...........................................................................................LITTLE BLACK DRESS
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
In spite of his constant state of hunger, Vejita found it unusually difficult to swallow his dinner that night. It may have been because of the heavy workout he had just had, or perhaps it was Bulma's sudden restoration of happiness. It could have been those things, but he was more willing to bet that it was because as soon as he had walked into the dining room Bulma's parents had gone silent, and had remained uncomfortably so until Bulma graced them with her presence. It was all he could do to keep his food down.
"I've been thinking about...what you said earlier," Bulma informed her mother between tiny bites. Vejita wondered what they had been discussing--underneath his uncaring persona, he really was nosy person. "You were right. I'm working on it."
"How sweet," Vejita said dryly, tossing his fork down on his plate, enjoying how the family jumped at the clattering sound. "Is anybody gonna let me in on this little project?"
Bulma gave him a disgusted look. "In your dreams. The LAST person I would tell is you."
Dr. Briefs raised an eyebrow. "You know, Bulma, Vejita is just like a member of our family now, maybe..."
"Daddy," Bulma exclaimed, exasperated. "He was JOKING. You don't really think that Vejita dotes on the details of my life like he actually CARES, do you?"
"She's got a point, old man." Vejita smirked and found his appetite returning. "Besides, its obviously something about that jackass baseball player of hers, and I'm sure the details of THAT relationship are not something I'd like to hear over dinner."
"Funny!" Bulma said, hurling her napkin at the Saiyan, who smoothly dodged it. "You don't always have to be such an asshole, Vejita!"
"Now, now children," Mrs. Briefs scolded half-heartedly. "Arguing ruins the meal, don't you think?"
"Nothing ruins food," Vejita grumbled, knowing that that wasn't entirely accurate. People trying to scrutinize you ruined food--he was talking from personal experience here. Looking up, he noticed both Mrs. and Dr. Briefs staring at him again. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!"
They looked a bit stricken at first, but eventually Mrs. Briefs recovered with a little private giggle. "Oh, nothing!"
"So 'nothing' is why you freaks have been staring at me this entire time?"
Bulma could not miss this opprotunity. "Staring at YOU? Over DINNER? What a way to ruin your appetite!"
"Shut up woman, or I'll give you a good reason to lose your appetite," Vejita snapped, crossing his arms.
Dr. Briefs stood and stepped back as a cleaning bot came by to take his plate. "This really is an intriguing conversation, but I really must be returning to my office. I have several important things to take care of."
"I'd better see to making dessert!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, and skipped to the kitchen, leaving Bulma and Vejita alone.
Bulma glanced at Vejita, a similiar expression of puzzlement on her face. "What was THAT all about?"
"I cannot eat while your foolish parents study me like some kind of lab rat," Vejita said irritably. "How would your appetite be?"
Bulma frowned. "The same as yours was, I guess. I think I have a guess as to why they disappeared so fast, though." At this comment her face reddened slightly. "And I DON'T like it."
"Care to share?" Vejita was not about to miss out on something that could be used to embarrass her.
"Fine, but if you make fun of me I swear I'll rig that gravity machine so the next time you turn it on you'll become a Saiyan pancake!" Bulma threatened seriously. Vejita smirked. "My mom gave me this lecture about getting over Yamcha and stuff, and...I suppose she's trying to uh--well...get my mind off of Yamcha, if you get what I'm saying."
The thoughts behind the incredibly naughty smirk that slowly crossed Vejita's face was unmistakable. Bulma nearly groaned, regretting her words. "Oh really? Perhaps that can be arranged..."
"You'd better keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself, monkey boy, because it isn't happening." Bulma jumped out of her chair and crossed her arms to hide how anxious she was suddenly feeling.
"That's too bad," he said with artificial wistfullness. "Because its quite clear that you've been lonely as of late..."
Bulma began backing out of the room. "Me? Lonely? How'd you guess?"
Vejita stretched and got up slowly, enjoying having the upper hand in the conversation. "What a coincidence! I've been lonely since...well, about the time I when I was nine years old and my father handed me over to Frieza."
"How unfortunate," Bulma sympathsized hastily, already most of the way to the door. "Suddenly dessert doesn't sound so good."
Vejita waited until she had scurried out of the room before bursting into wicked laughter.
