Last time:
"Now let's shut up and watch the rest of the movie."
"Great idea."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Bulma woke up just as the sun completed its arch across the morning sky. Rays of light broke through the half open shades, casting parallel lines across the floor and bed. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and smiled. It was 7:00 am, just the time she wanted to get up.
"Perfect," she whispered, pulling her rested body out of bed and into the bathroom. A long hot shower was just what she needed before a morning of hard work in the lab. A perfect Sunday.
Throwing on a plain white tank top and a pair of baggy overalls, Bulma made her way to the kitchen for a light breakfast. Her mother was there, of course, the skillet already sizzling with bacon and eggs. The smell was intoxicating, but she didn't have time. Not if she wanted to get her self-made work list complete.
"Just in time," Mrs. Briefs said cheerfully, pointing to the stove.
"No thanks," Bulma mumbled around a mouthful of apple. "I need to get to the lab. My mind's buzzing this morning."
"You need food for energy."
"I need to be in my lab before I explode."
"Fine," she sighed, in that motherly way that always seemed to make Bulma feel bad. "But you're coming up for lunch."
"Alright. Alright. I promise."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Bulma dear," came her mother's high voice as she advanced down the hall towards the lab. Bulma sighed in annoyance and dropped her screwdriver, a loud clanging noise echoing through her lab. Not only was her project giving her more trouble than she expected, but now she was being interrupted and it was only 11:00.
"Kami," she muttered, picking up the tool and setting it on her workbench. "Yes mom?"
"There's someone here to see you," Mrs. Briefs said, poking her head into the room.
"Mom! I'm filthy!"
But, just as the words flew from her mouth, Vegeta entered the lab, a smug smile already gracing his lips. He said something incoherent to her mother and she left the room, leaving them alone.
"Don't say a word," Bulma warned as she grabbed a rag to semi-wipe grease from her hands. She knew there was more on her face and clothes, but didn't bother with it. It was no use. He was already there and could see what a complete mess she was.
"Say what?" he asked, playing innocent.
"I know I look like shit. You caught me working. Not good."
"Actually…it's kind of sexy. All dirty and sweaty and worked up. Makes me want to—"
"Shut up?" she opted, then stood and tossed the rag on the workbench. "What'd you come over for? Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know," she said, exasperated. "Maybe a date. You look sexually frustrated."
"You're the only one who can help with that," he said huskily.
"So, you're not a dad?" She knew the only way to keep him off the subject of their non-relationship was to bring up something that would set him off. If this case, however, he only smiled and nodded. "What? No yelling? My, my, I do believe you are beginning to grow up."
"How long are you going to be busy with your tinker toys?"
"Excuse me?" Bulma hissed. Not only had she been interrupted, and by Vegeta no less, who she was constantly at odds with even with all the desire she had for be—but now he was calling her hard work "tinker toys", something he couldn't even begin to understand how to comprehend? "I hope I didn't just hear what I thought I heard."
"I think you did," he said smugly.
"Get out of my lab."
"No."
"Vegeta…"
"Why not prove me wrong then. Show me how 'advanced' your toys are. It'd really put me in my place." He smiled viciously, and held his hand out.
"What?"
"Shake?"
"Whatever," she grumbled, shaking his hand quickly. "I'll give you a tour and show you my projects, but I need a shower first."
"I'll say."
"I'm warning you."
"Ooo…sassy!"
"Uh!"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Bulma and Vegeta roamed around Capsule Corp. compound for nearly an hour, with Bulma stopping in all the labs and offices to show him around. She even went so far as to give him a tour of the house portion, even though she knew he'd seen most of it at the party a few nights ago. When they stopped in the kitchen for lunch, Bulma realized why she was showing him every mundane detail of her home and workplace. She didn't want to run out of things to talk about, didn't want him to think she was boring and then leave for good. Because, as much as she would have protested it to him, she never wanted him to be out of her life. Even as just a friend, she knew she wanted him around indefinitely.
If only she knew he wanted the exact same thing.
"What next?" Vegeta asked, mocking her mother's high shrill voice.
Bulma couldn't help but laugh.
"I showed you everything I could think of. All my projects, the building, everything. So, unless you want to learn how to build the things I build, there's no use going back to the labs. They're boring, or so I've heard, when you don't know what to do."
