Last time:
"Really!" she all but squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so completely addicted to bowling!"
"Me too," he said quietly, his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, thinking that he'd never been happier.
****************************************************
Every time Vegeta pulled her a little bit closer, a small shiver ran up Bulma's spine, pricking the back of her neck. They'd been done with dinner for about an hour and had been dancing since, though most songs were fast paced and gave Bulma ample opportunity to snake out of his grasp. When slow songs would come on, she would excuse herself quickly and dash to the bar for a drink, usually water, then "conveniently" come back when another faster song came on.
But now, pressed so close to him, she couldn't exactly remember why she wanted to stay so far away in the first place. He hadn't been short, or snotty, or any of the personality traits he'd shown her over the weekend, thus sending her into a swirling tornado of confusion. She'd been immensely attracted to him before, but then he'd been so callous and rude, but now…now she couldn't exactly put her feelings for him in any certain place. He was unpredictable, and therefore she couldn't make any assumptions about him just yet.
As the song came crawling to a close, and Vegeta still didn't release her as all the other couples had, Bulma felt her heart flutter and her pulse quicken. What did he have in store for her? Was this what he actually wanted? To be close to her? Or was it some game? Some ridiculous joke that she'd be the butt of sooner or later? She decided that if that was the case, then she could at least say that she met her favorite band and went on a date with the most famous member. She figured it wasn't a total loss. Besides, the others were nothing like Vegeta. She'd be more than thrilled if she could keep in touch with any of them.
"Vegeta," Bulma finally whispered as the next song, one with a rather fast beat, came on. "The song's over."
Reluctantly he moved away, brushing his fingertips along her stomach, almost causing her knees to buckle. What was it about him that was so unbelievably irresistible? And it was then that she noticed all the eyes in the club seemed to be on her and Vegeta, and when she turned her head sharply to confirm her suspicions, everyone else's heads quickly turned as well.
"Everyone's staring at us," she said as they walked off the dance floor and toward the bar.
"Get used to it," Vegeta replied with a throaty grumble, beckoning the bartender with his finger. "Scotch neat and a bourbon."
"You remembered," she half-laughed. She slid onto the barstool next to him and gently tugged at her dress, though it covered well more than she could live with for a night. Only nervous gestures that Vegeta was utterly oblivious to. "It's warm in here."
"We can go outside if you want."
"Outside?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm not going out there if there's still a swarm of journalists."
"No. Not where any of those morons can find us." And before she knew it, he had her by the hand and was pulling her toward a door marked "Roof Entrance—Employees Only".
"The roof? Vegeta—" But they were already through the door and climbing the stairs, her four inch heels giving her more than enough trouble to be considered a pain in the ass.
"You know," Bulma sighed, as she sat on one of the many stone benches that were scattered around the rooftop; along with potted plants, a water-feature, and a spectacular view of the entire city. "I don't really know that much about you. Other than you can be very irritating sometimes…Well, most of the time." Her words her slightly slurred and, as she lifted her bourbon to her lips and took a small ladylike sip, Vegeta realized she was thoroughly intoxicated, a fact that sent an immediate frown to his features. She was completely untouchable for the rest of the night. He cursed himself for not stopping her at four drinks.
"What do you want to know?" he asked dully, looping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her an inch or so closer. If he was going to succeed with this date, he was going to have to dig rather deep and watch his sharp tongue. The last thing he needed was Jun or 18 jumping down his throat for causing another uproar.
"Why is 18 always yelling at you? What the hell are you doing that pisses her off so much?" She downed the rest of her drink then went to set the glass on the ground, only to have it slip from her fingers and shatter. She only laughed at her mishap and turned back to Vegeta, her head light and fuzzy.
"That's nothing that can tell you what you want to know."
"And what do I want to know?"
"You said you wanted to know about me. That won't explain anything," he said dryly, then took a sip of his Scotch.
"Can I have some?"
"What?"
She pointed to his glass of Scotch, though, without waiting for a response, snatched it away and gulped the remaining liquid. And as before, she let the glass drop out of her hand and it crashed to the ground right where her own had.
"I don't want to have to hold your hair while you puke," he murmured, shaking his head. He was lucky that his other dates hadn't been this open with him to drink themselves silly. Most only ordered virgin drinks and kept talk to strictly after date "activities", thus bringing him to the point he hated most: the aftermath. Oh well, at least she wasn't completely concerned with impressing him. That really got under his skin. The only thing that got him through his dates was the promise of "no strings sex" and knowing that he would never see the girl again. This one, however, he was drawn to in an entirely nonsexual way, though the attraction was there too. If the opportunity arose, and she wasn't drunk, he'd have her in bed faster than she could take her clothes off. But that wasn't what he wanted right then. Right then he just wanted to—"How drunk are you, woman?"
"Don't call me—"
"Just answer me," he sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Drunk enough to not care that I'm drunk," she laughed. "But sober enough to know what I'm doing. And don't you even THINK about smoking around me. I lied before. I DESPISE smokers. Go to Hell and smoke 'til you die."
"And apparently you're drunk enough to not make sense. Kami, woman, what's all this about?"
"All what?"
"The drinking. Is that what you people do on dates?"
