Last time:
"I-I-I said over a little," she stuttered, raising her eyebrows in innocence. Kami, how could she have let that slip? And right when Rikyu was just warming up to her. He'd been reluctant to go any further than kissing with her, and though she pushed, he never caved; morals or something, she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I really am tired. I thought I had enough energy, but I'm bushed." She kissed his cheek quickly, then pulled for him to follow her upstairs. "Come on, I want to sleep in your arms tonight."
He smiled gingerly at her, over looking what she'd said, and he'd heard her. It would take longer than he thought for her to get completely over him. He understood, it was the same way with him and his first love.
****************************************
His hands slid slowly up her back as he laid her on the silken sheets of the bed. His ministrations were almost painfully slow; for he wanted her to feel every bit of pleasure he was giving her. This was her night, and after all she'd been through, she deserved every minute of it.
She arched her back and he kissed his way down her chest and stomach, and, when he got to the rim of her lacey panties, smirked and ripped them off. She let out a tiny gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as his tongue worked its miracle on her. She was about to scream his name when he suddenly stopped and looked up at her with his huge onyx eyes.
"Woman," he whispered, resting his chin on her trembling knee. She leaned her head up and propped herself on her elbows to better look at him.
"Hmm?" she barely managed, her messy aqua marine hair sticking to her forehead.
"Are you happy? With me I mean." She could tell that he'd rehearsed it by himself for sometime before deciding to ask her, and it took all his pride to do so.
"Oh 'Geta," she sighed with an exasperated little laugh. "Of course I am. You should know that."
He simply frowned back at her, but couldn't hold it for long and it eventually turned into a broad smirk.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she admitted shamelessly with her sweet smile.
"Yeah, you're not so bad yourself," he countered with as much attitude as he could muster. But she could tell that what he meant was, "Me too."
"Why thank you," she laughed, tilting her head a little to the side; she couldn't have looked more cute.
"Woman I-" But he stopped short, the words completely falling from his mouth. "Woman, you mean m-" And again his words fell, dropped like lead to the floor. But he was persistent, and tried again. "I've never fe-" He looked down at his hands; he just couldn't get out what he was dying to say to her. "I-" It was Bulma who stopped him this time.
"I'm not ready if you're not ready," she whispered reassuringly, leaning up and hugging him to her. "Come on, I really need a nice warm bubble bath." And she hopped off the bed and pulled a long tee shirt over her head. "And I need some company too."
Bulma shot up in bed, nearly waking Rikyu in the process. He only groaned and turned over, but didn't wake. She sighed with relief and leaned back on the headboard, trying to hold onto the dream just a little longer. It was a memory of her and Vegeta just before she started to show, a recurring dream that she'd been having ever since Trunks was born. She couldn't quite figure out why the hell she kept having this dream and so often, about twice a week, but she really didn't mind them; they were comforting, in a strange way. But then, looking down at the peaceful slumbering Rikyu, she suddenly felt guilty, as if thinking of Vegeta or liking that dream was like cheating on him. She knew she was foolish to think that, but in a way it was sort of betrayal, because while you're with someone you're supposed to remain faithful in body and mind, and she was tittering on the breaking point of the latter.
She sunk back down into the blankets and tried to fall back asleep, but, after about an hour of trying, found it would be impossible at that time. She'd get up and do something for an hour or so and then try again. She slipped on her cotton robe and matching slippers, and quieting tiptoed out of the room so not to wake Rikyu or Trunks in the next room. When she finally made it to her destination, the lab, she realized that it wouldn't be such a good idea for her to work on any projects because she'd most likely get too involved and loose track of time, plus most of the equipment was run by big generators that made a lot of noise when everything else was quiet.
"Kami damn it," she groaned as she entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table. Trunks' highchair was still out and there was a new note on the refrigerator with different handwriting. She grabbed the chair, folded it up, and put it back where it belonged, then went over to the fridge and read the note; it was from Kimiko:
Hey sis,
I guess you're asleep now cause your car's here and your door's shut. Anyway, Mrs. Ouji called while you were gone and wants you to call her tomorrow when you get a chance.
Kimi
P.S. Shirosama forgot to tell you in his note before, he says he's sorry.
Bulma crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash, making a mental note to herself to call Mrs. Ouji tomorrow. She smiled, despite the relation to Vegeta; they'd been having play dates together for a while now, that was without a doubt what she'd called about. Little Tsukiyama and Trunks got along so well, and she was so damn adorable with her black hair and violet eyes. The last place they had been to was a mother-daughter-baby beauty pageant; they had to pretend to be mother and daughter for that, which Bulma had no problem doing, except for when Mrs. Ouji made a comment about her marrying Vegeta and being her daughter anyway. She'd apologized profusely after that, knowing that it was uncomfortable for her to have her ex-boyfriend mentioned. She hadn't known exactly why they broke up, only that it was Vegeta's fault in some way.
*Maybe I could call her now* she wondered, glancing at the clock. But it was far too late, way passed midnight. She sighed deeply, pacing around the kitchen, trying to figure out something to do to pass some time. She was so tired, but that dream always kept her up late; damn her lingering feelings! She hated it, how she still felt something for Vegeta even after what he'd done to her, and she'd been trying her damnedest to stop thinking about him, to get over him. It was harder than she thought it would be. She'd thought that after him doing something that horrible to her that it would be a cinch to just get over him without a second thought, but her heart was lagging behind her brain and wasn't going to catch up anytime soon.