"I take it science comes easy then," he muttered. He hated science, though only because he was so terrible at it. That, and his mother really didn't have the knowledge or resources to teach him properly. His science lessons consisted of Discovery Channel essays and a vegetable garden in the back yard.
"Yeah. I got that from my dad." She leaned in slightly and took a sip from her iced tea with her straw, subconsciously pulling at the neck of her turtleneck sweater to stay up. She was damn lucky Vegeta had been too interested in annoying her earlier to notice the rather large love bite on her neck, covered only slightly by her hair. "I built a small remote controlled spider, with a stream of fishing line coming out the back like a web when I was five. I think that's younger then my dad was when he built his first machine. But technology was primitive then. And he is the most brilliant and famous scientist in the world. Creator of the capsules…Kami, if only I could be as great as he is."
Vegeta bit his lip and narrowed his brow. He wasn't comfortable in situations like this. If he was going to win her over, then the best thing for him to do was not comment on what she'd just said. Or else he might find himself kicked out of the house for insulting her, which was very likely to happen. And this time, with this girl, pissing her off was the last thing on his mind. Small jabs were fine. Necessary even. But he wanted to stay on speaking terms.
Perhaps that was another reason for his nervousness. He'd never wanted a girl more than he wanted Bulma right now, and if that meant keeping his mouth shut, then he was going to do it. No matter how awkward and unnatural it felt to him.
"Vegeta?"
He shook his head as if to shake his ideas away and looked up. Apparently she'd been speaking to him and he hadn't heard.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. What did you say?" he demanded.
"I was just babbling. But hey, we're done with lunch. And I just remembered one project I forgot to show you. I think you'll really like this one. And I can show you the spider I made when I was little."
"Fun, fun."
"Oh stop. I really meant it, I think you're going to like it."
"It better not be another machine with a 500 letter name that I can't pronounce that does something so completely useless that the name for it is made up."
"I promise, no more Detransagramictoppotopicmogrophiers," Bulma laughed as she stood and offered Vegeta her arm. He took it, reluctantly, then allowed himself to be led down the hall, around the corner, down another hall, into an elevator that went below the basement, down another shorter hall, and into Bulma's private lab. He wondered absently how she remembered where to go and not get lost.
She left him standing in the middle of the room, told him to stay put and not touch anything while she retrieved her two projects, both of which were in far back cabinets and hadn't been seen, let alone used, in years. It took several minutes to even find the objects, then a few more to pull them carefully from the shelves. Even with her expert craftsmanship, she was still worried about breaking the old machines.
First, she brought over the CD sized spider toy, set it on the floor at Vegeta's feet, and handed him the remote.
"I don't believe you," he said as he began to maneuver the bot around in circles.
"What?"
"I don't believe you made this when you were five."
"Five and a half," she admitted, blushing.
"I mean you couldn't have made this when you were a kid. It's impossible."
"I'm a savant, Vegeta. I excel in almost everything."
"Modest too."
"Shut up. I'm just telling the truth."
"What else do you have?"
"Hang on," she grumbled. She snatched the remote from his hands and stomped to her workbench, where the other machine was sitting. Vegeta didn't recognize it in the least. Though, he hadn't recognized hardly any of the things Bulma showed him either. "Here."
She handed him a small square metal box covered in what appeared to be trapdoors and hinges, though when he tried to pry them open, he couldn't fit his fingernails in the cracks.
"What the hell is it?" he demanded, glaring angrily at the contraption.
"Pandora's Box," she said triumphantly.
"Don't tell me you have evil in here. Is that where it comes from?"
She slapped him on the arm and shook her head in disappointment. Only great minds like hers could appreciate something like this.
"It works like a capsule," she explained, in slight agitation. "Except you need codes to open it, and there are codes on top of codes on top of codes. Very complex, and it only has one computer chip to store all the information."
"What can you put in it?" He eyed it suspiciously.
"Actually," she laughed. "That's exactly why you'll like it. All it is is a small refrigerator. The only reason I put all the codes on it was for a challenge, to see if I could. But, when I give it to you, I'll make it so it only has one master password, or maybe just a fingerprint scanner or voice activator. Something simple."
"Wait, you're giving me this?" She nodded. "How long did it take you to make?"
"Two weeks maybe."
"You're a strange woman," he laughed. "But how the hell am I supposed to carry it?"
