...........................................................................................LITTLE BLACK DRESS
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
By the time that Vejita made his way downstairs, everyone had arrived, presents had been piled in great heaps beneath the enormous tree, and someone had begun playing loud, pulsating music. Scanning the crowd, he recognized some of the businessmen that came and went with Bulma's father, as well as Bulma's friends and a group of chattering housewives surrounding Mrs. Briefs and Chichi in the kitchen. He felt drawn to the loaded refreshments table, but, having other things on his mind, he passed by it without a second thought.
He had been wandering around, people-watching, for quite some time before he spotted Bulma in the center of the room, shouting to be heard over the music. She was talking to an older man and woman, but he could not make out what they were saying. He stopped his meandering when he got a good look at her outfit.
She must have saved this one black dress after throwing away all of the others, and he could guess why. It was a fabulous garment, and she looked even more fabulous in it. Vejita thought he detected a bit of extra weight around her stomach, but it didn't register. It was black in color, and made of a rich material that clung to all the right places. It was the only dress he'd ever seen her wear, besides her prom dress, that reached the floor. It had a halter-style top with very thin, weak-looking straps and a v-neck that dipped down and then a little to one side. The bottom was assymmetric, with one side reaching down to the floor and trailing behind a bit, and the other going up into a high slit, revealing shimmery skin up past her waistline. Intersecting across this slit were thin straps identical to the ones around her neck. The back was, for the most part, open, stopping at her waist. She wore strappy sandals with straps that wrapped up her calves and looked extremely uncomfortable. She wore a gold arm band and necklace, and diamonds at her ears and in her nose. Her hair was swept up loosely, leaving some trendils to fall out around her face and neck. The outfit was having its intended effect on the men at the party; they stared as they passed. Vejita felt a bit jealous in spite of himself.
He was about to approach her when he felt an unwelcome presence beside him. He glanced over and found himself face-to-face with Yamcha, who reeked of too much cheap cologne. The Saiyan Prince glared at him and prepared to walk away, but was stopped by Yamcha's hand on his arm--a bold move, if there ever was one.
"Get your damned filthy hands off of me," Vejita warned, his voice dangerously low. "Unless you want to lose them, and in that case, I'd be happy to oblige."
Yamcha gestured towards Bulma, who was laughing at a joke someone told her. Her blue eyes were lit up and dancing. "She's beautiful, isn't she? Its a shame that she's going to be off the market soon."
Vejita chuckled, causing Yamcha to stare at him in shock. "Oh really? You have something up your sleeve?"
"As a matter of fact, I do!" Yamcha exclaimed, flustered. He fumbled in his coat for a moment, then pulled out the promise ring. "See? She'll be blown away by how romantic I am, and she won't be able to refuse. I was the one who broke it off, and I'm certain that she has some lingering feelings."
"That's nice and all," Vejita admitted, crossing his arms and smirking. "But you are misinformed. By all means, please, go talk to her."
Yamcha, at a loss of what else to say, threw up his hands. "Unlike YOU, I know what I'm doing, so I'm going to wait until just the right moment."
"And would the right moment be before or after she smacks you?"
"Yeah, well...I-I don't need this from you!" Yamcha stammered, and hurried away from Vejita, who watched him leave, his smirk fading. So, Bulma's Christmas party would not go by smoothly after all. Shaking his head, Vejita looked at Bulma one last time and stormed over to the refreshments table.
Bulma said good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Debussy and flashed them a brilliant smile. They were one of her father's biggest competitors, and much rode on how hostile they decided to be. Bulma figured that every little bit she could do to gain their favor was well worth it. And besides, Mrs. Debussy knew quite a bit about Gucci's upcoming spring line, and she had complimented her on her nose ring. She was glad to know that not all of the older generation was close-minded. The smile remained on her face as she weaved her way out of the center of the crowd, thanking people who commented on her dress, which, of course, was absolutely stunning, and blowing kisses at good friends. When she reached the edge of the crowd, she sighed happily and took a good look around, reveling in all of the Christmas splendor.
The tree was absolutely loaded with decorations and lights, as were the walls and chandeliers and such. Bulma smiled proudly at the dramatic effect the dim lighting and colored lights were having on the room and admired the way the light sparkled off of her diamonds. With a private little laugh she turned on her heel and headed to the refreshments table in search of a drink.
She picked out her drink and carried it over to where she had spotted Goku. He was, not surprisingly, examining the piles of presents beneath the tree. He did not smile at her as she approached, but he did turn curious eyes to her abdomen. She stopped in her tracks and met his troubled eyes with her own.
"Oh, Goku," she breathed, giving him a light hug. She held the embrace and whispered into his ear, her voice wavering. "Please tell me that I'm going to be all right."
Goku felt tears in the corners of his eyes and returned her hug. "I don't have to tell you that, Bulma."
