Chapter 3 (Or 4 counting Prologue)
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ
Bulma was playing with her new puppy the next day. She hadn't talked to Vegeta since yesterday, when he brought it to her. He was acting weird, like he was embarrassed about it. But at least she wouldn't wail at him anymore. "I wonder why he was gone so long if he was just looking for a puppy?" Bulma wondered. She was waiting for Yamcha to call her back. He said he was busy when she called him just about 30 minutes ago. There had been a female voice in the background.
"Who was that?" Bulma had asked. "It was my mother," Yamcha had said, "Who did you think it was?" But Bulma had still been suspicious. Then he'd said he was busy, and he'd hung up on her. But she was getting irritated at him, anyway, so she was glad he had hung up. Bulma was about to pick up her pup and go to her room when she heard footsteps. She snatched up her dog and turned her head towards the sound. It was Vegeta coming in to get some milk. "I have a surprise." Bulma said to Vegeta. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything, as if it would waste his voice.
"Well, what is it?" Vegeta asked. "Hurry it up, now. I'm hungry and need to train." Bulma frowned. "Alright, alright. Well, your GR should be done in a few days. 2 or 3, matter of fact." Vegeta hadn't noticed that she had switched the expensive metal parts with the ones that were almost plastic, so all was well. Vegeta smirked slightly. "That's good." He said thoughtfully. Then he looked at her puppy.
"Thanks for my dog." Bulma said. "Even though I know you only bought it to silence my wailing." She hugged the fuzzy dog. Vegeta looked at it someore. "Am I going to regret buying you that mutt?" He asked suddenly. "No." Bulma said. "I won't sic it on you. And you can come and pet it; it's not going to bite you." Vegeta snorted. "NO!" He said. "It's too cute and fuzzy. Too much so for me to pet." He opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a carrot stick, and walked out.
"Yamcha," Bulma said, "Goku and Chichi are having a banquet." Yamcha cleared his throat. "Oh? When do I need to rent a tux?" He asked. "You don't," Bulma said. "It's before you get back. And because you said that you can't possibly make it back early for ANY causes, I'll either have to go alone or go with someone else." Yamcha snorted like a pig. "You'll go by yourself, surely? There's no other single guys around, really." Bulma shrugged, even though Yamcha couldn't hear her. "I don't know." She said. "I could pick someone up."
Suddenly, Bulma heard the doorbell. "Sorry, honey, I have to go." Bulma said. "Somebody's here, and Vegeta won't get the door. I know he won't. See you later.' She hung up without waiting for a goodbye and rushed down the stairs. "Wait!" She called as the doorbell buzzed again. She saw the back of Vegeta's hair over the back of the couch. He was watching TV. She swung open the door. Goku and Chichi were both standing there. They let themselves in.
Bulma noticed out of the corner of her eye that Vegeta turned around. When he saw Goku his eyes widened, and then he got up and walked silently up the stairs, grumbling something the whole way.
"We have to talk to you about something important." Goku said. "We know you'll probably say no, but we can't do anything else." Bulma could tell they were really embarrassed about what they were about to say. "As you know, me and Chichi are really poor," Goku said. "Neither of us works." He trailed off again, and Chichi continued. "Well, we just realized that we can't possibly afford to have our party at the country club. And we can't cancel it, because we already sent about 50 invitations. So we were wondering if you could let us have our banquet at your house." Then, Chichi just trailed off.
"Sure!" Bulma said. "We've got plenty of room, and I love parties!" She clasped her hands. "I'm sure mom and dad and Veg-" She stopped abruptly. "Vegeta lives here too, you know." She said. "He has no where to go if he doesn't want to stay for it. I think, out of politeness, I'd better ask him if it's okay with him." Chichi's eyes grew big. "As VEGETA for permission? It's your house!" Bulma nodded. "I know, and he doesn't deserve these kind of privileges, but if we ask now, we may avoid a nasty fight later. So you two just run on home to avoid it if it gets nasty. I'll call you." Chichi nodded. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay here and watch over you?" Goku asked. Bulma nodded. "Go." They rushed out the door.
"Vegeta?" Bulma said, knocking on his door. She could hear by his grunts that he was doing push-ups. "What do you want, woman! I thought buying you that mutt would silence your quacking tongue!" Bulma laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't ask you." She said. There was a pause.
"What do you want?" Vegeta said again, starting over the conversation. "That's better." Bulma said under her breath. "I need to ask you something." She said. "WHAT?" Vegeta growled from his room. "Uhhhh.I need to ask you if it's okay that we have a party here. I thought that it's your house too, right now, and it would be loud. I wanted to know if it would be o-"
"NO!" Vegeta roared from his room. "Yes, that's all I need, Kakarott and all his nerdy friends, along with you, to be at the house I hate but have to stay in. Plus, your loser boyfriend would be here!" Bulma got mad at Vegeta's nickname for Yamcha. "No, actually he won't. Yamcha's away at his mother's house." The door suddenly creaked open. Vegeta was sweaty, shirtless, and smirking. "Yeah, I'll bet." Vegeta growled. "I bet he's screwing some blond woman right now." Bulma was outraged. "How dare you accuse my boyfriend of something like that! You have no proof!"
Vegeta nodded. "Yes, I do. I've overheard some of your phone calls. His mother supposedly dies a while ago, and you believe him when he says she's alive again?" Bulma refused to believe him. "That's none of your business! Do you care about the party?"
