ATTENTION!!!!! in case you didn't read my first author's note, you don't have to read this one. just go on to the next ch. but if u do decide to read it, it had humor in it and there are some really cute parts and some ::ahem:: steamy parts...well not like adult steamy but, well you'll know when ya get there
P.S! remember, this is wut got me going to the actual plot/story, so it won't be as good. but it's still good!
Vegeta saw Goku looking back and forth from him to Bulma, and laugh hysterically while this strange person stood talking to Kakarotto. Vegeta scowled. He didn't like this. Something was up.
Turning his gaze to Bulma, he wondered what Goku could have possibly been thinking. He was looking upon her longer than he liked, but before he could remove his eyes from the onna, she turned her head and gazed imploringly at him.
"What?" she asked hastily, forcing herself to make a face.
"Stupid onna." he muttered to himself, turning away and trying to determine what was being said between the two far away. Oh he was
trying . . .
***
"Daddy! But why?!" Bulma exclaimed. Her father had just told her how a certain saiyen was going to stay at Capsule Corp. to train for the anxious arrival of the androids.
"Bulma, honey, he needs a place to train. We need all the help we can get from what I've heard of these 'androids' strength."
"No we don't!" she protested. "We have Goku and Gohon and Trunks
and . . ."
"Sorry Bulma, but I can't deny him of this. Have you seen the biceps on that man . . .?"
"Dad!"
"Why don't you want him staying here anyways?" he inquired.
She folded her arms, turning her face away, and pushed out her bottom lip as if to pout. "He's a brute."
***
Bulma was folding her laundry and putting her clean clothes away, humming to the blasts and booms coming from the gravity machine. Ok, so she didn't particularly like the gravity machine and Vegeta's continuous training, but house chores bored her; and besides, she was becoming used to the maniacal sounds from outside.
She picked up a lacy undergarment and started to fold it, and then with a "What the hell" gave up and tossed it into the drawer. Bulma dug into the laundry basket, searching for more underwear so she could happily throw them into the drawer, when she heard a particularly loud boom and metal falling to the ground.
Grrrreeaaaat, she thought miserably. Well, at least I'll be outside while I work on the Gravity machine this time, she thought, getting tired of the house. I guess I better see if the "Prince" is all right.
Walking outside, she found a giant whole in the Gravity machine, and sighed in a pre-exhaustion of just thinking about the work needed.
Bulma walked up the short 'flight' of stairs and tried the door. Locked. She began to frown. "Vegeta!" she yelled. No one came to the door. Her frown deepened, getting a little irritated. "Vegeta! Unlock the door!"
A barely audible groan came to her ears. "Vegeta?" she called again, a tad bit of concern played in her voice.
She walked around to the giant hole, and growled out of frustration at how her day was going so far. She then proceeded to climb into the machine. She didn't have to look very hard, for the Prince of all Saiyens was lying smack dab in the middle of the chamber, looking pretty terrible from Bulma's opinion.
She hurried to him and cautiously poked a finger into his side. She heard a muffle. Poking again, his hand came up, grasping her finger. "Decease onna!" he tried to command, given his lack of strength and raspy voice.
"It's Bulma to you mister, and you shouldn't have pushed yourself this far." she reprimanded, and then muttered, "Saiyens."
Bulma just looked at him as if waiting for a request for help, but he kept his mouth shut; pride always the interference. Growing impatient, she finally said, "Well you're gonna have to help me at least a little cause I sure can't carry your monkey butt back to the house by myself!"
"Shut your yapping onna." he mumbled, wrapping his arm around her neck, getting up from the floor.
"It's Bulma." she said softly, using most of her efforts in escorting his muscled butt to the house.
She unlocked the door, afraid of injuring him more by taking the route she had come in. Bulma smiled as she allowed herself a fleeting moment of watching herself toss Vegeta onto the ground and climbing down herself, but came back to reality when the saiyen groaned once more.
She sighed, opening the door and climbing down the steps with what little help he offered her, and thought, "So this is my life." and surprised herself when she couldn't think of any other future besides carrying Vegeta and nursing him back to health. She scoffed at herself, thinking herself absurd, but she couldn't afford to think of things like that at the moment, for Vegeta was becoming too heavy.
