...........................................................................................LITTLE BLACK DRESS
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
Bulma, not surprisingly, woke up alone the next morning. Gathering up her discarded clothing, she walked slowly back to her own room, where a shower and a fresh change of clothes awaited her. The sight of the nose ring in the mirror still surprised her a bit, but she supposed it would be something she would have to grow accustomed to. After all, Christina Aguilera certainly wore HERS with pride! After stepping out of her shower, she dressed quickly and bounded down the stairs, eager to fill her growling stomach.
She was searching through the nearly empty refridgerator when the phone rang. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she picked up the portable and put it to her ear reluctantly.
"Yes?"
"You don't sound very happy to speak to your mother!"
Bulma stifled a groan. Her mother, as usual, had impeccable timing. "Hey, Mom. How's it going...wherever you are?"
"Oh, we're in Hawaii, honey. Did I forget to tell you?" Her mother giggled. "Sorry! I am calling from the airport, and guess what?"
Vejita walked into the room and froze at the horrified expression on Bulma's face. She motioned for him to be silent and sighed heavily.
"What?"
"We're coming home EARLY!"
The phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. Vejita, interested now, watched it as it spun on the kitchen floor. Bulma hurriedly picked it back up, her hands shaking.
"You're coming home early? How--nice! Is everything going alright?"
Vejita, guessing the way the conversation was going, rushed to the other phone and picked it up, eavesdropping like a pro. Bulma had no time to be suspicious of just how he had gotten so experienced.
"Oh, wonderful! Your father has had all the relaxation he needs, and I was feeling a bit...well, uncertain about you being back at home, you know--all alone with our very own Saiyan Prince." Mrs. Briefs sighed. "How are...things?"
Bulma glanced over at Vejita, who could hardly contain his amusement. She frowned and leaned on the counter, wringing her hands. "Um, they're fine. Just great. In fact, he's hardly out of that damned gravity machine except to eat. You know him, haha--always training." Vejita's smirk was growing larger, and Bulma prayed that he could control himself, for her sake. "We hardly even see each other, let alone get time to talk or...anything." Vejita was quite obviously suppressing laughter, and Bulma found herself having an equally difficult time.
"That's nice. I was SO worried about you two!" Bulma could hear her father speaking to her mother urgently in the backround. "Well, dear, I have to run! We have a plane to catch! Expect us home sometime tomorrow afternoon, as we plan to make a few stops. Ta-ta!" The dial tone had never sounded so good before.
Vejita hung up his extension and chuckled. "Your mother is smarter than I have been giving her credit for. I wouldn't be surprised if I started finding condoms in my room or wrapped up in little pink ribbons beside my dinner plate."
"Shut up!" Bulma put a hand to her nose nervously. "Kami, what will she SAY?"
"About what?"
"Everything!" Bulma exclaimed. "This is horrible. Leave it to my parents to have such bad timing."
"I knew that they would eventually cave in," Vejita said smugly. "That stupid human holiday--what's it called? Christmas or whatever, is coming up."
"Three weeks and counting," Bulma muttered. "What an interesting year this is going to be."
Bulma had no idea how ironic that comment had been until later that day, when she realized that she hadn't had a period since a month and half ago. At first she had written it off to her lingering adolescence, but as her mind mulled over the possibilites, she began thinking of the several occasions that had been unknowing opprotunites for pregnancy. The idea was so foreign to her mostly immature mind that it didn't fully hit her until she was digging through her mother's medicine cabinet, desperately searching for the slim white instrument that was notorious for making--or breaking--a girl's life.
Upon its discovery, she savagely attacked the plastic casing the tester was in, her fingers shaking in anticipation. Clutching the box to her chest, she rushed into the bathroom. Her frustrated shouts could be heard downstairs in the living room, and even over the television. Vejita furrowed his eyebrows.
"Damn!" A bang was heard as the pregnancy tester was thrown against the wall.
