...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
"Bulma, you have a call on line uhh...four I believe," Tammy, Bulma's secretary, shouted over the chaos in the main office of Capsule Corp. "They claimed that it was urgent!"
Bulma sighed, set aside the stack of contracts she had to sign, hung up on the politician she was arguing with, and switched her speaker phone over to the appropriate line. "This is Bulma Briefs, how may I help you?" She motioned for Tammy to shut her door and settled back into her leather chair.
"Wowee, Bulma, your business is like...all official and everything!"
"Goku!" Bulma exclaimed in irritation. "How many times have I reminded you NOT to call me here! If you want to get a hold of Vejita, you'll have to call the home number."
"Aw, I'm sorry...have I ever done that before?" Goku asked. Bulma could easily picture him scratching the back of his head in embarrasment. "I didn't want to talk to Vejita, though, I wanted to talk to YOU right now! Isn't that great?"
Bulma ran a hand through her hair and rolled her eyes, grateful that Goku had not visited the office this time. "Goku, you're going to have to spit it out because I'm very busy right now. You know who the President of the United States of America is, don't you? Well, he's on line one and he's also a very busy man. I'm sure that we would both appreciate your speed! My secretary said that it was important, so can we get to the 'important' part please?"
Goku laughed. "Oh yeah, that! Vejita and I are going to spar later this afternoon, so you're gonna hafta take care of Trunks when you get home. Vejita says that he isn't going to become your personal babysitter, whatever that means to you."
Bulma gritted her teeth and supressed the urge to scream. "Thank you, Goku. Give Vejita a nice blow to the jaw for me, alright? Give the bastard what's coming to him." Before Goku could protest, she hung up the phone and transferred over to the President's line. "Mr. President? I'm terribly sorry about that. Just business as usual..."d
Tammy, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, picked up on the tenseness in Bulma's voice. She frowned, flipped through her phone book, and dialed up Mrs. Briefs. Little Trunks had better hope that his mother would cool down this time.
Hours later, Bulma cut short her meeting with the head scientists of the company and hurried out of the compound. She looked down at her gold watch and swore under her breath--she was over an hour late--and picked up the pace a bit, ignoring the searing pain in her feet resulting from jogging in high heels. When she finally burst through the door of the mansion, Mrs. Briefs had taken her position on a nearby chair, arms crossed and eyes disapproving.
"I suppose that you have an excuse for being late this time around."
Bulma nodded and set down her briefcase. "I had this stubborn ass of a scientist who would not agree to--" She stopped at the saddened expression on her mother's aging face. "What is it, Mom?"
Mrs. Briefs sighed and looked down at her hands. "Its nothing, dear. I had just always hoped that...well, that you would grow out of your irresponsibility. I can't help but feel disappointed." Then she stood and began to leave. "I'll be home at around the usual time."
Bulma could only stare, shocked, after her mother as she left. Words could not describe what she was feeling at the moment. Shock. Anger. Denial. Sadness. There's something truly wrong when your own mother can say that you are a disappointment, Bulma thought to herself. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts and remain focused, she picked her briefcase up again and crossed the room into the kitchen, where Trunks was finishing off his mid-afternoon snack.
"Hi Mommy!" he greeted cheerfully. "Guess what? I drawed a horsey today. Gramma even putted it on the fridge! Wanna see?" His bright young eyes were dancing with pride.
Bulma looked up briefly, only catching half of what her son was saying. "Oh! That's nice, honey. When did your father leave?"
Trunks' eyes darkened and became full of disappointment. "I dunno. Prolly 'round lunchtime." With another downcast look towards his preoccupied mother and then to his 'masterpiece' on the refridgerator, he picked up his plate, put it in the sink, and walked slowly out of the room and up the stairs.
"Where are you going, Trunks?" Bulma shouted after him, hands on her hips.
"My room!"
"Your ROOM?!" Bulma demanded. "Don't you think that you play enough video games already? Get your ass back down here, please!" She didn't wait to see if he obeyed, she merely went back to shuffling through her papers, searching for a memo.
Trunks appeared back in the doorway. "Then what can I do, Mommy? You just told me to go 'way..."
Bulma waved a hand in his direction. "Shut up for a minute, can't you see that I'm busy?" She found the memo and settled into a chair with it. Upon reading its contents, her fingers went to the ring in her nose, as they often did when she was becoming stressed. "Shit! I thought I told those idiots to cancel that account..."
"What account?" Trunks asked eagerly, taking the chair beside his mother with renewed happiness.