"I told you it was like a capsule. Well, a double capsule. You put stuff inside the chambers, and then with another code you can fold it up into a regular capsule shape. Simple."
"Simple," he repeated. "Yeah, sounds it."
"It is. Here." She grabbed the box and walked over to her workbench, motioning for him to take a seat on the stool beside her. "I'll show you. I'll switch all the codes now. What do you want? Keypad? Voice? Or Fingerprints?"
"Voice," he said, a little stunned. This was going to take forever!
"Ok," she said. "And don't you worry. I'll have you out of here in two hours, I promise. Then later I'll take you out for pizza."
"You're amazing," he said under his breath, seemingly without even thinking it.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Alright…"
But she'd heard him perfectly.
And her heart seemed to stop.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Krillin, Maris, 17, and 18 sat around a small card table in Maris's basement, their faces stone cold, their voices silent. It was their fifth hand of poker, and now everyone seemed to be taking Maris seriously, for when she offered to play the game, she meant for real, and ruthlessly. Already she'd banked nearly half of everyone's chips, her pile slowly growing, theirs slowly shrinking.
"Let's see what everyone has," Maris said, eyeing them suspiciously. 17 flinched and looked away. He couldn't stop thinking about the kiss he'd shared with Bulma the day before, and the uneasy feeling it left with him. Of course he'd enjoyed it, and Bulma was a wonderful girl, maybe even someone he would continuing pursuing…if not for Maris. Even the way she was taking control of the card game gave him those love chills. Kami he hoped no one found out about their weakness together. Surely it would ruin all chances with Maris. He didn't want to be tainted for her. He— "17?"
"Huh?" He shook his head and looked up at Maris, who seemed a bit annoyed.
"What do you have?"
"Two pair," he muttered, laying his cards down.
"Flush," she said triumphantly, and pooled the money towards her, ready to deal again.
"None for me."
"Excuse me?"
17 stood and pushed in his chair, leaving his unused chips on the table.
"I'm done for tonight. I think I'm going to go home."
"But it's only 7:30. Come on, we're just getting warmed up!"
"No thanks. I'll see you guys later."
"Alright," Maris sighed, looking hurt. "Call me later, ok?"
"Sure."
He was almost to his car, when 18 came rushing out the front door and nearly tackled him into the driver's side door.
"What the hell, sis!?" he snapped, pushing her back. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," she said, breathing deeply from her mad dash outside. When her breathing was normal, she continued. "But what the hell was that little episode about?" She smacked him on the side of the head and frowned. "We've been here twenty minutes and you're leaving? Do you have any idea how hurt Maris was when you left like that? She didn't have to say anything. She just dealt the cards, didn't even try to psych us out."
"What the hell are you talking about, 18?"
"I'm talking about how rude that was. You come over to hang out with someone for more than twenty minutes, 17. Especially if you really like that person."
"Shut up," he spat, reaching for the car door.
"Don't you dare. I want to say something before you go."
"What?" He rolled his eyes. He had a pretty good idea at what could come next.
"Ask her."
"Excuse me?"
"Ask Maris out. What harm could it do?"
"She could say no, for one."
"But she likes you too!"
"I'm sure."
"Really! She told me! And she told you too."
"18, look. I'm in no mood for heartbreak. I spent most of my adolescence falling in love and getting crushed by gold diggers and band groupies. Not once did I meet a girl who actually wanted to be with me for me, and now, with Maris, I think I've finally found a girl who can accept me for more than a rock star. She—" He pointed rigidly towards the house. 18 flinched noticeably. "—is THE most amazing girl I've ever met. I know she said she liked me before, but I need more than that. I'm not going to throw myself at ANOTHER girl again. Not anymore. I'm done with that. I've hurt myself too many times."
"But—"
"I'll know when and if she's the one, but until then, YOU butt out!"
"I love ya bro," she sighed, defeated, and glanced at the house. "I'm probably staying here tonight with her and cue ball. I'll call you in the morning to check in, alright?"
"Yes mom."
"Shut up and give me a hug."
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"Oh my Kami!" Mrs. Briefs squealed as she read the morning paper, nearly spilling her milk in the process. "Bulma! Honey! You're in the paper!"