Silence for a few moments.
"Shit!" Bang.
Silence.
"Fuck!" Bang.
Silence.
"Of all the fucking retarded things that could happen!" The following clatter was enough to make Vejita wince in pain.
"What the hell is going on up there, woman?!" he demanded, muting the television.
A tight, fake laugh followed. "My hair won't curl this morning, that's all! Damned curling iron..."
Not fully convinced, but at the same time reluctant to inquire on Bulma's sudden mood swings, Vejita turned the sound back on and forced himself to concentrate on the television, though worry clouded his mind.
Though her parents had returned, they were so busy that it was as if they were still in Hawaii. It wasn't unusual--as the president of a such a large company, Dr. Briefs and his wife were expected at an endless stream of corporate parties and dinners. Under any other circumstances, Bulma would have gone with them, but not this year. Mrs. Briefs had raised an eyebrow, but otherwise had not commented.
Ever since Bulma had gone to Vejita's room so unexpectedly, it had become a routine. Often the Saiyan Prince would return to his room after a long afternoon of training to find her already asleep. Rather than protest, he allowed this routine to go on, as he found her presence soothing to his often strained nerves. He was a bit reluctant to ponder why, though the answer was already forming deep in his mind.
The upcoming holiday was having a pleasant effect on Bulma, who felt like she was about to fall apart beneath her cheery exterior. She spent several days decorating the compound and making plans for a party on Christmas Eve. Though Vejita was not looking forward to spending time with her friends and many of her father's coworkers and their families, he indulged her by limiting his snide comments on the subject. A little. The idea of her in the outfit she had purchased for the occasion affected this decision somewhat, also.
It had been a mutual agreement between the two that they would not get each other gifts. Bulma had suggested this with an odd light in her eye that led Vejita to believe that there was something that the girl was not telling him. The knowledge troubled him, and he spent hours on end in the gravity room, battling off the uneasy feelings he was experiencing.
Bulma, however, was feeling the uneasiness on a somewhat grander scale, for obvious reasons. She used the Christmas planning to get the baby off of her mind, though it was always in the back of her mind, and it was not an easy thing to forget. She could only hope that Vejita would not sense its presence before her chosen time. She was extremely grateful that her mother was kept occupied, for she knew that she would begin to have suspicions. So she kept her secret close to her young heart, keeping it safe like the dark secret that it was.
She had no idea what a Saiyan pregnancy would be like, except for how Chichi had mentioned that it was months shorter than a human one, though much more painful. The girl could only pray that she would not being to show anytime soon. Kami knew that she had been getting moodier with each passing day.
Vejita found the girl alone in her room late that night. He had returned to his room after a particularly brutal training session and been a bit put off when he had found it empty. He was careful to be quiet as he crept down the hallway to her door, which was cracked open a bit, casting a thin sliver of light into the hall, for he could make out her soft voice and perhaps a radio in the backround.
He stopped in the doorway, stunned at what he saw. Bulma sat on her floor, dressed in a short nighty that she was tugging at with nervous hands. Her hair was down and falling around her shoulders, and her eyes were squeezed shut in pain. She rocked back and forth slowly, her small, thin body shaking. Vejita had seen many pathetic displays of agony in his life, but he was unprepared for this one. Bulma had always seemed a bit vulnerable, but hearing her thin, cracking voice was almost too much. Her radio played quietly in the backround, clearly forgotten. He gripped the doorway and listened.
She was singing to herself as she trembled and rocked. "Young g-girl don't cry...be ri-ight here when your w-world star-ts to f-a-all..."
He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cave a wall in or run away. Both would have been inappropriate, but they were the only reactions he knew. While he hadn't a clue as to what was causing it, he was positive that she was in great physical, if not mental, pain. He could almost feel it within himself. But her eerie behavior and choice of words were what he would never forget. No matter how much he might have wanted to, Prince Vejita couldn't bring himself to run away, and he most certainly could not cave a wall in, for then her parents would hear. He crossed his arms and forced himself to stay put.