"Dammit, Trunks!" Bulma screeched. Suddenly and without warning, she seized his arm and practically pushed him out of his chair to the floor. "I told you before to keep your mouth shut!" With a roll of her eyes, she went back to studying the memo, her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You're mean!" Trunks screamed defiantly. "You're meaner even than Daddy!"
Bulma slammed her papers back onto the counter and got up out of her chair just in time to catch Trunks, who had begun to flee, by the back of his shirt. "You little brat!" she scolded. "I am NOT meaner than your father!"
"Uh-huh!" Trunks argued, sticking his little pink tongue out at Bulma, who was getting red in the face.
"Uh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Uh-uh...what the fuck am I doing?" Bulma recomposed herself and smacked Trunks smartly across the face. She left a bright pink handprint behind. "Now you'd better get out of my sight before I get REALLY mad!"
After shooting her one last bold look through his tears, Trunks turned and ran out of the room and out of sight. Bulma sighed and climbed back onto her chair. All of a sudden, she felt disgusted with herself. Here she was, technically single and quickly approaching age twenty-five, and she couldn't even hold her emotions in check around her own child. The memos and documents before her suddenly lost their importance. Bulma moved them aside, put her head in her hands, and took a deep breath.
"Calm down, Bulma!" she reminded herself. "You're beginning to act a little like Vejita, and that's scary."
It was true. Bulma wondered if, at this alarming rate, she would be more violent than Vejita himself by the time Trunks was half-way through with his childhood. She shuddered at the thought and, in the heat of the moment, pulled a cigarette out from her briefcase, lit it, and took a long drag. She had picked up the bad habit ever since her father had died and her cravings for certain...substances began coming back in full force. Cigarettes didn't chase them away, but they made them a hell of a lot easier to deal with. She had had to do a lot of growing up during that time, so she figured that she owed it to herself to give in a little bit. Bulma finished her cigarette and found herself lighting up another one almost immediately after without realizing it. Okay, she had given in a lot, but what was a girl to do?
Glancing down at her watch, Bulma realized that if what Trunks had said was true, than Vejita had been gone for hours now. Shaking her head in frustration, the girl contemplated calling Goku's house to order him to come back, but decided against it. She and her 'mate' were alike in many ways, and she knew instinctively that that would only piss them both off more, and that was something that she would definitely be wiser to avoid. And then, without warning, the phone rang. Bulma nearly fell out of her seat in surprise.
"Hello?"
"Hello yourself." Chichi's voice was calm, cool, and collected, as usual when she was speaking to Bulma these days. "Since your hus-- I mean, Vejita, is too lazy to pick his ass up and come to the phone, it was left to me to invite you over for dinner."
"For dinner?" Bulma asked incredulously. "But I'm watching Trunks right now, and--"
Chichi cut her off abruptly. "Oh damn, then I guess that you can't come."
Bulma's blood boiled at the prospect of Chichi getting off that easily. "Well, actually, my mother will be returning shortly, so its entirely possible. I suppose I'll be seeing you soon."
"That's fine," Chichi snapped. "Good-bye for now."
Bulma made a face at the phone and hung up. "Good-bye my ass! Evil bitch..." All thoughts of anything besides making Chichi's dinner as miserable as possible vanished from her mind, and the determined girl stampeded to her bedroom in search of something to wear.
The devious girl left her house forty-five minutes later, after turning the sulking Trunks over to her mother, who was also in a bad mood. Bulma ignored her sarcasm and instead concentrated on elaborating her plans. She hadn't been able to come up with anything concrete, but it was the little things that really mattered, wasn't it? She had heard that somewhere... Anyway, she stepped out into the summer evening expecting to take her SUV, but upon reaching it, she got a better idea.
Bulma turned on her heel and entered the enormous garage, where every kind of foreign and custom-designed car and motorbike imaginable could be found. It didn't take her long to find the one she wanted--the fire-engine red Ferrari that her father had purchased as a present for Vejita--but finding the keys was another matter. It took her another fifteen minutes just to determine which set belonged to the beautiful machine.
"Shit, shit shit..." Bulma growled as she slid into the driver's seat and revved the purring engine. It took her a few moments to get her foot steady (driving in high-heels was something that she tried never to do, especially in a powerful car such as this one), but instead of hesitating any further, she backed hastily out of the garage and burned rubber almost all the way to Chichi and Goku's house.
When she finally arrived there, the sun was just beginning to set, and all was quiet around the remote location. Bulma wrinkled her nose in disgust and pulled down her sunglasses as she got out of her car. If anyone important saw her in such a dinky little rustic place, she would never be able to live it down! She locked the car and blew it a mischevious kiss before heading up to the front porch of the small home. Not surprisingly, Chichi took her sweet time answering the door.