Eventually she wandered into the living room, where Ryu, who was seven as of last week, was curled in a little ball on the biggest couch. The television was on, some infomercial or something, and the volume was turned to almost zero. Lately he'd gotten into the bad habit of staying up late on school nights to watch TV and then fall asleep. Bulma's mother or father or one of the older siblings were usually up late enough to take care of him, so he must have snuck out of his room. That was another one of his little bad habits that he'd recently developed, being a sneak; just a month ago he'd snuck out of the house at midnight to play at the park down the road because Mrs. Briefs told him he couldn't go for a punishment. They'd have to keep a good eye on him, and make sure he didn't influence little three-year-old Mai who looked up to him.
Bulma simply starred at her littlest brother for a long time before attempting to pick him up, he was an extremely light sleeper. She was trying to imagine what Trunks would look like when he was that old, and older, teenager and adult. Would he turn out more like her or, unfortunately, more like his father? Vegeta, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was a huge influence on her son's life and that would always be a factor. What if he turned into his high school's male whore like his father was for all those years? What if he made bets to steal girls' virginity by the end of the week? Or what if he becomes a teen parent like them and doesn't end up with the mother? What if he's bitter and hateful and doesn't focus on life's miracles? She sighed deeply, covering her mouth so not to wake Ryu; she was hardly a good candidate for the last question, just like Vegeta. She was bitter about their failed relationship and that he'd cheated on her, she was hateful towards him for those reasons as well and at Arisa, and she certainly didn't focus on the good all the time, she was far too worried about Trunks' future for that. And in upset her that she couldn't simply look at her son and see him for the miracle that he was, well she could do that, but she always had the nagging questions locked in the back of her head, eating away at her until one day she would finally get the answers.
Finally, after gazing at her brother for a while, she carefully picked him up and carried him to his room on the third floor; the attic had to be turned into a bedroom when Ryu was born, and then two after Mai. Surprisingly, he didn't stir in the least; he'd probably been up later than she thought and was dead tired. She quietly walked out of his room, gently pulling the door shut; it was harder than one might think to keep him from waking. After she was successfully in the hall, she decided to go check up on Mai. She was a much heavier sleeper, Bulma didn't even have to tiptoe into her room or keep from breathing too hard. She lay there, her limbs spread out in all directions, her pillow covered in drool; Bulma was a drooler too. The first thing she noticed, after her uncomfortable looking position, was her hair, it was shorter than the last time she'd seen her, the night before. She has the same color hair as Trunks, though slightly darker, and it had been down to the middle of her back. Now it was shorter in length, and a good look for her, Bulma thought, for she had the right hair type for that, thin and straight. And she was such an adorable little girl, she would definitely be a knock out by the time she was a teenager. Hopefully she'd have more sense than Bulma and not get pregnant at 18. But she was extremely intelligent for her age, like Bulma had been, and she knew she could learn from her mistakes and live her life before she had to care for another. She didn't even like playing "mommy" with toy dolls like Bulma had when she was that age, sure she'd been into technology at the same time, being fascinated and all, but she still had time to be a "regular" little girl. Mai wasn't like that though, in the least; she'd play outside with Ryu and get all dirty and mud covered when she wasn't in the lab with Dr. Briefs absorbing everything he said. In fact, she despised dolls and the whole idea of them, "Why would anyone want to pretend a plastic person in alive?" she'd asked one time when Bulma had been telling her about her old doll collection, and then she'd run off with Ryu and had a mud ball fight. She was so dirty that her parents had had to hose her down in the back yard, but then she'd just jumped in a pile of dirt while she was still wet and got dirty all over again. Bulma never understood that about her, but she knew that not all the girls in the family would end up with some of her mother's traits, there had to be at least one that was different, and it was Mai.
"Bulma?" The sound of her name brought her back to reality, Mai had woken up.
"Hmm?" she asked, not being able to think of anything else to say.
"What are you doing?" She rubbed her tired eyes with her little balled fists and sat up, barely able to keep from flopping back on the pillow. "What time is it?"
"It's late, sorry. I had to put Ryu to bed and then I came to check on you before I went back to bed. When did you cut your hair?"
"Jun'ko did it today."
"How come? Didn't you like your long hair?"
"I guess," she shrugged, beginning to wake up a little. "It was beginning to bother me though, it always got in my way. Besides, Ryu always pulls it when we're playing, and I don't want him having the advantage." Bulma smiled sweetly at her, she sounded more like a scholar than a three- year-old child; definitely her father's daughter. "I think it looks better," she added, laying back down and pulling the covers up.
"I like it. It suits you." She leaned over and opened her arms, which Mai responded to by wrapping her arms around her neck. "I'll leave you alone now. Good night." She kissed her on the cheek and left.
She headed back towards her room, but when her hand touched the doorknob, she realized that she wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. That memory was too powerful for her. So, instead of getting angry about not being able to sleep, she decided to take a little drive. That might get her mind off some things, Vegeta mainly, but she didn't want to admit that. She didn't have any particular destination in mind, so she just drove until she felt like pulling over for a while. When she did pull over, it was in the least probable place; Brouji Falls. Without thinking, she got out of the car and wandered through the woods back to the little hidden waterfall, it was a miracle that no one else had found this place. It was public property, woods behind an old rusted playground that no one went to anymore. She made a mental note to herself to try and buy the land so she could own the little waterfall, but then she realized that it would be unfair to Vegeta. But who said that he couldn't go there once she owned it? Would she stop him? She thought on it a moment, and came to the conclusion that that's what would most likely happen, she would buy the land with the undisturbed little waterfall and not allowed Vegeta to go there. It would be like a punishment to him, and then she would rename it something that would drive Vegeta crazy, something cutesy and annoying. And the more she thought about it, the more she wanted so much to do it, but then she noticed the little posted sign on one of the trees. Someone had bought this land along with the waterfall and it was a no trespassing area. She got closer to the bright orange sign and read it through:
POSTED
Trespassers on this land will not be tolerated. Any persons found on the property will be dealt with as the owner sees fit. Any damage to the property will be fined to the person held accountable and if they cannot pay they will be responsible for repairs to the area. This land and Brouji Falls is for the private use of its owner, Mr. Vegeta Ouji, and it is not for the public.