"What do you mean, you people?" she slurred, cocking her head to the side and giving him a nasty look, her hair falling from her forehead. Even in this state she was absolutely gorgeous.
"High school kids," he said with a wave of his hand. "I didn't do the school thing really. I wouldn't know how it is. Boring shit, I gather."
"For me, it's all boring." She shook her head and straightened her back, though subsequently moved even closer to her companion. "I'm in every college level course, the smartest kid there, and I can't find a single challenge. I work in my dad's lab to push myself, but even then…" Her words trailed off as she noticed Vegeta's intense stare. What was he thinking? "What?" she asked, tipping her head to the right.
"How drunk are you?"
"I already answered you, MAN. How drunk are YOU?"
"I'm going to kiss you now, ok?" he said nonchalantly, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "If you're going to scream like a harpy or slap me or something, tell me."
She nodded, her eyes as hazy as her mind. What had he been saying?
He leaned in and captured her lips, ignoring the strong taste of bourbon—a drink he didn't particularly like—and instead focused on the way she completely surrendered to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him as close as possible. But when his hand suddenly touched her thigh, she lurched back and stumbled to her feet.
"I'm not going to be one of your whores, Vegeta!" she spat, wiping at her mouth and nearly tripping in her heels, though managed to catch herself on the armrest of the bench. "Don't think that just because I'm a tad bit intoxicated that you can take advantage of me! I didn't sign up to be a Vegeta Ouji groupie!"
"That's not what I was doing!" he shot back, furious that she would think such a thing. Of course, the thought had crossed his mind, but he would never sink as low as to take advantage of a drunken woman. That wasn't his style at all. "And what the hell are you getting so bitchy about? You said I could kiss you, damn it!"
"Kiss me, not fondle me!" She threw her hands in the air as if she were giving up, then added, "I don't know what you thought you were getting tonight, but it isn't me!"
"Would you shut up for one Kami damned second, woman, and let me talk?"
"I believe the answer to that obvious question is NO. No, I am not going to let you glorify yourself with some ridiculous lie. Screw you!"
"This is so unbelievable. Come on, we're leaving. I can't stand to be around you another minute. I'm going to strangle your little friend for putting me through this."
"And what about 18? And your manager person?" she snarled, chasing after him, the pulse of the club music growing louder as they descended the stairs. "I heard that conversation this weekend. I know you guys planned something with me! And I want to know what it is!"
"Right woman, I'll tell you. Right away. I'll also tell you every little tid-bit of information you want to know about me." He whipped his head around and shot her an icy glare. "My favorite color is blue."
"Really? I thought it'd be pink, you little priss!"
"Shut up before you cause a damn scene. The last thing I need is you getting us bad publicity because you're too drunk to know what you're saying."
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you back. Now let's go."
***********************************************************
17 lifted Maris off the ground and twirled her around twice before setting her back down, his excitement still coursing rapidly through his veins.
"We won!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. The other two teams, Chi-Chi with Goku and Krillin with 18, only stared in mild acceptance. They could not believe that two people who didn't even like to bowl had not only scored better than them, but cleared their scores by at least 50 points each. "You guys owe us ice cream."
"I cannot believe it," 18 grumbled, holding her head in her right hand. "My dim witted brother can't catch a damn football, but this he can do. Figures."
"You're just a sore loser, 18," he shot back, grinning madly, his arm still loosely around Maris' waist, giving Krillin an immediate upset stomach. What the hell was wrong with him? Here he was with the most amazing woman in the world, one who with every new detail he found out was coming closer and closer to being his dream girl, and all he could do was get queasy when 17 got a little too close to Maris! He really needed to sort out his thoughts. In the past week he'd gone from having a steady girlfriend, to crushing on an old crush, to meeting 18 Gero and having feelings for the both of them.
"Please. I beat you in football ALL the time. You're such a pansy when it comes to contact sports. I can see why you're so good at this."
"Shove it," he hissed, though couldn't keep the smile off his face. He didn't care what she said. Right now his thoughts were completely on Maris. Well, almost completely. In the back of his mind he could not stop thinking about Bulma and how her forced date with Vegeta was going. Had they hit it off? Were they falling for each other? He hoped not. Though at the same time, he hoped they had so that Maris would be free and he could have her. But who did he really want? He didn't know…
What he also didn't know was that Maris was struggling with the exact same thoughts. She also had feelings for two different people, two completely new and completely opposite personalities. She'd come to the show expecting to still "love" 17 when she left, and never, in all her dreams, thought she'd actually meet him. And now, after sharing that passionate kiss with Vegeta, she felt her heart give in and try to go in two different directions. Well, now that she thought about it, her eyes suddenly falling on Krillin, she realized that she'd had a small crush on him since the day she found him fighting in the fountain at the mall. So now her total was up to three, and she didn't feel any less confused. She had a horrible feeling that their meeting Green Dragon would be the death of them.
And unbeknownst to her, Krillin and 17 were thinking of the exact same fate.
"So, come on, let's go get that ice cream," Maris suddenly said, bringing herself from her downer thoughts. Right now she was going to enjoy her time with her new friends.