"Oh, so you decided to show up," she acknowledged coolly. "How...nice."
"Bitch," Bulma muttered under her breath as she followed Chichi into the house. Before stepping into the main room, Bulma slid her sweater off of her shoulders and grinned. "So, Chichi, how do you like my dress?"
Chichi looked over her shoulder, prepared with a biting remark, but it died before it could cross her lips. Bulma was wearing an almost impossibly tiny, nearly transparent floral patterned sundress. It reached to about mid-thigh and had tiny, almost undetectable spaghetti straps. Bulma had opted not to wear a bra, as she often did during the summer, so the overall effect was that much worse to a conservative woman like Chichi. She had left her hair down and straightened, save for the strands that were pushed back by her sunglasses, which she had shoved back on top of her head.
"It suits you," Chichi dismissed curtly, turning away once again. "Goku and Vejita are in the living room."
Both Goku and Vejita stared as she entered, though their expression were opposite. Goku looked shocked and a bit confused while Vejita looked suspicious and even a bit smug, which made Bulma smile. Chichi wasted no time in escaping and disappeared in the kitchen, where Bulma assumed the food was cooking.
"What?" Bulma asked innocently, looking down at her outfit. "You guys don't like it?"
Vejita smirked and turned back to the TV. "I wouldn't say that."
"It looks an awful lot like what you used to wear when we were traveling with Yamcha way back when!" Goku exclaimed. "Doesn't it? You used to call it your 'magnetic dress', whatever that means. Was it because a lot of guys talked to you when you wore it?"
At that moment, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Vejita, Bulma could see, was having an especially hard time containing himself. To relieve the tension, Bulma put on a happy face and chuckled.
"You never fail to crack me up, Son-Kun."
"Crack you up?" Goku asked, clearly puzzled. "Was what I said funny?"
Bulma ignored his question and moved to sit beside Vejita, who was rolling his eyes at his sparring partner in disgust. "Did we have to eat over here?" she asked quietly, so that Goku would not overhear. "You know how Chichi and I don't get along."
Vejita looked her up and down and cocked a brow. "Don't ask questions that you already know the answers to. She's cooking steak tonight, and Kami knows that your fool mother won't cook it for me anymore."
"She's trying to promote a healthy diet, especially with Trunks growing so fast."
"Consuming raw vegetables and tofu is hardly a healthy diet for a Saiyan," Vejita protested. "Eating over there is going to turn the kid into a fucking bunny rabbit!"
Bulma snorted. "She's doing her best to please you. She even cooked ribs for you last week! That's the next best thing to having a servant, Your Majesty."
Vejita scowled doubtfully and examined her outfit once again. He snapped one of the straps skeptically, causing Bulma to jump. "What's this? And why the hell did you decide to drive MY car?"
It was Bulma's turn to smirk. "Oh, its nothing. I'm just feeling a bit...spontaneous today."
"Bullshit," Vejita said automatically. "Something's up. You're only 'spontaneous' when I'm too exhausted to do something about it."
Bulma punched his shoulder playfully. "Asshole! Okay, I confess--I'm trying to piss Chichi off, and it seems to be working quite nicely." The sounds of pots and pans banging unnecessarily in the kitchen could be heard sporatically throughout the conversation. "What do you think? Want to play along?"
Vejita, who was just relieved that she was acting like her normal self for once, would have readily agreed to tie Chichi up and lock her in a closet if Bulma had suggested it (of course, he would have done that readily any day, but you get the gist). "I think that you should have come naked. You would probably be able to hear the bitch screaming all the way back in civilization."
"Probably," Bulma agreed. "So come on, help me! Nobody can get her going like you can..." To help make up his mind, Bulma scooted a little closer and smiled a sultry little smile. "Please?"
"Your ridiculous little tricks are unnecessary," Vejita snapped, trying to maintain the upper hand. "I'll agree, but only if YOU promise ME something."
Bulma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What?"
"I get to drive on the way home."
By the time they all sat down to eat dinner, which, as Vejita had said, turned out to be steak, both Bulma and Vejita had had ample time to contemplate the upcoming opportunity. They ended up seated across from each other, with Goku and Chichi at both ends of the table facing each other. Little Gohan was thankfully absent due to a sudden stomachache. Goku, as usual, carried the conversation along throughout the meal. That is, until Bulma seized control of it.
"So then I aimed a pretty good ki blast at Vejita, but that rascal was just too darned fast for me!" Goku was explaining, his face animated. Bulma was containing her laughter, because he also happened to be speaking with a full mouth. "He beat me this time, but believe me, it won't happen again."