Bulma's room was just as she had left it. Her collection of black dresses were neatly (for once) spread out on her bed and her dwindling supply of that wonderful white powder was gathered together in a bag on her dresser. Talking to her mother and realizing how obvious her bad habits had become had given her a bit of inspiration. She supposed that she didn't need QUITE so many of those dresses, and the drugs were beginning to take a toll on her body and mind. Looking at the messy array of discarded club tickets in her wastebasket, though, Bulma felt a touch of nostalgia. Even though her lifestyle was screwing up her life in almost all aspects, she would miss it. How else could she relieve her tension but by dancing and drugs?
She couldn't help but think of how pathetic that sounded. She was Bulma Briefs, the strong, witty girl who never let anything get her down! At least, that was who she had been. Who was she now? She pointedly ignored her mirror, knowing how that option always led to depression. Instead, she changed into some pajamas and set about discarding some of the dresses. It pained her every time she balled one up and tossed it; the dresses had been such a comfort to her. The Bulma who wore those dresses was the Bulma that Yamcha had fallen in love with--wasn't that what she wanted? For Yamcha to fall in love with her again?
"No," she reminded herself. "I do NOT want that. I am moving on." Somehow, those words had sounded a lot more convincing when her mother had spoken them. The coke on her dresser was beginning to become like a beacon. "Fuck that--what's one last time?"
Just as she had her hands on the bag, her phone rang, its shrill, intermitent blasts breaking the dangerous train of thought. Bulma seized the bag and tossed it into the garbage, covering it with another dress. Sighing, she made a grab at the phone.
"Hello?" She hoped that she didn't scare away whoever was on the other line with her irritated voice.
"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Goku sounded a bit surprised to hear her answer. "Bulma?"
"I'm here--what is it?"
"I was wondering if Vejita could spar tomorrow..."
Bulma rolled her eyes at Goku's mistake. "Goku, this is my private line, remember? The one that's in my room? If you want to reach His Majesty you'll have to use the main line."
"Oh, yeah," Goku said, laughing at himself. "I knew that! Well, as long as I'm already talking to you...how's it going?"
"Is there a point to this conversation?"
"Sorry! I also want to know if its okay if I drop by tomorrow. You know, to like, have lunch or something." Goku's voice was childishly hopeful.
"Oh, Goku," Bulma said. Her old friend was hard to turn down. "That'll be fine. I'm sure Vejita would love to get an excuse to beat you up."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow!" Goku exclaimed. "See ya!"
Bulma shook her head as he hung up. He even managed to make his dial tone sound excited. She wondered how he could be so happy at the prospect of seeing someone who hated him more than anyone else in the universe. "The day he gets even an iota stronger than you is the day you die, Goku," she muttered, gathering the few dresses she just couldn't part with and shoving them into the back of her closet. "Everyone else can see how mean Vejita is, why can't you?" Mentally exhausted, she collapsed onto her bed and busied herself staring at her high ceiling. Her thoughts were rudely interuppted by music with a pounding bass coming from Vejita's room. She silently cursed her mom for setting him up right next to her room. She reluctantly made her way into the hallway and banged on Vejita's door.
"Do you MIND?!" she shouted, placing her hands on her hips. "Some of us actually require SLEEP!"
The volume on the music went up, if that was even possible, much to Bulma's anger. Getting sick of waiting for Vejita to respond, she turned the doorknob and stormed into the room. Vejita was watching a rerun of the day's football game and listening to the music at the same time. How he could do both at once was beyond Bulma. He looked up lazily and then went back to his game before commenting.
"Nice outfit."
Bulma looked down at her little boxers and tank top and rolled her eyes. "Turn down that racket!"
Vejita pretended to contemplate this. "Ahh--no." He flipped channels half-heartedly and changed the track on the CD. When Bulma didn't go away, he glanced up again. "Well?"
"I'm not leaving until you turn that down and let me get some sleep."
"Then find yourself a seat because its not happening," he replied. "Fuck off."
"Goku called me," she said impatiently. "He's coming over for lunch and to spar with your royal ass."
Vejita scowled. "I have to visit with Kakkarott AGAIN? Whose brilliant idea was that?"
Bulma narrowed her eyes and stomped to his door. "I hope he kills you," she said, and slammed the door closed behind her.