Everyone agreed with nods and half-hearted yeses, still feeling that it was absolutely wrong that two inexperienced bowlers had beaten them, who bowl as much as they possibly can. They reached the ice cream parlor some ten minutes later, now laughing and deep in conversation about their daily lives and little jokes here and there. It was almost as if they'd all been friends for years.
"So," 17 laughed, slurping at his root beer float, "what's high school like? We've never been."
"It sucks," Maris answered quickly.
"I second that," Chi-Chi said around a mouthful of vanilla ice cream with strawberry syrup and peanut butter chips; everyone had wrinkled their noses at her choice of toppings.
"I third it," Krillin laughed. "I envy you guys that you can travel all over the world and only have to do schoolwork when you're not out having fun. It's the complete opposite for us. Work, then play."
"Oh, it's not all fun my man," said 17. "We have contracts and restrictions, so many restrictions, and tour dates, no matter how we feel we have to perform, plus all the stress Vegeta adds to our lives, what with his irresponsible headliners. And then you add schoolwork on top of all that, AND we have to pass by a certain age or our parents, and Jun, will tear us new ones." He sighed deeply and frowned at his empty glass, scraping the bottom of it with his spoon. "You have NO idea how nerve-racking it is. Some days I wish I'd never agreed to being in Green Dragon."
"Yeah," Goku agreed, though in the back of his mind he was wondering if it was right for him to grab Chi-Chi's hand under the table.
"Stupid Vegeta," 18 mumbled. "He's being such a pain in the ass right now."
"How so?" Krillin asked, though the words were on the tips of Chi-Chi and Maris' tongues too. They'd almost blurted out their secret, that they'd heard the conversation and wanted to know exactly what they'd been talking about, for nothing they said really told them anything.
"Just his liaisons with every girl he meets." She rolled her eyes and sighed, her shoulders rising and falling. It seemed she was at her wits' end with him. "He's so immature about it, too. There's this one woman, Sen, and Kami does he have us all in a rut with her. Just the other day—" Before she could get another word out 17 kicked her in the shin and gave her a look as if you say, "Don't you dare continue."
"Just the other day what?" Maris asked innocently, turning to 17, who she knew had stopped the flow of words.
"Nothing that we can tell you," 18 said, a sudden and completely unexpected contempt behind her voice. There was something about Maris that she didn't like, though would not admit that it was jealousy. She, 18 Gero, was NEVER jealous of ANYONE. Especially not no-name city girls with no class.
Maris felt her heated stare and slowly leaned back, sizing up the competition. Then, in an instant, she realized that she didn't care if 18 didn't like her or wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know. If she wanted to be short with her, then Maris could play her game, too. She wasn't one for revenge, but challenges and competitions—she lived for those. The name of the game: Love. The prize: Krillin. The battlefield: Their minds.
"Come on," she urged, giving Krillin a look that only he noticed. "Please."
"Yeah, 18," Krillin added, catching onto Maris' lifted eyebrows in a second. If she couldn't pry it out of her, then he might still have a chance. "It's not like we're going to tell anyone. We're not even telling people at school most of what happened last weekend, just that we saw the show and went backstage. We don't like other people knowing our business, we're a tight group, and we sure as hell don't tell other people's business when we're not entitled to."
"Jun would drop us all in a second if she knew what I was about to tell you."
"18!" 17 snapped, slapping his hands on the table. "As much as we need to get this stuff off our chests, we CANNOT tell anyone what's going on! What if someone here heard you and told the press! We'd all be ruined!"
"Then let's go to my house," Maris said, then added, with a small smile directed at Krillin, the first move in her self-declared war, "My parents are out of town."
18 caught the smile and almost let out an angry hiss, knowing exactly what she was up to. Fine, if she wanted to play, then so be it. She was NOT going to let her have Krillin, not when she finally found the perfect guy she'd been looking for her entire life and never thought she'd find. He was so totally different from her usual dates; smart, funny, classy, polite, instead of rude, callous, and haughty, and only thinking about getting into her pants. He was different in every way and, right then, she knew, that if she let herself, she could fall in love with him, something she promised herself she'd never do.
**********************************************************
It wasn't an easy thing to squeeze through a crowd of hundreds of people and dial a number on a cell phone at the same time, plus the added annoyance of an angry woman who barked down your throat. But, somewhere between the roof entrance and the club exit, Vegeta managed to get 18 on the line.
"Can you hear me!" he yelled over the loud music, barely catching her voice.
"Hardly! Call me back when you get outside!"
He hung up the phone in frustration and tugged on Bulma's arm.
"Let go of me," she hissed, yanking her arm free. "I already told you that I wasn't going to sleep with you. So back the hell off."
"You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"Big vocabulary for a barbarian," she snorted, the effects of the bourbon still fogging her vision and her mind, giving her a distorted view of the situation. If it had been any other time, she probably wouldn't have been so harsh on him. But alcohol really brought out her bad side.
Finally they pushed open the doors to the street, both breathing in deeply the fresh air. It was beyond stuffy in the club portion of The Lion's Den, what with all the bodies and dancing.
They were lucky to discover that all the news vans were gone, leaving only a line of cars waiting to be parked. Vegeta spotted the bus in an instant and resisted the urge to grab Bulma's wrist to get her to walk faster. He wanted to be on his way to getting as far away from her as he could.