"Keep on dreaming, Kakkarott," Vejita challenged coolly. "The day that you become stronger than me is the day that I die, which will not be anytime in the near future."
"Unless someone wisely decides to get rid of you, which may be sooner than you think, at this rate," Chichi snapped, gripping her silverware with white knuckles.
Bulma recognized her opportunity and smiled in a friendly, helpful manner. "You know, Chichi, extreme stress is a sure sign of a struggling sex life. If I were you, I would make some efforts to improve that aspect of you and Goku's lifestyle."
Vejita was almost forced to spit his food back out onto his plate, but caught himself. The comment went right over Goku's head, which was not surprising. Chichi, however, appeared to be thoroughly pissed off.
"Excuse me?" she rasped in disbelief.
"I said that stress is a sure sign of a struggling sex life," Bulma informed her seriously. Inwardly she was rejoicing at her flawless performance. "You and Goku are sexually active, aren't you?"
The table was silent for a moment before anybody spoke up. Vejita took the opportunity to meet Bulma's eyes and made a crude gesture that Bulma knew all too well. She held back giggles and pressed on determinedly.
"Well, if you aren't, you don't have to take the plunge immediately. There is always, well, oral sex. Hell, if you're too queasy to even do THAT, then I suppose its time for you to make use of those opposable thumbs that Kami blessed you with." Bulma was having a hard time not bursting out in hysterical laughter. Goku was staring at her incredulously, and Chichi's face was getting redder by the minute. "Hello? Is anybody in there?"
Chichi brought herself out of her state of shock and adopted a wide-eyed expression that was truly comical. In fact, Bulma thought she saw Vejita hide a grin behind his hand. "You..." she stammered. "You...you have to be the most premiscuous woman I've ever had the displeasure of encountering! How dare you ask me such questions at my own dinner table!"
Bulma shrugged innocently. "I don't understand your shock, Chichi. Sex is a perfectly normal, healthy thing. I mean, you guys had to have done it already, or Gohan wouldn't be here, and hey, lets face it, the resemblence gives you guys away."
"Kami intended...sex...to be a means of reproduction," Chichi argued tersely. "He certainly didn't mean for people like YOU to twist it and make it something that should be a cause for shame."
"Are you accusing me of being overly kinky?" Bulma teased, feigning shock. "I can't believe this! You can even ask Vejita, I'm not that kind of girl." Vejita almost lost his cool for a moment, but then thankfully recovered.
Expecting a conservative answer, Chichi asked, "Then what kind of girl are you, miss Bulma Briefs?"
Bulma appeared thoughtful for a moment, then grinned joyfully. "I would definitely not describe myself as kinky, but rather as a whip-and-chains kind of girl. That isn't so bad, is it?"
Chichi's eyes were looking like they were about to fall out of her head and into her plate, which was nearly untouched. "Dear Kami..."
"Come on, Chichi," Bulma encouraged. "I confessed to my preferences, so its only fair that you confess to some of yours. I really think that I can help you with this problem. You a fan of flavored condoms? Come on, you seem like a cherry-vanilla kind of woman to me, but I could always be wrong--"
"I think not!" Chichi exclaimed firmly, cutting Bulma off in midsentence. "I have no such 'preferences', and to be quite honest I have no desire to hear about yours! Now could you please SHUT UP and allow us to enjoy this meal?"
But Bulma was not to be defeated so easily. "Come on, Chichi, if I can't get anything out of you, then I'm just going to go ask Goku about it." At the look of pure venom Chichi shot her, she hid a smile and laid the subject to rest. "Or not."
Vejita smirked and cleared his throat. "So, uh, woman, pass the food over, why don't you?"
__________________________________________________________________________________________
(A/N): Wow, this was a long chapter compared to what I usually write! Lucky you guys! In regard to a few questions I got, Bulma is twenty-four currently, but her twenty-fifth birthday is coming up quickly, and thats why she told Goku that she felt 'old'. And also, I changed the original timeline a bit so that Goku and Chichi are older instead of four years younger or whatever it was. Couldn't tell you why, I just...did! Anyway, come on guys, give me some feedback! And on THIS fic, please! If you want to comment on 'Youth of the Nation' some more, as some of you have, then please review for THAT fic and not this one, please. And to those who wanted me to start a new fic and then do this one after, I'm really sorry, I couldn't put this one off any longer.. If you feel like talking (I always love to chat!) feel free to IM me! My screen name is Hawaiian Babay, just like e-mail address! So I'll leave you on a pleasant note (for once) and say 'ja ne'!