"What ails you, woman?"
Bulma ceased her rocking and singing, but other then that, she did not respond. Her eyes were glittering with tears. Vejita shook his head in frustration and entered her room. He walked past her and turned off the radio, settling on her lacy bed and taking a good look around while she found her voice.
He had been living with her for quite a while, but he had rarely been in her room. The walls were a soft shade of blue, as was her carpet and the sheets of her bed. Pictures of she and Goku on their infamous dragonball hunt hung on the walls, and a computer hummed in a corner. The only picture of Yamcha was the one her mother had taken of them the night of her Prom. She had hung it above the computer, where he imaged she would see it often. The doors of her walk-in closet were wide open, revealing an immense collection of expensive clothing and shoes. Her vanity was covered in containers of makeup and various applicators. Pictures of herself at all stages of her life were stuck in the mirror. It was obvious that she was a girl who loved all of the luxuries in life. The only thing that gave away the darker side of her personality was the wastebasket, which overflowed with strappy black dresses and a few bags of some suspicious white powder.
"Nothing." Her voice was hoarse, like she had been crying, or singing, for a long time. "Please leave."
"Is it your time of the month or something?" Vejita stood and began backing out of her room slowly, narrowing his eyes in puzzlement.
Bulma's eyes were empty and her expression strained. She stared blindly ahead at nothing in particular. "Oh Kami, how I wish that were so. LEAVE!"
Rather than feeling insulted over her harsh command, Vejita felt angry. But not at her. Never at her. Her pain was apparent to him, and he could hardly blame her for what she had said. It should have been obvious to him immediately that she hardly knew what she was saying. The image of her trying to rock and sing away her pain would be one that would haunt his dreams long into the night. No, he wasn't angry with her. He was angry in general. He was angry that he couldn't figure her out, not even when all of the clues had been laid out before him. There was most definitely something that she was not telling him, and the fact that he could not figure it out was making him angry.
He slammed the door of his room and made for his balcony. He ignored the bitter cold air and the snow that had piled on the balcony railing and floor and still blew quietly around him. He brushed away a small area on the rail and leaned against it, his expression dark and thoughtful. Christmas was coming up in a few days, shouldn't that be making Bulma happy? Kami knew she had been looking forward to it for weeks. All of the annoying clutter she had strewn about the house had proved that. He suddenly remembered the incident earlier that week, when he had overheard Bulma's angry shouts. And then he remembered her mother and father's shocked reactions to her newest piercing, which she was beginning to wear with pride. He had to admit that he was coming to like it. He smirked at the thought. The woman was becoming nearly as eccentric as he was. What a contest THAT would be. He called up a ball of ki and tossed it up and down restlessly. The hard side of him started taking over, and instead of following his thoughts up to conclusion, he shut them abruptly off and went back into his warm room, more than ready for a long, deep sleep.
But sleep would not find the Saiyan Prince that night.
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(A/N): This has been one of the hardest chapters to write so far. I definitely wanted to get the scene with Bulma singing in, because that's gonna have a lot to do with the sequel (Oops! I've gotta keep my mouth shut! Haha!), but then again it was really, really hard to get down. Believe me, I've spent a LONG time on it. Thanks everybody for the nice reviews, I appreciate your comments! And to Stef-chan: honestly, you must take ego-boosting pills or something. Whatever you're on that makes you so talented, please get me some! I'm nearly finished with my website--who knows, by the time you read this, it might be finished! Please go check it out ASAP. It has the rest of the lyrics to the song Bulma was singing (Yep, it was real!), some spoilers on upcoming fics (Like a sequel to this one, plans for "Youth of the Nation", and a couple ideas for my next fic!), and who knows what else I'll decide to stick on there. I'm no web genius, so its gonna be small and uncomplicated, believe me! Now, please keep up the good work and REVIEW!!!!