Once inside the bus, having demanded that the driver leave IMMEDIATELY, Vegeta quickly dialed 18's cellular phone number again and barked, "Where are you?"
"Maris' house. Why?"
"Where is that?"
"Why? Is the date over already?"
"Yes, the stupid date is over. I'm bringing the woman there. Where is it?"
"What? Bringing me WHERE!" Bulma yelled, trying to pry the phone off his ear.
"Get off, woman!" he snapped, the sudden feel of her plump breasts on his back almost too much for him. "Just give me the general area. I know your car."
"How do you know we took my car?"
"Because, it's the only one that can fit all those people, now tell me!"
"Alright, alright. Sheesh." There was a pause, in which she held her hand on the speaker and asked Maris what her address was. "3435 Oolong Ave. Got that?"
"Got it."
**********************************************************
After a bit of careful persuasion, the group managed to get Bulma into the house, drink a glass of water, and stay in the kitchen until they got the story from Vegeta, who left immediately afterward. They didn't exactly believe his story, and would definitely ask Bulma about it later, when she was sobered up, of course.
Now they all sat in Maris' den, a perfectly square room painted royal blue and full of throw pillows and foot-high tables. It was her sanctuary, the only place she loved being more than the arcade or the library.
"So," Krillin began, taking a seat on a rather large velvety green pillow. He leaned on his left arm, his head tilted to the side and almost touching 18's shoulder. Maris tried to ignore their closeness and instead focused on 17, who seemed to be in a borderline panic. "What's this about Vegeta that we can't talk about in public?"
Bulma stiffened at the mention of his name, though cocked her head to the side, confused by his words. Was he talking about what she thought he was? And if so, why didn't anyone tell her about this? But right then, as the words sunk in, Goku set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, distracting her almost instantly. It was like she had A.D.D. or something when she was drunk; every little thing caught her attention. She almost fell several times walking through the club when the lights diverted her.
"It's so damn complicated," 18 sighed, running her fingers through her platinum blonde hair, wondering in the back of her mind why she felt the need to tell these people—who were basically strangers—this personal information. But she figured 17 was right; they desperately needed to get it off their chests and discuss the situation with other people besides themselves. "Where do I start?"
"Vegas," Goku cut in, picking his head up from Chi-Chi's shoulder as he spoke. He clasped her hand tightly in his lap, refusing to let it go. Not that she wanted to, though.
"Right. Vegas…Vegas, Vegas, Vegas." She glanced up at the group, nearly startled when all eyes were on her. All eyes but Bulma's, who was currently tracing the partner of a pillow in her lap. "Well," she sighed, "we were on tour in the States for a few months about…er…ten or eleven months ago. And, of course, Vegeta had to hit the casinos and clubs and cause all sorts of unnecessary trouble for us. We almost had to cancel one of our shows 'cause we couldn't find him."
"Bastard," 17 grumbled under his breath.
"I second that," 18 laughed bitterly. "Anyway, he ended up meeting this woman, Sen, at a casino and got to talking with her, well, hitting on her. And so they got drunk, or high, or something—he doesn't even know—and ended up, where else?, in bed together. But not before he completely screwed us for the rest of our careers."
"How'd'you mean?" Krillin couldn't help but ask.
"Well Sen is a very persistent person. If she wants something and can find a way to get it, no matter how cruel and heartless it is, she'll do it. In her case she wanted money, and lots of it. She was in Vegas trying to win big, though I'm not sure exactly why she didn't just play the casinos in Japan. Oh well…Anyway, she wanted money, and found the perfect way to get it."
"How?" It was Chi-Chi this time who could not keep the words from escaping her mouth.
"When they were drunk they somehow ended up in a wedding chapel."
Bulma's ears suddenly perked and she nearly dropped her coffee mug.
"They got married—" Bulma let go of her mug, her fingers slipping to grasp the pillow in her lap. "—and she won't grant him an annulment, and divorce is completely out of the question because of Vegeta's mother's religion and the fact that divorces are usually messy and would create a lot of publicity."
"That bitch," Maris snapped, her face pinching in anger. So that's what they were talking about.
"Oh, that's not all," 17 sighed, flipping his head from one side to the other.
"What else?"
"She was pregnant at the time they met, or so Vegeta says—" Bulma felt her resolve begin to bend. NO! Kami no! "—but Sen has a different story, and we believe her. We think the baby is Vegeta's…"
************************************************************
---Chapter 8!!! Woo! Can you believe it! Vegeta might be a FATHER! Ahhhh! What the hell! That's moron! Heehee! Oh, and just the little fact that he's MARRIED! Kami! Sheesh! How the hell is everything supposed to work out now! Well—heehee—you'll see ;) I have a lot of twists planned, and some that are already in motion, this was just the first. The second I have all set up and will reveal pretty soon, well, no, probably not. LOL! But I will let you know when something is a twist or not, or whatever, just review :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Hmm…I dunno, heehee!
Note: Sorry about the Vegeta/Bulma fight, but that's how I like things, heehee. I like them to be as far away as possible and then—BAM!—they end up together. Plus, slower fics are also my thing. So don't be mad, PLEASE! ^~^
"Really!" she all but squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so completely addicted to bowling!"