"Wait," Bulma protested. "I need to stop." Vegeta's answer was but a mumble as she laid him down on the cool grass, but his protest was not heard.
Bulma flopped down next to him, willing her strength back. After a pause, she heard the man groan, "Perhaps you should train yourself if you are so weak that you can't carry a grown man."
"Perhaps you should not get into situations like this to where you need someone to carry you." she shot back, pleased with herself in the comeback.
He scowled, his pride wounded.
"Come on you big lug. 'Tis starting to rain."
Vegeta opened his eyes, and looked at the gray clouds in the sky. "I hate this planet." he complained to himself, as Bulma picked him up, not meaning for her to overhear, but she did.
"So leave. No one's stopping you." she remarked as they walked into the house.
There was a pang in his gut that he deeply disliked as she said this, but he shrugged it off, thinking it as an injury. But his scowl deepened anyway as she half carried him upstairs.
Bulma looked at the long hallway; Vegeta's room was the furthest one, but hers was the nearest, and he was even heavier than before. As she turned towards her room, opening the door, Vegeta asked, "Why are we going in here."
"Because it's closer and I would have to drag your behind the rest of the way if we went to your room."
Getting tired of being carried, he stopped his protesting and let her place him on her bed . . .with his help of course.
Bulma could have smacked herself for forgetting that he was bleeding. Silently saying Duh, she started to check him over.
Vegeta could feel her soft fingers running over the course of his body, and he wished she would stop and leave him alone. He was growing uncomfortable, but he pushed the feeling away, his scowl deepening even more so.
Bulma was relieved that he wasn't bleeding anywhere on his back -including the back of his head arms or legs- but he did have some wounds on the front. They weren't bleeding heavily so if she hurried to dress them, her sheets wouldn't be ruined.
Bulma went out of the room and quickly returned with bandages in hand. She found Vegeta with his eyes closed and prayed that he was asleep; not in the mood for his comments.
She took the gauge and started to wrap the wounds after cleaning them.
Despite himself, Vegeta made a sharp intake of breath when his nurse touched a particularly nasty cut. Bulma grinned to herself and continued her work.
With his ribs broken and bleeding wounds and sore muscles, Vegeta felt like a mummy. But he was already planning on how to improve and increase his training schedule. Wasn't really a schedule. More like a train-all-day-and-all-night kind of schedule. But he HAD to become a super-saiyen. HAD to become more powerful then Kakarotto.
Right before he fell asleep, he noticed the slight haze of a three-quarter moon coming into view.
***
The next morning, Vegeta woke with things being thrown at him, and found that he had a whole closet of clothes on top of him (more were being thrown from Bulma, obviously searching for something).
"Where is my tank top?!" she asked herself in frustration. She growled and picked up a shoe, ready to throw it behind her onto Vegeta, and much to his relief, she dropped it with an, "Ah ha!" and picked up a red, low-cut tank-top.
She tore the shirt she was already wearing over her head (while Vegeta watched through a half-open eye) and replaced it with the red tank-top. With her back still turned towards him, Bulma looked into her vanity and messed with her hair as she quietly sang, "I'm goin out with Yamcha . . ."
Vegeta frowned; he never really did like Yamcha much anyways. Weakling.
She was now putting on some make-up, and was all smiles. Much to his displeasure she was giggling. How was he supposed to get any sleep?
While Bulma began to put on eye-liner, a phone the ugliest yellow Vegeta had ever seen, rang on her vanity. Stopping, she picked up the receiver. Vegeta's sensitive hearing picked up the whole conversation.
"Bulma?"
"Yamcha?"
"Yeah Babe, listen, I'm not gonna be able to make it to dinner tonight."
"Why not?! Yamcha, it's our anniversary!"
"I know Babe, listen, I gotta go. I'll be home late, so don't wait up."
"Late? Yamcha what are you doing?" Vegeta could hear the unmistakable sound of a dial tone. "Yamcha? Yamcha?" In rage, she slammed the phone down and said angrily, "As if I would wait up for your ass anyway!"
Behind her, Bulma heard a sound, and then soon realized that it was coming from on her bed. Chuckling. With a menacing look on her face, Bulma reached down and grabbed a shoe, and threw it as hard as she could at the injured man.