*******************************************************************************************
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
Bulma, not surprisingly, woke up alone the next morning. Gathering up her discarded clothing, she walked slowly back to her own room, where a shower and a fresh change of clothes awaited her. The sight of the nose ring in the mirror still surprised her a bit, but she supposed it would be something she would have to grow accustomed to. After all, Christina Aguilera certainly wore HERS with pride! After stepping out of her shower, she dressed quickly and bounded down the stairs, eager to fill her growling stomach.
She was searching through the nearly empty refridgerator when the phone rang. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she picked up the portable and put it to her ear reluctantly.
"Yes?"
"You don't sound very happy to speak to your mother!"
Bulma stifled a groan. Her mother, as usual, had impeccable timing. "Hey, Mom. How's it going...wherever you are?"
"Oh, we're in Hawaii, honey. Did I forget to tell you?" Her mother giggled. "Sorry! I am calling from the airport, and guess what?"
Vejita walked into the room and froze at the horrified expression on Bulma's face. She motioned for him to be silent and sighed heavily.
"What?"
"We're coming home EARLY!"
The phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. Vejita, interested now, watched it as it spun on the kitchen floor. Bulma hurriedly picked it back up, her hands shaking.
"You're coming home early? How--nice! Is everything going alright?"
Vejita, guessing the way the conversation was going, rushed to the other phone and picked it up, eavesdropping like a pro. Bulma had no time to be suspicious of just how he had gotten so experienced.
"Oh, wonderful! Your father has had all the relaxation he needs, and I was feeling a bit...well, uncertain about you being back at home, you know--all alone with our very own Saiyan Prince." Mrs. Briefs sighed. "How are...things?"
Bulma glanced over at Vejita, who could hardly contain his amusement. She frowned and leaned on the counter, wringing her hands. "Um, they're fine. Just great. In fact, he's hardly out of that damned gravity machine except to eat. You know him, haha--always training." Vejita's smirk was growing larger, and Bulma prayed that he could control himself, for her sake. "We hardly even see each other, let alone get time to talk or...anything." Vejita was quite obviously suppressing laughter, and Bulma found herself having an equally difficult time.
"That's nice. I was SO worried about you two!" Bulma could hear her father speaking to her mother urgently in the backround. "Well, dear, I have to run! We have a plane to catch! Expect us home sometime tomorrow afternoon, as we plan to make a few stops. Ta-ta!" The dial tone had never sounded so good before.
Vejita hung up his extension and chuckled. "Your mother is smarter than I have been giving her credit for. I wouldn't be surprised if I started finding condoms in my room or wrapped up in little pink ribbons beside my dinner plate."
"Shut up!" Bulma put a hand to her nose nervously. "Kami, what will she SAY?"
"About what?"
"Everything!" Bulma exclaimed. "This is horrible. Leave it to my parents to have such bad timing."
"I knew that they would eventually cave in," Vejita said smugly. "That stupid human holiday--what's it called? Christmas or whatever, is coming up."
"Three weeks and counting," Bulma muttered. "What an interesting year this is going to be."
Bulma had no idea how ironic that comment had been until later that day, when she realized that she hadn't had a period since a month and half ago. At first she had written it off to her lingering adolescence, but as her mind mulled over the possibilites, she began thinking of the several occasions that had been unknowing opprotunites for pregnancy. The idea was so foreign to her mostly immature mind that it didn't fully hit her until she was digging through her mother's medicine cabinet, desperately searching for the slim white instrument that was notorious for making--or breaking--a girl's life.
Upon its discovery, she savagely attacked the plastic casing the tester was in, her fingers shaking in anticipation. Clutching the box to her chest, she rushed into the bathroom. Her frustrated shouts could be heard downstairs in the living room, and even over the television. Vejita furrowed his eyebrows.
"Damn!" A bang was heard as the pregnancy tester was thrown against the wall.
Silence for a few moments.