"What the hell!?" Bulma swore, snatching the paper from her mother's hands. She skimmed the front page and her eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. On the front page, their was a clear image of her and Vegeta walking in downtown Satan City, just a block from the pizza place they'd eaten at last night. "Kuso," she muttered, throwing the paper down, not at all hungry anymore.
And they'd taken the perfect shot too; his arm happened to be around her shoulder, a giant grin on his face, and a small smile on hers. What the picture didn't reveal, however, was that directly following that moment he was holding his gut, after she elbowed him for hitting on her yet again. He'd been smiling because he was about to make his move, and her nervous smile—appearing to be a genuine smile from a distance—was for his arm around her shoulder, which she was not comfortable with in the least.
"What's wrong dear?" her mother asked, scooping up the paper. "I think it's a very flattering picture."
"I hate newspapers," she snapped and stormed out of the kitchen and to her car. Hopefully Chi-Chi, Krillin, and Maris would agree with her.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"I don't see why you're so upset," Chi-Chi said. "I mean, I saw the picture and it's not that bad. You look good."
"That's not the point, Chi. I don't want ANYONE thinking me and him are a couple. I have enough to deal with as it is. I do NOT need some stupid paper printing lies about me and Vegeta!"
"So what if people think it's true. The majority knows most celebrity stories are bullshit. And besides, who wouldn't want to been thought of as dating a rock star?"
"Me!" Bulma all but yelled. "You don't get it. I don't have him. I don't want to have him. I don't want others to think I have him. He's not a good person, and everyone's name that's associated with him gets dragged through the mud. I do NOT need that for my career."
"Ok, ok!" she said, holding up her hands defensively. "Sorry. I'll stop. But you know once we walk in that building, everyone's going to be all over you."
"I know," she sighed. "But I can ignore the stupid girls."
Several moments later they entered their school, just as the bell rang, and walked idly to their lockers. They parted in the main hall, Bulma and Maris going one way, and Chi-Chi and Krillin going the other. Lockers were alphabetical, and so they were inevitably separated.
Bulma was just about to close her locker and catch up with Maris on the other side of the hall, when a girl with a beached blonde ponytail stalked over and slammed her locker shut, nearly catching Bulma's nose in the process.
"What the hell?"
"Why would Vegeta Ouji want some drab geek like you?" the girl sneered. Bulma narrowed her eyes and took a step back, so not to be nose to nose with the girl. It was Aki Okita, the only person in the school Bulma could truly call her enemy. They'd been at odds since Middle School when she and Yamcha first began to date. And she was still as jealous as ever.
"What's wrong, Aki? Can't stand being jealous of me?"
"Jealous of what?" she laughed. "That out-dated sweater? Or that hack job of a haircut?"
"You still can't get over Yamcha, can you? All this time, and you're still just as jealous as you were before."
"And you're still as ugly as you were before. Nothing changes, Briefs."
"Go back to your biker gang and leave me the hell alone, Aki. I don't have time to deal with your shit. Unlike you, I go to my classes and I'm going to make something of my life."
"I would too if I knew I was set for life with my daddy's job."
"I worked hard for where I am!" Bulma railed, clenching her fists, more angry that she let Aki get to her. "I do a hell of a lot more than lying on my back for people to respect me!"
"You've had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter since you were shitting your diapers, you little priss! And now you're parading Vegeta Ouji around Satan City like some kind of trophy! How much money did your daddy pay for him to do that?"
Aki was on the ground and holding her nose before anyone, including Bulma, knew what happened. She was still for a good ten seconds, staring at her balled fist. It was the first time a confrontation with Aki had come to this, and it felt good.
"You bitch!" Aki cried from the floor, blood seeping from her nose, onto her white shirt. She was crying and didn't look like she was getting up any time soon.
"Next time you insult me or my father, I won't stop with a little punch in the face. I'll be dragging your broken body to the Emergency Room."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, bitch. See what happens. See how far you can push me."
But the fight was not to continue today, and Aki Okita simply sat on the floor, her face and shirt cover in smeared blood and tears.
Bulma walked away, chuckling softly to herself.
Maris looked on in awe.
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---Chapter 19!!! Well, well, well. Someone's been busy writing her story :D Yay! That's me! Hope everyone liked this! A lot more happened this time :D
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) …A little birdy told me he'd kill anyone who didn't review…
Next time: Bulma and Mrs. Ouji do some bonding! :D…What will Vegeta think!? :o
"Now let's shut up and watch the rest of the movie."