Signed,
Department of Property of Satan City (I just winged that whole thing, heehee :P)
Bulma was so angry that she almost ripped the sign off the tree out of rage, but she knew that was immature and that Vegeta was just trying something new to get her to talk to him. But, little did he know, she wasn't gullible enough to fall for that little trick; she simply wouldn't go to the falls anymore, as hard as it would be. And what did he think he was doing keeping the name they'd thought of all those years ago? Did he think that would win her back and melt her heart and she'd fall head over heals for him again? He obviously didn't know her half as well as he thought, for she was far more stubborn than even he knew. She'd let him know just how pathetic his attempt was the next time he came to pick up Trunks, in a note of course.
**********************************
Bulma sat perched on the desk in the lecture hall, legs crossed, determined to act normal and as if Vegeta wasn't there at all. Even he outfit reflected her determination; knee-length red skirt, button-up white silk top, with a few buttons undone, and a red bra underneath, if she gave a damn about Vegeta being there she would have dressed more conservatively.
Most of the class was there by now, with the obvious absence of Vegeta, for the time being. Yesterday he'd said he would be back today, and the rest of the week, and there was no doubt in Bulma's mind that it had not been a bluff. It wasn't his style. He didn't say he was going to do one thing the way he had, then not show. It was the second before the bell rang that Vegeta came waltzing in, the little whore on his heels, appearing, from where Bulma sat, to be begging him for something. There must have been trouble in paradise.
"Ok class," she said, trying to grab their attention. Quite a few less than yesterday stopped talking immediately. She repeated herself. "I said, OK CLASS!" That got their attention, all of them. "Thank you. Ok, as you know, Professor Saya Mitsui will be joining us today, but she's running a little late so I'll fill in until she gets here."
A hand shot up and Bulma rolled her eyes, she definitely didn't have the tolerance to be a teacher, she wondered why she ever let the school talk her into it.
"What?" The boy shivered a little at the rigidness of her voice.
"W-Why is she late?"
"Traffic. Ok, anymore boring, waste-of-my-valuable-time, questions?" The room went dead. "Ok then." She clasped her hands together, then set them by her sides on the desk and let her legs come uncrossed and swing back and forth, a little action that drove men crazy, though those weren't her intentions, her legs were simply getting cramped. "Last night I went over my curriculum for this lecture class, and I came upon some extra time. So, while we wait, I'm going to talk about Capsule Corp., how the capsules were invented and the item most commonly called the "transporter." I am going to tell you about these things because they are what I know best, what I had a hand in creating, and because I'm the teacher and I say what goes. Boo-hoo if you don't like it, you should be studying education then."
Vegeta smirked down at his fiery little woman, being utterly aroused by her manner. When they'd been together it was always her who took control, well, most of the time, and he loved it, in bed anyway. She knew what she wanted and she went for it and gave him many nights to remember in return; she was very good at what she did, and she knew it.
For a good twenty minutes Bulma went on and on about Capsule Corp., boring half the class and intriguing the other, and Vegeta was in the latter of course, she had his full attention the whole time, and would for the rest of the week. Then finally the Professor came in, soaking wet and carrying her binders and such under her arms; she looked pissed.
"Miss Mitsui," Bulma said sweetly, hopping off the desk and offering to help her with her things. She accepting the offer, though she was still sore about being late and wet. "How are you?" Wrong question, very wrong.
"How the hell do you think I am you little priss?" she sneered, slamming a binder on the desk and whipping some dripping wet hair from her eyes.
"Well it's nice and warm in here, you'll dry off eventually. Would you like to start now, or shall I continue?"
"Continue, I don't care. I'm too old for this crap," she grumbled, taking the chair at the desk and pushing it against the wall. Bulma had heard that she was a bit ill-tempered, but this was dangerous, she didn't think she was this bad, it would be hard for her to bite her tongue and swallow her pride, and Vegeta could see it in her eyes.
"Alright, as I was saying." She directed her attention back to the class. "Harnessing that type of energy was extremely difficult, one of the hardest things me and my father ever did and one of the most dangerous. We ended up blowing up the lab more than once when some of the chemicals got volatile. B-"
"What on earth are you blabbering about?" Professor Mitsui interrupted, glaring at the beautiful genius, jealous that she was so young and so beautiful and so intelligent all at the same time. Bulma clenched her teeth and took a deep breath, trying not to let her anger get the best of her. "Well?"
"I'm discussing how my father and myself created the 'transpoter.'"
"Ha! You helped Dr. Briefs make the transporter? That's a good one. You must have been five years old."
"Seven," Bulma sneered, barely able to keep from yelling. She took another deep breath, put on a fake smile, and turned around to face the grouchy Professor. "I was five when we created the capsules."
"And you honestly believe that we are going to believe you?"
"I don't see why not. It's true."
"No, everyone knows that Dr. Briefs did it on his own. Your name isn't on the patent."
"He was protecting my future from the media," she said through her teeth.
"Right, you're just jealous he's accomplished more than you."