"Shit!" Bang.
Silence.
"Fuck!" Bang.
Silence.
"Of all the fucking retarded things that could happen!" The following clatter was enough to make Vejita wince in pain.
"What the hell is going on up there, woman?!" he demanded, muting the television.
A tight, fake laugh followed. "My hair won't curl this morning, that's all! Damned curling iron..."
Not fully convinced, but at the same time reluctant to inquire on Bulma's sudden mood swings, Vejita turned the sound back on and forced himself to concentrate on the television, though worry clouded his mind.
Though her parents had returned, they were so busy that it was as if they were still in Hawaii. It wasn't unusual--as the president of a such a large company, Dr. Briefs and his wife were expected at an endless stream of corporate parties and dinners. Under any other circumstances, Bulma would have gone with them, but not this year. Mrs. Briefs had raised an eyebrow, but otherwise had not commented.
Ever since Bulma had gone to Vejita's room so unexpectedly, it had become a routine. Often the Saiyan Prince would return to his room after a long afternoon of training to find her already asleep. Rather than protest, he allowed this routine to go on, as he found her presence soothing to his often strained nerves. He was a bit reluctant to ponder why, though the answer was already forming deep in his mind.
The upcoming holiday was having a pleasant effect on Bulma, who felt like she was about to fall apart beneath her cheery exterior. She spent several days decorating the compound and making plans for a party on Christmas Eve. Though Vejita was not looking forward to spending time with her friends and many of her father's coworkers and their families, he indulged her by limiting his snide comments on the subject. A little. The idea of her in the outfit she had purchased for the occasion affected this decision somewhat, also.
It had been a mutual agreement between the two that they would not get each other gifts. Bulma had suggested this with an odd light in her eye that led Vejita to believe that there was something that the girl was not telling him. The knowledge troubled him, and he spent hours on end in the gravity room, battling off the uneasy feelings he was experiencing.
Bulma, however, was feeling the uneasiness on a somewhat grander scale, for obvious reasons. She used the Christmas planning to get the baby off of her mind, though it was always in the back of her mind, and it was not an easy thing to forget. She could only hope that Vejita would not sense its presence before her chosen time. She was extremely grateful that her mother was kept occupied, for she knew that she would begin to have suspicions. So she kept her secret close to her young heart, keeping it safe like the dark secret that it was.
She had no idea what a Saiyan pregnancy would be like, except for how Chichi had mentioned that it was months shorter than a human one, though much more painful. The girl could only pray that she would not being to show anytime soon. Kami knew that she had been getting moodier with each passing day.
Vejita found the girl alone in her room late that night. He had returned to his room after a particularly brutal training session and been a bit put off when he had found it empty. He was careful to be quiet as he crept down the hallway to her door, which was cracked open a bit, casting a thin sliver of light into the hall, for he could make out her soft voice and perhaps a radio in the backround.
He stopped in the doorway, stunned at what he saw. Bulma sat on her floor, dressed in a short nighty that she was tugging at with nervous hands. Her hair was down and falling around her shoulders, and her eyes were squeezed shut in pain. She rocked back and forth slowly, her small, thin body shaking. Vejita had seen many pathetic displays of agony in his life, but he was unprepared for this one. Bulma had always seemed a bit vulnerable, but hearing her thin, cracking voice was almost too much. Her radio played quietly in the backround, clearly forgotten. He gripped the doorway and listened.
She was singing to herself as she trembled and rocked. "Young g-girl don't cry...be ri-ight here when your w-world star-ts to f-a-all..."
He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cave a wall in or run away. Both would have been inappropriate, but they were the only reactions he knew. While he hadn't a clue as to what was causing it, he was positive that she was in great physical, if not mental, pain. He could almost feel it within himself. But her eerie behavior and choice of words were what he would never forget. No matter how much he might have wanted to, Prince Vejita couldn't bring himself to run away, and he most certainly could not cave a wall in, for then her parents would hear. He crossed his arms and forced himself to stay put.
