Vegeta: *rolling eyes* Well, if it isn't Elfbreath come back for another
round! Elflord: *fire rolls up in eyes* ELFLORD! My name is ELFLORD! Bulma:
*sneering* See? I told ya she was Elflord! Vegeta: You did not! Bulma: I
did so! Vegeta: You did not! Bulma: I did so! Vegeta: You did- Elflord:
*hair flying up and eyes turning silver in elvish rage* ENOUGH! Jeez
Mareez, are you ever gonna give the authoress a break? Bulma: *glaring* No!
Vegeta: That's right! Now . . . where were we? Oh yes . . . you did not!
Bulma: I did so! Elflord *pulling hair* AAAARGH!
I can't take this kind of abuse! Good thing I don't own DBZ, or I'd actually have to pay 'em for this. Gimme a break!
Rainin'
Chapter Two
Bulma's eyes fluttered blearily. Surprised, she looked around. She was still snuggled into Vegeta, who was still snoozing easily. His breathing was soft and warm, like cotton. If she had been able to stay there forever she would have.
The clock said 4:27. Too early to be awake. Might be able to go back to sleep.
Suddenly, Vegeta sighed and opened one eye. A slightly confused look came over his face as he looked in Bulma's.
"Where am I?" he asked sleepily.
"My room," she answered, yawning.
A touch of anxiety crept to his expression now.
"We didn't . . . y'know . . . right?"
She shook her head sleepily. "No."
"Awww." a loud yawn emitted from his throat, "I guess that's good."
"You sure?" she teased.
"Hey," he said, snaking an arm around her waist, "you're the one with a strange boy in your bed."
"Not so strange," she teased , wrapping her arm around his shoulder.
"Eh . . . I don't feel like it just now."
"I didn't ask you for it!" She couldn't help but let out a small giggle. "You're the one who fell asleep here."
"Right, right, right. And there's a particular reason you didn't wake me up?"
"Why you bas-" her sentence suddenly stopped in the middle. She heard something . . . a car pulling up to the curb.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Mom . . ." she squeaked. "Dad . . ."
"Gad, Woman!" he shrieked. "I thought you said they weren't coming home for another day!"
"I thought they were! Oh my goodness . . . they're gonna kill me!"
"Kill you?!? They'll kill me!!!" he shrieked again. "That mother of yours . . . what'll we do?!?"
Car door opening . . .
"Stop yammering and get moving!" Bulma kicked him out of bed. "Go on, get back to your room and just pretend you're asleep!"
"Oh yeah? What about this?" he asked, pointing at the half eaten pizza.
"Take it!"
"You take it!"
Sound of trunk opening . . .
"YOU take it!!!" she couldn't help but yell. "You're a guy! Guys are slobby! Guys eat in their room!"
"Not a prince, mind you."
"Just shut up and TAKE IT! And hurry it up, they're almost here!"
Trunk closing . . .
"Alright, alright, alright, alright! I'm going, already!" he grabbed the pizza box out of her hands. "You don't have to yell, Woman!"
"Hurry!" she prompted him, ignoring an incredible urge to lash out at him. It was that last 'woman.' "Hurry up! Get in bed!"
Walking up the walkway. . .
At last, she heard his door slam shut. Incredible. Bulma faked an asleep and was at last quiet. She could only hope he was doing the same.
Front door opening. . .
"Shh . . . quiet, dear," she heard Bunny's voice coming up the stairs, very shushed. "They're asleep."
"Darling, I still don't understand why we couldn't stay just one more day. It's so dangerous to drive at this hour."
Long sigh.
"I already told you . . . I heard about Yamcha, and I just don't think it's right to leave her alone."
"But, darling, she isn't alone."
"If you think for one minute that that punk would spend any time comforting her, I'm taking you straight to the doctor, because you're going senile."
'Never say never, momma,' she thought to herself, the covers hiding her face so they wouldn't notice the smile.
Bulma waited and listened as she heard her parents go up to their room and start to unpack. Her mother started making breakfast, probably in an attempt to comfort her. Bulma felt a little sorry for her. Even though it was with the best intentions, she was wasting her time. Bulma was already comforted plenty. But she wouldn't tell her that. Some things were better off not mentioned.