"Great idea."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Bulma woke up just as the sun completed its arch across the morning sky. Rays of light broke through the half open shades, casting parallel lines across the floor and bed. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and smiled. It was 7:00 am, just the time she wanted to get up.
"Perfect," she whispered, pulling her rested body out of bed and into the bathroom. A long hot shower was just what she needed before a morning of hard work in the lab. A perfect Sunday.
Throwing on a plain white tank top and a pair of baggy overalls, Bulma made her way to the kitchen for a light breakfast. Her mother was there, of course, the skillet already sizzling with bacon and eggs. The smell was intoxicating, but she didn't have time. Not if she wanted to get her self-made work list complete.
"Just in time," Mrs. Briefs said cheerfully, pointing to the stove.
"No thanks," Bulma mumbled around a mouthful of apple. "I need to get to the lab. My mind's buzzing this morning."
"You need food for energy."
"I need to be in my lab before I explode."
"Fine," she sighed, in that motherly way that always seemed to make Bulma feel bad. "But you're coming up for lunch."
"Alright. Alright. I promise."
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"Bulma dear," came her mother's high voice as she advanced down the hall towards the lab. Bulma sighed in annoyance and dropped her screwdriver, a loud clanging noise echoing through her lab. Not only was her project giving her more trouble than she expected, but now she was being interrupted and it was only 11:00.
"Kami," she muttered, picking up the tool and setting it on her workbench. "Yes mom?"
"There's someone here to see you," Mrs. Briefs said, poking her head into the room.
"Mom! I'm filthy!"
But, just as the words flew from her mouth, Vegeta entered the lab, a smug smile already gracing his lips. He said something incoherent to her mother and she left the room, leaving them alone.
"Don't say a word," Bulma warned as she grabbed a rag to semi-wipe grease from her hands. She knew there was more on her face and clothes, but didn't bother with it. It was no use. He was already there and could see what a complete mess she was.
"Say what?" he asked, playing innocent.
"I know I look like shit. You caught me working. Not good."
"Actually…it's kind of sexy. All dirty and sweaty and worked up. Makes me want to—"
"Shut up?" she opted, then stood and tossed the rag on the workbench. "What'd you come over for? Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know," she said, exasperated. "Maybe a date. You look sexually frustrated."
"You're the only one who can help with that," he said huskily.
"So, you're not a dad?" She knew the only way to keep him off the subject of their non-relationship was to bring up something that would set him off. If this case, however, he only smiled and nodded. "What? No yelling? My, my, I do believe you are beginning to grow up."
"How long are you going to be busy with your tinker toys?"
"Excuse me?" Bulma hissed. Not only had she been interrupted, and by Vegeta no less, who she was constantly at odds with even with all the desire she had for be—but now he was calling her hard work "tinker toys", something he couldn't even begin to understand how to comprehend? "I hope I didn't just hear what I thought I heard."
"I think you did," he said smugly.
"Get out of my lab."
"No."
"Vegeta…"
"Why not prove me wrong then. Show me how 'advanced' your toys are. It'd really put me in my place." He smiled viciously, and held his hand out.
"What?"
"Shake?"
"Whatever," she grumbled, shaking his hand quickly. "I'll give you a tour and show you my projects, but I need a shower first."
"I'll say."
"I'm warning you."
"Ooo…sassy!"
"Uh!"
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Bulma and Vegeta roamed around Capsule Corp. compound for nearly an hour, with Bulma stopping in all the labs and offices to show him around. She even went so far as to give him a tour of the house portion, even though she knew he'd seen most of it at the party a few nights ago. When they stopped in the kitchen for lunch, Bulma realized why she was showing him every mundane detail of her home and workplace. She didn't want to run out of things to talk about, didn't want him to think she was boring and then leave for good. Because, as much as she would have protested it to him, she never wanted him to be out of her life. Even as just a friend, she knew she wanted him around indefinitely.
If only she knew he wanted the exact same thing.
"What next?" Vegeta asked, mocking her mother's high shrill voice.
Bulma couldn't help but laugh.
"I showed you everything I could think of. All my projects, the building, everything. So, unless you want to learn how to build the things I build, there's no use going back to the labs. They're boring, or so I've heard, when you don't know what to do."