"Me too," he said quietly, his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, thinking that he'd never been happier.
****************************************************
Every time Vegeta pulled her a little bit closer, a small shiver ran up Bulma's spine, pricking the back of her neck. They'd been done with dinner for about an hour and had been dancing since, though most songs were fast paced and gave Bulma ample opportunity to snake out of his grasp. When slow songs would come on, she would excuse herself quickly and dash to the bar for a drink, usually water, then "conveniently" come back when another faster song came on.
But now, pressed so close to him, she couldn't exactly remember why she wanted to stay so far away in the first place. He hadn't been short, or snotty, or any of the personality traits he'd shown her over the weekend, thus sending her into a swirling tornado of confusion. She'd been immensely attracted to him before, but then he'd been so callous and rude, but now…now she couldn't exactly put her feelings for him in any certain place. He was unpredictable, and therefore she couldn't make any assumptions about him just yet.
As the song came crawling to a close, and Vegeta still didn't release her as all the other couples had, Bulma felt her heart flutter and her pulse quicken. What did he have in store for her? Was this what he actually wanted? To be close to her? Or was it some game? Some ridiculous joke that she'd be the butt of sooner or later? She decided that if that was the case, then she could at least say that she met her favorite band and went on a date with the most famous member. She figured it wasn't a total loss. Besides, the others were nothing like Vegeta. She'd be more than thrilled if she could keep in touch with any of them.
"Vegeta," Bulma finally whispered as the next song, one with a rather fast beat, came on. "The song's over."
Reluctantly he moved away, brushing his fingertips along her stomach, almost causing her knees to buckle. What was it about him that was so unbelievably irresistible? And it was then that she noticed all the eyes in the club seemed to be on her and Vegeta, and when she turned her head sharply to confirm her suspicions, everyone else's heads quickly turned as well.
"Everyone's staring at us," she said as they walked off the dance floor and toward the bar.
"Get used to it," Vegeta replied with a throaty grumble, beckoning the bartender with his finger. "Scotch neat and a bourbon."
"You remembered," she half-laughed. She slid onto the barstool next to him and gently tugged at her dress, though it covered well more than she could live with for a night. Only nervous gestures that Vegeta was utterly oblivious to. "It's warm in here."
"We can go outside if you want."
"Outside?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm not going out there if there's still a swarm of journalists."
"No. Not where any of those morons can find us." And before she knew it, he had her by the hand and was pulling her toward a door marked "Roof Entrance—Employees Only".
"The roof? Vegeta—" But they were already through the door and climbing the stairs, her four inch heels giving her more than enough trouble to be considered a pain in the ass.
"You know," Bulma sighed, as she sat on one of the many stone benches that were scattered around the rooftop; along with potted plants, a water-feature, and a spectacular view of the entire city. "I don't really know that much about you. Other than you can be very irritating sometimes…Well, most of the time." Her words her slightly slurred and, as she lifted her bourbon to her lips and took a small ladylike sip, Vegeta realized she was thoroughly intoxicated, a fact that sent an immediate frown to his features. She was completely untouchable for the rest of the night. He cursed himself for not stopping her at four drinks.
"What do you want to know?" he asked dully, looping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her an inch or so closer. If he was going to succeed with this date, he was going to have to dig rather deep and watch his sharp tongue. The last thing he needed was Jun or 18 jumping down his throat for causing another uproar.
"Why is 18 always yelling at you? What the hell are you doing that pisses her off so much?" She downed the rest of her drink then went to set the glass on the ground, only to have it slip from her fingers and shatter. She only laughed at her mishap and turned back to Vegeta, her head light and fuzzy.
"That's nothing that can tell you what you want to know."
"And what do I want to know?"
"You said you wanted to know about me. That won't explain anything," he said dryly, then took a sip of his Scotch.
"Can I have some?"
"What?"
She pointed to his glass of Scotch, though, without waiting for a response, snatched it away and gulped the remaining liquid. And as before, she let the glass drop out of her hand and it crashed to the ground right where her own had.
"I don't want to have to hold your hair while you puke," he murmured, shaking his head. He was lucky that his other dates hadn't been this open with him to drink themselves silly. Most only ordered virgin drinks and kept talk to strictly after date "activities", thus bringing him to the point he hated most: the aftermath. Oh well, at least she wasn't completely concerned with impressing him. That really got under his skin. The only thing that got him through his dates was the promise of "no strings sex" and knowing that he would never see the girl again. This one, however, he was drawn to in an entirely nonsexual way, though the attraction was there too. If the opportunity arose, and she wasn't drunk, he'd have her in bed faster than she could take her clothes off. But that wasn't what he wanted right then. Right then he just wanted to—"How drunk are you, woman?"
"Don't call me—"
"Just answer me," he sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Drunk enough to not care that I'm drunk," she laughed. "But sober enough to know what I'm doing. And don't you even THINK about smoking around me. I lied before. I DESPISE smokers. Go to Hell and smoke 'til you die."
"And apparently you're drunk enough to not make sense. Kami, woman, what's all this about?"
"All what?"
"The drinking. Is that what you people do on dates?"