"She would never lie and she has no reason to be jealous of her father," came a voice from the students. Slowly Bulma turned around, confirming her suspicions, it was Vegeta. "She DID help him in creating the capsules and the transporters, without her he wouldn't have finished them so quickly."
"Oh, is that a fact?" Mitsui growled. "And how the hell would you know?"
"Because I've known her and her father all my life. I was there when they completed the projects."
"Sure," she snorted, standing and grabbing her things. "I think you people will learn all you need to know from Miss Priss here, so I'll be going. I don't need to waste my time being insulted."
"Insulted!?" Bulma roared, slapping her hands on the desk. "Insulted!? I have been nothing but kind to your shriveled little has-been ass! I've bit my tongue more than once to keep from being disrespectful to you when you insulted ME for no damn reason! Get out of my class!"
The entire class cheered and/or clapped as the bitter Professor exited the room.
"Ok, now where was I?" She smoothed down her hair that hung unrestrained and rested on her shoulders. She continued on with her discussion, having a much better time with her class today than yesterday, because now they accepted her completely. A few times during the period Vegeta caught her eyes, and instead of turning away quickly, she smiled then slowly turned her head away. Not to say that she wasn't still furious with him and everything, but what he had done was selfless and he didn't have to do it and he knew that. He knew that she wouldn't come running to him with open arms waiting him back, he did it simply to be nice.
Soon, before Bulma knew it, the class period was over and the students started to exit the room. She'd been enjoying herself so much she hadn't noticed the time and was utterly stunned when the bell rang. When half the class was gone, she hopped off her desk and began picking up her things, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Vegeta was one of the last students to leave. She watched him so intently, that she didn't notice that she'd stopped picking up her things and her head was turned to face him. Surprisingly he wasn't looking over at her, or if he was, she didn't notice. It was eating away at her that she hadn't thanked him for helping her out with the guest speaker. She was still angry, but she wasn't rude when it came to things like that, she prided herself in such things.
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out any thought of her ex, and when she opened her eyes again, the class had cleared out almost completely, Vegeta just having slipped out the door; she just barely caught a glimpse of his wild hair.
"Vegeta!" she called out, shocking herself. She hadn't meant to do that, and she wasn't even completely sure she had until he came back in the room. She couldn't help but gasp when she saw him again, confirming what she'd done. How was she going to get away from this? She'd called him over, he hadn't just come over to try and get her to talk, she'd willingly offered her voice to him. How could she have done that? She'd sworn to never speak to him again, and here she was, face to face with him, after she'd called upon him. And no matter how many angles she looked at it from, how many possibilities of escape raced through her head, she couldn't think of a logical one. She had to talk to him, and she had no one but herself to blame.
"Bulma?" His voice broke her train of thought, and she looked up, startling herself even though she knew he was there.
"I-I-" She cut herself off, averting her eyes to the floor, finding it harder to look into his eyes now than any other time. She wanted so badly to just yell at him, to slap him or something, but she knew that was wrong, even for who he was. He'd helped her out when he knew he didn't have to; he deserved a thank you. "I-Thank you, for-You know." She stopped there, feeling that was sufficient enough for her broken promise to herself. She'd really be kicking herself tonight for this one.
"Was that to me?" he asked, not meaning for it to come out so rude, so..Vegeta-like. And foolishly he continued, not being able to stop himself. "Are you finally lowering yourself to speak to me? Or are my ears deceiving me?" Bulma couldn't believe her ears, had he really just done that? How stupid could he be?
"Oh my Kami Vegeta!" she screamed, throwing her binder at him, her papers flying in all directions. "What the hell is wrong with you!? Seriously!? I cannot, even for you, believe that you just did that! Have you learned nothing in the last year!? Has my silence not taught you anything!?" She grabbed another item to throw at him, a large textbook this time, and hit him in the shin; it would most definitely bruise. "I take it by YOUR silence that I'm right, that you haven't learned one thing from any of this and that you're still the same."
And then he did the worst thing he could have done. He laughed. And not just a little chuckle, he laughed 'til he was almost in tears. By the time he was done, Bulma was gone, half her papers still on the ground. He whipped his eyes and picked up her papers, neatening them and setting them on the desk for when she came back. But when he went to leave, he was suddenly struck with the realization of what had just taken place.
*Did I just laugh at her?* he asked himself as he stopped dead in his tracks. *No, I couldn't have. Right?* But he had, and he knew it, and there was nothing he could do. He needed some advice, and quick.
*************************************
Chi-Chi sat in a desk in an enormous lecture hall, her head resting on her hand, her elbow on the desktop; she was almost asleep. Her husband, Goku, wasn't in this class with her, so she inevitably didn't pay much attention, because she was too busy wondering what he was up to. She was thinking about how odd it was that she was even going to this college, it was weird how she changed her mind so much just because she was married to Goku now. She had wanted to go to a college out of the city, but when she heard Goku was coming here, quickly changed her mind.
"Miss Son? Miss Son? Hello up there?" the teacher called, catching her attention.
"It's Mrs. Son," she corrected, crossing her arms.
"Whatever. There's a message for you in the office."
"From who?" she asked, gathering her things and heading towards the door.
"Your brother. Some emergency at home."
"Oh Kami!" She was out the door before anyone could blink.
*************************************
---Chapter 3!!! Ok, there's another chapter. I know, I know, they're really short. But they'll get longer, I promise. It's just that it's getting towards the end to the year, and I have finals and stuff and I don't have as much time to work on this as I would like, but I want to get the chapters out, so they turn out a lot shorter than I wanted them to be. Sorry :/
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Next time: Err..Your guess is as good as mine.