"I take it science comes easy then," he muttered. He hated science, though only because he was so terrible at it. That, and his mother really didn't have the knowledge or resources to teach him properly. His science lessons consisted of Discovery Channel essays and a vegetable garden in the back yard.
"Yeah. I got that from my dad." She leaned in slightly and took a sip from her iced tea with her straw, subconsciously pulling at the neck of her turtleneck sweater to stay up. She was damn lucky Vegeta had been too interested in annoying her earlier to notice the rather large love bite on her neck, covered only slightly by her hair. "I built a small remote controlled spider, with a stream of fishing line coming out the back like a web when I was five. I think that's younger then my dad was when he built his first machine. But technology was primitive then. And he is the most brilliant and famous scientist in the world. Creator of the capsules…Kami, if only I could be as great as he is."
Vegeta bit his lip and narrowed his brow. He wasn't comfortable in situations like this. If he was going to win her over, then the best thing for him to do was not comment on what she'd just said. Or else he might find himself kicked out of the house for insulting her, which was very likely to happen. And this time, with this girl, pissing her off was the last thing on his mind. Small jabs were fine. Necessary even. But he wanted to stay on speaking terms.
Perhaps that was another reason for his nervousness. He'd never wanted a girl more than he wanted Bulma right now, and if that meant keeping his mouth shut, then he was going to do it. No matter how awkward and unnatural it felt to him.
"Vegeta?"
He shook his head as if to shake his ideas away and looked up. Apparently she'd been speaking to him and he hadn't heard.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. What did you say?" he demanded.
"I was just babbling. But hey, we're done with lunch. And I just remembered one project I forgot to show you. I think you'll really like this one. And I can show you the spider I made when I was little."
"Fun, fun."
"Oh stop. I really meant it, I think you're going to like it."
"It better not be another machine with a 500 letter name that I can't pronounce that does something so completely useless that the name for it is made up."
"I promise, no more Detransagramictoppotopicmogrophiers," Bulma laughed as she stood and offered Vegeta her arm. He took it, reluctantly, then allowed himself to be led down the hall, around the corner, down another hall, into an elevator that went below the basement, down another shorter hall, and into Bulma's private lab. He wondered absently how she remembered where to go and not get lost.
She left him standing in the middle of the room, told him to stay put and not touch anything while she retrieved her two projects, both of which were in far back cabinets and hadn't been seen, let alone used, in years. It took several minutes to even find the objects, then a few more to pull them carefully from the shelves. Even with her expert craftsmanship, she was still worried about breaking the old machines.
First, she brought over the CD sized spider toy, set it on the floor at Vegeta's feet, and handed him the remote.
"I don't believe you," he said as he began to maneuver the bot around in circles.
"What?"
"I don't believe you made this when you were five."
"Five and a half," she admitted, blushing.
"I mean you couldn't have made this when you were a kid. It's impossible."
"I'm a savant, Vegeta. I excel in almost everything."
"Modest too."
"Shut up. I'm just telling the truth."
"What else do you have?"
"Hang on," she grumbled. She snatched the remote from his hands and stomped to her workbench, where the other machine was sitting. Vegeta didn't recognize it in the least. Though, he hadn't recognized hardly any of the things Bulma showed him either. "Here."
She handed him a small square metal box covered in what appeared to be trapdoors and hinges, though when he tried to pry them open, he couldn't fit his fingernails in the cracks.
"What the hell is it?" he demanded, glaring angrily at the contraption.
"Pandora's Box," she said triumphantly.
"Don't tell me you have evil in here. Is that where it comes from?"
She slapped him on the arm and shook her head in disappointment. Only great minds like hers could appreciate something like this.
"It works like a capsule," she explained, in slight agitation. "Except you need codes to open it, and there are codes on top of codes on top of codes. Very complex, and it only has one computer chip to store all the information."
"What can you put in it?" He eyed it suspiciously.
"Actually," she laughed. "That's exactly why you'll like it. All it is is a small refrigerator. The only reason I put all the codes on it was for a challenge, to see if I could. But, when I give it to you, I'll make it so it only has one master password, or maybe just a fingerprint scanner or voice activator. Something simple."
"Wait, you're giving me this?" She nodded. "How long did it take you to make?"
"Two weeks maybe."
"You're a strange woman," he laughed. "But how the hell am I supposed to carry it?"
