...........................................................................................LITTLE BLACK DRESS
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
From her perch on the arm of the uncomfortable couch in Goku's living room, Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed, bored out of her mind. She was dressed in her favorite pair of perfectly faded jeans and a flowery peasant top that was hardly suited the chilly late-autumn temperatures. Her hair was loosely pulled up, allowing strands to hang out here and there. Somehow she managed to pull the look off, though she had never doubted her ability to.
"Touchdown!" Goku shouted, jumping off of the crowded couch and doing a ridiculous victory dance. "Ha, Vejita!"
"I should be the one celebrating," Vejita said smugly, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Personal foul on the offense. You and your pathetic losing team are screwed." He smirked as the referree called the penalty and Goku settled back into the couch, his expression grim.
Even Saiyan men can't resist televised sports, Bulma mused. How they can survive watching an entire game in one sitting is beyond me, especially when Vejita can't even sit through a mere ten minutes of one of MY shows.
"Who do you think is gonna nail this one, B-chan?" Goku asked her, oblivious to the fact that she had no idea what the hell was going on.
Bulma smiled at her friend apologetically. "I don't mean to take sides, Goku, but I'm with Vejita. I've seen him win too many of your little bets to deny it."
Vejita raised an eyebrow at Bulma, who, ironically, had been seated on the arm right next to him. It was especially hard to focus on the game with her in such close proximity, he was noticing. Especially with the nearly transparent top she was sporting. He went along on that train of thought without even thinking twice. As her heard more of she and Goku's history, he was baffled as to why Goku had chosen plain, predictable Chichi as his mate over Bulma. He supposed it was because Bulma intimidated Goku, and he could hardly blame him. She could definitely be a little spitfire, to say the least. If Goku were a REAL Saiyan things would have ended up very differently, of that he was certain.
The prince's train of thought was broken as the front door slammed and sounds of idiotic laughter reached his ears. He felt Bulma tense beside him and watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Yamcha must be one of the visitors, he observed. She was as stiff as a board, her eyes were blank, and a determined expression had crossed her face. Tearing his eyes away from her, he saw that he had been correct in his assumptions. Yamcha, Krillen, and the green Namekian freak had arrived, carrying various snack items. Vejita immediately noticed that there was hardly enough to go around and fleetingly imagined himself shoving the shortage of junk food down Yamcha's throat.
The seating arrangement was the first thing that Yamcha noticed as he entered the living room. Though Bulma was no longer his girl and there had been some bitter words between them, he still cared for her, and hated to see her so close to their evil neighborhood prince. Knowing better, he restrained himself from commenting and instead made himself maintain his friendly smile. He was, after all, here to watch football, not to sulk about Bulma and Vejita's strange relationship.
"I thought that I'd never see the day when the Namek lowered himself to watching football with the 'gang'," Vejita quipped, that vicious smirk on his face once again.
Piccolo was not amused. "I could say the same about you, Saiyan."
Bulma smacked Vejita on the shoulder and offered a warm smile. "Its been too long, Piccolo. How are, well, things?" she asked, pointing to the sky.
Piccolo regarded the human girl and Saiyan Prince. Until now he had hardly been able to believe what had been going on down on Earth. "Interesting as of late."
Bulma quirked a brow but wisely did not comment. Rather than acknowledge Yamcha, she turned back around and pretended to be focused on the halftime show.
"Hey guys, its halftime so we're gonna go out and see how Bulma's shooting skills are holding up!" Goku exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and seizing Bulma's hand. Piccolo, ever observent, noticed Vejita narrow his eyes defensively and allowed himself a smug smile. "Come on!"
Bulma pulled a capsule out of her pocket and rolled it between her fingers uncertainly. "I don't know about my skills anymore, Goku. Its been awhile since I've done this."
Goku waved off her protest and dragged her outside, followed by the rest of the gang, minus Chichi, who had remained absent the entire time, much to Bulma's relief. Bulma opened the capsule and examined the small pile of automatics of her own invention at her feet. Vejita pushed his way to her side and picked up the largest gun in the pile, turning it over in his hands.
"There is no way in hell that I'm missing out on this," he said, adjusting the settings on the gun easily.
Yamcha, ever competitive, also stepped forward and chose the second largest gun, much to Vejita's amusement. "Neither am I!"