"How did you know?" She pulled away and put a hand to her stomach, shame beginning to show on her face. "Tell me. If Vejita finds out, I don't know what I'll do."
"You haven't told him?" Goku asked incredulously. "Oh man, Bulma, that's asking for it."
Bulma, being careful of her drink, crossed her arms. "I'm going to tell him. I'm just...waiting for the right time. Have a little faith in me, Goku! Now, tell me how you knew."
Goku looked at his feet. "Well, first of all, you are starting to show just a little bit. Only someone who knows you really well would be able to tell, though. And second, I could feel the ki inside of you. Its still weak, but there's no doubt that its there."
"Damn," Bulma muttered. "I was hoping that no one would be able to sense it yet. But if YOU can tell its there, then why hasn't Vejita noticed yet?"
"Selective thinking," Goku suggested. "Chichi tells me that I have it a lot. And maybe also because he really hasn't paid much attention to that kind of thing. From what I can tell, Vejita doesn't put that ability to good use unless he's in battle, or searching for someone. But don't worry, I'm more sensitive to that kind of thing anyway, having gone through it all with Chichi and Gohan." He then smiled mischeviously. "And maybe he's had other things on his mind. By the way, I like your...uh, nose thing."
"Thank you!" Bulma laughed and hugged him again. "Merry Christmas, Son-kun." She left him by the tree, staring longingly at the presents.
Dinner came and went without much trouble, besides a minor incident involving some hostility between Yamcha, who had been strangely quiet the entire evening, and Vejita, who was behaving unusually aggressive, and attacking Yamcha at every opprotunity. Poor Bulma could do nothing but shake her head and pray that nobody else was paying attention. Much to her relief, everyone was much too enraptured with the cheery Christmas Eve atmosphere to dwell on much else. So all thoughts of the incident were pushed out of Bulma's mind, leaving her free to enjoy herself for the remainder of the party.
Content in their slightly druken state of mind, the guests danced and sang the night away until it was time to go home. Bulma, being almost completely exhausted by all of the men she had indulged with a dance that night, was ready to collapse by the time all of the people had left. The only guests who remained were Goku, Chichi, their son Gohan, Yamcha, and Krillen. Her parents hurried around, cleaning up what they could, and Vejita sat sullenly in front of the television, trying to concentrate on the show while Goku chattered away beside him.
Yamcha, always one to show off, decided to spring his offer on Bulma at that moment of peace. She was stretched out, happy to be relaxing, on a couch, with her eyes half-closed, when he approached her. All eyes, including Vejita's, went to him as he knelt down beside the surprised girl.
"What is it?" Bulma asked, almost coldly. "Stand up, for Kami's sake, you're making a scene!"
"That's alright," Yamcha said. "That's how this moment should be. It'll save us the trouble of telling everyone later."
"Tell everyone what?" Bulma sat up, her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I don't appreciate being embarrassed in front of all my friends, Yamcha. If you want to tell me something, then you can tell me when we're alone." Her eyes shifted for a moment to Vejita, who was watching intently. Yamcha noticed and grit his teeth in frustration.
"Listen to me, Bulma," he snapped. "You've changed, that much is obvious to me. You've filled out nicely, and you seem to have recovered from previous...habits...that caused me to break up with you in the first place. I think that if we both gave it a good effort, we could make this--US---work again." His hand went to her face, causing Vejita to stiffen up defensively, and offered a smile. He smiled at the little jewel adorning her perfect nose. "That little diamond stud is actually...quite becoming."
Bulma was too shocked to respond at first. Her mind raced. A little while back, she would have given up everything for what she was being offered now--a second chance. But thinking of her baby, and of all of the things that had been going on, she knew that she couldn't possibly accept, no matter how tempted she felt. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized just how pathetic her situation was. Here she was, on Christmas Eve, pregnant and on the verge of a relationship with the LAST person she would have guessed anything could have happened with, and the supposed 'man of her dreams' that she had been pining over for so long was offering her a chance to escape from it all. She covered her face with her hands and fought to maintain her cool composure. She lost. Her voice was strained and wavering as she spoke, and her eyes overflowed with tears.
"Oh, Kami, Yamcha," she breathed. "You asshole."
Her accusation did not register with Yamcha for a moment. "What--why? Look at what I bought you, B-chan!" He revealed the glittering promise ring, which only caused Bulma to sob even harder. "Tell me what's wrong, baby."
Bulma pushed him aside and got off the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. "When you broke up with me, you said it was for forever, and at first, I didn't believe you. A few weeks ago, I would have given ANYTHING for this moment to happen." She threw up her hands, and met Vejita's eye again, and, when he looked away, she felt a second wave of tears coming on. "And even if I still wanted it now, which I DON'T, I couldn't accept."
Yamcha, rather than being angry, was now thoroughly confused. "Well, why the hell not?"