"What ails you, woman?"
Bulma ceased her rocking and singing, but other then that, she did not respond. Her eyes were glittering with tears. Vejita shook his head in frustration and entered her room. He walked past her and turned off the radio, settling on her lacy bed and taking a good look around while she found her voice.
He had been living with her for quite a while, but he had rarely been in her room. The walls were a soft shade of blue, as was her carpet and the sheets of her bed. Pictures of she and Goku on their infamous dragonball hunt hung on the walls, and a computer hummed in a corner. The only picture of Yamcha was the one her mother had taken of them the night of her Prom. She had hung it above the computer, where he imaged she would see it often. The doors of her walk-in closet were wide open, revealing an immense collection of expensive clothing and shoes. Her vanity was covered in containers of makeup and various applicators. Pictures of herself at all stages of her life were stuck in the mirror. It was obvious that she was a girl who loved all of the luxuries in life. The only thing that gave away the darker side of her personality was the wastebasket, which overflowed with strappy black dresses and a few bags of some suspicious white powder.
"Nothing." Her voice was hoarse, like she had been crying, or singing, for a long time. "Please leave."
"Is it your time of the month or something?" Vejita stood and began backing out of her room slowly, narrowing his eyes in puzzlement.
Bulma's eyes were empty and her expression strained. She stared blindly ahead at nothing in particular. "Oh Kami, how I wish that were so. LEAVE!"
Rather than feeling insulted over her harsh command, Vejita felt angry. But not at her. Never at her. Her pain was apparent to him, and he could hardly blame her for what she had said. It should have been obvious to him immediately that she hardly knew what she was saying. The image of her trying to rock and sing away her pain would be one that would haunt his dreams long into the night. No, he wasn't angry with her. He was angry in general. He was angry that he couldn't figure her out, not even when all of the clues had been laid out before him. There was most definitely something that she was not telling him, and the fact that he could not figure it out was making him angry.
He slammed the door of his room and made for his balcony. He ignored the bitter cold air and the snow that had piled on the balcony railing and floor and still blew quietly around him. He brushed away a small area on the rail and leaned against it, his expression dark and thoughtful. Christmas was coming up in a few days, shouldn't that be making Bulma happy? Kami knew she had been looking forward to it for weeks. All of the annoying clutter she had strewn about the house had proved that. He suddenly remembered the incident earlier that week, when he had overheard Bulma's angry shouts. And then he remembered her mother and father's shocked reactions to her newest piercing, which she was beginning to wear with pride. He had to admit that he was coming to like it. He smirked at the thought. The woman was becoming nearly as eccentric as he was. What a contest THAT would be. He called up a ball of ki and tossed it up and down restlessly. The hard side of him started taking over, and instead of following his thoughts up to conclusion, he shut them abruptly off and went back into his warm room, more than ready for a long, deep sleep.
But sleep would not find the Saiyan Prince that night.
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(A/N): This has been one of the hardest chapters to write so far. I definitely wanted to get the scene with Bulma singing in, because that's gonna have a lot to do with the sequel (Oops! I've gotta keep my mouth shut! Haha!), but then again it was really, really hard to get down. Believe me, I've spent a LONG time on it. Thanks everybody for the nice reviews, I appreciate your comments! And to Stef-chan: honestly, you must take ego-boosting pills or something. Whatever you're on that makes you so talented, please get me some! I'm nearly finished with my website--who knows, by the time you read this, it might be finished! Please go check it out ASAP. It has the rest of the lyrics to the song Bulma was singing (Yep, it was real!), some spoilers on upcoming fics (Like a sequel to this one, plans for "Youth of the Nation", and a couple ideas for my next fic!), and who knows what else I'll decide to stick on there. I'm no web genius, so its gonna be small and uncomplicated, believe me! Now, please keep up the good work and REVIEW!!!!
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