"Of course I care about the party!" Vegeta said. "I don't want it! You won't have it as long as I'm here!" Bulma felt tears of rage at her eyes. "I asked you to be polite!" She screamed. "I don't care what you say! I'm having the party anyway, next Sunday! And there's nothing you can do about it, Mr.!" Vegeta looked taken aback.
"Yes there is." He said in a teasing voice. "I could kill you." Bulma laughed. "You wouldn't. Your GR is almost done." Vegeta's eyes widened. "You'd better watch out once it's finished." He growled. "And if you have this party, and your loser won't be here, who will you go with?"
Bulma shook her head. "I don't know. It's none of your business anyway. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and buy a cocktail dress." She stomped out. Vegeta felt like grabbing her and arguing a little more, but decided against it. He went back in his room.
Vegeta was in his room, doing push-ups. He was thinking about the party. "I know she won't listen to me." Vegeta said. "She's too pig-headed. She's going to have the party anyway; I just know it." He laid down on the ground to rest his abs. Then, he remembered something he couldn't believe he had forgotten! One of his Saiyan customs!
Vegeta would have to go to this party. He had no where else to go. And one custom of Saiyans was that on every formal occasion, if you were over the age of 5, you had to have a date! They didn't call it a date on Planet Vegeta, but it was the same thing. It was to promote reproduction. He didn't need to promote reproduction on Earth, but he would feel bad if forced to give up his Saiyan customs. He took a deep breath. "No one to go with!" He said. "I can't just abandon my customs! I'm a Saiyan Prince; it wouldn't be right!" He punched his bed. Sometimes his race got him in some awkward situations.
Then, he remembered Bulma and Yamcha's ordeal. Yamcha was gone right now, at his 'mother's' house. Bulma was going alone so far. If, before Sunday, the day after the next, he could force Bulma to go with him, he would be fine. They wouldn't have to talk or consort with each other, just as long as they were 'dates'.
"I can make her be my date." He said. "First, verbally. If I'm not taken seriously, I may resort to violence." He got up and wiped sweat off his head. Then he applied deodorant. This was not the kind of thing you did with B.O. He left his shirt off, thinking a little sex appeal would work, too. Saiyans didn't care for the display of muscles, but he knew humans did by the way Bulma looked at him sometimes.
Bulma was washing dishes and thinking about the party. After this she was going to buy her cocktail dress. Bulma was whistling a tune. "Tein isn't going with anyone." She said. "He'll be all alone. But hey, he's really ugly. I don't think I'd ever live it down." She jammed her hands back in the soapy water when she heard, 'Get your hands out of that water for a moment, Earth woman."
Bulma turned around with terror. There was only one reason Vegeta would come seeking her for conversation. If she had done something he didn't approve of. "W-What is it?" Bulma asked Vegeta. He stared at her. She stared right back into his cold eyes.
"I have a proposition." Vegeta said. "A proposition that if you don't agree with, could land you in a bad position." Vegeta stepped closer. "Yes.?" Bulma asked. "Did I do something wrong?" Vegeta smirked. "Not yet." He said. Bulma was confused.
"As you know, I am a Saiyan with different customs than you. One of them happens to be that, when any formal party is happening, I must have a date. I am asking you to be that date, so that I won't be abandoning my customs." He raised an eyebrow and stared, waiting for a reply. First, Bulma laughed.
"NO!" She said. "You must be crazy!" She said. "You're mean, ruthless and you like to hurt my boyfriend! Boyfriend! That's another thing! He would kill me, he would-" Vegeta stepped closer. He looked angry. "Do you wanna rephrase that statement?" He asked. "You're ugly. This has nothing to do with appearance. I also detest you. I won't talk or consort with you through the whole thing." Bulma nodded. "Well, if you won't talk or consort with me.." She thought.
"Okay." She said. "Fine, Vegeta. Only because you scared me into it." Bulma noticed something. Vegeta smelled very nice, not the usual manly sweaty smell. "Now go away." But he was already gone.
Bulma was walking around in Fred Seagull. She had 3 dresses in her hands; a red one, a black one, and a pink one. They were all very short, but she was putting the red and black one back. The pink one was perfect. It was low cut with skinny little spaghetti straps. It came with pink platform shoes and a handbag. It was priced at $215.50 (Hey, this is Fred Seagull we're talking about!) But that was a small price to pay for beauty. Sunday before the party she was gonna go get her hair and makeup done. But for right now, it was just the dress.
Why am I making myself up anyway?" Bulma asked herself. "I'm going with VEGETA. I can't believe it! The @$$hole! I'm so terrified of him I had to.. Screw his Saiyan customs!" She said that rather loud and many people turned around to look. She found herself desperately missing Yamcha. He would have gone with her no matter what, he didn't scare her, and she wasn't embarrassed or scared to be seen with him. Though he was quite poor, he was handsome and Bulma loved him.
Bulma paid for her dress and walked out of Fred Seagull.
"What does she want now?" Vegeta grumbled. Bulma was knocking at his door and calling his name. "WHAT?" He asked. "I'm busy!" Bulma sounded joyous. "Your making me be your date for the party, so you have to come see the dress I'll be wearing." Vegeta snorted. "I don't have to do anything, and I don't want to see your dress! Now go away, stupid wench!"
Bulma was stung by the comment. "Come see, or I won't go with you." Vegeta sighed. She was stubborn, and like him in many ways. An ordinary woman would have turned her tail and ran by now. "FINE!" Vegeta snarled, and stepped out.