Goku tensed noticeably beside Vejita, who turned to him, enraged. "You know why, you ignorant fool! Tell me!" he insisted quietly.
Goku shook his head and kept his eyes on Bulma and Yamcha, who were engaged in a silent staring contest. "Just let her tell him, Vejita."
"I-I can't tell you," Bulma said softly. "Its none of your business, Yamcha."
"Damn," Vejita growled.
Yamcha nodded slowly, quiet anger in his eyes. "I know what this is about. Its about YOU, and that--that--arrogant, cold-hearted murderer, isn't it?"
"Correct on all counts, for once in your life," Vejita growled, growing sick of Yamcha already. "If its bothering you so much, then why don't you just shut the fuck up and LEAVE?"
"Well," Yamcha huffed, shoving the ring back into his pocket and making for the door. "Maybe I WILL! Come with me, Krillen, unless you wanna WALK home."
With a hasty 'Merry Christmas' to the stunned guests, Krillen followed Yamcha out the door.
Bulma collapsed back onto her couch, staring ahead numbly. "How dare he."
Goku hurried to her side. "Gosh, Bulma, I'm so sorry about that!"
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Bulma said monotonously. "Only Yamcha is to blame."
Goku returned to his place beside Chichi and Gohan, who had thankfully remained silent throughout the entire exchange. But Chichi was not going to hold her sharp tongue for very much longer.
"I've said it once and I'll say it again, Bulma Briefs," she started coldly. "You are disgusting. Poor Yamcha was offering you the best thing that could happen to a pathetic little whore like you. Just look at the fix you're in! You go right from one man to another. I suppose I could accept that, but considering what man you chose, I'm going to make an exception. My husband may want to continue having relations with you, but, for the second and last time, I'm going to take my son and LEAVE. Merry Christmas."
Bulma was unable to withstand any more. With a furious little squeal, she launched herself at Chichi and rained a flurry of slaps on the shocked older woman, who retaliated with just as much rage. Goku and Vejita froze in shock, and Gohan hid behind the couch, little tears falling from his eyes.
"You insufferable, evil little BITCH!" Bulma ranted, grabbing a fistful of hair and ripping at it savagely. "How dare you insult me in my own house! And on Christmas Eve!"
Chichi, who was not nearly as physically fit as Bulma was, struggling from underneath her. "I'll insult whomever I chose to!"
Goku fell into a frenzied state of mind, not seeming to have the mental capacity to choose sides. He picked up Gohan and held him close, watching the fight with wide deer eyes. Vejita, however, planned on stopping the ridiculous affair immediately, though he was rather enjoying the sight of Bulma cat-fighting in her skimpy little black dress. He gently took her by the shoulders and pulled her off of Goku's wife, who hurried to her feet and glared with all her might. He jokingly pulled a loose strand of hair and whispered in her ear.
"Kami, woman, if I had known that you could fight like that I would have provoked her a long time ago."
Bulma shook his hands off and held Chichi's gaze, her blue eyes smoldering with fury. "If you're enjoying it so much, then why don't you let me finish it?!"
"Because you are not yourself, for whatever reason," he said, crossing his arms. "And believe me, I'm going to get it out of you later." He brushed past her and approached Chichi slowly. "Easy, girl..."
"Don't come a step nearer, or I'll cave your face in!" the angry woman screeched. "Goku!"
Vejita smirked and delivered a quick smack to the woman, whose reflexes were not nearly fast enough to allow her to defend herself, or even retaliate. "You might want to THINK before you open your enormous trap next time, you annoying little harpy."
Goku, who was fortunately smart enough to know when it was time to walk away, gathered up his wife and son, and after a swift, friendly kiss to Bulma's cheek and a nod in Vejita's direction, ventured out into the blustery night.
"Why can't I have a party, just ONE party, where everything goes smoothly?" Bulma groaned, taking down her ruined hairdo and leaving her locks to fall around her bare shoulders. She made an unconciously alluring picture for Vejita, who was sick of looking at all of the overdone women who had attended the party that night. Suddenly she went a bit green around the edges. "Oh Kami, what is wrong with me?"
"You tell me," Vejita snapped, on the defensive. "You will tell Kakkarott, but you would rather keep whatever it is to yourself than tell me, wouldn't you?"
Bulma looked over at him with weary, red-rimmed eyes and smiled faintly. "Oh, Vejita, do you really want to know?" She rose from her seat and wandered over to the Christmas tree, which was still glowing with all of its decoration. Her fingers carressed the sharp needles absently. Her eyes were clouded over in thought. "You know, I used to love Christmas."
"And what changed that?" Vejita asked, exasperated. He was growing sick of her procrastinating, and he was harboring a horrible headache.
"Tonight." She laughed and sat beneath the tree, among the piles of discarded wrapping paper and boxes. "But I think that there might be an atonement coming to me."