***
That night, Bulma sat on the couch with her best friends Ben & Jerry, wooing her sorrows to the spoon, when she heard the creek of the stairs. Inwardly groaning, she got up from the couch -setting her ice cream on the table- and braced herself for a fight (hands on her hips).
"Just what do you think you're doing mister?" she asked in an accusing tone when Vegeta reached the end of the stairs (obviously thinking he was sneaking out).
"Going to train, onna." he answered gruffly, trying not to show just how much effort it took for him to walk from the top of the stairs to the bottom.
"Oh no you're not!" she said, doing her best to stare him down.
"You're not my mother." he shot back, trying to keep some of his dignity from leaking out of his body.
"I'm relieved of that, BUT, I am 'taking care of you,' so you had best do what I say!" Bulma threatened.
"I don't need taken care of and I don't take orders from Earthlings. Especially WOMEN EARTHLINGS!" Vegeta bellowed.
"Well," she went on, ignoring his obvious stupidity. "you can't train anyway, because I have not fixed the gravity machine yet."
Vegeta's scowl deepened. "Well fix it then!"
To Bulma's horrible dismay, she felt tears welling in her eyes as she said, "It's too late at night, and if I wanted to do it, I certainly wouldn't do it on my anniversary. I'd be out ha'ing funnnn wit Yuuumcha . . ." -sniff- "an' dancinggg and . . .an' par'yiiinggg, an . . ." The rest was lost in a screeching wail, and Vegeta watched horrified at the sight of her twisted face and tears flowing freely. He almost covered his ears, but that would have given her satisfaction . . .if she could see through water-filled, half open eyes.
Bulma finally stopped wailing. She walked over to the couch, picked up her ice-cream, slumped into the couch, sobbing and pouting, and drowned her sorrows into the "Grandma Style Cookie-Dough."
***
Vegeta struggled down the stairs (having lost most of his energy from last night, trying desperately to train, only having been stopped by Bulma and her screeching). He heard the steps creek, and looked up to find Bulma on them.
"What are you doing?" she inquired, eyeing the swim trunks he wore suspiciously.
"Going to the hot tub, onna."
"Why?" she asked after a beat.
"Figure it out yourself." he said, clutching to the railing trying to regain his balance. Damn this is embarrassing.
"Well, here, you need help." she said, going up the rest of the stairs, closing off the distance between them.
He scowled. "I don't need help." Vegeta answered.
Bulma thought fast.
She faked a trip on the steps and said, "Woa! I got a dizzy spell. I think I need YOUR help." And with an obvious smile, she put his arm around her shoulders. He grumbled all the way.
But that's why he tolerated the onna. Ok ok, that's why he actually liked the onna. Even through their screaming and hollering and banter, she still new what to do with him, and make the best of his hard-to-win personality.
He really needed that hot tub.
After getting him in the sana, Bulma disappeared and came back shortly in an orange, 2-piece bikini.
Vegeta's arms were resting on the concrete above the hot tub (A/N: biceps bulging I might add O.o), and his eyes were closed, letting the warmth seep into his muscles. When he heard a slight splashing, he popped one eye open to see Bulma slowly get into the water.
He opened his mouth to ask, "What are you doing?" but watching her poking around like a cat, annoyance got the better of him, and he reached up and grabbed an ankle that was testing the water, and yanked.
He closed his eye, trying to relax again, but got a wave of water right in his face. He opened his eyes to find a steaming (well, literally also) Bulma, looking furiously at him.
He evilly chuckled, you know, when he laughs at a weakling he's just about to kill. [ ;) ]
"Hmph." Bulma sat back, crossing her arms.
"Soooo, you enjoying yourself here so far?" Bulma asked after awhile, sitting in silence.
Vegeta grunted, and she took that as an "Okay."
"You worried about the androids?" she asked, trying to get him talking.
An evil grin slid across his face.
"Guess you're not." she mumbled. "How long you think it'll be before you recover?"
"Onna, be quiet. I'm growing weary of the questions."
There was a long silence following, and then . . .
"So how long are you gonna' stay in here?"