"Hurry, and go put that dress on!" He said. "Now!" He sat down on the couch and stared at the TV while he waited. "I don't know why I'm sitting here." He said to himself. Was it because he was curious, or was it because he knew she was beautiful and wanted to know what a cocktail dress would bring out in her flawless features? He shook the thoughts from his head.
Vegeta was all tense as the door of Bulma's room creaked open. He wasn't sure about what he was going to see, and-what he did see was heavenly. Bulma was wearing a tight, short dress that set off all her curves. It was low cut and had a slit down one side. She had on shoes that showed off the shapeliness of her legs. All Vegeta could do was stare. Suddenly he wanted to jump up and take Bulma right in the middle of the floor. She looked that hot. But he struggled to screw up his features.
"You look." He said. He forced himself not to let the word 'beautiful' escape his lips. "You look slummy." Bulma smirked. "I know a horny man when I see it." She said quietly. "What was that?" Vegeta asked. He'd heard her. He was just pretending like he hadn't so he wouldn't be embarrassed. "Nothing." Said Bulma. She walked past him to go admire herself in the mirror, and Vegeta stared at her rear.
"How will I live this down?" He asked himself. "The woman looks like.like THAT and I have to go to the party with her!" His cheeks were still red and burning. He figured he'd better go to his room before Bulma walked out again.
"Hello, Mrs. Breifs!" Said the hair stylist. "Nice to see you again! What's the occasion this time?" Bulma sat her purse down on the table. "I'm having a party at my house tomorrow." She said. "I don't want you to do my make-up yet. Today I just want my hair done; I'm coming back tomorrow."
The hair stylist nodded. "Sure, hon. how do you want it?" Bulma thought. She looked at her Afro-doo in the mirror. (I know that in the show, Bulma still has her afro when Vegeta's GR blows up, but in this story I want her to cut it a little earlier because I hate that doo). "I think I want it straight." She said. "A little longer than shoulder length, please." The stylist nodded. "It was only 6 months ago we put that perm in. U sure?" Bulma nodded. "Yes." Then she leaned back and let the stylist go at her work.
Vegeta sat in the kitchen, watching through the lab window. The bots were working on his GR. "I can't wait until it's done." He said. Then he thought about the dress again. If people had the power to snap mental pics, he would have snapped one then. It was a keeper. He knew she'd gone to get her hair done today.
"Stupid wench'll probably screw up her appearance with her new hair style." He was snickering at this when the phone rang. Vegeta didn't answer phones. He was afraid he would get the sickening earthling germs on his perfect composure. He knew they had some kind of machine that would record messages, so he waited for it to pick up. When it did, he recognized the voice at once.
It was the loser. The Wench's boyfriend. "Hello, Bulma?" The machine said. "It's Yamcha. You there? Well, call me later! Love ya!" Vegeta almost threw up at the mushy 'love ya' at the end. How Bulma could stand that man telling her that, Vegeta never knew. Matter of fact, how ANYONE could stand hearing those words remained a mystery to Vegeta's mind.
Bulma liked her new hairstyle. She was glad that she didn't have her Afro anymore. "Maybe Vegeta will like this better with my dress." She said. "Not that his opinion matters, anyhow." It was straight and down just past her shoulders. It smelled like flowers from the shampoo treatment. Then, she walked home.
Vegeta was sitting in his room, having just finished a bout of 1,100 sit ups, and was listening to the hum of the bots in the lab, working on his GR. "Bulma said they have 2 more days of work left." Vegeta said. "I'm so exited about my GR!" He was acting like a kid, but only because no one was around. He was about to say some more stuff to himself when he heard the front door.
"The woman." He said. He listened. "VEGETA!" He heard. "I've got a surprise for you!" He rolled his eyes and responded, 'I know you got a haircut, woman! And an ugly haircut on an even uglier woman doesn't count as a surprise in my book!" He heard Bulma's pause and knew his comment had cut her deep. But he took pleasure in this.
"Come out and see!" Bulma said. "Or I won't be your date!" Vegeta sighed and rolled his eyes. "If I wasn't so devoted to my customs, I would tell that woman to screw off." He said, and got up. His stomach muscles felt very stringy, but he ignored it and walked out. He looked at Bulma.
In truth, Vegeta thought the haircut was a vast improvement from her afro hair-doo from before. The long hair helped highlight her high cheekbones. "What do you think?" She asked. Vegeta laughed. "I think you look like a banshee." Bulma's mouth went into an O. "Why, you B*stard!" She said. "I think you look like a Radish-head! (Courtesy of Reviewer Nikki for the insult, even though she doesn't like it. Sorry, Nikki!)" Vegeta snorted. "Do you want me to shoot another ki blast at you? This time, I won't miss, and I don't mind taking a woman who's singed to the party!"
Bulma drew back. She knew this wasn't an empty threat, because he'd tried to kill her before. She had to walk on her tiptoes around a subject like this. "Fine, I get it. You don't like it. Of course, I knew nothing could please you, so why did I try?" She walked the other way, mumbling something. "OH!" Vegeta said. "Woman! Your loser called for you today." Then Vegeta turned around and headed toward his room. "I am not a Radish- head!" He growled under his breath. "My hair looks nothing like a radish."
"Guess what, Yamcha!" Bulma said. "I found a date for the party!" Yamcha grunted. "A date? I thought you were going alone! Are you cheating on me? Are you breaking up with me? NOOO." Bulma shook her head. Yamcha was too possessive sometimes. "No, Yamcha." She said. "I'm not breaking up with you. I'm not cheating on you. I just didn't want to go all by myself, and someone asked me to go with them."