"What do you mean, you people?" she slurred, cocking her head to the side and giving him a nasty look, her hair falling from her forehead. Even in this state she was absolutely gorgeous.
"High school kids," he said with a wave of his hand. "I didn't do the school thing really. I wouldn't know how it is. Boring shit, I gather."
"For me, it's all boring." She shook her head and straightened her back, though subsequently moved even closer to her companion. "I'm in every college level course, the smartest kid there, and I can't find a single challenge. I work in my dad's lab to push myself, but even then…" Her words trailed off as she noticed Vegeta's intense stare. What was he thinking? "What?" she asked, tipping her head to the right.
"How drunk are you?"
"I already answered you, MAN. How drunk are YOU?"
"I'm going to kiss you now, ok?" he said nonchalantly, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "If you're going to scream like a harpy or slap me or something, tell me."
She nodded, her eyes as hazy as her mind. What had he been saying?
He leaned in and captured her lips, ignoring the strong taste of bourbon—a drink he didn't particularly like—and instead focused on the way she completely surrendered to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him as close as possible. But when his hand suddenly touched her thigh, she lurched back and stumbled to her feet.
"I'm not going to be one of your whores, Vegeta!" she spat, wiping at her mouth and nearly tripping in her heels, though managed to catch herself on the armrest of the bench. "Don't think that just because I'm a tad bit intoxicated that you can take advantage of me! I didn't sign up to be a Vegeta Ouji groupie!"
"That's not what I was doing!" he shot back, furious that she would think such a thing. Of course, the thought had crossed his mind, but he would never sink as low as to take advantage of a drunken woman. That wasn't his style at all. "And what the hell are you getting so bitchy about? You said I could kiss you, damn it!"
"Kiss me, not fondle me!" She threw her hands in the air as if she were giving up, then added, "I don't know what you thought you were getting tonight, but it isn't me!"
"Would you shut up for one Kami damned second, woman, and let me talk?"
"I believe the answer to that obvious question is NO. No, I am not going to let you glorify yourself with some ridiculous lie. Screw you!"
"This is so unbelievable. Come on, we're leaving. I can't stand to be around you another minute. I'm going to strangle your little friend for putting me through this."
"And what about 18? And your manager person?" she snarled, chasing after him, the pulse of the club music growing louder as they descended the stairs. "I heard that conversation this weekend. I know you guys planned something with me! And I want to know what it is!"
"Right woman, I'll tell you. Right away. I'll also tell you every little tid-bit of information you want to know about me." He whipped his head around and shot her an icy glare. "My favorite color is blue."
"Really? I thought it'd be pink, you little priss!"
"Shut up before you cause a damn scene. The last thing I need is you getting us bad publicity because you're too drunk to know what you're saying."
"Fuck you."
"Fuck you back. Now let's go."
***********************************************************
17 lifted Maris off the ground and twirled her around twice before setting her back down, his excitement still coursing rapidly through his veins.
"We won!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. The other two teams, Chi-Chi with Goku and Krillin with 18, only stared in mild acceptance. They could not believe that two people who didn't even like to bowl had not only scored better than them, but cleared their scores by at least 50 points each. "You guys owe us ice cream."
"I cannot believe it," 18 grumbled, holding her head in her right hand. "My dim witted brother can't catch a damn football, but this he can do. Figures."
"You're just a sore loser, 18," he shot back, grinning madly, his arm still loosely around Maris' waist, giving Krillin an immediate upset stomach. What the hell was wrong with him? Here he was with the most amazing woman in the world, one who with every new detail he found out was coming closer and closer to being his dream girl, and all he could do was get queasy when 17 got a little too close to Maris! He really needed to sort out his thoughts. In the past week he'd gone from having a steady girlfriend, to crushing on an old crush, to meeting 18 Gero and having feelings for the both of them.
"Please. I beat you in football ALL the time. You're such a pansy when it comes to contact sports. I can see why you're so good at this."
"Shove it," he hissed, though couldn't keep the smile off his face. He didn't care what she said. Right now his thoughts were completely on Maris. Well, almost completely. In the back of his mind he could not stop thinking about Bulma and how her forced date with Vegeta was going. Had they hit it off? Were they falling for each other? He hoped not. Though at the same time, he hoped they had so that Maris would be free and he could have her. But who did he really want? He didn't know…
What he also didn't know was that Maris was struggling with the exact same thoughts. She also had feelings for two different people, two completely new and completely opposite personalities. She'd come to the show expecting to still "love" 17 when she left, and never, in all her dreams, thought she'd actually meet him. And now, after sharing that passionate kiss with Vegeta, she felt her heart give in and try to go in two different directions. Well, now that she thought about it, her eyes suddenly falling on Krillin, she realized that she'd had a small crush on him since the day she found him fighting in the fountain at the mall. So now her total was up to three, and she didn't feel any less confused. She had a horrible feeling that their meeting Green Dragon would be the death of them.
And unbeknownst to her, Krillin and 17 were thinking of the exact same fate.
"So, come on, let's go get that ice cream," Maris suddenly said, bringing herself from her downer thoughts. Right now she was going to enjoy her time with her new friends.