"When?" Vejita demanded. "I'm getting sick of your mood-swings."
"Well, I can't be too sure as to EXACTLY when, but I'm guessing that I'll have to wait...a few months," Bulma's eyes shone like what she was telling him was somehow significant, but Vejita's biased mind did not catch on so quickly.
"Come out with it already!"
Bulma's face fell, and an unmistakable expression of disappointment darkened her face. When she spoke, her voice was small and injured. "Nevermind. I'm just--blithering on mindlessly. I'm tired, I guess." In attempts to recover, she put on a false smile and posed like a fashion model. "I think that my dress made quite a sensation, though. You know what's pathetic? I was saving this for the night that Yamcha proposed to me, and look what happened."
"I fail to see any humor in that," Vejita said, crossing the room to stand above her. His dark, unreadable eyes burned holes straight into her soul. "You'll tell me soon enough, woman. Merry Christmas." He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but had decided against it. Bulma sighed as he turned and stalked upstairs, leaving her alone in the living room. The tree she sat beneath, the one that had originally given her so much joy, only served as a reminder of all the things that she would never have, starting with a 'Merry Christmas'.
When Bulma picked herself up and made it up to Vejita's room that night, he was fast asleep, snoring lightly. She slowly discarded her jewels, let down the remainder of her hair, and unbound herself from the restrains of her wonderful dress. She allowed herself a long, indulging stare at the beautiful garment before carelessy stuffing it into the garbage, where the rest of her 'little black dresses' now made their home. Her slightly bloated stomach had stretched the fabric--it would never be the same anyway. She kicked her shoes noisily at a wall, in hopes to both get rid of them and perhaps wake her apparently exhausted lover, and was rather unsuccessful in both. She bent down, frustrated, and ripped them off of her feet.
She wasn't at all afraid to slip in beneath the covers, even though the man who was currently occupying the spot beside her might have scared her off in other days. She figured that if she really was going to have this baby--how she dreaded that awful word!--then she might as well be comfortable while she still could. letting out one final deep, discontented sigh, Bulma allowed her mind and body to be claimed by a restless state of sleep--for a little while, at least.
Vejita, who, over the years, had gained much practice at pretending to be both asleep and dead, could hear her every movement, even the long sigh she let out before she settled down beside him. He supposed that he should have felt angry at this, because he knew that it was directed at his stubbornness or whatever it was that had pissed her off today, but instead he felt strangely well, sad. Even the cold, aloof Prince of the Saiyans was not low enough to revel in the pain of 'his woman'. He grimaced at the expression that he knew would be his undoing.
What the hell was he doing, anyway? Prince Vejita would never tie himself down like that! He would never succumb willingly to the good old 'ball and chain', as men on this planet were so fond of calling permanent relationships. But, lo and behold, look at him now! Though he could not picture the almost painfully beautiful Bulma Briefs a doting housewife, destined to make her husband's life dull and uneventful, he could easily see her being the woman that finally did to him what that horrible Chichi woman had done to Goku--make him weak, a victim of his own emotions. Vejita shuddered and turned over.
Bulma had thrown away her dress in obvious disgust--what was it that would cause her to do such a thing? It may have been the dress that she had been hoping to be the one that Yamcha proposed to her in, but he didn't think that even in her most unstable state of mind she would waste a dress like THAT. He smirked, thinking of how bitterly jealous that fool Yamcha must be at that moment, alone in his bed, knowing that he, the 'evil, murderous' Vejita had what he would never have again.
Not completely asleep yet, Bulma felt him shift beside her and wondered if he were feeling as shitty as she was.
On Christmas morning, Mrs. Briefs sat in the living room, staring at the beautiful tree with sorrowful eyes. Nobody came downstairs to look for presents, and she very much doubted that anybody would. Not this year. She wasn't as thickheaded as she seemed, so she could guess at the nature of the bad turn Bulma's party had taken the night before. And she could also guess that Bulma had failed to tell Vejita about his unborn child, as she had planned to do. She was sure that if she had, the house would not be as quiet as it was now.
The elderly woman put her head in her hands and exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping. She willed herself to be strong, not only for herself, but also for her daughter and the half-Saiyan baby growing inside of her. Kami knew that they'd need it. Yes, there was no doubt that the New Year would be an interesting one. With a weary body and tired heart, she stood and took one last look at the Christmas tree before setting about dismantling it, alone on the holiest day of the year.
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(A/N): Wow, that was extremely difficult. Sorry about the slow updating on this chapter! Technically, this is the last one (OmG! Would you BELIEVE it?!), but there WILL be an Epilogue! LOL I'm not THAT evil...and beyond the Epilogue will be a sequel, though you might have to wait until I've completed "Youth of the Nation" first. I'm sorry! Please check out my site, and help me with my research (Its explained on the site...)! And above all, Happy Holidays! Give me an early present and review nicely!