"WHO?" Yamcha asked. He sounded frantic. "Vegeta asked me. Well, TOLD me actually." "WHAT?" Yamcha asked. "HIM? I don't want you going with him! He's too mean and fickle! Remember he tried to kill us both!" Bulma nodded. "I know, I know. But it was something about one of his Saiyan customs or something like that." Yamcha seemed to calm down. "Okay." He said. "I hope your dress is decent."
"What do you consider decent?" Bulma asked. "The dress has to be down to your knees!" Yamcha replied. "I mean, if WE were going, I wouldn't mind it short, but since your going with someone else." He trailed off. This made Bulma mad that he seemed to think he could control what she wore. "Alright." She said, annoyed. "Fine." She was planning on wearing the dress, anyway.
"Goodnight." Yamcha said. "Love ya." Bulma replied and slammed down the phone. He was just too controlling sometimes.
It was the morning before the party. Bulma was telling the caterers where to put the food and the decorators where to tie the ribbons. "Why can't you doughfaces put anything in the right places by yourselves! I've got to go get my makeup done!" She kicked one guy in the butt once or twice, and one guy kept falling off the ladder with each wholesome screech of Bulma's voice. "Can you quit it, you banshee!" He hollered. Bulma hollered right back. She couldn't believe Vegeta was just sitting on the couch 2 yards away while she slaved.
*This woman is unlike any other woman I've ever met before. * Vegeta thought. *Her attitude-she takes no crap from anyone. * Then he thought about the look of Bulma in her dress, and part of him couldn't help wondering what she would look like in it with her hair and make-up done. And then there were these people-Caterers, Bulma called them-who were bringing the food and decorations in. They were loud, and it was hard for Vegeta to hear the movie he was watching, Sleepless in Seattle.
"WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP?!" Vegeta roared. "You keep talking in your Yankee voices (No offense to any Yankees out there. The NY Yankees are one of my favorites) and dropping those glass dishes with your Butterfingers! You're doing more harm than help! If you wanna be paid, I suggest you stop it before I singe your *sses!" All the caterers and decorators looked at Vegeta. "Singe us?" One particularly big one said. "How would you do that? Do you wanna fight me, Mr. Scronny?" Vegeta stood up and shot a ki blast at the man. The man ducked, but not fast enough. It carried his hat straight off his head and burned all his hair off. The man screamed and ran out the door.
"Vegeta!" Bulma scolded. "No singing people in this house!" Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me what to do, wench. Go about your business." Bulma shook her head. "I cannot. I have to stay here and make sure these retards don't do everything wrong. Mind your own business." Vegeta turned his head around fast. "Watch the way you speak to me, unless you want a ki blast to collide with your ugly face." Bulma mocked Vegeta's words. "I get it. You say these things only to scare me." Vegeta growled.
"I do not!" Then he stood up. "Do you want another round of ki blast?" Bulma shook her head, trembling. The caterers were staring. "What are you guys looking at?" Vegeta asked them. "You guys want some of this?" He powered up a ki blast. They went about they're business.
Bulma had finally gotten away for her make-up appointment. She was running late, and after the appointment, she had to hurry up and begin running home. "I wish I'd taken the car!" She said. "Even if I do only live 3 blocks away!" It was hard to run in these particular shoes, and She would still have to put on her dress when she got home.
The caterers had done a very nice job, actually, but probably only because they had a mass murderer in the house with them and one of their colleagues had an encounter with him. One of the caterers couldn't keep his eyes off Bulma's chest, but she'd managed not to face him head on all day.
As Bulma reached her home, she grumbled, as she had to scoot some broken glass from a casserole dish out of her walking path. Many dishes with food in them had gotten broken, and her puppy ate the food. The glass remained prettily glittering in the sun for all to step on, and she reminded herself to get that cleaned up.
The inside of the house smelled like citrus orange, and looked even better. The cabinets were scoured clean of bacteria, the ceiling and fan were dust-free, and the whole house was decorated with streamers of pink and gold. She'd hired some butlers for the night, which would be here any minute, and bought about 50 bottles of wine to accommodate Tein's heavy drinking problems. There was sparkling juice for those who didn't drink (Gohan and some adults) and all kinds of food imaginable. Even a bounce house in the back yard, again mainly for Gohan. Now, she had to go and put on her dress.
Vegeta heard the front door close, and halted in his push-ups. He had only gotten to 3,400. "Is it that close to party time already?" He asked himself. "Stupid Saiyan customs." He babbled among this subject for a while, lying in the floor on his belly. "I wish I could go with a Saiyan female." Vegeta said. They're attractive and not embarrassing to be seen with." Then he realized something. Their attitudes were a lot like that of Bulma's.
Vegeta forced himself to shake the thought out of his head as he heard a somewhat familiar sound of chimes. The doorbell. "Oh no." Vegeta said. "The first guest is here." He stood up, swiped antiperspirant underneath his arms, and opened the door. The smell of oranges greeted his nose, and he liked the smell. It was very pleasant. There were streamers of pink and gold decorating the ceiling, and everything was a shining, shimmering clean. He listened for the voice of the guest, to see if he could identify them, and was pleased to realize that it was only the butlers. That meant that it was time for the party to start, and he'd better go on down.
The end of this chapter! Sorry nothing much happened, because this was kind of a prep chapter for the big party! Some sparks are flying in the next chapter!!