Vejita slung his towel over his shoulders as he descended the stairs early the next morning. Musty light from the golden sunrise filtered through the sunlights of the Briefs mansion, reminding him much of the palace back on Vejitasei. Except instead of cheery white furnishings, the palace had been covered from floor to ceiling with blood red and black banisters and tapestries--the colors of the House of Vejita. The prince shook his head, trying to clear the painful thoughts from his mind. The Briefs home was nothing like the palace, Earth was nothing like Vejitasei, and this family was not Saiyan, no matter how much their daughter's attitude went against that.
He had gotten halfway down the stairs when Mrs. and Dr. Briefs scurried across the hall and began coming upstairs, too engaged in conversation to notice him. Looking around frantically, he made a quick decision and jumped over the railing of the staircase, hovering just under their field of view.
"She'll be fine here," Dr. Briefs was reassuring his wife, who was wringing her hands nervously. "Vejita will be here if anything happens. Kami knows we can't find anything stronger to protect her."
Mrs. Briefs stopped just in front of Vejita, turning big eyes to her husband. "What if Bulma was right all along? What if he really HASN'T changed? Goodness, I remember what he was like when he was first here, and I certainly don't want to entrust our only daughter with a man like that. She could be ravaged or worse."
Vejita smirked. It certainly was a possibility he planned to keep open. Perhaps Mrs. Briefs wasn't as thick as she came across as.
"Bulma has been handling herself around all sorts of people for her entire life," Dr. Briefs argued. "Besides, Vejita needs her to keep his gravity machine in working order, and to prepare food."
"Oh, honey, why now? Why do we have to leave at this time of transition?!" Mrs. Briefs wailed overdramatically, making her way up the stairs once again. "I LOATHE having to tell her--can't you do it?"
The man put an arm around his wife and kissed her forehead. "Of course I will, dear. Lets hurry up, we have a plane to catch."
Vejita let himself float down to the ground, thinking about this new turn of events. Her parents were obviously going to be gone awhile, or else Mrs. Briefs wouldn't be getting so worked up. They had spent days away from the house before. This must be some kind of vacation, he guessed, walking quietly to the gravity room. He didn't know whether to feel grateful or angry that Mrs. Briefs was finally seeing the real him. He smirked, thinking of the look on Bulma's face when her parents broke the news to her.
Bulma sat on her front step, her knees pulled up to her chest, her hair carelessy unstyled, and a particularily vulnerable look on her young face. The corner of her mouth twitched a bit as her parents lifted their hands in a good-bye wave and pulled out of the driveway, leaving her utterly alone with Vejita, the arrogant asshole who wanted nothing more than to kill her best friend in the whole world and to make her life a living hell.
Vejita, who had been ordered to help her parents carry out their luggage, stood in the middle of the driveway, the late fall wind blowing his trademark towel around his bare chest. To any other woman it would have been a sight worthy of a serious orgasim but to Bulma it was a sinister sight. It wasn't that she hadn't dealt with him before, it was more the fact that she had never been completely alone with him for two whole weeks without her parents in immediate reach. Thinking back to their almost-kiss the night of her mother's party and the several other close encounters they had shared, she wasn't entirely sure that she trusted the dark Saiyan.
He turned around and began walking back towards the house, looking right through her. Bulma thought of the previous night, when he had said that he had been lonely for so long. She wondered if it had just been a lie, something he had said to trick her into fooling around with him. Kami knew that SHE hadn't been lying. She was discovering that loneliness was an emotion she would have to learn to live with. Vejita stopped when he was a few feet from her and narrowed his eyes, studying her face intently.
"You have never been this upset about your parents leaving before," he observed, his tone of voice clearly intended to mock her. "What's different about this time?"
Bulma summoned up the courage to lift her chin a bit and look up at him. She realized that tears were ready to spill over her lashes. "They don't trust you, and neither do I."
Vejita's expression was suddenly angry. "Don't trust me?" He considered this for a moment, looking more and more pissed as he thought. "Perhaps you are wiser than I have been giving you credit for. Get up!" He said this savagely, and urgently motioned for her to stand. When she just stared at him with surprise, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently. "What the fuck is wrong with you people?! I've been suffering for the past four years! I have had to restrain not only my anger, but my strength and emotion also!"
Bulma did not try to wrest herself free, but instead her body went stiff and unresponsive. "You told my parents that I would be safe with you!" she protested desperately, her eyes enormously wide.
"I lied," he said through gritted teeth, and pulled her to her feet. "Lonely, eh? I'm about to give you a little taste of what it feels like to be truly alone." With a sadistic, almost insane, smile, he formed tiny ki balls on his fingertips and held them in front of her pale face, watching her as she regarded them with fear.