Bulma stroked her favorite handgun absently, remembering how powerful it was in spite of its modest size, lost in her childhood memories while Goku set up three targets. "Here we go..." she whispered, eyeing the target with a trained eye.
"At the count of three," Goku said.
Vejita, ignoring him, lifted his gun and hit a bullseye effortlessly, smirking in triumph. "Damn I'm good..."
"Shit!" Yamcha's bullet clipped the outside of the target. He scowled in response to Vejita's bragging.
Both men turned to watch Bulma, who was lining up her shot carefully. Much to their surprise, her bullet hit dead center on the first try. Yamcha offered a thumbs up but was promptly ignored. Vejita, however, opened himself up to the challenge.
"You think you're good?" he challenged. "Watch this."
All eyes were on Vejita was he took aim and successfully dotted the 'i' in 'Nike' on Yamcha's flapping jacket. The shocked baseball player jumped about four seconds too late, glaring at Vejita with obvious rage. "You--you SHOT at me, you asshole!"
"Nice shot, eh?" Vejita said wickedly, tossing his gun back into the pile and grinning crookedly as it went off, causing everyone to start once again.
"Kami," Bulma breathed, exasperated with the Saiyan. She aimed and doubled the size of his hole on Yamcha's jacket, much to her ex's dismay. "I think that's a draw. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"Don't be stupid, woman," he replied. "Saiyans do not restrict their fighting to ki's."
Bulma snorted. "I find that hard to believe, considering a typical Saiyan's brain capacity," she muttered to herself.
"You're half right," Vejita said smugly. She had forgotten his Saiyan hearing. "We stole the technology, most of the time."
"You shut up!" she snarled hotly, storing the guns back into the capsule and stuffing it into her bra, much to the men's amusement. "I'm getting sick of this. Besides, its cold!"
Goku smiled as she stomped back into his house. "Its really great to see her back to her normal self!" He looked at Vejita quizzically. "What changed her?"
"She went shopping, Kakkarott," the other Saiyan pointed out, avoiding Goku's eyes. "Doesn't that put just about every woman back into her element?"
Yamcha stepped forward, pointing at Vejita accusingly. "What happened, you liar?! What did you do to her?"
The prince smirked. "Trust me, if I had done something she would be a hell of a lot happier than THAT. I'll excuse your stupidity though, because you obviously know nothing about pleasing a woman."
Vejita put himself on the defensive as Yamcha charged blindly at him, prepared for the awkward attack. The others winced helplessly as he flung him over his head and delivered a swift blow to Yamcha's gut without any effort. Yamcha remained on the ground, writhing in pain.
"That's what you get, you fool!" Vejita growled, standing over the human unsympathetically. "The next time you attack me I will not be so merciful."
"Come on Vejita," Goku scolded as he rushed to Yamcha's side. "You didn't have to be so harsh."
"I do not need you to tell me what to do!" Vejita crossed his arms and scowled. "Leave him alone. Even he isn't pussy enough to need help from you."
Yamcha sat up slowly, glaring at Vejita. "If I hear about you laying even a hand on her, I'll kill you!"
"An empty threat," Vejita replied. "Giving me a bruise is beyond your abilities. The woman could kick your ass, most likely. You have obviously not been training as of late."
"That's enough Vejita," Piccolo said. "You've done more than your share already. I think it would be a good idea to get back inside now."
"Halftime's probably almost over," Krillen offered timidly, with a quick glance at Vejita, whose silent anger was apparent.
As if on cue, Bulma stepped out of the house and called to them impatiently. "Game's back on!" Then, noticing Yamcha on the ground, she furrowed her eyebrows in puzzlement. "What's going on?"
"Just a little male bonding," Yamcha called back, grimacing in pain. He looked at Goku, quiet anger shining in his brown eyes. "There's no sense in upsetting her."
As he passed, Vejita gave Yamcha the most malicious look he had ever received. It was a sure sign that things were not over between the two headstrong men.
"Why was Yamcha on the ground today?" Bulma asked, tightening her desperate grip around Vejita's neck. This would be the last time he flew her ANYWHERE. Even afer slowing down twice they were still at a breakneck speed. And high up. VERY high up. "You don't have to lie to me, I'm not stupid, okay? Yamcha doesn't get bruises from slipping and falling on Goku's nice grassy lawn."