"I-I-I said over a little," she stuttered, raising her eyebrows in innocence. Kami, how could she have let that slip? And right when Rikyu was just warming up to her. He'd been reluctant to go any further than kissing with her, and though she pushed, he never caved; morals or something, she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I really am tired. I thought I had enough energy, but I'm bushed." She kissed his cheek quickly, then pulled for him to follow her upstairs. "Come on, I want to sleep in your arms tonight."
He smiled gingerly at her, over looking what she'd said, and he'd heard her. It would take longer than he thought for her to get completely over him. He understood, it was the same way with him and his first love.
****************************************
His hands slid slowly up her back as he laid her on the silken sheets of the bed. His ministrations were almost painfully slow; for he wanted her to feel every bit of pleasure he was giving her. This was her night, and after all she'd been through, she deserved every minute of it.
She arched her back and he kissed his way down her chest and stomach, and, when he got to the rim of her lacey panties, smirked and ripped them off. She let out a tiny gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as his tongue worked its miracle on her. She was about to scream his name when he suddenly stopped and looked up at her with his huge onyx eyes.
"Woman," he whispered, resting his chin on her trembling knee. She leaned her head up and propped herself on her elbows to better look at him.
"Hmm?" she barely managed, her messy aqua marine hair sticking to her forehead.
"Are you happy? With me I mean." She could tell that he'd rehearsed it by himself for sometime before deciding to ask her, and it took all his pride to do so.
"Oh 'Geta," she sighed with an exasperated little laugh. "Of course I am. You should know that."
He simply frowned back at her, but couldn't hold it for long and it eventually turned into a broad smirk.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she admitted shamelessly with her sweet smile.
"Yeah, you're not so bad yourself," he countered with as much attitude as he could muster. But she could tell that what he meant was, "Me too."
"Why thank you," she laughed, tilting her head a little to the side; she couldn't have looked more cute.
"Woman I-" But he stopped short, the words completely falling from his mouth. "Woman, you mean m-" And again his words fell, dropped like lead to the floor. But he was persistent, and tried again. "I've never fe-" He looked down at his hands; he just couldn't get out what he was dying to say to her. "I-" It was Bulma who stopped him this time.
"I'm not ready if you're not ready," she whispered reassuringly, leaning up and hugging him to her. "Come on, I really need a nice warm bubble bath." And she hopped off the bed and pulled a long tee shirt over her head. "And I need some company too."
Bulma shot up in bed, nearly waking Rikyu in the process. He only groaned and turned over, but didn't wake. She sighed with relief and leaned back on the headboard, trying to hold onto the dream just a little longer. It was a memory of her and Vegeta just before she started to show, a recurring dream that she'd been having ever since Trunks was born. She couldn't quite figure out why the hell she kept having this dream and so often, about twice a week, but she really didn't mind them; they were comforting, in a strange way. But then, looking down at the peaceful slumbering Rikyu, she suddenly felt guilty, as if thinking of Vegeta or liking that dream was like cheating on him. She knew she was foolish to think that, but in a way it was sort of betrayal, because while you're with someone you're supposed to remain faithful in body and mind, and she was tittering on the breaking point of the latter.
She sunk back down into the blankets and tried to fall back asleep, but, after about an hour of trying, found it would be impossible at that time. She'd get up and do something for an hour or so and then try again. She slipped on her cotton robe and matching slippers, and quieting tiptoed out of the room so not to wake Rikyu or Trunks in the next room. When she finally made it to her destination, the lab, she realized that it wouldn't be such a good idea for her to work on any projects because she'd most likely get too involved and loose track of time, plus most of the equipment was run by big generators that made a lot of noise when everything else was quiet.
"Kami damn it," she groaned as she entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table. Trunks' highchair was still out and there was a new note on the refrigerator with different handwriting. She grabbed the chair, folded it up, and put it back where it belonged, then went over to the fridge and read the note; it was from Kimiko:
Hey sis,
I guess you're asleep now cause your car's here and your door's shut. Anyway, Mrs. Ouji called while you were gone and wants you to call her tomorrow when you get a chance.
Kimi
P.S. Shirosama forgot to tell you in his note before, he says he's sorry.
Bulma crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash, making a mental note to herself to call Mrs. Ouji tomorrow. She smiled, despite the relation to Vegeta; they'd been having play dates together for a while now, that was without a doubt what she'd called about. Little Tsukiyama and Trunks got along so well, and she was so damn adorable with her black hair and violet eyes. The last place they had been to was a mother-daughter-baby beauty pageant; they had to pretend to be mother and daughter for that, which Bulma had no problem doing, except for when Mrs. Ouji made a comment about her marrying Vegeta and being her daughter anyway. She'd apologized profusely after that, knowing that it was uncomfortable for her to have her ex-boyfriend mentioned. She hadn't known exactly why they broke up, only that it was Vegeta's fault in some way.
*Maybe I could call her now* she wondered, glancing at the clock. But it was far too late, way passed midnight. She sighed deeply, pacing around the kitchen, trying to figure out something to do to pass some time. She was so tired, but that dream always kept her up late; damn her lingering feelings! She hated it, how she still felt something for Vegeta even after what he'd done to her, and she'd been trying her damnedest to stop thinking about him, to get over him. It was harder than she thought it would be. She'd thought that after him doing something that horrible to her that it would be a cinch to just get over him without a second thought, but her heart was lagging behind her brain and wasn't going to catch up anytime soon.