__________________________________________________________________________________________
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*
"Bulma, you have a call on line uhh...four I believe," Tammy, Bulma's secretary, shouted over the chaos in the main office of Capsule Corp. "They claimed that it was urgent!"
Bulma sighed, set aside the stack of contracts she had to sign, hung up on the politician she was arguing with, and switched her speaker phone over to the appropriate line. "This is Bulma Briefs, how may I help you?" She motioned for Tammy to shut her door and settled back into her leather chair.
"Wowee, Bulma, your business is like...all official and everything!"
"Goku!" Bulma exclaimed in irritation. "How many times have I reminded you NOT to call me here! If you want to get a hold of Vejita, you'll have to call the home number."
"Aw, I'm sorry...have I ever done that before?" Goku asked. Bulma could easily picture him scratching the back of his head in embarrasment. "I didn't want to talk to Vejita, though, I wanted to talk to YOU right now! Isn't that great?"
Bulma ran a hand through her hair and rolled her eyes, grateful that Goku had not visited the office this time. "Goku, you're going to have to spit it out because I'm very busy right now. You know who the President of the United States of America is, don't you? Well, he's on line one and he's also a very busy man. I'm sure that we would both appreciate your speed! My secretary said that it was important, so can we get to the 'important' part please?"
Goku laughed. "Oh yeah, that! Vejita and I are going to spar later this afternoon, so you're gonna hafta take care of Trunks when you get home. Vejita says that he isn't going to become your personal babysitter, whatever that means to you."
Bulma gritted her teeth and supressed the urge to scream. "Thank you, Goku. Give Vejita a nice blow to the jaw for me, alright? Give the bastard what's coming to him." Before Goku could protest, she hung up the phone and transferred over to the President's line. "Mr. President? I'm terribly sorry about that. Just business as usual..."d
Tammy, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, picked up on the tenseness in Bulma's voice. She frowned, flipped through her phone book, and dialed up Mrs. Briefs. Little Trunks had better hope that his mother would cool down this time.
Hours later, Bulma cut short her meeting with the head scientists of the company and hurried out of the compound. She looked down at her gold watch and swore under her breath--she was over an hour late--and picked up the pace a bit, ignoring the searing pain in her feet resulting from jogging in high heels. When she finally burst through the door of the mansion, Mrs. Briefs had taken her position on a nearby chair, arms crossed and eyes disapproving.
"I suppose that you have an excuse for being late this time around."
Bulma nodded and set down her briefcase. "I had this stubborn ass of a scientist who would not agree to--" She stopped at the saddened expression on her mother's aging face. "What is it, Mom?"
Mrs. Briefs sighed and looked down at her hands. "Its nothing, dear. I had just always hoped that...well, that you would grow out of your irresponsibility. I can't help but feel disappointed." Then she stood and began to leave. "I'll be home at around the usual time."
Bulma could only stare, shocked, after her mother as she left. Words could not describe what she was feeling at the moment. Shock. Anger. Denial. Sadness. There's something truly wrong when your own mother can say that you are a disappointment, Bulma thought to herself. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts and remain focused, she picked her briefcase up again and crossed the room into the kitchen, where Trunks was finishing off his mid-afternoon snack.
"Hi Mommy!" he greeted cheerfully. "Guess what? I drawed a horsey today. Gramma even putted it on the fridge! Wanna see?" His bright young eyes were dancing with pride.
Bulma looked up briefly, only catching half of what her son was saying. "Oh! That's nice, honey. When did your father leave?"
Trunks' eyes darkened and became full of disappointment. "I dunno. Prolly 'round lunchtime." With another downcast look towards his preoccupied mother and then to his 'masterpiece' on the refridgerator, he picked up his plate, put it in the sink, and walked slowly out of the room and up the stairs.
"Where are you going, Trunks?" Bulma shouted after him, hands on her hips.
"My room!"
"Your ROOM?!" Bulma demanded. "Don't you think that you play enough video games already? Get your ass back down here, please!" She didn't wait to see if he obeyed, she merely went back to shuffling through her papers, searching for a memo.
Trunks appeared back in the doorway. "Then what can I do, Mommy? You just told me to go 'way..."
Bulma waved a hand in his direction. "Shut up for a minute, can't you see that I'm busy?" She found the memo and settled into a chair with it. Upon reading its contents, her fingers went to the ring in her nose, as they often did when she was becoming stressed. "Shit! I thought I told those idiots to cancel that account..."
"What account?" Trunks asked eagerly, taking the chair beside his mother with renewed happiness.