Vejita scowled, uncertain what to tell her. Though he hated to admit it, Yamcha had been right about not mentioning anything to Bulma. She was having a hard enough time getting over him without this little bit of encouragement. The prince hated himself for even bothering to spare her feelings. "Stop acting so damned suspicious, woman. My allowing you to fall to a painful death IS a possibility."
"Oh, fuck off..." she whined. "You wouldn't drop me."
Vejita could not resist the temptation a moment more. He suddenly and deliberately released his hold on her and smirked as she slid, screaming, out of his arms and plummeted the ground below. He allowed her to fall a good two hundred feet before retreiving her.
She was silent as she shifted her position, her cheeks red in anger. Vejita was just about to say something to her when he was smacked with surprising, if not weak, force across the face, causing him to drop Bulma once again. This time, she did not scream.
"Dammit, woman!" Vejita protested once he had collected her again. "What the hell was that for? If you were killed I'd have to attend your funeral, and I cannot spare that kind of time from my training."
"Its nice to know that I'm held in such high regard." She remained strangely silent until they touched down on the Capsule Corps lawn. The girl sighed, happy to be safely on the ground again. "Thank Kami that trip is over. You are so inconsiderate."
"Consider yourself lucky. If you had been anyone else I would have let you fall to your death."
"So this means that I'm not just anybody?" Bulma's tone was teasing, but it was a serious question.
Vejita snorted. "Of course you aren't. You fix my gravity room."
Bulma huffed indignantly and put her hands on her hips. "You know, Vejita, being alone for the rest of your long Saiyan life is not going to be fun."
"Who ever said that I was looking for company?"
"I wasn't saying that! I was just pointing out that if you continue being so cold to everyone you meet, even someone you've been LIVING with, then that's how your life is gonna turn out." Bulma glared at him with her hard blue eyes and then proceeded to the house, shaking her head.
"The same could be said for you," Vejita shouted after her, angry at her prying comments. "You're as bad as a lovesick puppy and you know it."
Bulma didn't turn around but waved off his true (?) comment and entered the house, mulling over his words. She knew that he was right, of course, but she wasn't about to admit anything to him. It was, after all, none of his royal business. She slipped off her shoes and padded to the kitchen, where her mother was busy chopping vegetables for dinner. The woman did not look up as Bulma took a seat at the table and stared blankly at the wall.
"Did you have a nice time?" her mother asked, still chopping away. "Where's Vejita?"
Bulma considered her answer. She could either snap at her mother or reply truthfully. She found the former to be too tiring, and predictable. She wasn't about to prove Vejita's assumptions correct. "It was going smoothly until Yamcha showed up perfectly fine and left with battle scars left by some unknown force. As for Vejita, who knows? Probably in the gravity room."
"Your hair looks a little tousled, and your clothes are all out of place" Mrs. Briefs commented, a mischevious twinkle in her eye. "Did something happen between you and our prince that I should know about?"
"Yes, he dropped me. Twice." Bulma grabbed a carrot and snapped it in half uncerimoniously, contemplating eating it.
"Oh, dear. I suppose it'll take more than good food and a gravity room to tame that man."
"No shit," Bulma said. A guarded expression passed over her face. "Hey Mom, do you think that...well, that..." She trailed off uncertainly, snapping the carrot into smaller and smaller sections.
"What?" Mrs. Briefs pressed, interested in spite of herself.
"That I'm acting like a lovesick schoolgirl?" Bulma finally blurted, shoving the carrot pieces into her mouth to stop herself from asking any more embarrassing questions.
"Who pointed that out to you?"
"Vejita--who else?"
Mrs. Briefs smiled and looked up from the vegetables. "Well, once you put it that way...I suppose so. Don't beat yourself up about it, dear. Just take some steps to stop it, and your sorrow will simply...blow over. You've gotten over all of the other times you two have broken up."
"But this time, its final," Bulma said sadly, staring down at her hands. "I guess it wasn't so much the break-up, it was Yamcha's reasons for it."
"Care to elaborate?"
Bulma frowned and a shadow came over her face. "He said that all I think about is partying and...things." Her eyes narrowed. "I suppose its true. But I haven't done very much since then, and he just wouldn't let me explain myself. He wouldn't give me a second chance."