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.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
By the time that Vejita made his way downstairs, everyone had arrived, presents had been piled in great heaps beneath the enormous tree, and someone had begun playing loud, pulsating music. Scanning the crowd, he recognized some of the businessmen that came and went with Bulma's father, as well as Bulma's friends and a group of chattering housewives surrounding Mrs. Briefs and Chichi in the kitchen. He felt drawn to the loaded refreshments table, but, having other things on his mind, he passed by it without a second thought.
He had been wandering around, people-watching, for quite some time before he spotted Bulma in the center of the room, shouting to be heard over the music. She was talking to an older man and woman, but he could not make out what they were saying. He stopped his meandering when he got a good look at her outfit.
She must have saved this one black dress after throwing away all of the others, and he could guess why. It was a fabulous garment, and she looked even more fabulous in it. Vejita thought he detected a bit of extra weight around her stomach, but it didn't register. It was black in color, and made of a rich material that clung to all the right places. It was the only dress he'd ever seen her wear, besides her prom dress, that reached the floor. It had a halter-style top with very thin, weak-looking straps and a v-neck that dipped down and then a little to one side. The bottom was assymmetric, with one side reaching down to the floor and trailing behind a bit, and the other going up into a high slit, revealing shimmery skin up past her waistline. Intersecting across this slit were thin straps identical to the ones around her neck. The back was, for the most part, open, stopping at her waist. She wore strappy sandals with straps that wrapped up her calves and looked extremely uncomfortable. She wore a gold arm band and necklace, and diamonds at her ears and in her nose. Her hair was swept up loosely, leaving some trendils to fall out around her face and neck. The outfit was having its intended effect on the men at the party; they stared as they passed. Vejita felt a bit jealous in spite of himself.
He was about to approach her when he felt an unwelcome presence beside him. He glanced over and found himself face-to-face with Yamcha, who reeked of too much cheap cologne. The Saiyan Prince glared at him and prepared to walk away, but was stopped by Yamcha's hand on his arm--a bold move, if there ever was one.
"Get your damned filthy hands off of me," Vejita warned, his voice dangerously low. "Unless you want to lose them, and in that case, I'd be happy to oblige."
Yamcha gestured towards Bulma, who was laughing at a joke someone told her. Her blue eyes were lit up and dancing. "She's beautiful, isn't she? Its a shame that she's going to be off the market soon."
Vejita chuckled, causing Yamcha to stare at him in shock. "Oh really? You have something up your sleeve?"
"As a matter of fact, I do!" Yamcha exclaimed, flustered. He fumbled in his coat for a moment, then pulled out the promise ring. "See? She'll be blown away by how romantic I am, and she won't be able to refuse. I was the one who broke it off, and I'm certain that she has some lingering feelings."
"That's nice and all," Vejita admitted, crossing his arms and smirking. "But you are misinformed. By all means, please, go talk to her."
Yamcha, at a loss of what else to say, threw up his hands. "Unlike YOU, I know what I'm doing, so I'm going to wait until just the right moment."
"And would the right moment be before or after she smacks you?"
"Yeah, well...I-I don't need this from you!" Yamcha stammered, and hurried away from Vejita, who watched him leave, his smirk fading. So, Bulma's Christmas party would not go by smoothly after all. Shaking his head, Vejita looked at Bulma one last time and stormed over to the refreshments table.
Bulma said good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Debussy and flashed them a brilliant smile. They were one of her father's biggest competitors, and much rode on how hostile they decided to be. Bulma figured that every little bit she could do to gain their favor was well worth it. And besides, Mrs. Debussy knew quite a bit about Gucci's upcoming spring line, and she had complimented her on her nose ring. She was glad to know that not all of the older generation was close-minded. The smile remained on her face as she weaved her way out of the center of the crowd, thanking people who commented on her dress, which, of course, was absolutely stunning, and blowing kisses at good friends. When she reached the edge of the crowd, she sighed happily and took a good look around, reveling in all of the Christmas splendor.
The tree was absolutely loaded with decorations and lights, as were the walls and chandeliers and such. Bulma smiled proudly at the dramatic effect the dim lighting and colored lights were having on the room and admired the way the light sparkled off of her diamonds. With a private little laugh she turned on her heel and headed to the refreshments table in search of a drink.
She picked out her drink and carried it over to where she had spotted Goku. He was, not surprisingly, examining the piles of presents beneath the tree. He did not smile at her as she approached, but he did turn curious eyes to her abdomen. She stopped in her tracks and met his troubled eyes with her own.
"Oh, Goku," she breathed, giving him a light hug. She held the embrace and whispered into his ear, her voice wavering. "Please tell me that I'm going to be all right."
Goku felt tears in the corners of his eyes and returned her hug. "I don't have to tell you that, Bulma."