"What set YOU off?" Bulma demanded, trying to keep her face as far away from the glowing orbs as possible. "Vejita, what IS this?"
"This," he started, closing his hand around the ki balls and watching as they snuffed out like tiny flames. His hand went to her throat and tightened threateningly, causing small bruises where his fingertips pressed. "is what happens when a Saiyan gets sick of all the bullshit that's been holding him back for so fucking long."
Just as he finished his sentence, Bulma caught sight of Goku, hesitating about a hundred feet away, apparently planning an attack. She met his eyes briefly and then turned back to Vejita, knowing very well that there was no way that Goku could sneak up on the other Saiyan without being detected and most likely killed. She desperately racked her brain, trying to think of a way to distract the rampant prince. When an idea came to her, she began taking deep breaths, forcing herself to become calm and not get both herself and Goku killed. At that moment, she was extremely grateful that Goku had offered to come to lunch this day.
"And this," she breathed. "is what happens when a girl gets sick of empty threats." With speed that surprised even Vejita, she pressed herself to him and busied him with a perfect, if not staged, kiss that would have made even the best actress proud, even though most of it wasn't quite as fake as Bulma would have liked to admit.
Goku used the quick opprotunity to come up behind the unsuspecting Vejita. Bulma made quick eye contact with her friend as he brought his fists down on the sides Vejita's head. Before falling into unconsciousness, the prince's hand lashed out and delivered a crushing blow to Goku's groin, causing him to double over in agony. Bulma stepped back from Vejita's collapsing body and smiled at her dependable friend, her bright eyes full of melancholy.
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(A/N): What will happen when Vejita wakes up? Why, exactly, did he blow up at Bulma? What does Goku make of this mess? OmG, where's the next chapter?! LoL! There, I've said it all for you. This chapter isn't nearly as long as I had planned it to be, but hey, that's life. And yes, I'm still making good on my vow not to touch my other fic until this one is completed. The time is not far off... Thanks everyone for the reviews....cough cough....j/k j/k.... Please remember to at least comment on SOMETHING--it doesn't have to be a compliment, you know. I'm a tough girl, I can take flames. I suppose a bad review is better than none at all.
REVIEW!!!!
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.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
In spite of his constant state of hunger, Vejita found it unusually difficult to swallow his dinner that night. It may have been because of the heavy workout he had just had, or perhaps it was Bulma's sudden restoration of happiness. It could have been those things, but he was more willing to bet that it was because as soon as he had walked into the dining room Bulma's parents had gone silent, and had remained uncomfortably so until Bulma graced them with her presence. It was all he could do to keep his food down.
"I've been thinking about...what you said earlier," Bulma informed her mother between tiny bites. Vejita wondered what they had been discussing--underneath his uncaring persona, he really was nosy person. "You were right. I'm working on it."
"How sweet," Vejita said dryly, tossing his fork down on his plate, enjoying how the family jumped at the clattering sound. "Is anybody gonna let me in on this little project?"
Bulma gave him a disgusted look. "In your dreams. The LAST person I would tell is you."
Dr. Briefs raised an eyebrow. "You know, Bulma, Vejita is just like a member of our family now, maybe..."
"Daddy," Bulma exclaimed, exasperated. "He was JOKING. You don't really think that Vejita dotes on the details of my life like he actually CARES, do you?"
"She's got a point, old man." Vejita smirked and found his appetite returning. "Besides, its obviously something about that jackass baseball player of hers, and I'm sure the details of THAT relationship are not something I'd like to hear over dinner."
"Funny!" Bulma said, hurling her napkin at the Saiyan, who smoothly dodged it. "You don't always have to be such an asshole, Vejita!"
"Now, now children," Mrs. Briefs scolded half-heartedly. "Arguing ruins the meal, don't you think?"
"Nothing ruins food," Vejita grumbled, knowing that that wasn't entirely accurate. People trying to scrutinize you ruined food--he was talking from personal experience here. Looking up, he noticed both Mrs. and Dr. Briefs staring at him again. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!"
They looked a bit stricken at first, but eventually Mrs. Briefs recovered with a little private giggle. "Oh, nothing!"
"So 'nothing' is why you freaks have been staring at me this entire time?"
Bulma could not miss this opprotunity. "Staring at YOU? Over DINNER? What a way to ruin your appetite!"
