You forget who you're talking to, woman." Vegeta almost grinned at
the spark of anger that developed in her eyes upon being called
'woman.' He hadn't seen that spark in days. He hopped off the
railing and joined her at the table, grabbing a beer. "I hear this is
supposed to be done with champagne, but that stuff might as well have
no alcohol in it at all. I tried it out. It's complete tasteless,
sugary shit," he grimaced. "A beer is worth much more of your time."
He lifted his beer in salute to the woman in front of him before
taking a long swig.
Bulma broke out in her first smile in days. That was her Veggie-chan,
he never did like food that was too sweet. "What's supposed to be done
with champagne? What's important enough to make you try champagne?"
"It's not important to me." Vegeta took another gulp of his beer. He
then raised his eyebrow and looked her straight in the eye. "But I'm
guessing it's important to you." He slid a rather large package across
the table to her. "I really don't understand why you didn't buy it.
It's not like you donn't have enough money."
Carefully, she opened the package to reveal the intricately beaded
bodice of the wedding dress she had been admiring the other day.
"Veggie-chan..." she trailed off, smoothing her hand over the silky
material. "How did you pay for this? The allowance I give you for
food is barely enough --"
Vegeta cut her off. "Since whe did a saiyan prince have to pay for
anything?"
Speechless, she managed a shocked laugh. "You didn't!" Bulma wasn't
sure if she should be amused, or horrified. However flattered
was by the gift, though, her spirits still fell at the sight of a wedding
dress. "I don't have anywhere to wear it to, Veggie."
"Why not?"
She sighed, and gave her love another once over. His usually tense body
was relaxed, and his handsome features portrayed a mild curiosity. Sure,
if she asked him, she was sure she could get him to agree sooner or later,
but dragging someone to the altar was different from dragging someone to
the mall. "This is a wedding dress, Veggie," she stressed the word.
"You... you wouldn't understand."
Instead of pestering her with a long spiel about how he really didn't want
to understand human behavior anyway like he normally would, the saiyan
shrugged passively, and slid a small box towards Bulma.
He smirked as she raised an eyebrow at him. "How much looting have you
actually done tonight?" Not expecting an answer, she opened the box, and
couldn't help but gasp. "Veggie, this is..." It was a streling silver
wedding band, encrusted with sparkling diamonds. It was exactly the one
that she had circled out in a catalogue a few days ago, when she was
feeling fanciful. But...
"I believe the phrase I keep hearing on TV is 'Will you marry me?'"
Vegeta had shunned humans for being sensitive over completely trivial
things, but the look of complete happiness in Bulma's eyes made him
give human fancies a higher regard. He stood up to catch her as she
ran to hug him.
"It was what you wanted, ne, woman?" he mumbled in her hair. Vegeta
stroked her back to sooth her tears. "Come on, woman. Don't cry over
such trivial things."