"How did you know?" She pulled away and put a hand to her stomach, shame beginning to show on her face. "Tell me. If Vejita finds out, I don't know what I'll do."
"You haven't told him?" Goku asked incredulously. "Oh man, Bulma, that's asking for it."
Bulma, being careful of her drink, crossed her arms. "I'm going to tell him. I'm just...waiting for the right time. Have a little faith in me, Goku! Now, tell me how you knew."
Goku looked at his feet. "Well, first of all, you are starting to show just a little bit. Only someone who knows you really well would be able to tell, though. And second, I could feel the ki inside of you. Its still weak, but there's no doubt that its there."
"Damn," Bulma muttered. "I was hoping that no one would be able to sense it yet. But if YOU can tell its there, then why hasn't Vejita noticed yet?"
"Selective thinking," Goku suggested. "Chichi tells me that I have it a lot. And maybe also because he really hasn't paid much attention to that kind of thing. From what I can tell, Vejita doesn't put that ability to good use unless he's in battle, or searching for someone. But don't worry, I'm more sensitive to that kind of thing anyway, having gone through it all with Chichi and Gohan." He then smiled mischeviously. "And maybe he's had other things on his mind. By the way, I like your...uh, nose thing."
"Thank you!" Bulma laughed and hugged him again. "Merry Christmas, Son-kun." She left him by the tree, staring longingly at the presents.
Dinner came and went without much trouble, besides a minor incident involving some hostility between Yamcha, who had been strangely quiet the entire evening, and Vejita, who was behaving unusually aggressive, and attacking Yamcha at every opprotunity. Poor Bulma could do nothing but shake her head and pray that nobody else was paying attention. Much to her relief, everyone was much too enraptured with the cheery Christmas Eve atmosphere to dwell on much else. So all thoughts of the incident were pushed out of Bulma's mind, leaving her free to enjoy herself for the remainder of the party.
Content in their slightly druken state of mind, the guests danced and sang the night away until it was time to go home. Bulma, being almost completely exhausted by all of the men she had indulged with a dance that night, was ready to collapse by the time all of the people had left. The only guests who remained were Goku, Chichi, their son Gohan, Yamcha, and Krillen. Her parents hurried around, cleaning up what they could, and Vejita sat sullenly in front of the television, trying to concentrate on the show while Goku chattered away beside him.
Yamcha, always one to show off, decided to spring his offer on Bulma at that moment of peace. She was stretched out, happy to be relaxing, on a couch, with her eyes half-closed, when he approached her. All eyes, including Vejita's, went to him as he knelt down beside the surprised girl.
"What is it?" Bulma asked, almost coldly. "Stand up, for Kami's sake, you're making a scene!"
"That's alright," Yamcha said. "That's how this moment should be. It'll save us the trouble of telling everyone later."
"Tell everyone what?" Bulma sat up, her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I don't appreciate being embarrassed in front of all my friends, Yamcha. If you want to tell me something, then you can tell me when we're alone." Her eyes shifted for a moment to Vejita, who was watching intently. Yamcha noticed and grit his teeth in frustration.
"Listen to me, Bulma," he snapped. "You've changed, that much is obvious to me. You've filled out nicely, and you seem to have recovered from previous...habits...that caused me to break up with you in the first place. I think that if we both gave it a good effort, we could make this--US---work again." His hand went to her face, causing Vejita to stiffen up defensively, and offered a smile. He smiled at the little jewel adorning her perfect nose. "That little diamond stud is actually...quite becoming."
Bulma was too shocked to respond at first. Her mind raced. A little while back, she would have given up everything for what she was being offered now--a second chance. But thinking of her baby, and of all of the things that had been going on, she knew that she couldn't possibly accept, no matter how tempted she felt. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized just how pathetic her situation was. Here she was, on Christmas Eve, pregnant and on the verge of a relationship with the LAST person she would have guessed anything could have happened with, and the supposed 'man of her dreams' that she had been pining over for so long was offering her a chance to escape from it all. She covered her face with her hands and fought to maintain her cool composure. She lost. Her voice was strained and wavering as she spoke, and her eyes overflowed with tears.
"Oh, Kami, Yamcha," she breathed. "You asshole."
Her accusation did not register with Yamcha for a moment. "What--why? Look at what I bought you, B-chan!" He revealed the glittering promise ring, which only caused Bulma to sob even harder. "Tell me what's wrong, baby."
Bulma pushed him aside and got off the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. "When you broke up with me, you said it was for forever, and at first, I didn't believe you. A few weeks ago, I would have given ANYTHING for this moment to happen." She threw up her hands, and met Vejita's eye again, and, when he looked away, she felt a second wave of tears coming on. "And even if I still wanted it now, which I DON'T, I couldn't accept."
Yamcha, rather than being angry, was now thoroughly confused. "Well, why the hell not?"