"Dammit, Trunks!" Bulma screeched. Suddenly and without warning, she seized his arm and practically pushed him out of his chair to the floor. "I told you before to keep your mouth shut!" With a roll of her eyes, she went back to studying the memo, her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You're mean!" Trunks screamed defiantly. "You're meaner even than Daddy!"
Bulma slammed her papers back onto the counter and got up out of her chair just in time to catch Trunks, who had begun to flee, by the back of his shirt. "You little brat!" she scolded. "I am NOT meaner than your father!"
"Uh-huh!" Trunks argued, sticking his little pink tongue out at Bulma, who was getting red in the face.
"Uh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Uh-uh...what the fuck am I doing?" Bulma recomposed herself and smacked Trunks smartly across the face. She left a bright pink handprint behind. "Now you'd better get out of my sight before I get REALLY mad!"
After shooting her one last bold look through his tears, Trunks turned and ran out of the room and out of sight. Bulma sighed and climbed back onto her chair. All of a sudden, she felt disgusted with herself. Here she was, technically single and quickly approaching age twenty-five, and she couldn't even hold her emotions in check around her own child. The memos and documents before her suddenly lost their importance. Bulma moved them aside, put her head in her hands, and took a deep breath.
"Calm down, Bulma!" she reminded herself. "You're beginning to act a little like Vejita, and that's scary."
It was true. Bulma wondered if, at this alarming rate, she would be more violent than Vejita himself by the time Trunks was half-way through with his childhood. She shuddered at the thought and, in the heat of the moment, pulled a cigarette out from her briefcase, lit it, and took a long drag. She had picked up the bad habit ever since her father had died and her cravings for certain...substances began coming back in full force. Cigarettes didn't chase them away, but they made them a hell of a lot easier to deal with. She had had to do a lot of growing up during that time, so she figured that she owed it to herself to give in a little bit. Bulma finished her cigarette and found herself lighting up another one almost immediately after without realizing it. Okay, she had given in a lot, but what was a girl to do?
Glancing down at her watch, Bulma realized that if what Trunks had said was true, than Vejita had been gone for hours now. Shaking her head in frustration, the girl contemplated calling Goku's house to order him to come back, but decided against it. She and her 'mate' were alike in many ways, and she knew instinctively that that would only piss them both off more, and that was something that she would definitely be wiser to avoid. And then, without warning, the phone rang. Bulma nearly fell out of her seat in surprise.
"Hello?"
"Hello yourself." Chichi's voice was calm, cool, and collected, as usual when she was speaking to Bulma these days. "Since your hus-- I mean, Vejita, is too lazy to pick his ass up and come to the phone, it was left to me to invite you over for dinner."
"For dinner?" Bulma asked incredulously. "But I'm watching Trunks right now, and--"
Chichi cut her off abruptly. "Oh damn, then I guess that you can't come."
Bulma's blood boiled at the prospect of Chichi getting off that easily. "Well, actually, my mother will be returning shortly, so its entirely possible. I suppose I'll be seeing you soon."
"That's fine," Chichi snapped. "Good-bye for now."
Bulma made a face at the phone and hung up. "Good-bye my ass! Evil bitch..." All thoughts of anything besides making Chichi's dinner as miserable as possible vanished from her mind, and the determined girl stampeded to her bedroom in search of something to wear.
The devious girl left her house forty-five minutes later, after turning the sulking Trunks over to her mother, who was also in a bad mood. Bulma ignored her sarcasm and instead concentrated on elaborating her plans. She hadn't been able to come up with anything concrete, but it was the little things that really mattered, wasn't it? She had heard that somewhere... Anyway, she stepped out into the summer evening expecting to take her SUV, but upon reaching it, she got a better idea.
Bulma turned on her heel and entered the enormous garage, where every kind of foreign and custom-designed car and motorbike imaginable could be found. It didn't take her long to find the one she wanted--the fire-engine red Ferrari that her father had purchased as a present for Vejita--but finding the keys was another matter. It took her another fifteen minutes just to determine which set belonged to the beautiful machine.
"Shit, shit shit..." Bulma growled as she slid into the driver's seat and revved the purring engine. It took her a few moments to get her foot steady (driving in high-heels was something that she tried never to do, especially in a powerful car such as this one), but instead of hesitating any further, she backed hastily out of the garage and burned rubber almost all the way to Chichi and Goku's house.
When she finally arrived there, the sun was just beginning to set, and all was quiet around the remote location. Bulma wrinkled her nose in disgust and pulled down her sunglasses as she got out of her car. If anyone important saw her in such a dinky little rustic place, she would never be able to live it down! She locked the car and blew it a mischevious kiss before heading up to the front porch of the small home. Not surprisingly, Chichi took her sweet time answering the door.