Mrs. Briefs' voice became serious. She knew what her daughter had been getting into. "Your relationship has been full of second chances. Eventually, your chances will run out, and there is nothing that you or Yamcha can do about that. You have your whole lives ahead of you, and neither of you need these kinds of distractions."
"I guess you're right," Bulma admitted. "I've been cutting down, its just that its so hard. Its so--addicting."
"Let's not discuss that please," her mother said. "I most certainly do not need those kinds of thoughts about my daughter floating around in my head."
"Bullshit, Mom. Its only crack."
"Yes, just like Vejita's beating himself up into a bloody pulp is only training!" The woman completed her chopping and tossed her knife into the sink, where it was immediately cleaned by one of Dr. Briefs' robots. "Speaking of Vejita, I'm surprised its taken him this long to come and interrogate me about dinner. I wonder what's on his mind?"
Bulma slid off of her chair and ran a hand over her hair. "I'm going to change. Call for me when dinner's ready."
Mrs. Briefs nodded and leaned against the counter, lost in her thoughts already.
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(A/N): Is Mrs. Briefs suspecting something? Does she know something that Bulma does not? Find out next time in another exciting chapter of....nevermind. Anyhow for those of you who do not know yet, I have posted the prologue of my next fic, "Youth of the Nation", just to give you all a little taste of what's next. I don't expect to add onto it until this one is completed, though, sorry! It won't be too much longer, guys, don't fret. Do not be scared away by the prologue--the rest of the story won't be so dark, it'll be more like a normal (somewhat) high school fic. To VegetasWifey--even with my limited experience with goths, I would have never guessed your true identity! LoL! I'm kidding...that's okay, whatever floats your boat I guess! Anyways please remember to review so I can feel remotely special and get some motivation to continue...mwhahahhaaahahaa! Btw---Stef-Chan you are the best reviewer in the entire world!!! Thanks for inflating my ego....the compliments were great! All I ask is to write a fic that could be half as good as one of yours! LoL! Thanks soooo much I'll try to keep those one-liners/aerobic room scenes coming...of course Bulma is self-conscious about her figure...she's not invincible you know! Thanks so much!
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.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
From her perch on the arm of the uncomfortable couch in Goku's living room, Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed, bored out of her mind. She was dressed in her favorite pair of perfectly faded jeans and a flowery peasant top that was hardly suited the chilly late-autumn temperatures. Her hair was loosely pulled up, allowing strands to hang out here and there. Somehow she managed to pull the look off, though she had never doubted her ability to.
"Touchdown!" Goku shouted, jumping off of the crowded couch and doing a ridiculous victory dance. "Ha, Vejita!"
"I should be the one celebrating," Vejita said smugly, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Personal foul on the offense. You and your pathetic losing team are screwed." He smirked as the referree called the penalty and Goku settled back into the couch, his expression grim.
Even Saiyan men can't resist televised sports, Bulma mused. How they can survive watching an entire game in one sitting is beyond me, especially when Vejita can't even sit through a mere ten minutes of one of MY shows.
"Who do you think is gonna nail this one, B-chan?" Goku asked her, oblivious to the fact that she had no idea what the hell was going on.
Bulma smiled at her friend apologetically. "I don't mean to take sides, Goku, but I'm with Vejita. I've seen him win too many of your little bets to deny it."
Vejita raised an eyebrow at Bulma, who, ironically, had been seated on the arm right next to him. It was especially hard to focus on the game with her in such close proximity, he was noticing. Especially with the nearly transparent top she was sporting. He went along on that train of thought without even thinking twice. As her heard more of she and Goku's history, he was baffled as to why Goku had chosen plain, predictable Chichi as his mate over Bulma. He supposed it was because Bulma intimidated Goku, and he could hardly blame him. She could definitely be a little spitfire, to say the least. If Goku were a REAL Saiyan things would have ended up very differently, of that he was certain.
The prince's train of thought was broken as the front door slammed and sounds of idiotic laughter reached his ears. He felt Bulma tense beside him and watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Yamcha must be one of the visitors, he observed. She was as stiff as a board, her eyes were blank, and a determined expression had crossed her face. Tearing his eyes away from her, he saw that he had been correct in his assumptions. Yamcha, Krillen, and the green Namekian freak had arrived, carrying various snack items. Vejita immediately noticed that there was hardly enough to go around and fleetingly imagined himself shoving the shortage of junk food down Yamcha's throat.