Eventually she wandered into the living room, where Ryu, who was seven as of last week, was curled in a little ball on the biggest couch. The television was on, some infomercial or something, and the volume was turned to almost zero. Lately he'd gotten into the bad habit of staying up late on school nights to watch TV and then fall asleep. Bulma's mother or father or one of the older siblings were usually up late enough to take care of him, so he must have snuck out of his room. That was another one of his little bad habits that he'd recently developed, being a sneak; just a month ago he'd snuck out of the house at midnight to play at the park down the road because Mrs. Briefs told him he couldn't go for a punishment. They'd have to keep a good eye on him, and make sure he didn't influence little three-year-old Mai who looked up to him.
Bulma simply starred at her littlest brother for a long time before attempting to pick him up, he was an extremely light sleeper. She was trying to imagine what Trunks would look like when he was that old, and older, teenager and adult. Would he turn out more like her or, unfortunately, more like his father? Vegeta, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was a huge influence on her son's life and that would always be a factor. What if he turned into his high school's male whore like his father was for all those years? What if he made bets to steal girls' virginity by the end of the week? Or what if he becomes a teen parent like them and doesn't end up with the mother? What if he's bitter and hateful and doesn't focus on life's miracles? She sighed deeply, covering her mouth so not to wake Ryu; she was hardly a good candidate for the last question, just like Vegeta. She was bitter about their failed relationship and that he'd cheated on her, she was hateful towards him for those reasons as well and at Arisa, and she certainly didn't focus on the good all the time, she was far too worried about Trunks' future for that. And in upset her that she couldn't simply look at her son and see him for the miracle that he was, well she could do that, but she always had the nagging questions locked in the back of her head, eating away at her until one day she would finally get the answers.
Finally, after gazing at her brother for a while, she carefully picked him up and carried him to his room on the third floor; the attic had to be turned into a bedroom when Ryu was born, and then two after Mai. Surprisingly, he didn't stir in the least; he'd probably been up later than she thought and was dead tired. She quietly walked out of his room, gently pulling the door shut; it was harder than one might think to keep him from waking. After she was successfully in the hall, she decided to go check up on Mai. She was a much heavier sleeper, Bulma didn't even have to tiptoe into her room or keep from breathing too hard. She lay there, her limbs spread out in all directions, her pillow covered in drool; Bulma was a drooler too. The first thing she noticed, after her uncomfortable looking position, was her hair, it was shorter than the last time she'd seen her, the night before. She has the same color hair as Trunks, though slightly darker, and it had been down to the middle of her back. Now it was shorter in length, and a good look for her, Bulma thought, for she had the right hair type for that, thin and straight. And she was such an adorable little girl, she would definitely be a knock out by the time she was a teenager. Hopefully she'd have more sense than Bulma and not get pregnant at 18. But she was extremely intelligent for her age, like Bulma had been, and she knew she could learn from her mistakes and live her life before she had to care for another. She didn't even like playing "mommy" with toy dolls like Bulma had when she was that age, sure she'd been into technology at the same time, being fascinated and all, but she still had time to be a "regular" little girl. Mai wasn't like that though, in the least; she'd play outside with Ryu and get all dirty and mud covered when she wasn't in the lab with Dr. Briefs absorbing everything he said. In fact, she despised dolls and the whole idea of them, "Why would anyone want to pretend a plastic person in alive?" she'd asked one time when Bulma had been telling her about her old doll collection, and then she'd run off with Ryu and had a mud ball fight. She was so dirty that her parents had had to hose her down in the back yard, but then she'd just jumped in a pile of dirt while she was still wet and got dirty all over again. Bulma never understood that about her, but she knew that not all the girls in the family would end up with some of her mother's traits, there had to be at least one that was different, and it was Mai.
"Bulma?" The sound of her name brought her back to reality, Mai had woken up.
"Hmm?" she asked, not being able to think of anything else to say.
"What are you doing?" She rubbed her tired eyes with her little balled fists and sat up, barely able to keep from flopping back on the pillow. "What time is it?"
"It's late, sorry. I had to put Ryu to bed and then I came to check on you before I went back to bed. When did you cut your hair?"
"Jun'ko did it today."
"How come? Didn't you like your long hair?"
"I guess," she shrugged, beginning to wake up a little. "It was beginning to bother me though, it always got in my way. Besides, Ryu always pulls it when we're playing, and I don't want him having the advantage." Bulma smiled sweetly at her, she sounded more like a scholar than a three- year-old child; definitely her father's daughter. "I think it looks better," she added, laying back down and pulling the covers up.
"I like it. It suits you." She leaned over and opened her arms, which Mai responded to by wrapping her arms around her neck. "I'll leave you alone now. Good night." She kissed her on the cheek and left.
She headed back towards her room, but when her hand touched the doorknob, she realized that she wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. That memory was too powerful for her. So, instead of getting angry about not being able to sleep, she decided to take a little drive. That might get her mind off some things, Vegeta mainly, but she didn't want to admit that. She didn't have any particular destination in mind, so she just drove until she felt like pulling over for a while. When she did pull over, it was in the least probable place; Brouji Falls. Without thinking, she got out of the car and wandered through the woods back to the little hidden waterfall, it was a miracle that no one else had found this place. It was public property, woods behind an old rusted playground that no one went to anymore. She made a mental note to herself to try and buy the land so she could own the little waterfall, but then she realized that it would be unfair to Vegeta. But who said that he couldn't go there once she owned it? Would she stop him? She thought on it a moment, and came to the conclusion that that's what would most likely happen, she would buy the land with the undisturbed little waterfall and not allowed Vegeta to go there. It would be like a punishment to him, and then she would rename it something that would drive Vegeta crazy, something cutesy and annoying. And the more she thought about it, the more she wanted so much to do it, but then she noticed the little posted sign on one of the trees. Someone had bought this land along with the waterfall and it was a no trespassing area. She got closer to the bright orange sign and read it through:
POSTED
Trespassers on this land will not be tolerated. Any persons found on the property will be dealt with as the owner sees fit. Any damage to the property will be fined to the person held accountable and if they cannot pay they will be responsible for repairs to the area. This land and Brouji Falls is for the private use of its owner, Mr. Vegeta Ouji, and it is not for the public.