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ
Bulma was playing with her new puppy the next day. She hadn't talked to Vegeta since yesterday, when he brought it to her. He was acting weird, like he was embarrassed about it. But at least she wouldn't wail at him anymore. "I wonder why he was gone so long if he was just looking for a puppy?" Bulma wondered. She was waiting for Yamcha to call her back. He said he was busy when she called him just about 30 minutes ago. There had been a female voice in the background.
"Who was that?" Bulma had asked. "It was my mother," Yamcha had said, "Who did you think it was?" But Bulma had still been suspicious. Then he'd said he was busy, and he'd hung up on her. But she was getting irritated at him, anyway, so she was glad he had hung up. Bulma was about to pick up her pup and go to her room when she heard footsteps. She snatched up her dog and turned her head towards the sound. It was Vegeta coming in to get some milk. "I have a surprise." Bulma said to Vegeta. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything, as if it would waste his voice.
"Well, what is it?" Vegeta asked. "Hurry it up, now. I'm hungry and need to train." Bulma frowned. "Alright, alright. Well, your GR should be done in a few days. 2 or 3, matter of fact." Vegeta hadn't noticed that she had switched the expensive metal parts with the ones that were almost plastic, so all was well. Vegeta smirked slightly. "That's good." He said thoughtfully. Then he looked at her puppy.
"Thanks for my dog." Bulma said. "Even though I know you only bought it to silence my wailing." She hugged the fuzzy dog. Vegeta looked at it someore. "Am I going to regret buying you that mutt?" He asked suddenly. "No." Bulma said. "I won't sic it on you. And you can come and pet it; it's not going to bite you." Vegeta snorted. "NO!" He said. "It's too cute and fuzzy. Too much so for me to pet." He opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a carrot stick, and walked out.
"Yamcha," Bulma said, "Goku and Chichi are having a banquet." Yamcha cleared his throat. "Oh? When do I need to rent a tux?" He asked. "You don't," Bulma said. "It's before you get back. And because you said that you can't possibly make it back early for ANY causes, I'll either have to go alone or go with someone else." Yamcha snorted like a pig. "You'll go by yourself, surely? There's no other single guys around, really." Bulma shrugged, even though Yamcha couldn't hear her. "I don't know." She said. "I could pick someone up."
Suddenly, Bulma heard the doorbell. "Sorry, honey, I have to go." Bulma said. "Somebody's here, and Vegeta won't get the door. I know he won't. See you later.' She hung up without waiting for a goodbye and rushed down the stairs. "Wait!" She called as the doorbell buzzed again. She saw the back of Vegeta's hair over the back of the couch. He was watching TV. She swung open the door. Goku and Chichi were both standing there. They let themselves in.
Bulma noticed out of the corner of her eye that Vegeta turned around. When he saw Goku his eyes widened, and then he got up and walked silently up the stairs, grumbling something the whole way.
"We have to talk to you about something important." Goku said. "We know you'll probably say no, but we can't do anything else." Bulma could tell they were really embarrassed about what they were about to say. "As you know, me and Chichi are really poor," Goku said. "Neither of us works." He trailed off again, and Chichi continued. "Well, we just realized that we can't possibly afford to have our party at the country club. And we can't cancel it, because we already sent about 50 invitations. So we were wondering if you could let us have our banquet at your house." Then, Chichi just trailed off.
"Sure!" Bulma said. "We've got plenty of room, and I love parties!" She clasped her hands. "I'm sure mom and dad and Veg-" She stopped abruptly. "Vegeta lives here too, you know." She said. "He has no where to go if he doesn't want to stay for it. I think, out of politeness, I'd better ask him if it's okay with him." Chichi's eyes grew big. "As VEGETA for permission? It's your house!" Bulma nodded. "I know, and he doesn't deserve these kind of privileges, but if we ask now, we may avoid a nasty fight later. So you two just run on home to avoid it if it gets nasty. I'll call you." Chichi nodded. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay here and watch over you?" Goku asked. Bulma nodded. "Go." They rushed out the door.
"Vegeta?" Bulma said, knocking on his door. She could hear by his grunts that he was doing push-ups. "What do you want, woman! I thought buying you that mutt would silence your quacking tongue!" Bulma laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't ask you." She said. There was a pause.
"What do you want?" Vegeta said again, starting over the conversation. "That's better." Bulma said under her breath. "I need to ask you something." She said. "WHAT?" Vegeta growled from his room. "Uhhhh.I need to ask you if it's okay that we have a party here. I thought that it's your house too, right now, and it would be loud. I wanted to know if it would be o-"
"NO!" Vegeta roared from his room. "Yes, that's all I need, Kakarott and all his nerdy friends, along with you, to be at the house I hate but have to stay in. Plus, your loser boyfriend would be here!" Bulma got mad at Vegeta's nickname for Yamcha. "No, actually he won't. Yamcha's away at his mother's house." The door suddenly creaked open. Vegeta was sweaty, shirtless, and smirking. "Yeah, I'll bet." Vegeta growled. "I bet he's screwing some blond woman right now." Bulma was outraged. "How dare you accuse my boyfriend of something like that! You have no proof!"
Vegeta nodded. "Yes, I do. I've overheard some of your phone calls. His mother supposedly dies a while ago, and you believe him when he says she's alive again?" Bulma refused to believe him. "That's none of your business! Do you care about the party?"