The seating arrangement was the first thing that Yamcha noticed as he entered the living room. Though Bulma was no longer his girl and there had been some bitter words between them, he still cared for her, and hated to see her so close to their evil neighborhood prince. Knowing better, he restrained himself from commenting and instead made himself maintain his friendly smile. He was, after all, here to watch football, not to sulk about Bulma and Vejita's strange relationship.
"I thought that I'd never see the day when the Namek lowered himself to watching football with the 'gang'," Vejita quipped, that vicious smirk on his face once again.
Piccolo was not amused. "I could say the same about you, Saiyan."
Bulma smacked Vejita on the shoulder and offered a warm smile. "Its been too long, Piccolo. How are, well, things?" she asked, pointing to the sky.
Piccolo regarded the human girl and Saiyan Prince. Until now he had hardly been able to believe what had been going on down on Earth. "Interesting as of late."
Bulma quirked a brow but wisely did not comment. Rather than acknowledge Yamcha, she turned back around and pretended to be focused on the halftime show.
"Hey guys, its halftime so we're gonna go out and see how Bulma's shooting skills are holding up!" Goku exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and seizing Bulma's hand. Piccolo, ever observent, noticed Vejita narrow his eyes defensively and allowed himself a smug smile. "Come on!"
Bulma pulled a capsule out of her pocket and rolled it between her fingers uncertainly. "I don't know about my skills anymore, Goku. Its been awhile since I've done this."
Goku waved off her protest and dragged her outside, followed by the rest of the gang, minus Chichi, who had remained absent the entire time, much to Bulma's relief. Bulma opened the capsule and examined the small pile of automatics of her own invention at her feet. Vejita pushed his way to her side and picked up the largest gun in the pile, turning it over in his hands.
"There is no way in hell that I'm missing out on this," he said, adjusting the settings on the gun easily.
Yamcha, ever competitive, also stepped forward and chose the second largest gun, much to Vejita's amusement. "Neither am I!"
Bulma stroked her favorite handgun absently, remembering how powerful it was in spite of its modest size, lost in her childhood memories while Goku set up three targets. "Here we go..." she whispered, eyeing the target with a trained eye.
"At the count of three," Goku said.
Vejita, ignoring him, lifted his gun and hit a bullseye effortlessly, smirking in triumph. "Damn I'm good..."
"Shit!" Yamcha's bullet clipped the outside of the target. He scowled in response to Vejita's bragging.
Both men turned to watch Bulma, who was lining up her shot carefully. Much to their surprise, her bullet hit dead center on the first try. Yamcha offered a thumbs up but was promptly ignored. Vejita, however, opened himself up to the challenge.
"You think you're good?" he challenged. "Watch this."
All eyes were on Vejita was he took aim and successfully dotted the 'i' in 'Nike' on Yamcha's flapping jacket. The shocked baseball player jumped about four seconds too late, glaring at Vejita with obvious rage. "You--you SHOT at me, you asshole!"
"Nice shot, eh?" Vejita said wickedly, tossing his gun back into the pile and grinning crookedly as it went off, causing everyone to start once again.
"Kami," Bulma breathed, exasperated with the Saiyan. She aimed and doubled the size of his hole on Yamcha's jacket, much to her ex's dismay. "I think that's a draw. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"Don't be stupid, woman," he replied. "Saiyans do not restrict their fighting to ki's."
Bulma snorted. "I find that hard to believe, considering a typical Saiyan's brain capacity," she muttered to herself.
"You're half right," Vejita said smugly. She had forgotten his Saiyan hearing. "We stole the technology, most of the time."
"You shut up!" she snarled hotly, storing the guns back into the capsule and stuffing it into her bra, much to the men's amusement. "I'm getting sick of this. Besides, its cold!"
Goku smiled as she stomped back into his house. "Its really great to see her back to her normal self!" He looked at Vejita quizzically. "What changed her?"
"She went shopping, Kakkarott," the other Saiyan pointed out, avoiding Goku's eyes. "Doesn't that put just about every woman back into her element?"
Yamcha stepped forward, pointing at Vejita accusingly. "What happened, you liar?! What did you do to her?"