Signed,
Department of Property of Satan City (I just winged that whole thing, heehee :P)
Bulma was so angry that she almost ripped the sign off the tree out of rage, but she knew that was immature and that Vegeta was just trying something new to get her to talk to him. But, little did he know, she wasn't gullible enough to fall for that little trick; she simply wouldn't go to the falls anymore, as hard as it would be. And what did he think he was doing keeping the name they'd thought of all those years ago? Did he think that would win her back and melt her heart and she'd fall head over heals for him again? He obviously didn't know her half as well as he thought, for she was far more stubborn than even he knew. She'd let him know just how pathetic his attempt was the next time he came to pick up Trunks, in a note of course.
**********************************
Bulma sat perched on the desk in the lecture hall, legs crossed, determined to act normal and as if Vegeta wasn't there at all. Even he outfit reflected her determination; knee-length red skirt, button-up white silk top, with a few buttons undone, and a red bra underneath, if she gave a damn about Vegeta being there she would have dressed more conservatively.
Most of the class was there by now, with the obvious absence of Vegeta, for the time being. Yesterday he'd said he would be back today, and the rest of the week, and there was no doubt in Bulma's mind that it had not been a bluff. It wasn't his style. He didn't say he was going to do one thing the way he had, then not show. It was the second before the bell rang that Vegeta came waltzing in, the little whore on his heels, appearing, from where Bulma sat, to be begging him for something. There must have been trouble in paradise.
"Ok class," she said, trying to grab their attention. Quite a few less than yesterday stopped talking immediately. She repeated herself. "I said, OK CLASS!" That got their attention, all of them. "Thank you. Ok, as you know, Professor Saya Mitsui will be joining us today, but she's running a little late so I'll fill in until she gets here."
A hand shot up and Bulma rolled her eyes, she definitely didn't have the tolerance to be a teacher, she wondered why she ever let the school talk her into it.
"What?" The boy shivered a little at the rigidness of her voice.
"W-Why is she late?"
"Traffic. Ok, anymore boring, waste-of-my-valuable-time, questions?" The room went dead. "Ok then." She clasped her hands together, then set them by her sides on the desk and let her legs come uncrossed and swing back and forth, a little action that drove men crazy, though those weren't her intentions, her legs were simply getting cramped. "Last night I went over my curriculum for this lecture class, and I came upon some extra time. So, while we wait, I'm going to talk about Capsule Corp., how the capsules were invented and the item most commonly called the "transporter." I am going to tell you about these things because they are what I know best, what I had a hand in creating, and because I'm the teacher and I say what goes. Boo-hoo if you don't like it, you should be studying education then."
Vegeta smirked down at his fiery little woman, being utterly aroused by her manner. When they'd been together it was always her who took control, well, most of the time, and he loved it, in bed anyway. She knew what she wanted and she went for it and gave him many nights to remember in return; she was very good at what she did, and she knew it.
For a good twenty minutes Bulma went on and on about Capsule Corp., boring half the class and intriguing the other, and Vegeta was in the latter of course, she had his full attention the whole time, and would for the rest of the week. Then finally the Professor came in, soaking wet and carrying her binders and such under her arms; she looked pissed.
"Miss Mitsui," Bulma said sweetly, hopping off the desk and offering to help her with her things. She accepting the offer, though she was still sore about being late and wet. "How are you?" Wrong question, very wrong.
"How the hell do you think I am you little priss?" she sneered, slamming a binder on the desk and whipping some dripping wet hair from her eyes.
"Well it's nice and warm in here, you'll dry off eventually. Would you like to start now, or shall I continue?"
"Continue, I don't care. I'm too old for this crap," she grumbled, taking the chair at the desk and pushing it against the wall. Bulma had heard that she was a bit ill-tempered, but this was dangerous, she didn't think she was this bad, it would be hard for her to bite her tongue and swallow her pride, and Vegeta could see it in her eyes.
"Alright, as I was saying." She directed her attention back to the class. "Harnessing that type of energy was extremely difficult, one of the hardest things me and my father ever did and one of the most dangerous. We ended up blowing up the lab more than once when some of the chemicals got volatile. B-"
"What on earth are you blabbering about?" Professor Mitsui interrupted, glaring at the beautiful genius, jealous that she was so young and so beautiful and so intelligent all at the same time. Bulma clenched her teeth and took a deep breath, trying not to let her anger get the best of her. "Well?"
"I'm discussing how my father and myself created the 'transpoter.'"
"Ha! You helped Dr. Briefs make the transporter? That's a good one. You must have been five years old."
"Seven," Bulma sneered, barely able to keep from yelling. She took another deep breath, put on a fake smile, and turned around to face the grouchy Professor. "I was five when we created the capsules."
"And you honestly believe that we are going to believe you?"
"I don't see why not. It's true."
"No, everyone knows that Dr. Briefs did it on his own. Your name isn't on the patent."
"He was protecting my future from the media," she said through her teeth.
"Right, you're just jealous he's accomplished more than you."