"Of course I care about the party!" Vegeta said. "I don't want it! You won't have it as long as I'm here!" Bulma felt tears of rage at her eyes. "I asked you to be polite!" She screamed. "I don't care what you say! I'm having the party anyway, next Sunday! And there's nothing you can do about it, Mr.!" Vegeta looked taken aback.
"Yes there is." He said in a teasing voice. "I could kill you." Bulma laughed. "You wouldn't. Your GR is almost done." Vegeta's eyes widened. "You'd better watch out once it's finished." He growled. "And if you have this party, and your loser won't be here, who will you go with?"
Bulma shook her head. "I don't know. It's none of your business anyway. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and buy a cocktail dress." She stomped out. Vegeta felt like grabbing her and arguing a little more, but decided against it. He went back in his room.
Vegeta was in his room, doing push-ups. He was thinking about the party. "I know she won't listen to me." Vegeta said. "She's too pig-headed. She's going to have the party anyway; I just know it." He laid down on the ground to rest his abs. Then, he remembered something he couldn't believe he had forgotten! One of his Saiyan customs!
Vegeta would have to go to this party. He had no where else to go. And one custom of Saiyans was that on every formal occasion, if you were over the age of 5, you had to have a date! They didn't call it a date on Planet Vegeta, but it was the same thing. It was to promote reproduction. He didn't need to promote reproduction on Earth, but he would feel bad if forced to give up his Saiyan customs. He took a deep breath. "No one to go with!" He said. "I can't just abandon my customs! I'm a Saiyan Prince; it wouldn't be right!" He punched his bed. Sometimes his race got him in some awkward situations.
Then, he remembered Bulma and Yamcha's ordeal. Yamcha was gone right now, at his 'mother's' house. Bulma was going alone so far. If, before Sunday, the day after the next, he could force Bulma to go with him, he would be fine. They wouldn't have to talk or consort with each other, just as long as they were 'dates'.
"I can make her be my date." He said. "First, verbally. If I'm not taken seriously, I may resort to violence." He got up and wiped sweat off his head. Then he applied deodorant. This was not the kind of thing you did with B.O. He left his shirt off, thinking a little sex appeal would work, too. Saiyans didn't care for the display of muscles, but he knew humans did by the way Bulma looked at him sometimes.
Bulma was washing dishes and thinking about the party. After this she was going to buy her cocktail dress. Bulma was whistling a tune. "Tein isn't going with anyone." She said. "He'll be all alone. But hey, he's really ugly. I don't think I'd ever live it down." She jammed her hands back in the soapy water when she heard, 'Get your hands out of that water for a moment, Earth woman."
Bulma turned around with terror. There was only one reason Vegeta would come seeking her for conversation. If she had done something he didn't approve of. "W-What is it?" Bulma asked Vegeta. He stared at her. She stared right back into his cold eyes.
"I have a proposition." Vegeta said. "A proposition that if you don't agree with, could land you in a bad position." Vegeta stepped closer. "Yes.?" Bulma asked. "Did I do something wrong?" Vegeta smirked. "Not yet." He said. Bulma was confused.
"As you know, I am a Saiyan with different customs than you. One of them happens to be that, when any formal party is happening, I must have a date. I am asking you to be that date, so that I won't be abandoning my customs." He raised an eyebrow and stared, waiting for a reply. First, Bulma laughed.
"NO!" She said. "You must be crazy!" She said. "You're mean, ruthless and you like to hurt my boyfriend! Boyfriend! That's another thing! He would kill me, he would-" Vegeta stepped closer. He looked angry. "Do you wanna rephrase that statement?" He asked. "You're ugly. This has nothing to do with appearance. I also detest you. I won't talk or consort with you through the whole thing." Bulma nodded. "Well, if you won't talk or consort with me.." She thought.
"Okay." She said. "Fine, Vegeta. Only because you scared me into it." Bulma noticed something. Vegeta smelled very nice, not the usual manly sweaty smell. "Now go away." But he was already gone.
Bulma was walking around in Fred Seagull. She had 3 dresses in her hands; a red one, a black one, and a pink one. They were all very short, but she was putting the red and black one back. The pink one was perfect. It was low cut with skinny little spaghetti straps. It came with pink platform shoes and a handbag. It was priced at $215.50 (Hey, this is Fred Seagull we're talking about!) But that was a small price to pay for beauty. Sunday before the party she was gonna go get her hair and makeup done. But for right now, it was just the dress.
Why am I making myself up anyway?" Bulma asked herself. "I'm going with VEGETA. I can't believe it! The @$$hole! I'm so terrified of him I had to.. Screw his Saiyan customs!" She said that rather loud and many people turned around to look. She found herself desperately missing Yamcha. He would have gone with her no matter what, he didn't scare her, and she wasn't embarrassed or scared to be seen with him. Though he was quite poor, he was handsome and Bulma loved him.
Bulma paid for her dress and walked out of Fred Seagull.
"What does she want now?" Vegeta grumbled. Bulma was knocking at his door and calling his name. "WHAT?" He asked. "I'm busy!" Bulma sounded joyous. "Your making me be your date for the party, so you have to come see the dress I'll be wearing." Vegeta snorted. "I don't have to do anything, and I don't want to see your dress! Now go away, stupid wench!"
Bulma was stung by the comment. "Come see, or I won't go with you." Vegeta sighed. She was stubborn, and like him in many ways. An ordinary woman would have turned her tail and ran by now. "FINE!" Vegeta snarled, and stepped out.