Goku tensed noticeably beside Vejita, who turned to him, enraged. "You know why, you ignorant fool! Tell me!" he insisted quietly.
Goku shook his head and kept his eyes on Bulma and Yamcha, who were engaged in a silent staring contest. "Just let her tell him, Vejita."
"I-I can't tell you," Bulma said softly. "Its none of your business, Yamcha."
"Damn," Vejita growled.
Yamcha nodded slowly, quiet anger in his eyes. "I know what this is about. Its about YOU, and that--that--arrogant, cold-hearted murderer, isn't it?"
"Correct on all counts, for once in your life," Vejita growled, growing sick of Yamcha already. "If its bothering you so much, then why don't you just shut the fuck up and LEAVE?"
"Well," Yamcha huffed, shoving the ring back into his pocket and making for the door. "Maybe I WILL! Come with me, Krillen, unless you wanna WALK home."
With a hasty 'Merry Christmas' to the stunned guests, Krillen followed Yamcha out the door.
Bulma collapsed back onto her couch, staring ahead numbly. "How dare he."
Goku hurried to her side. "Gosh, Bulma, I'm so sorry about that!"
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Bulma said monotonously. "Only Yamcha is to blame."
Goku returned to his place beside Chichi and Gohan, who had thankfully remained silent throughout the entire exchange. But Chichi was not going to hold her sharp tongue for very much longer.
"I've said it once and I'll say it again, Bulma Briefs," she started coldly. "You are disgusting. Poor Yamcha was offering you the best thing that could happen to a pathetic little whore like you. Just look at the fix you're in! You go right from one man to another. I suppose I could accept that, but considering what man you chose, I'm going to make an exception. My husband may want to continue having relations with you, but, for the second and last time, I'm going to take my son and LEAVE. Merry Christmas."
Bulma was unable to withstand any more. With a furious little squeal, she launched herself at Chichi and rained a flurry of slaps on the shocked older woman, who retaliated with just as much rage. Goku and Vejita froze in shock, and Gohan hid behind the couch, little tears falling from his eyes.
"You insufferable, evil little BITCH!" Bulma ranted, grabbing a fistful of hair and ripping at it savagely. "How dare you insult me in my own house! And on Christmas Eve!"
Chichi, who was not nearly as physically fit as Bulma was, struggling from underneath her. "I'll insult whomever I chose to!"
Goku fell into a frenzied state of mind, not seeming to have the mental capacity to choose sides. He picked up Gohan and held him close, watching the fight with wide deer eyes. Vejita, however, planned on stopping the ridiculous affair immediately, though he was rather enjoying the sight of Bulma cat-fighting in her skimpy little black dress. He gently took her by the shoulders and pulled her off of Goku's wife, who hurried to her feet and glared with all her might. He jokingly pulled a loose strand of hair and whispered in her ear.
"Kami, woman, if I had known that you could fight like that I would have provoked her a long time ago."
Bulma shook his hands off and held Chichi's gaze, her blue eyes smoldering with fury. "If you're enjoying it so much, then why don't you let me finish it?!"
"Because you are not yourself, for whatever reason," he said, crossing his arms. "And believe me, I'm going to get it out of you later." He brushed past her and approached Chichi slowly. "Easy, girl..."
"Don't come a step nearer, or I'll cave your face in!" the angry woman screeched. "Goku!"
Vejita smirked and delivered a quick smack to the woman, whose reflexes were not nearly fast enough to allow her to defend herself, or even retaliate. "You might want to THINK before you open your enormous trap next time, you annoying little harpy."
Goku, who was fortunately smart enough to know when it was time to walk away, gathered up his wife and son, and after a swift, friendly kiss to Bulma's cheek and a nod in Vejita's direction, ventured out into the blustery night.
"Why can't I have a party, just ONE party, where everything goes smoothly?" Bulma groaned, taking down her ruined hairdo and leaving her locks to fall around her bare shoulders. She made an unconciously alluring picture for Vejita, who was sick of looking at all of the overdone women who had attended the party that night. Suddenly she went a bit green around the edges. "Oh Kami, what is wrong with me?"
"You tell me," Vejita snapped, on the defensive. "You will tell Kakkarott, but you would rather keep whatever it is to yourself than tell me, wouldn't you?"
Bulma looked over at him with weary, red-rimmed eyes and smiled faintly. "Oh, Vejita, do you really want to know?" She rose from her seat and wandered over to the Christmas tree, which was still glowing with all of its decoration. Her fingers carressed the sharp needles absently. Her eyes were clouded over in thought. "You know, I used to love Christmas."
"And what changed that?" Vejita asked, exasperated. He was growing sick of her procrastinating, and he was harboring a horrible headache.
"Tonight." She laughed and sat beneath the tree, among the piles of discarded wrapping paper and boxes. "But I think that there might be an atonement coming to me."