"She would never lie and she has no reason to be jealous of her father," came a voice from the students. Slowly Bulma turned around, confirming her suspicions, it was Vegeta. "She DID help him in creating the capsules and the transporters, without her he wouldn't have finished them so quickly."
"Oh, is that a fact?" Mitsui growled. "And how the hell would you know?"
"Because I've known her and her father all my life. I was there when they completed the projects."
"Sure," she snorted, standing and grabbing her things. "I think you people will learn all you need to know from Miss Priss here, so I'll be going. I don't need to waste my time being insulted."
"Insulted!?" Bulma roared, slapping her hands on the desk. "Insulted!? I have been nothing but kind to your shriveled little has-been ass! I've bit my tongue more than once to keep from being disrespectful to you when you insulted ME for no damn reason! Get out of my class!"
The entire class cheered and/or clapped as the bitter Professor exited the room.
"Ok, now where was I?" She smoothed down her hair that hung unrestrained and rested on her shoulders. She continued on with her discussion, having a much better time with her class today than yesterday, because now they accepted her completely. A few times during the period Vegeta caught her eyes, and instead of turning away quickly, she smiled then slowly turned her head away. Not to say that she wasn't still furious with him and everything, but what he had done was selfless and he didn't have to do it and he knew that. He knew that she wouldn't come running to him with open arms waiting him back, he did it simply to be nice.
Soon, before Bulma knew it, the class period was over and the students started to exit the room. She'd been enjoying herself so much she hadn't noticed the time and was utterly stunned when the bell rang. When half the class was gone, she hopped off her desk and began picking up her things, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Vegeta was one of the last students to leave. She watched him so intently, that she didn't notice that she'd stopped picking up her things and her head was turned to face him. Surprisingly he wasn't looking over at her, or if he was, she didn't notice. It was eating away at her that she hadn't thanked him for helping her out with the guest speaker. She was still angry, but she wasn't rude when it came to things like that, she prided herself in such things.
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out any thought of her ex, and when she opened her eyes again, the class had cleared out almost completely, Vegeta just having slipped out the door; she just barely caught a glimpse of his wild hair.
"Vegeta!" she called out, shocking herself. She hadn't meant to do that, and she wasn't even completely sure she had until he came back in the room. She couldn't help but gasp when she saw him again, confirming what she'd done. How was she going to get away from this? She'd called him over, he hadn't just come over to try and get her to talk, she'd willingly offered her voice to him. How could she have done that? She'd sworn to never speak to him again, and here she was, face to face with him, after she'd called upon him. And no matter how many angles she looked at it from, how many possibilities of escape raced through her head, she couldn't think of a logical one. She had to talk to him, and she had no one but herself to blame.
"Bulma?" His voice broke her train of thought, and she looked up, startling herself even though she knew he was there.
"I-I-" She cut herself off, averting her eyes to the floor, finding it harder to look into his eyes now than any other time. She wanted so badly to just yell at him, to slap him or something, but she knew that was wrong, even for who he was. He'd helped her out when he knew he didn't have to; he deserved a thank you. "I-Thank you, for-You know." She stopped there, feeling that was sufficient enough for her broken promise to herself. She'd really be kicking herself tonight for this one.
"Was that to me?" he asked, not meaning for it to come out so rude, so..Vegeta-like. And foolishly he continued, not being able to stop himself. "Are you finally lowering yourself to speak to me? Or are my ears deceiving me?" Bulma couldn't believe her ears, had he really just done that? How stupid could he be?
"Oh my Kami Vegeta!" she screamed, throwing her binder at him, her papers flying in all directions. "What the hell is wrong with you!? Seriously!? I cannot, even for you, believe that you just did that! Have you learned nothing in the last year!? Has my silence not taught you anything!?" She grabbed another item to throw at him, a large textbook this time, and hit him in the shin; it would most definitely bruise. "I take it by YOUR silence that I'm right, that you haven't learned one thing from any of this and that you're still the same."
And then he did the worst thing he could have done. He laughed. And not just a little chuckle, he laughed 'til he was almost in tears. By the time he was done, Bulma was gone, half her papers still on the ground. He whipped his eyes and picked up her papers, neatening them and setting them on the desk for when she came back. But when he went to leave, he was suddenly struck with the realization of what had just taken place.
*Did I just laugh at her?* he asked himself as he stopped dead in his tracks. *No, I couldn't have. Right?* But he had, and he knew it, and there was nothing he could do. He needed some advice, and quick.
*************************************
Chi-Chi sat in a desk in an enormous lecture hall, her head resting on her hand, her elbow on the desktop; she was almost asleep. Her husband, Goku, wasn't in this class with her, so she inevitably didn't pay much attention, because she was too busy wondering what he was up to. She was thinking about how odd it was that she was even going to this college, it was weird how she changed her mind so much just because she was married to Goku now. She had wanted to go to a college out of the city, but when she heard Goku was coming here, quickly changed her mind.
"Miss Son? Miss Son? Hello up there?" the teacher called, catching her attention.
"It's Mrs. Son," she corrected, crossing her arms.
"Whatever. There's a message for you in the office."
"From who?" she asked, gathering her things and heading towards the door.
"Your brother. Some emergency at home."
"Oh Kami!" She was out the door before anyone could blink.
*************************************
---Chapter 3!!! Ok, there's another chapter. I know, I know, they're really short. But they'll get longer, I promise. It's just that it's getting towards the end to the year, and I have finals and stuff and I don't have as much time to work on this as I would like, but I want to get the chapters out, so they turn out a lot shorter than I wanted them to be. Sorry :/
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Next time: Err..Your guess is as good as mine.