The prince smirked. "Trust me, if I had done something she would be a hell of a lot happier than THAT. I'll excuse your stupidity though, because you obviously know nothing about pleasing a woman."
Vejita put himself on the defensive as Yamcha charged blindly at him, prepared for the awkward attack. The others winced helplessly as he flung him over his head and delivered a swift blow to Yamcha's gut without any effort. Yamcha remained on the ground, writhing in pain.
"That's what you get, you fool!" Vejita growled, standing over the human unsympathetically. "The next time you attack me I will not be so merciful."
"Come on Vejita," Goku scolded as he rushed to Yamcha's side. "You didn't have to be so harsh."
"I do not need you to tell me what to do!" Vejita crossed his arms and scowled. "Leave him alone. Even he isn't pussy enough to need help from you."
Yamcha sat up slowly, glaring at Vejita. "If I hear about you laying even a hand on her, I'll kill you!"
"An empty threat," Vejita replied. "Giving me a bruise is beyond your abilities. The woman could kick your ass, most likely. You have obviously not been training as of late."
"That's enough Vejita," Piccolo said. "You've done more than your share already. I think it would be a good idea to get back inside now."
"Halftime's probably almost over," Krillen offered timidly, with a quick glance at Vejita, whose silent anger was apparent.
As if on cue, Bulma stepped out of the house and called to them impatiently. "Game's back on!" Then, noticing Yamcha on the ground, she furrowed her eyebrows in puzzlement. "What's going on?"
"Just a little male bonding," Yamcha called back, grimacing in pain. He looked at Goku, quiet anger shining in his brown eyes. "There's no sense in upsetting her."
As he passed, Vejita gave Yamcha the most malicious look he had ever received. It was a sure sign that things were not over between the two headstrong men.
"Why was Yamcha on the ground today?" Bulma asked, tightening her desperate grip around Vejita's neck. This would be the last time he flew her ANYWHERE. Even afer slowing down twice they were still at a breakneck speed. And high up. VERY high up. "You don't have to lie to me, I'm not stupid, okay? Yamcha doesn't get bruises from slipping and falling on Goku's nice grassy lawn."
Vejita scowled, uncertain what to tell her. Though he hated to admit it, Yamcha had been right about not mentioning anything to Bulma. She was having a hard enough time getting over him without this little bit of encouragement. The prince hated himself for even bothering to spare her feelings. "Stop acting so damned suspicious, woman. My allowing you to fall to a painful death IS a possibility."
"Oh, fuck off..." she whined. "You wouldn't drop me."
Vejita could not resist the temptation a moment more. He suddenly and deliberately released his hold on her and smirked as she slid, screaming, out of his arms and plummeted the ground below. He allowed her to fall a good two hundred feet before retreiving her.
She was silent as she shifted her position, her cheeks red in anger. Vejita was just about to say something to her when he was smacked with surprising, if not weak, force across the face, causing him to drop Bulma once again. This time, she did not scream.
"Dammit, woman!" Vejita protested once he had collected her again. "What the hell was that for? If you were killed I'd have to attend your funeral, and I cannot spare that kind of time from my training."
"Its nice to know that I'm held in such high regard." She remained strangely silent until they touched down on the Capsule Corps lawn. The girl sighed, happy to be safely on the ground again. "Thank Kami that trip is over. You are so inconsiderate."
"Consider yourself lucky. If you had been anyone else I would have let you fall to your death."
"So this means that I'm not just anybody?" Bulma's tone was teasing, but it was a serious question.
Vejita snorted. "Of course you aren't. You fix my gravity room."
Bulma huffed indignantly and put her hands on her hips. "You know, Vejita, being alone for the rest of your long Saiyan life is not going to be fun."
"Who ever said that I was looking for company?"
"I wasn't saying that! I was just pointing out that if you continue being so cold to everyone you meet, even someone you've been LIVING with, then that's how your life is gonna turn out." Bulma glared at him with her hard blue eyes and then proceeded to the house, shaking her head.
"The same could be said for you," Vejita shouted after her, angry at her prying comments. "You're as bad as a lovesick puppy and you know it."