"Shut up woman, or I'll give you a good reason to lose your appetite," Vejita snapped, crossing his arms.
Dr. Briefs stood and stepped back as a cleaning bot came by to take his plate. "This really is an intriguing conversation, but I really must be returning to my office. I have several important things to take care of."
"I'd better see to making dessert!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, and skipped to the kitchen, leaving Bulma and Vejita alone.
Bulma glanced at Vejita, a similiar expression of puzzlement on her face. "What was THAT all about?"
"I cannot eat while your foolish parents study me like some kind of lab rat," Vejita said irritably. "How would your appetite be?"
Bulma frowned. "The same as yours was, I guess. I think I have a guess as to why they disappeared so fast, though." At this comment her face reddened slightly. "And I DON'T like it."
"Care to share?" Vejita was not about to miss out on something that could be used to embarrass her.
"Fine, but if you make fun of me I swear I'll rig that gravity machine so the next time you turn it on you'll become a Saiyan pancake!" Bulma threatened seriously. Vejita smirked. "My mom gave me this lecture about getting over Yamcha and stuff, and...I suppose she's trying to uh--well...get my mind off of Yamcha, if you get what I'm saying."
The thoughts behind the incredibly naughty smirk that slowly crossed Vejita's face was unmistakable. Bulma nearly groaned, regretting her words. "Oh really? Perhaps that can be arranged..."
"You'd better keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself, monkey boy, because it isn't happening." Bulma jumped out of her chair and crossed her arms to hide how anxious she was suddenly feeling.
"That's too bad," he said with artificial wistfullness. "Because its quite clear that you've been lonely as of late..."
Bulma began backing out of the room. "Me? Lonely? How'd you guess?"
Vejita stretched and got up slowly, enjoying having the upper hand in the conversation. "What a coincidence! I've been lonely since...well, about the time I when I was nine years old and my father handed me over to Frieza."
"How unfortunate," Bulma sympathsized hastily, already most of the way to the door. "Suddenly dessert doesn't sound so good."
Vejita waited until she had scurried out of the room before bursting into wicked laughter.
Bulma's room was just as she had left it. Her collection of black dresses were neatly (for once) spread out on her bed and her dwindling supply of that wonderful white powder was gathered together in a bag on her dresser. Talking to her mother and realizing how obvious her bad habits had become had given her a bit of inspiration. She supposed that she didn't need QUITE so many of those dresses, and the drugs were beginning to take a toll on her body and mind. Looking at the messy array of discarded club tickets in her wastebasket, though, Bulma felt a touch of nostalgia. Even though her lifestyle was screwing up her life in almost all aspects, she would miss it. How else could she relieve her tension but by dancing and drugs?
She couldn't help but think of how pathetic that sounded. She was Bulma Briefs, the strong, witty girl who never let anything get her down! At least, that was who she had been. Who was she now? She pointedly ignored her mirror, knowing how that option always led to depression. Instead, she changed into some pajamas and set about discarding some of the dresses. It pained her every time she balled one up and tossed it; the dresses had been such a comfort to her. The Bulma who wore those dresses was the Bulma that Yamcha had fallen in love with--wasn't that what she wanted? For Yamcha to fall in love with her again?
"No," she reminded herself. "I do NOT want that. I am moving on." Somehow, those words had sounded a lot more convincing when her mother had spoken them. The coke on her dresser was beginning to become like a beacon. "Fuck that--what's one last time?"
Just as she had her hands on the bag, her phone rang, its shrill, intermitent blasts breaking the dangerous train of thought. Bulma seized the bag and tossed it into the garbage, covering it with another dress. Sighing, she made a grab at the phone.
"Hello?" She hoped that she didn't scare away whoever was on the other line with her irritated voice.
"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Goku sounded a bit surprised to hear her answer. "Bulma?"
"I'm here--what is it?"
"I was wondering if Vejita could spar tomorrow..."
Bulma rolled her eyes at Goku's mistake. "Goku, this is my private line, remember? The one that's in my room? If you want to reach His Majesty you'll have to use the main line."
"Oh, yeah," Goku said, laughing at himself. "I knew that! Well, as long as I'm already talking to you...how's it going?"
"Is there a point to this conversation?"
"Sorry! I also want to know if its okay if I drop by tomorrow. You know, to like, have lunch or something." Goku's voice was childishly hopeful.