"Oh, so you decided to show up," she acknowledged coolly. "How...nice."
"Bitch," Bulma muttered under her breath as she followed Chichi into the house. Before stepping into the main room, Bulma slid her sweater off of her shoulders and grinned. "So, Chichi, how do you like my dress?"
Chichi looked over her shoulder, prepared with a biting remark, but it died before it could cross her lips. Bulma was wearing an almost impossibly tiny, nearly transparent floral patterned sundress. It reached to about mid-thigh and had tiny, almost undetectable spaghetti straps. Bulma had opted not to wear a bra, as she often did during the summer, so the overall effect was that much worse to a conservative woman like Chichi. She had left her hair down and straightened, save for the strands that were pushed back by her sunglasses, which she had shoved back on top of her head.
"It suits you," Chichi dismissed curtly, turning away once again. "Goku and Vejita are in the living room."
Both Goku and Vejita stared as she entered, though their expression were opposite. Goku looked shocked and a bit confused while Vejita looked suspicious and even a bit smug, which made Bulma smile. Chichi wasted no time in escaping and disappeared in the kitchen, where Bulma assumed the food was cooking.
"What?" Bulma asked innocently, looking down at her outfit. "You guys don't like it?"
Vejita smirked and turned back to the TV. "I wouldn't say that."
"It looks an awful lot like what you used to wear when we were traveling with Yamcha way back when!" Goku exclaimed. "Doesn't it? You used to call it your 'magnetic dress', whatever that means. Was it because a lot of guys talked to you when you wore it?"
At that moment, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Vejita, Bulma could see, was having an especially hard time containing himself. To relieve the tension, Bulma put on a happy face and chuckled.
"You never fail to crack me up, Son-Kun."
"Crack you up?" Goku asked, clearly puzzled. "Was what I said funny?"
Bulma ignored his question and moved to sit beside Vejita, who was rolling his eyes at his sparring partner in disgust. "Did we have to eat over here?" she asked quietly, so that Goku would not overhear. "You know how Chichi and I don't get along."
Vejita looked her up and down and cocked a brow. "Don't ask questions that you already know the answers to. She's cooking steak tonight, and Kami knows that your fool mother won't cook it for me anymore."
"She's trying to promote a healthy diet, especially with Trunks growing so fast."
"Consuming raw vegetables and tofu is hardly a healthy diet for a Saiyan," Vejita protested. "Eating over there is going to turn the kid into a fucking bunny rabbit!"
Bulma snorted. "She's doing her best to please you. She even cooked ribs for you last week! That's the next best thing to having a servant, Your Majesty."
Vejita scowled doubtfully and examined her outfit once again. He snapped one of the straps skeptically, causing Bulma to jump. "What's this? And why the hell did you decide to drive MY car?"
It was Bulma's turn to smirk. "Oh, its nothing. I'm just feeling a bit...spontaneous today."
"Bullshit," Vejita said automatically. "Something's up. You're only 'spontaneous' when I'm too exhausted to do something about it."
Bulma punched his shoulder playfully. "Asshole! Okay, I confess--I'm trying to piss Chichi off, and it seems to be working quite nicely." The sounds of pots and pans banging unnecessarily in the kitchen could be heard sporatically throughout the conversation. "What do you think? Want to play along?"
Vejita, who was just relieved that she was acting like her normal self for once, would have readily agreed to tie Chichi up and lock her in a closet if Bulma had suggested it (of course, he would have done that readily any day, but you get the gist). "I think that you should have come naked. You would probably be able to hear the bitch screaming all the way back in civilization."
"Probably," Bulma agreed. "So come on, help me! Nobody can get her going like you can..." To help make up his mind, Bulma scooted a little closer and smiled a sultry little smile. "Please?"
"Your ridiculous little tricks are unnecessary," Vejita snapped, trying to maintain the upper hand. "I'll agree, but only if YOU promise ME something."
Bulma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What?"
"I get to drive on the way home."
By the time they all sat down to eat dinner, which, as Vejita had said, turned out to be steak, both Bulma and Vejita had had ample time to contemplate the upcoming opportunity. They ended up seated across from each other, with Goku and Chichi at both ends of the table facing each other. Little Gohan was thankfully absent due to a sudden stomachache. Goku, as usual, carried the conversation along throughout the meal. That is, until Bulma seized control of it.
"So then I aimed a pretty good ki blast at Vejita, but that rascal was just too darned fast for me!" Goku was explaining, his face animated. Bulma was containing her laughter, because he also happened to be speaking with a full mouth. "He beat me this time, but believe me, it won't happen again."