Everyone agreed with nods and half-hearted yeses, still feeling that it was absolutely wrong that two inexperienced bowlers had beaten them, who bowl as much as they possibly can. They reached the ice cream parlor some ten minutes later, now laughing and deep in conversation about their daily lives and little jokes here and there. It was almost as if they'd all been friends for years.
"So," 17 laughed, slurping at his root beer float, "what's high school like? We've never been."
"It sucks," Maris answered quickly.
"I second that," Chi-Chi said around a mouthful of vanilla ice cream with strawberry syrup and peanut butter chips; everyone had wrinkled their noses at her choice of toppings.
"I third it," Krillin laughed. "I envy you guys that you can travel all over the world and only have to do schoolwork when you're not out having fun. It's the complete opposite for us. Work, then play."
"Oh, it's not all fun my man," said 17. "We have contracts and restrictions, so many restrictions, and tour dates, no matter how we feel we have to perform, plus all the stress Vegeta adds to our lives, what with his irresponsible headliners. And then you add schoolwork on top of all that, AND we have to pass by a certain age or our parents, and Jun, will tear us new ones." He sighed deeply and frowned at his empty glass, scraping the bottom of it with his spoon. "You have NO idea how nerve-racking it is. Some days I wish I'd never agreed to being in Green Dragon."
"Yeah," Goku agreed, though in the back of his mind he was wondering if it was right for him to grab Chi-Chi's hand under the table.
"Stupid Vegeta," 18 mumbled. "He's being such a pain in the ass right now."
"How so?" Krillin asked, though the words were on the tips of Chi-Chi and Maris' tongues too. They'd almost blurted out their secret, that they'd heard the conversation and wanted to know exactly what they'd been talking about, for nothing they said really told them anything.
"Just his liaisons with every girl he meets." She rolled her eyes and sighed, her shoulders rising and falling. It seemed she was at her wits' end with him. "He's so immature about it, too. There's this one woman, Sen, and Kami does he have us all in a rut with her. Just the other day—" Before she could get another word out 17 kicked her in the shin and gave her a look as if you say, "Don't you dare continue."
"Just the other day what?" Maris asked innocently, turning to 17, who she knew had stopped the flow of words.
"Nothing that we can tell you," 18 said, a sudden and completely unexpected contempt behind her voice. There was something about Maris that she didn't like, though would not admit that it was jealousy. She, 18 Gero, was NEVER jealous of ANYONE. Especially not no-name city girls with no class.
Maris felt her heated stare and slowly leaned back, sizing up the competition. Then, in an instant, she realized that she didn't care if 18 didn't like her or wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know. If she wanted to be short with her, then Maris could play her game, too. She wasn't one for revenge, but challenges and competitions—she lived for those. The name of the game: Love. The prize: Krillin. The battlefield: Their minds.
"Come on," she urged, giving Krillin a look that only he noticed. "Please."
"Yeah, 18," Krillin added, catching onto Maris' lifted eyebrows in a second. If she couldn't pry it out of her, then he might still have a chance. "It's not like we're going to tell anyone. We're not even telling people at school most of what happened last weekend, just that we saw the show and went backstage. We don't like other people knowing our business, we're a tight group, and we sure as hell don't tell other people's business when we're not entitled to."
"Jun would drop us all in a second if she knew what I was about to tell you."
"18!" 17 snapped, slapping his hands on the table. "As much as we need to get this stuff off our chests, we CANNOT tell anyone what's going on! What if someone here heard you and told the press! We'd all be ruined!"
"Then let's go to my house," Maris said, then added, with a small smile directed at Krillin, the first move in her self-declared war, "My parents are out of town."
18 caught the smile and almost let out an angry hiss, knowing exactly what she was up to. Fine, if she wanted to play, then so be it. She was NOT going to let her have Krillin, not when she finally found the perfect guy she'd been looking for her entire life and never thought she'd find. He was so totally different from her usual dates; smart, funny, classy, polite, instead of rude, callous, and haughty, and only thinking about getting into her pants. He was different in every way and, right then, she knew, that if she let herself, she could fall in love with him, something she promised herself she'd never do.
**********************************************************
It wasn't an easy thing to squeeze through a crowd of hundreds of people and dial a number on a cell phone at the same time, plus the added annoyance of an angry woman who barked down your throat. But, somewhere between the roof entrance and the club exit, Vegeta managed to get 18 on the line.
"Can you hear me!" he yelled over the loud music, barely catching her voice.
"Hardly! Call me back when you get outside!"
He hung up the phone in frustration and tugged on Bulma's arm.
"Let go of me," she hissed, yanking her arm free. "I already told you that I wasn't going to sleep with you. So back the hell off."
"You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"Big vocabulary for a barbarian," she snorted, the effects of the bourbon still fogging her vision and her mind, giving her a distorted view of the situation. If it had been any other time, she probably wouldn't have been so harsh on him. But alcohol really brought out her bad side.
Finally they pushed open the doors to the street, both breathing in deeply the fresh air. It was beyond stuffy in the club portion of The Lion's Den, what with all the bodies and dancing.
They were lucky to discover that all the news vans were gone, leaving only a line of cars waiting to be parked. Vegeta spotted the bus in an instant and resisted the urge to grab Bulma's wrist to get her to walk faster. He wanted to be on his way to getting as far away from her as he could.