"I told you it was like a capsule. Well, a double capsule. You put stuff inside the chambers, and then with another code you can fold it up into a regular capsule shape. Simple."
"Simple," he repeated. "Yeah, sounds it."
"It is. Here." She grabbed the box and walked over to her workbench, motioning for him to take a seat on the stool beside her. "I'll show you. I'll switch all the codes now. What do you want? Keypad? Voice? Or Fingerprints?"
"Voice," he said, a little stunned. This was going to take forever!
"Ok," she said. "And don't you worry. I'll have you out of here in two hours, I promise. Then later I'll take you out for pizza."
"You're amazing," he said under his breath, seemingly without even thinking it.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Alright…"
But she'd heard him perfectly.
And her heart seemed to stop.
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Krillin, Maris, 17, and 18 sat around a small card table in Maris's basement, their faces stone cold, their voices silent. It was their fifth hand of poker, and now everyone seemed to be taking Maris seriously, for when she offered to play the game, she meant for real, and ruthlessly. Already she'd banked nearly half of everyone's chips, her pile slowly growing, theirs slowly shrinking.
"Let's see what everyone has," Maris said, eyeing them suspiciously. 17 flinched and looked away. He couldn't stop thinking about the kiss he'd shared with Bulma the day before, and the uneasy feeling it left with him. Of course he'd enjoyed it, and Bulma was a wonderful girl, maybe even someone he would continuing pursuing…if not for Maris. Even the way she was taking control of the card game gave him those love chills. Kami he hoped no one found out about their weakness together. Surely it would ruin all chances with Maris. He didn't want to be tainted for her. He— "17?"
"Huh?" He shook his head and looked up at Maris, who seemed a bit annoyed.
"What do you have?"
"Two pair," he muttered, laying his cards down.
"Flush," she said triumphantly, and pooled the money towards her, ready to deal again.
"None for me."
"Excuse me?"
17 stood and pushed in his chair, leaving his unused chips on the table.
"I'm done for tonight. I think I'm going to go home."
"But it's only 7:30. Come on, we're just getting warmed up!"
"No thanks. I'll see you guys later."
"Alright," Maris sighed, looking hurt. "Call me later, ok?"
"Sure."
He was almost to his car, when 18 came rushing out the front door and nearly tackled him into the driver's side door.
"What the hell, sis!?" he snapped, pushing her back. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," she said, breathing deeply from her mad dash outside. When her breathing was normal, she continued. "But what the hell was that little episode about?" She smacked him on the side of the head and frowned. "We've been here twenty minutes and you're leaving? Do you have any idea how hurt Maris was when you left like that? She didn't have to say anything. She just dealt the cards, didn't even try to psych us out."
"What the hell are you talking about, 18?"
"I'm talking about how rude that was. You come over to hang out with someone for more than twenty minutes, 17. Especially if you really like that person."
"Shut up," he spat, reaching for the car door.
"Don't you dare. I want to say something before you go."
"What?" He rolled his eyes. He had a pretty good idea at what could come next.
"Ask her."
"Excuse me?"
"Ask Maris out. What harm could it do?"
"She could say no, for one."
"But she likes you too!"
"I'm sure."
"Really! She told me! And she told you too."
"18, look. I'm in no mood for heartbreak. I spent most of my adolescence falling in love and getting crushed by gold diggers and band groupies. Not once did I meet a girl who actually wanted to be with me for me, and now, with Maris, I think I've finally found a girl who can accept me for more than a rock star. She—" He pointed rigidly towards the house. 18 flinched noticeably. "—is THE most amazing girl I've ever met. I know she said she liked me before, but I need more than that. I'm not going to throw myself at ANOTHER girl again. Not anymore. I'm done with that. I've hurt myself too many times."
"But—"
"I'll know when and if she's the one, but until then, YOU butt out!"
"I love ya bro," she sighed, defeated, and glanced at the house. "I'm probably staying here tonight with her and cue ball. I'll call you in the morning to check in, alright?"
"Yes mom."
"Shut up and give me a hug."
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"Oh my Kami!" Mrs. Briefs squealed as she read the morning paper, nearly spilling her milk in the process. "Bulma! Honey! You're in the paper!"