Bulma didn't turn around but waved off his true (?) comment and entered the house, mulling over his words. She knew that he was right, of course, but she wasn't about to admit anything to him. It was, after all, none of his royal business. She slipped off her shoes and padded to the kitchen, where her mother was busy chopping vegetables for dinner. The woman did not look up as Bulma took a seat at the table and stared blankly at the wall.
"Did you have a nice time?" her mother asked, still chopping away. "Where's Vejita?"
Bulma considered her answer. She could either snap at her mother or reply truthfully. She found the former to be too tiring, and predictable. She wasn't about to prove Vejita's assumptions correct. "It was going smoothly until Yamcha showed up perfectly fine and left with battle scars left by some unknown force. As for Vejita, who knows? Probably in the gravity room."
"Your hair looks a little tousled, and your clothes are all out of place" Mrs. Briefs commented, a mischevious twinkle in her eye. "Did something happen between you and our prince that I should know about?"
"Yes, he dropped me. Twice." Bulma grabbed a carrot and snapped it in half uncerimoniously, contemplating eating it.
"Oh, dear. I suppose it'll take more than good food and a gravity room to tame that man."
"No shit," Bulma said. A guarded expression passed over her face. "Hey Mom, do you think that...well, that..." She trailed off uncertainly, snapping the carrot into smaller and smaller sections.
"What?" Mrs. Briefs pressed, interested in spite of herself.
"That I'm acting like a lovesick schoolgirl?" Bulma finally blurted, shoving the carrot pieces into her mouth to stop herself from asking any more embarrassing questions.
"Who pointed that out to you?"
"Vejita--who else?"
Mrs. Briefs smiled and looked up from the vegetables. "Well, once you put it that way...I suppose so. Don't beat yourself up about it, dear. Just take some steps to stop it, and your sorrow will simply...blow over. You've gotten over all of the other times you two have broken up."
"But this time, its final," Bulma said sadly, staring down at her hands. "I guess it wasn't so much the break-up, it was Yamcha's reasons for it."
"Care to elaborate?"
Bulma frowned and a shadow came over her face. "He said that all I think about is partying and...things." Her eyes narrowed. "I suppose its true. But I haven't done very much since then, and he just wouldn't let me explain myself. He wouldn't give me a second chance."
Mrs. Briefs' voice became serious. She knew what her daughter had been getting into. "Your relationship has been full of second chances. Eventually, your chances will run out, and there is nothing that you or Yamcha can do about that. You have your whole lives ahead of you, and neither of you need these kinds of distractions."
"I guess you're right," Bulma admitted. "I've been cutting down, its just that its so hard. Its so--addicting."
"Let's not discuss that please," her mother said. "I most certainly do not need those kinds of thoughts about my daughter floating around in my head."
"Bullshit, Mom. Its only crack."
"Yes, just like Vejita's beating himself up into a bloody pulp is only training!" The woman completed her chopping and tossed her knife into the sink, where it was immediately cleaned by one of Dr. Briefs' robots. "Speaking of Vejita, I'm surprised its taken him this long to come and interrogate me about dinner. I wonder what's on his mind?"
Bulma slid off of her chair and ran a hand over her hair. "I'm going to change. Call for me when dinner's ready."
Mrs. Briefs nodded and leaned against the counter, lost in her thoughts already.
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(A/N): Is Mrs. Briefs suspecting something? Does she know something that Bulma does not? Find out next time in another exciting chapter of....nevermind. Anyhow for those of you who do not know yet, I have posted the prologue of my next fic, "Youth of the Nation", just to give you all a little taste of what's next. I don't expect to add onto it until this one is completed, though, sorry! It won't be too much longer, guys, don't fret. Do not be scared away by the prologue--the rest of the story won't be so dark, it'll be more like a normal (somewhat) high school fic. To VegetasWifey--even with my limited experience with goths, I would have never guessed your true identity! LoL! I'm kidding...that's okay, whatever floats your boat I guess! Anyways please remember to review so I can feel remotely special and get some motivation to continue...mwhahahhaaahahaa! Btw---Stef-Chan you are the best reviewer in the entire world!!! Thanks for inflating my ego....the compliments were great! All I ask is to write a fic that could be half as good as one of yours! LoL! Thanks soooo much I'll try to keep those one-liners/aerobic room scenes coming...of course Bulma is self-conscious about her figure...she's not invincible you know! Thanks so much!
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