Vegeta groaned in frustration, and turned to prop himself out of the sauna, when he was met with a pair of feet. Looking up, he saw Yamcha towering over him, and he snarled.
"Bulma! What are you doing here with this . . .this monkey!" Yamcha exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Vegeta.
"I'm relaxing." she said pointedly. "And what are YOU doing here, mister?"
"I came to check up on you."
"Why didn't you come to check up on me last night?" she asked.
"Don't get an attitude with me Bulma." he whined. "I'm not in the mood." Then to himself he said, "My head hurts."
Bulma overheard that last part. "Well MAYBE if you had been with me on our anniversary like we were supposed to, then you wouldn't have a hangover!" Yamcha winced at her loud voice; including the saiyen (super-sensitive hearing!) "What were you doin? Screwin some scanky hoe?!"
"Honey, it wasn't like that." he protested.
"Yamcha," Bulma said, lifting herself out of the water. "It's over. Last night you showed me just how meaningful our relationship is to you."
Yamcha had been staring at Bulma's chest the whole time, but her words shook him back to the real world. "But honey!" he pleaded. "Can't we just kiss and make up?" he asked, his eyes going down to her chest again.
"Yamcha! You ass!" she screamed. Bulma went to a chair and snatched a baggy, white T-shirt and put it on.
"I've seen 'em before!" he protested, but when she gave him a nasty look he took both her hands in his and said more soothingly, "Babe, you've never been jealous before. Plus, I didn't even cheat on you. Now tell me what this is all about."
He was lying. She knew that. But saying he did when she couldn't prove anything wasn't going to shut him up and make him understand they were through. The truth was, she was tired of this relationship anyway. It was so boring. She wanted something exciting.
Bulma searched for a way out. Searched for something that would make him leave, make him finally come to terms that their long-term relationship was finally over.
She spotted Vegeta in the hot tub.
"I'm in love with Vegeta." she blurted out, looking up at him desperately.
Vegeta's eyes popped open. He had been listening silently the whole time.
"WHAT?!!!" Yamcha yelled.
"That's right. I love Vegeta. I have, ever since I saw him on Namek."
Namek?
"You told me he was 'scary' on Namek." Yamcha said suspiciously.
Scary?
"There's always something sexy about a dangerous man."
"And I'm not dangerous enough for you?"
"Nope." Bulma said truthfully.
Yamcha paused, and he seemed to be pondering something. After a minute he looked back at Bulma and said, "I don't believe you."
"Don't believe me about what?" Bulma asked innocently.
"That you love Vegeta. If you did then . . .then . . .you'd prove it."
This can't be good.
"Yamcha, what are you talking about?"
"If you love Vegeta, prove it. Kiss him."
The heat must be getting to me. I've stayed in too long.
Bulma stared at Yamcha for a moment, and then walked defiantly over to the hot tub.
Vegeta watched Bulma jump in, the now see-through, white shirt clinging to every curve. He just sat there, the only time in his Adult-life when he didn't know what to do.
He finally decided to play along (since it would hurt Yamcha), when he realized Bulma was straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Vegeta watched as she bent her head down and tentatively pressed her lips to his.
Bulma deepened the kiss as she felt Vegeta's muscular arms wrap around her. Bulma almost broke the kiss in shock, when his tongue invaded her mouth.
He's kissing me back???
But any other thoughts quickly vanished as she was lost in feeling. Her hand was placed at the nape of his neck, caressing the soft, black hair. She had never been kissed like this. Never had the passion when Yamcha kissed her, and she started to moan, but quickly doused that instinct. This was going too far.
Why is he still kissing me??
Bulma pushed away to the other side of the hot tub, fast. Yamcha was gone, and she barely remembered hearing a door slam.
Bulma's face was red, and Vegeta had suspicions that it wasn't just from the heat of the hot tub.
She looked down, and blushing deeper she mumbled, "Sorry."
His only response was, "Scary?"
She looked up to see his face unemotional, expressionless.
"Well," Bulma started, not knowing where to begin. "You was on the bad side at the beginning. You could have killed us." she shrugged.
"But I didn't."
Bulma was shocked once more. This didn't sound like Vegeta. "Yeah, why is that?"
"I was feeling merciful at the time."
"Oh."