Once inside the bus, having demanded that the driver leave IMMEDIATELY, Vegeta quickly dialed 18's cellular phone number again and barked, "Where are you?"
"Maris' house. Why?"
"Where is that?"
"Why? Is the date over already?"
"Yes, the stupid date is over. I'm bringing the woman there. Where is it?"
"What? Bringing me WHERE!" Bulma yelled, trying to pry the phone off his ear.
"Get off, woman!" he snapped, the sudden feel of her plump breasts on his back almost too much for him. "Just give me the general area. I know your car."
"How do you know we took my car?"
"Because, it's the only one that can fit all those people, now tell me!"
"Alright, alright. Sheesh." There was a pause, in which she held her hand on the speaker and asked Maris what her address was. "3435 Oolong Ave. Got that?"
"Got it."
**********************************************************
After a bit of careful persuasion, the group managed to get Bulma into the house, drink a glass of water, and stay in the kitchen until they got the story from Vegeta, who left immediately afterward. They didn't exactly believe his story, and would definitely ask Bulma about it later, when she was sobered up, of course.
Now they all sat in Maris' den, a perfectly square room painted royal blue and full of throw pillows and foot-high tables. It was her sanctuary, the only place she loved being more than the arcade or the library.
"So," Krillin began, taking a seat on a rather large velvety green pillow. He leaned on his left arm, his head tilted to the side and almost touching 18's shoulder. Maris tried to ignore their closeness and instead focused on 17, who seemed to be in a borderline panic. "What's this about Vegeta that we can't talk about in public?"
Bulma stiffened at the mention of his name, though cocked her head to the side, confused by his words. Was he talking about what she thought he was? And if so, why didn't anyone tell her about this? But right then, as the words sunk in, Goku set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, distracting her almost instantly. It was like she had A.D.D. or something when she was drunk; every little thing caught her attention. She almost fell several times walking through the club when the lights diverted her.
"It's so damn complicated," 18 sighed, running her fingers through her platinum blonde hair, wondering in the back of her mind why she felt the need to tell these people—who were basically strangers—this personal information. But she figured 17 was right; they desperately needed to get it off their chests and discuss the situation with other people besides themselves. "Where do I start?"
"Vegas," Goku cut in, picking his head up from Chi-Chi's shoulder as he spoke. He clasped her hand tightly in his lap, refusing to let it go. Not that she wanted to, though.
"Right. Vegas…Vegas, Vegas, Vegas." She glanced up at the group, nearly startled when all eyes were on her. All eyes but Bulma's, who was currently tracing the partner of a pillow in her lap. "Well," she sighed, "we were on tour in the States for a few months about…er…ten or eleven months ago. And, of course, Vegeta had to hit the casinos and clubs and cause all sorts of unnecessary trouble for us. We almost had to cancel one of our shows 'cause we couldn't find him."
"Bastard," 17 grumbled under his breath.
"I second that," 18 laughed bitterly. "Anyway, he ended up meeting this woman, Sen, at a casino and got to talking with her, well, hitting on her. And so they got drunk, or high, or something—he doesn't even know—and ended up, where else?, in bed together. But not before he completely screwed us for the rest of our careers."
"How'd'you mean?" Krillin couldn't help but ask.
"Well Sen is a very persistent person. If she wants something and can find a way to get it, no matter how cruel and heartless it is, she'll do it. In her case she wanted money, and lots of it. She was in Vegas trying to win big, though I'm not sure exactly why she didn't just play the casinos in Japan. Oh well…Anyway, she wanted money, and found the perfect way to get it."
"How?" It was Chi-Chi this time who could not keep the words from escaping her mouth.
"When they were drunk they somehow ended up in a wedding chapel."
Bulma's ears suddenly perked and she nearly dropped her coffee mug.
"They got married—" Bulma let go of her mug, her fingers slipping to grasp the pillow in her lap. "—and she won't grant him an annulment, and divorce is completely out of the question because of Vegeta's mother's religion and the fact that divorces are usually messy and would create a lot of publicity."
"That bitch," Maris snapped, her face pinching in anger. So that's what they were talking about.
"Oh, that's not all," 17 sighed, flipping his head from one side to the other.
"What else?"
"She was pregnant at the time they met, or so Vegeta says—" Bulma felt her resolve begin to bend. NO! Kami no! "—but Sen has a different story, and we believe her. We think the baby is Vegeta's…"
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---Chapter 8!!! Woo! Can you believe it! Vegeta might be a FATHER! Ahhhh! What the hell! That's moron! Heehee! Oh, and just the little fact that he's MARRIED! Kami! Sheesh! How the hell is everything supposed to work out now! Well—heehee—you'll see ;) I have a lot of twists planned, and some that are already in motion, this was just the first. The second I have all set up and will reveal pretty soon, well, no, probably not. LOL! But I will let you know when something is a twist or not, or whatever, just review :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Hmm…I dunno, heehee!
Note: Sorry about the Vegeta/Bulma fight, but that's how I like things, heehee. I like them to be as far away as possible and then—BAM!—they end up together. Plus, slower fics are also my thing. So don't be mad, PLEASE! ^~^