"Hurry, and go put that dress on!" He said. "Now!" He sat down on the couch and stared at the TV while he waited. "I don't know why I'm sitting here." He said to himself. Was it because he was curious, or was it because he knew she was beautiful and wanted to know what a cocktail dress would bring out in her flawless features? He shook the thoughts from his head.
Vegeta was all tense as the door of Bulma's room creaked open. He wasn't sure about what he was going to see, and-what he did see was heavenly. Bulma was wearing a tight, short dress that set off all her curves. It was low cut and had a slit down one side. She had on shoes that showed off the shapeliness of her legs. All Vegeta could do was stare. Suddenly he wanted to jump up and take Bulma right in the middle of the floor. She looked that hot. But he struggled to screw up his features.
"You look." He said. He forced himself not to let the word 'beautiful' escape his lips. "You look slummy." Bulma smirked. "I know a horny man when I see it." She said quietly. "What was that?" Vegeta asked. He'd heard her. He was just pretending like he hadn't so he wouldn't be embarrassed. "Nothing." Said Bulma. She walked past him to go admire herself in the mirror, and Vegeta stared at her rear.
"How will I live this down?" He asked himself. "The woman looks like.like THAT and I have to go to the party with her!" His cheeks were still red and burning. He figured he'd better go to his room before Bulma walked out again.
"Hello, Mrs. Breifs!" Said the hair stylist. "Nice to see you again! What's the occasion this time?" Bulma sat her purse down on the table. "I'm having a party at my house tomorrow." She said. "I don't want you to do my make-up yet. Today I just want my hair done; I'm coming back tomorrow."
The hair stylist nodded. "Sure, hon. how do you want it?" Bulma thought. She looked at her Afro-doo in the mirror. (I know that in the show, Bulma still has her afro when Vegeta's GR blows up, but in this story I want her to cut it a little earlier because I hate that doo). "I think I want it straight." She said. "A little longer than shoulder length, please." The stylist nodded. "It was only 6 months ago we put that perm in. U sure?" Bulma nodded. "Yes." Then she leaned back and let the stylist go at her work.
Vegeta sat in the kitchen, watching through the lab window. The bots were working on his GR. "I can't wait until it's done." He said. Then he thought about the dress again. If people had the power to snap mental pics, he would have snapped one then. It was a keeper. He knew she'd gone to get her hair done today.
"Stupid wench'll probably screw up her appearance with her new hair style." He was snickering at this when the phone rang. Vegeta didn't answer phones. He was afraid he would get the sickening earthling germs on his perfect composure. He knew they had some kind of machine that would record messages, so he waited for it to pick up. When it did, he recognized the voice at once.
It was the loser. The Wench's boyfriend. "Hello, Bulma?" The machine said. "It's Yamcha. You there? Well, call me later! Love ya!" Vegeta almost threw up at the mushy 'love ya' at the end. How Bulma could stand that man telling her that, Vegeta never knew. Matter of fact, how ANYONE could stand hearing those words remained a mystery to Vegeta's mind.
Bulma liked her new hairstyle. She was glad that she didn't have her Afro anymore. "Maybe Vegeta will like this better with my dress." She said. "Not that his opinion matters, anyhow." It was straight and down just past her shoulders. It smelled like flowers from the shampoo treatment. Then, she walked home.
Vegeta was sitting in his room, having just finished a bout of 1,100 sit ups, and was listening to the hum of the bots in the lab, working on his GR. "Bulma said they have 2 more days of work left." Vegeta said. "I'm so exited about my GR!" He was acting like a kid, but only because no one was around. He was about to say some more stuff to himself when he heard the front door.
"The woman." He said. He listened. "VEGETA!" He heard. "I've got a surprise for you!" He rolled his eyes and responded, 'I know you got a haircut, woman! And an ugly haircut on an even uglier woman doesn't count as a surprise in my book!" He heard Bulma's pause and knew his comment had cut her deep. But he took pleasure in this.
"Come out and see!" Bulma said. "Or I won't be your date!" Vegeta sighed and rolled his eyes. "If I wasn't so devoted to my customs, I would tell that woman to screw off." He said, and got up. His stomach muscles felt very stringy, but he ignored it and walked out. He looked at Bulma.
In truth, Vegeta thought the haircut was a vast improvement from her afro hair-doo from before. The long hair helped highlight her high cheekbones. "What do you think?" She asked. Vegeta laughed. "I think you look like a banshee." Bulma's mouth went into an O. "Why, you B*stard!" She said. "I think you look like a Radish-head! (Courtesy of Reviewer Nikki for the insult, even though she doesn't like it. Sorry, Nikki!)" Vegeta snorted. "Do you want me to shoot another ki blast at you? This time, I won't miss, and I don't mind taking a woman who's singed to the party!"
Bulma drew back. She knew this wasn't an empty threat, because he'd tried to kill her before. She had to walk on her tiptoes around a subject like this. "Fine, I get it. You don't like it. Of course, I knew nothing could please you, so why did I try?" She walked the other way, mumbling something. "OH!" Vegeta said. "Woman! Your loser called for you today." Then Vegeta turned around and headed toward his room. "I am not a Radish- head!" He growled under his breath. "My hair looks nothing like a radish."
"Guess what, Yamcha!" Bulma said. "I found a date for the party!" Yamcha grunted. "A date? I thought you were going alone! Are you cheating on me? Are you breaking up with me? NOOO." Bulma shook her head. Yamcha was too possessive sometimes. "No, Yamcha." She said. "I'm not breaking up with you. I'm not cheating on you. I just didn't want to go all by myself, and someone asked me to go with them."