She slept in 'til about seven or so, and then woke up like normal, still in her pajamas, yawning and wiping sleep from her eyes like nothing had happened.
"Hello, honey," her mom piped cheerfully. "Feel in the mood for some French toast, or would you rather some omelet? Oh, and I've got some coffee here. C'mon in and have some," she motioned toward the table, where her father was already seated, a large plate of sugar-laced French toast in front of him, smiling merrily at her.
"Good morning, dearest," he said carefully. "How did you sleep?"
"Oh, fine, just fine, I mean, as well as can be expected."
Her mother's smile faded away to a look of empathy.
"Bulma, baby," she patted her shoulder. "I know how much he meant to you. It's never easy to find out that someone you love has lied to you. And, to learn it like this . . . well, if that boy was here right now . . . well, I . . . I'm glad he's not here, let me tell you that. But, honey, understand, you don't need somebody who'd treat you like that, you-"
"I know, momma," she interrupted. "Listen . . . I had a really good think last night . . . and you know what? I shouldn't have let it go on the first time. You're right, momma. I'm gonna move on. Because I do deserve better, don't you think?"
"Oh, Bulma, that's wonderful!!!" she brought over a large plate of her famous hash-browned omelet. "And here I was worried you'd be all in pieces over it, but I should've known you'd bounce back. Congratulations, sweetie! I'm so pr-"
"Can't a man get any peace around here?" a voice came from up the stairs. "I swear, they can hear you at Kakarot's."
Her parents turned to look up. Bulma couldn't help but smile a little bit. Some things never change.
Immediately, a rather heated expression came over her mother's face, but she did her best to hide it, muttering a low, very tepid, very halfhearted "Good Morning" to the Saiyajin Prince.
Like Bulma, Vegeta was still dressed in pajamas, which for him was boxers and an undershirt, but he'd thrown his long, rich green bathrobe over it, and with his hair standing shockingly high from bed-head, Bulma thought he'd never looked more like royalty. Even from the way he stood in the middle of the doorway, with arms characteristically crossed across his chest and his signature scowl, he still displayed the characteristics of a disagreeable, ungrateful ingrate. With a further little frown he plopped down in the chair next to Bulma, still glowering. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a little wink. She gave him a little smile in return.
Without a word, her mother slammed a plate of French toast down in front of him and went back to her place, lips pursed. For the rest of the breakfast, conversation was very sparse, mostly due to the fact that Bunny and Vegeta were having a glaring contest across the table.
It was no use. Some things never change. Bulma gave it up and dug into her omelet.
I can't take this kind of abuse! Good thing I don't own DBZ, or I'd actually have to pay 'em for this. Gimme a break!
Rainin'
Chapter Two
Bulma's eyes fluttered blearily. Surprised, she looked around. She was still snuggled into Vegeta, who was still snoozing easily. His breathing was soft and warm, like cotton. If she had been able to stay there forever she would have.
The clock said 4:27. Too early to be awake. Might be able to go back to sleep.
Suddenly, Vegeta sighed and opened one eye. A slightly confused look came over his face as he looked in Bulma's.
"Where am I?" he asked sleepily.
"My room," she answered, yawning.
A touch of anxiety crept to his expression now.
"We didn't . . . y'know . . . right?"
She shook her head sleepily. "No."
"Awww." a loud yawn emitted from his throat, "I guess that's good."
"You sure?" she teased.
"Hey," he said, snaking an arm around her waist, "you're the one with a strange boy in your bed."
"Not so strange," she teased , wrapping her arm around his shoulder.
"Eh . . . I don't feel like it just now."
"I didn't ask you for it!" She couldn't help but let out a small giggle. "You're the one who fell asleep here."
"Right, right, right. And there's a particular reason you didn't wake me up?"
"Why you bas-" her sentence suddenly stopped in the middle. She heard something . . . a car pulling up to the curb.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Mom . . ." she squeaked. "Dad . . ."
"Gad, Woman!" he shrieked. "I thought you said they weren't coming home for another day!"
"I thought they were! Oh my goodness . . . they're gonna kill me!"
"Kill you?!? They'll kill me!!!" he shrieked again. "That mother of yours . . . what'll we do?!?"
Car door opening . . .
"Stop yammering and get moving!" Bulma kicked him out of bed. "Go on, get back to your room and just pretend you're asleep!"