"Oh, Goku," Bulma said. Her old friend was hard to turn down. "That'll be fine. I'm sure Vejita would love to get an excuse to beat you up."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow!" Goku exclaimed. "See ya!"
Bulma shook her head as he hung up. He even managed to make his dial tone sound excited. She wondered how he could be so happy at the prospect of seeing someone who hated him more than anyone else in the universe. "The day he gets even an iota stronger than you is the day you die, Goku," she muttered, gathering the few dresses she just couldn't part with and shoving them into the back of her closet. "Everyone else can see how mean Vejita is, why can't you?" Mentally exhausted, she collapsed onto her bed and busied herself staring at her high ceiling. Her thoughts were rudely interuppted by music with a pounding bass coming from Vejita's room. She silently cursed her mom for setting him up right next to her room. She reluctantly made her way into the hallway and banged on Vejita's door.
"Do you MIND?!" she shouted, placing her hands on her hips. "Some of us actually require SLEEP!"
The volume on the music went up, if that was even possible, much to Bulma's anger. Getting sick of waiting for Vejita to respond, she turned the doorknob and stormed into the room. Vejita was watching a rerun of the day's football game and listening to the music at the same time. How he could do both at once was beyond Bulma. He looked up lazily and then went back to his game before commenting.
"Nice outfit."
Bulma looked down at her little boxers and tank top and rolled her eyes. "Turn down that racket!"
Vejita pretended to contemplate this. "Ahh--no." He flipped channels half-heartedly and changed the track on the CD. When Bulma didn't go away, he glanced up again. "Well?"
"I'm not leaving until you turn that down and let me get some sleep."
"Then find yourself a seat because its not happening," he replied. "Fuck off."
"Goku called me," she said impatiently. "He's coming over for lunch and to spar with your royal ass."
Vejita scowled. "I have to visit with Kakkarott AGAIN? Whose brilliant idea was that?"
Bulma narrowed her eyes and stomped to his door. "I hope he kills you," she said, and slammed the door closed behind her.
Vejita slung his towel over his shoulders as he descended the stairs early the next morning. Musty light from the golden sunrise filtered through the sunlights of the Briefs mansion, reminding him much of the palace back on Vejitasei. Except instead of cheery white furnishings, the palace had been covered from floor to ceiling with blood red and black banisters and tapestries--the colors of the House of Vejita. The prince shook his head, trying to clear the painful thoughts from his mind. The Briefs home was nothing like the palace, Earth was nothing like Vejitasei, and this family was not Saiyan, no matter how much their daughter's attitude went against that.
He had gotten halfway down the stairs when Mrs. and Dr. Briefs scurried across the hall and began coming upstairs, too engaged in conversation to notice him. Looking around frantically, he made a quick decision and jumped over the railing of the staircase, hovering just under their field of view.
"She'll be fine here," Dr. Briefs was reassuring his wife, who was wringing her hands nervously. "Vejita will be here if anything happens. Kami knows we can't find anything stronger to protect her."
Mrs. Briefs stopped just in front of Vejita, turning big eyes to her husband. "What if Bulma was right all along? What if he really HASN'T changed? Goodness, I remember what he was like when he was first here, and I certainly don't want to entrust our only daughter with a man like that. She could be ravaged or worse."
Vejita smirked. It certainly was a possibility he planned to keep open. Perhaps Mrs. Briefs wasn't as thick as she came across as.
"Bulma has been handling herself around all sorts of people for her entire life," Dr. Briefs argued. "Besides, Vejita needs her to keep his gravity machine in working order, and to prepare food."
"Oh, honey, why now? Why do we have to leave at this time of transition?!" Mrs. Briefs wailed overdramatically, making her way up the stairs once again. "I LOATHE having to tell her--can't you do it?"
The man put an arm around his wife and kissed her forehead. "Of course I will, dear. Lets hurry up, we have a plane to catch."
Vejita let himself float down to the ground, thinking about this new turn of events. Her parents were obviously going to be gone awhile, or else Mrs. Briefs wouldn't be getting so worked up. They had spent days away from the house before. This must be some kind of vacation, he guessed, walking quietly to the gravity room. He didn't know whether to feel grateful or angry that Mrs. Briefs was finally seeing the real him. He smirked, thinking of the look on Bulma's face when her parents broke the news to her.
Bulma sat on her front step, her knees pulled up to her chest, her hair carelessy unstyled, and a particularily vulnerable look on her young face. The corner of her mouth twitched a bit as her parents lifted their hands in a good-bye wave and pulled out of the driveway, leaving her utterly alone with Vejita, the arrogant asshole who wanted nothing more than to kill her best friend in the whole world and to make her life a living hell.