"What the hell!?" Bulma swore, snatching the paper from her mother's hands. She skimmed the front page and her eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. On the front page, their was a clear image of her and Vegeta walking in downtown Satan City, just a block from the pizza place they'd eaten at last night. "Kuso," she muttered, throwing the paper down, not at all hungry anymore.
And they'd taken the perfect shot too; his arm happened to be around her shoulder, a giant grin on his face, and a small smile on hers. What the picture didn't reveal, however, was that directly following that moment he was holding his gut, after she elbowed him for hitting on her yet again. He'd been smiling because he was about to make his move, and her nervous smile—appearing to be a genuine smile from a distance—was for his arm around her shoulder, which she was not comfortable with in the least.
"What's wrong dear?" her mother asked, scooping up the paper. "I think it's a very flattering picture."
"I hate newspapers," she snapped and stormed out of the kitchen and to her car. Hopefully Chi-Chi, Krillin, and Maris would agree with her.
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"I don't see why you're so upset," Chi-Chi said. "I mean, I saw the picture and it's not that bad. You look good."
"That's not the point, Chi. I don't want ANYONE thinking me and him are a couple. I have enough to deal with as it is. I do NOT need some stupid paper printing lies about me and Vegeta!"
"So what if people think it's true. The majority knows most celebrity stories are bullshit. And besides, who wouldn't want to been thought of as dating a rock star?"
"Me!" Bulma all but yelled. "You don't get it. I don't have him. I don't want to have him. I don't want others to think I have him. He's not a good person, and everyone's name that's associated with him gets dragged through the mud. I do NOT need that for my career."
"Ok, ok!" she said, holding up her hands defensively. "Sorry. I'll stop. But you know once we walk in that building, everyone's going to be all over you."
"I know," she sighed. "But I can ignore the stupid girls."
Several moments later they entered their school, just as the bell rang, and walked idly to their lockers. They parted in the main hall, Bulma and Maris going one way, and Chi-Chi and Krillin going the other. Lockers were alphabetical, and so they were inevitably separated.
Bulma was just about to close her locker and catch up with Maris on the other side of the hall, when a girl with a beached blonde ponytail stalked over and slammed her locker shut, nearly catching Bulma's nose in the process.
"What the hell?"
"Why would Vegeta Ouji want some drab geek like you?" the girl sneered. Bulma narrowed her eyes and took a step back, so not to be nose to nose with the girl. It was Aki Okita, the only person in the school Bulma could truly call her enemy. They'd been at odds since Middle School when she and Yamcha first began to date. And she was still as jealous as ever.
"What's wrong, Aki? Can't stand being jealous of me?"
"Jealous of what?" she laughed. "That out-dated sweater? Or that hack job of a haircut?"
"You still can't get over Yamcha, can you? All this time, and you're still just as jealous as you were before."
"And you're still as ugly as you were before. Nothing changes, Briefs."
"Go back to your biker gang and leave me the hell alone, Aki. I don't have time to deal with your shit. Unlike you, I go to my classes and I'm going to make something of my life."
"I would too if I knew I was set for life with my daddy's job."
"I worked hard for where I am!" Bulma railed, clenching her fists, more angry that she let Aki get to her. "I do a hell of a lot more than lying on my back for people to respect me!"
"You've had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter since you were shitting your diapers, you little priss! And now you're parading Vegeta Ouji around Satan City like some kind of trophy! How much money did your daddy pay for him to do that?"
Aki was on the ground and holding her nose before anyone, including Bulma, knew what happened. She was still for a good ten seconds, staring at her balled fist. It was the first time a confrontation with Aki had come to this, and it felt good.
"You bitch!" Aki cried from the floor, blood seeping from her nose, onto her white shirt. She was crying and didn't look like she was getting up any time soon.
"Next time you insult me or my father, I won't stop with a little punch in the face. I'll be dragging your broken body to the Emergency Room."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, bitch. See what happens. See how far you can push me."
But the fight was not to continue today, and Aki Okita simply sat on the floor, her face and shirt cover in smeared blood and tears.
Bulma walked away, chuckling softly to herself.
Maris looked on in awe.
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---Chapter 19!!! Well, well, well. Someone's been busy writing her story :D Yay! That's me! Hope everyone liked this! A lot more happened this time :D
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) …A little birdy told me he'd kill anyone who didn't review…
Next time: Bulma and Mrs. Ouji do some bonding! :D…What will Vegeta think!? :o