"Oh yeah? What about this?" he asked, pointing at the half eaten pizza.
"Take it!"
"You take it!"
Sound of trunk opening . . .
"YOU take it!!!" she couldn't help but yell. "You're a guy! Guys are slobby! Guys eat in their room!"
"Not a prince, mind you."
"Just shut up and TAKE IT! And hurry it up, they're almost here!"
Trunk closing . . .
"Alright, alright, alright, alright! I'm going, already!" he grabbed the pizza box out of her hands. "You don't have to yell, Woman!"
"Hurry!" she prompted him, ignoring an incredible urge to lash out at him. It was that last 'woman.' "Hurry up! Get in bed!"
Walking up the walkway. . .
At last, she heard his door slam shut. Incredible. Bulma faked an asleep and was at last quiet. She could only hope he was doing the same.
Front door opening. . .
"Shh . . . quiet, dear," she heard Bunny's voice coming up the stairs, very shushed. "They're asleep."
"Darling, I still don't understand why we couldn't stay just one more day. It's so dangerous to drive at this hour."
Long sigh.
"I already told you . . . I heard about Yamcha, and I just don't think it's right to leave her alone."
"But, darling, she isn't alone."
"If you think for one minute that that punk would spend any time comforting her, I'm taking you straight to the doctor, because you're going senile."
'Never say never, momma,' she thought to herself, the covers hiding her face so they wouldn't notice the smile.
Bulma waited and listened as she heard her parents go up to their room and start to unpack. Her mother started making breakfast, probably in an attempt to comfort her. Bulma felt a little sorry for her. Even though it was with the best intentions, she was wasting her time. Bulma was already comforted plenty. But she wouldn't tell her that. Some things were better off not mentioned.
She slept in 'til about seven or so, and then woke up like normal, still in her pajamas, yawning and wiping sleep from her eyes like nothing had happened.
"Hello, honey," her mom piped cheerfully. "Feel in the mood for some French toast, or would you rather some omelet? Oh, and I've got some coffee here. C'mon in and have some," she motioned toward the table, where her father was already seated, a large plate of sugar-laced French toast in front of him, smiling merrily at her.
"Good morning, dearest," he said carefully. "How did you sleep?"
"Oh, fine, just fine, I mean, as well as can be expected."
Her mother's smile faded away to a look of empathy.
"Bulma, baby," she patted her shoulder. "I know how much he meant to you. It's never easy to find out that someone you love has lied to you. And, to learn it like this . . . well, if that boy was here right now . . . well, I . . . I'm glad he's not here, let me tell you that. But, honey, understand, you don't need somebody who'd treat you like that, you-"
"I know, momma," she interrupted. "Listen . . . I had a really good think last night . . . and you know what? I shouldn't have let it go on the first time. You're right, momma. I'm gonna move on. Because I do deserve better, don't you think?"
"Oh, Bulma, that's wonderful!!!" she brought over a large plate of her famous hash-browned omelet. "And here I was worried you'd be all in pieces over it, but I should've known you'd bounce back. Congratulations, sweetie! I'm so pr-"
"Can't a man get any peace around here?" a voice came from up the stairs. "I swear, they can hear you at Kakarot's."
Her parents turned to look up. Bulma couldn't help but smile a little bit. Some things never change.
Immediately, a rather heated expression came over her mother's face, but she did her best to hide it, muttering a low, very tepid, very halfhearted "Good Morning" to the Saiyajin Prince.
Like Bulma, Vegeta was still dressed in pajamas, which for him was boxers and an undershirt, but he'd thrown his long, rich green bathrobe over it, and with his hair standing shockingly high from bed-head, Bulma thought he'd never looked more like royalty. Even from the way he stood in the middle of the doorway, with arms characteristically crossed across his chest and his signature scowl, he still displayed the characteristics of a disagreeable, ungrateful ingrate. With a further little frown he plopped down in the chair next to Bulma, still glowering. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a little wink. She gave him a little smile in return.
Without a word, her mother slammed a plate of French toast down in front of him and went back to her place, lips pursed. For the rest of the breakfast, conversation was very sparse, mostly due to the fact that Bunny and Vegeta were having a glaring contest across the table.
It was no use. Some things never change. Bulma gave it up and dug into her omelet.