"Keep on dreaming, Kakkarott," Vejita challenged coolly. "The day that you become stronger than me is the day that I die, which will not be anytime in the near future."
"Unless someone wisely decides to get rid of you, which may be sooner than you think, at this rate," Chichi snapped, gripping her silverware with white knuckles.
Bulma recognized her opportunity and smiled in a friendly, helpful manner. "You know, Chichi, extreme stress is a sure sign of a struggling sex life. If I were you, I would make some efforts to improve that aspect of you and Goku's lifestyle."
Vejita was almost forced to spit his food back out onto his plate, but caught himself. The comment went right over Goku's head, which was not surprising. Chichi, however, appeared to be thoroughly pissed off.
"Excuse me?" she rasped in disbelief.
"I said that stress is a sure sign of a struggling sex life," Bulma informed her seriously. Inwardly she was rejoicing at her flawless performance. "You and Goku are sexually active, aren't you?"
The table was silent for a moment before anybody spoke up. Vejita took the opportunity to meet Bulma's eyes and made a crude gesture that Bulma knew all too well. She held back giggles and pressed on determinedly.
"Well, if you aren't, you don't have to take the plunge immediately. There is always, well, oral sex. Hell, if you're too queasy to even do THAT, then I suppose its time for you to make use of those opposable thumbs that Kami blessed you with." Bulma was having a hard time not bursting out in hysterical laughter. Goku was staring at her incredulously, and Chichi's face was getting redder by the minute. "Hello? Is anybody in there?"
Chichi brought herself out of her state of shock and adopted a wide-eyed expression that was truly comical. In fact, Bulma thought she saw Vejita hide a grin behind his hand. "You..." she stammered. "You...you have to be the most premiscuous woman I've ever had the displeasure of encountering! How dare you ask me such questions at my own dinner table!"
Bulma shrugged innocently. "I don't understand your shock, Chichi. Sex is a perfectly normal, healthy thing. I mean, you guys had to have done it already, or Gohan wouldn't be here, and hey, lets face it, the resemblence gives you guys away."
"Kami intended...sex...to be a means of reproduction," Chichi argued tersely. "He certainly didn't mean for people like YOU to twist it and make it something that should be a cause for shame."
"Are you accusing me of being overly kinky?" Bulma teased, feigning shock. "I can't believe this! You can even ask Vejita, I'm not that kind of girl." Vejita almost lost his cool for a moment, but then thankfully recovered.
Expecting a conservative answer, Chichi asked, "Then what kind of girl are you, miss Bulma Briefs?"
Bulma appeared thoughtful for a moment, then grinned joyfully. "I would definitely not describe myself as kinky, but rather as a whip-and-chains kind of girl. That isn't so bad, is it?"
Chichi's eyes were looking like they were about to fall out of her head and into her plate, which was nearly untouched. "Dear Kami..."
"Come on, Chichi," Bulma encouraged. "I confessed to my preferences, so its only fair that you confess to some of yours. I really think that I can help you with this problem. You a fan of flavored condoms? Come on, you seem like a cherry-vanilla kind of woman to me, but I could always be wrong--"
"I think not!" Chichi exclaimed firmly, cutting Bulma off in midsentence. "I have no such 'preferences', and to be quite honest I have no desire to hear about yours! Now could you please SHUT UP and allow us to enjoy this meal?"
But Bulma was not to be defeated so easily. "Come on, Chichi, if I can't get anything out of you, then I'm just going to go ask Goku about it." At the look of pure venom Chichi shot her, she hid a smile and laid the subject to rest. "Or not."
Vejita smirked and cleared his throat. "So, uh, woman, pass the food over, why don't you?"
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(A/N): Wow, this was a long chapter compared to what I usually write! Lucky you guys! In regard to a few questions I got, Bulma is twenty-four currently, but her twenty-fifth birthday is coming up quickly, and thats why she told Goku that she felt 'old'. And also, I changed the original timeline a bit so that Goku and Chichi are older instead of four years younger or whatever it was. Couldn't tell you why, I just...did! Anyway, come on guys, give me some feedback! And on THIS fic, please! If you want to comment on 'Youth of the Nation' some more, as some of you have, then please review for THAT fic and not this one, please. And to those who wanted me to start a new fic and then do this one after, I'm really sorry, I couldn't put this one off any longer.. If you feel like talking (I always love to chat!) feel free to IM me! My screen name is Hawaiian Babay, just like e-mail address! So I'll leave you on a pleasant note (for once) and say 'ja ne'!
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