"When?" Vejita demanded. "I'm getting sick of your mood-swings."
"Well, I can't be too sure as to EXACTLY when, but I'm guessing that I'll have to wait...a few months," Bulma's eyes shone like what she was telling him was somehow significant, but Vejita's biased mind did not catch on so quickly.
"Come out with it already!"
Bulma's face fell, and an unmistakable expression of disappointment darkened her face. When she spoke, her voice was small and injured. "Nevermind. I'm just--blithering on mindlessly. I'm tired, I guess." In attempts to recover, she put on a false smile and posed like a fashion model. "I think that my dress made quite a sensation, though. You know what's pathetic? I was saving this for the night that Yamcha proposed to me, and look what happened."
"I fail to see any humor in that," Vejita said, crossing the room to stand above her. His dark, unreadable eyes burned holes straight into her soul. "You'll tell me soon enough, woman. Merry Christmas." He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but had decided against it. Bulma sighed as he turned and stalked upstairs, leaving her alone in the living room. The tree she sat beneath, the one that had originally given her so much joy, only served as a reminder of all the things that she would never have, starting with a 'Merry Christmas'.
When Bulma picked herself up and made it up to Vejita's room that night, he was fast asleep, snoring lightly. She slowly discarded her jewels, let down the remainder of her hair, and unbound herself from the restrains of her wonderful dress. She allowed herself a long, indulging stare at the beautiful garment before carelessy stuffing it into the garbage, where the rest of her 'little black dresses' now made their home. Her slightly bloated stomach had stretched the fabric--it would never be the same anyway. She kicked her shoes noisily at a wall, in hopes to both get rid of them and perhaps wake her apparently exhausted lover, and was rather unsuccessful in both. She bent down, frustrated, and ripped them off of her feet.
She wasn't at all afraid to slip in beneath the covers, even though the man who was currently occupying the spot beside her might have scared her off in other days. She figured that if she really was going to have this baby--how she dreaded that awful word!--then she might as well be comfortable while she still could. letting out one final deep, discontented sigh, Bulma allowed her mind and body to be claimed by a restless state of sleep--for a little while, at least.
Vejita, who, over the years, had gained much practice at pretending to be both asleep and dead, could hear her every movement, even the long sigh she let out before she settled down beside him. He supposed that he should have felt angry at this, because he knew that it was directed at his stubbornness or whatever it was that had pissed her off today, but instead he felt strangely well, sad. Even the cold, aloof Prince of the Saiyans was not low enough to revel in the pain of 'his woman'. He grimaced at the expression that he knew would be his undoing.
What the hell was he doing, anyway? Prince Vejita would never tie himself down like that! He would never succumb willingly to the good old 'ball and chain', as men on this planet were so fond of calling permanent relationships. But, lo and behold, look at him now! Though he could not picture the almost painfully beautiful Bulma Briefs a doting housewife, destined to make her husband's life dull and uneventful, he could easily see her being the woman that finally did to him what that horrible Chichi woman had done to Goku--make him weak, a victim of his own emotions. Vejita shuddered and turned over.
Bulma had thrown away her dress in obvious disgust--what was it that would cause her to do such a thing? It may have been the dress that she had been hoping to be the one that Yamcha proposed to her in, but he didn't think that even in her most unstable state of mind she would waste a dress like THAT. He smirked, thinking of how bitterly jealous that fool Yamcha must be at that moment, alone in his bed, knowing that he, the 'evil, murderous' Vejita had what he would never have again.
Not completely asleep yet, Bulma felt him shift beside her and wondered if he were feeling as shitty as she was.
On Christmas morning, Mrs. Briefs sat in the living room, staring at the beautiful tree with sorrowful eyes. Nobody came downstairs to look for presents, and she very much doubted that anybody would. Not this year. She wasn't as thickheaded as she seemed, so she could guess at the nature of the bad turn Bulma's party had taken the night before. And she could also guess that Bulma had failed to tell Vejita about his unborn child, as she had planned to do. She was sure that if she had, the house would not be as quiet as it was now.
The elderly woman put her head in her hands and exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping. She willed herself to be strong, not only for herself, but also for her daughter and the half-Saiyan baby growing inside of her. Kami knew that they'd need it. Yes, there was no doubt that the New Year would be an interesting one. With a weary body and tired heart, she stood and took one last look at the Christmas tree before setting about dismantling it, alone on the holiest day of the year.
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(A/N): Wow, that was extremely difficult. Sorry about the slow updating on this chapter! Technically, this is the last one (OmG! Would you BELIEVE it?!), but there WILL be an Epilogue! LOL I'm not THAT evil...and beyond the Epilogue will be a sequel, though you might have to wait until I've completed "Youth of the Nation" first. I'm sorry! Please check out my site, and help me with my research (Its explained on the site...)! And above all, Happy Holidays! Give me an early present and review nicely!
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