Vejita, who had been ordered to help her parents carry out their luggage, stood in the middle of the driveway, the late fall wind blowing his trademark towel around his bare chest. To any other woman it would have been a sight worthy of a serious orgasim but to Bulma it was a sinister sight. It wasn't that she hadn't dealt with him before, it was more the fact that she had never been completely alone with him for two whole weeks without her parents in immediate reach. Thinking back to their almost-kiss the night of her mother's party and the several other close encounters they had shared, she wasn't entirely sure that she trusted the dark Saiyan.
He turned around and began walking back towards the house, looking right through her. Bulma thought of the previous night, when he had said that he had been lonely for so long. She wondered if it had just been a lie, something he had said to trick her into fooling around with him. Kami knew that SHE hadn't been lying. She was discovering that loneliness was an emotion she would have to learn to live with. Vejita stopped when he was a few feet from her and narrowed his eyes, studying her face intently.
"You have never been this upset about your parents leaving before," he observed, his tone of voice clearly intended to mock her. "What's different about this time?"
Bulma summoned up the courage to lift her chin a bit and look up at him. She realized that tears were ready to spill over her lashes. "They don't trust you, and neither do I."
Vejita's expression was suddenly angry. "Don't trust me?" He considered this for a moment, looking more and more pissed as he thought. "Perhaps you are wiser than I have been giving you credit for. Get up!" He said this savagely, and urgently motioned for her to stand. When she just stared at him with surprise, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently. "What the fuck is wrong with you people?! I've been suffering for the past four years! I have had to restrain not only my anger, but my strength and emotion also!"
Bulma did not try to wrest herself free, but instead her body went stiff and unresponsive. "You told my parents that I would be safe with you!" she protested desperately, her eyes enormously wide.
"I lied," he said through gritted teeth, and pulled her to her feet. "Lonely, eh? I'm about to give you a little taste of what it feels like to be truly alone." With a sadistic, almost insane, smile, he formed tiny ki balls on his fingertips and held them in front of her pale face, watching her as she regarded them with fear.
"What set YOU off?" Bulma demanded, trying to keep her face as far away from the glowing orbs as possible. "Vejita, what IS this?"
"This," he started, closing his hand around the ki balls and watching as they snuffed out like tiny flames. His hand went to her throat and tightened threateningly, causing small bruises where his fingertips pressed. "is what happens when a Saiyan gets sick of all the bullshit that's been holding him back for so fucking long."
Just as he finished his sentence, Bulma caught sight of Goku, hesitating about a hundred feet away, apparently planning an attack. She met his eyes briefly and then turned back to Vejita, knowing very well that there was no way that Goku could sneak up on the other Saiyan without being detected and most likely killed. She desperately racked her brain, trying to think of a way to distract the rampant prince. When an idea came to her, she began taking deep breaths, forcing herself to become calm and not get both herself and Goku killed. At that moment, she was extremely grateful that Goku had offered to come to lunch this day.
"And this," she breathed. "is what happens when a girl gets sick of empty threats." With speed that surprised even Vejita, she pressed herself to him and busied him with a perfect, if not staged, kiss that would have made even the best actress proud, even though most of it wasn't quite as fake as Bulma would have liked to admit.
Goku used the quick opprotunity to come up behind the unsuspecting Vejita. Bulma made quick eye contact with her friend as he brought his fists down on the sides Vejita's head. Before falling into unconsciousness, the prince's hand lashed out and delivered a crushing blow to Goku's groin, causing him to double over in agony. Bulma stepped back from Vejita's collapsing body and smiled at her dependable friend, her bright eyes full of melancholy.
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(A/N): What will happen when Vejita wakes up? Why, exactly, did he blow up at Bulma? What does Goku make of this mess? OmG, where's the next chapter?! LoL! There, I've said it all for you. This chapter isn't nearly as long as I had planned it to be, but hey, that's life. And yes, I'm still making good on my vow not to touch my other fic until this one is completed. The time is not far off... Thanks everyone for the reviews....cough cough....j/k j/k.... Please remember to at least comment on SOMETHING--it doesn't have to be a compliment, you know. I'm a tough girl, I can take flames. I suppose a bad review is better than none at all.
REVIEW!!!!
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