"WHO?" Yamcha asked. He sounded frantic. "Vegeta asked me. Well, TOLD me actually." "WHAT?" Yamcha asked. "HIM? I don't want you going with him! He's too mean and fickle! Remember he tried to kill us both!" Bulma nodded. "I know, I know. But it was something about one of his Saiyan customs or something like that." Yamcha seemed to calm down. "Okay." He said. "I hope your dress is decent."
"What do you consider decent?" Bulma asked. "The dress has to be down to your knees!" Yamcha replied. "I mean, if WE were going, I wouldn't mind it short, but since your going with someone else." He trailed off. This made Bulma mad that he seemed to think he could control what she wore. "Alright." She said, annoyed. "Fine." She was planning on wearing the dress, anyway.
"Goodnight." Yamcha said. "Love ya." Bulma replied and slammed down the phone. He was just too controlling sometimes.
It was the morning before the party. Bulma was telling the caterers where to put the food and the decorators where to tie the ribbons. "Why can't you doughfaces put anything in the right places by yourselves! I've got to go get my makeup done!" She kicked one guy in the butt once or twice, and one guy kept falling off the ladder with each wholesome screech of Bulma's voice. "Can you quit it, you banshee!" He hollered. Bulma hollered right back. She couldn't believe Vegeta was just sitting on the couch 2 yards away while she slaved.
*This woman is unlike any other woman I've ever met before. * Vegeta thought. *Her attitude-she takes no crap from anyone. * Then he thought about the look of Bulma in her dress, and part of him couldn't help wondering what she would look like in it with her hair and make-up done. And then there were these people-Caterers, Bulma called them-who were bringing the food and decorations in. They were loud, and it was hard for Vegeta to hear the movie he was watching, Sleepless in Seattle.
"WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP?!" Vegeta roared. "You keep talking in your Yankee voices (No offense to any Yankees out there. The NY Yankees are one of my favorites) and dropping those glass dishes with your Butterfingers! You're doing more harm than help! If you wanna be paid, I suggest you stop it before I singe your *sses!" All the caterers and decorators looked at Vegeta. "Singe us?" One particularly big one said. "How would you do that? Do you wanna fight me, Mr. Scronny?" Vegeta stood up and shot a ki blast at the man. The man ducked, but not fast enough. It carried his hat straight off his head and burned all his hair off. The man screamed and ran out the door.
"Vegeta!" Bulma scolded. "No singing people in this house!" Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me what to do, wench. Go about your business." Bulma shook her head. "I cannot. I have to stay here and make sure these retards don't do everything wrong. Mind your own business." Vegeta turned his head around fast. "Watch the way you speak to me, unless you want a ki blast to collide with your ugly face." Bulma mocked Vegeta's words. "I get it. You say these things only to scare me." Vegeta growled.
"I do not!" Then he stood up. "Do you want another round of ki blast?" Bulma shook her head, trembling. The caterers were staring. "What are you guys looking at?" Vegeta asked them. "You guys want some of this?" He powered up a ki blast. They went about they're business.
Bulma had finally gotten away for her make-up appointment. She was running late, and after the appointment, she had to hurry up and begin running home. "I wish I'd taken the car!" She said. "Even if I do only live 3 blocks away!" It was hard to run in these particular shoes, and She would still have to put on her dress when she got home.
The caterers had done a very nice job, actually, but probably only because they had a mass murderer in the house with them and one of their colleagues had an encounter with him. One of the caterers couldn't keep his eyes off Bulma's chest, but she'd managed not to face him head on all day.
As Bulma reached her home, she grumbled, as she had to scoot some broken glass from a casserole dish out of her walking path. Many dishes with food in them had gotten broken, and her puppy ate the food. The glass remained prettily glittering in the sun for all to step on, and she reminded herself to get that cleaned up.
The inside of the house smelled like citrus orange, and looked even better. The cabinets were scoured clean of bacteria, the ceiling and fan were dust-free, and the whole house was decorated with streamers of pink and gold. She'd hired some butlers for the night, which would be here any minute, and bought about 50 bottles of wine to accommodate Tein's heavy drinking problems. There was sparkling juice for those who didn't drink (Gohan and some adults) and all kinds of food imaginable. Even a bounce house in the back yard, again mainly for Gohan. Now, she had to go and put on her dress.
Vegeta heard the front door close, and halted in his push-ups. He had only gotten to 3,400. "Is it that close to party time already?" He asked himself. "Stupid Saiyan customs." He babbled among this subject for a while, lying in the floor on his belly. "I wish I could go with a Saiyan female." Vegeta said. They're attractive and not embarrassing to be seen with." Then he realized something. Their attitudes were a lot like that of Bulma's.
Vegeta forced himself to shake the thought out of his head as he heard a somewhat familiar sound of chimes. The doorbell. "Oh no." Vegeta said. "The first guest is here." He stood up, swiped antiperspirant underneath his arms, and opened the door. The smell of oranges greeted his nose, and he liked the smell. It was very pleasant. There were streamers of pink and gold decorating the ceiling, and everything was a shining, shimmering clean. He listened for the voice of the guest, to see if he could identify them, and was pleased to realize that it was only the butlers. That meant that it was time for the party to start, and he'd better go on down.
The end of this chapter! Sorry nothing much happened, because this was kind of a prep chapter for the big party! Some sparks are flying in the next chapter!!