Last time:
Bulma walked away, chuckling softly to herself.
Maris looked on in awe.
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Note: This chapter is going to span over a month or so, so don't panic! :P And, there is some slight lemon-ness, so if you can't handle it, don't read it!
"So," Vegeta said, as he picked through the macaroni and cheese 18 had made for him. "Am I better?"
"What are you talking about?" 18 asked. She took a seat across from him at the table.
"I don't know," he sighed sarcastically. "Maybe how you bitched at me a few months ago about shaping up or you'd leave the band. I think that might be it."
"Oh," she laughed, and took a bite of macaroni and cheese, thinking absently that it was a little dry. "Yes, I think you've managed to turn yourself around."
He only nodded and continued eating his food.
"I think Bulma had a lot to do with it."
"Shut up."
"No, I mean it. Ever since you met her you've been so focused on her you haven't had time to screw things up. No dates, no problems."
"She has nothing to do with it."
"So you're magically humbled?"
He nodded, his eyes narrowed. Bulma seemed to be a sore subject for him lately, 18 thought. Probably due to the fact that she wasn't falling for the same bait as all the other girls.
"All I'm saying is that I think that's the reason. There may be some other out of this world reason for it other than that, but since I don't know, that's what I'm assuming. I mean, you've even been nicer to people lately. Goku told me you were bringing him food the other day."
"He's a damn cripple, what do you expect? I'm not that cold."
18 only laughed.
"By the way, nice hickey you gave Bulma. I saw her trying to cover it up today (Monday)."
"What the hell are you babbling on about now?" Vegeta grunted. "She specifically told me no hickies, and she got exactly that; no hickies."
"No, I saw it. She was wearing a turtleneck, and it slipped down, and before she could pull it up, I distinctly saw a big red mark on her neck. I think I know what a hickey looks like Vegeta."
"And I think I know that I didn't even go near her neck. Maybe kissed it once or twice, but nothing that could leave a mark. I was damn careful!"
There was a long pause, and then Vegeta grabbed his bowl of macaroni and cheese and threw it across the room. The dishwasher-safe glass shattered on the wall, and shards and macaroni went everywhere.
"What the fuck, Vegeta!" 18 yelled, now ten feet from the table. "That was uncalled for!"
"She's messing around with another guy!" he countered, throwing his fork to the floor as well. When he went to grab his glass, however, 18 stopped him and demanded to know what he was talking about. "Bulma, you moron! She's screwing some other guy! You think I don't know when someone is with more than one person? I do it all the time; I know the signs! And this one is damn obvious!"
"But the only guys she hangs out with are you, Krillin, 17, and maybe Yamcha. And all of them are taken."
"No," he hissed, clenching his teeth and fists. "17 is conveniently single."
"He's all over Maris, what would he be doing with Bulma?"
"Stop defending your useless brother and open your eyes!"
"Fuck you, Vegeta! You don't know what you're talking about! If you stopped being jealous for one second, you'd realize that the reason Bulma is with another guy is because YOU are not giving her what she needs."
"I give her plenty."
"You give her lines and false hopes! Try growing up, then maybe you'd see how much she likes you and how close you are to having her if you'd just stop being the way you always are with girls!"
"If she really wanted me she'd want me as I am!"
"What girl in their right mind would want a relationship with someone whose constantly putting them down? You think girls want to be hit on every five minutes? You think they like arguing about the littlest, stupidest things for your sake? You think they like having to explain to their friends and family why you are they way you are? No, you moron! Open your damn eyes! Bulma is the only girl who could have put up with you for this long and you can't even begin to see what a miracle that is. She could actually love you, and all you're going to do is break her heart."
"Do you really think I'm that cruel?" he snapped.
"Yes," she said coldly, then turned and walked out of the house, leaving Vegeta angry and standing in broken glass and cheesy macaroni.
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(Saturday)
Bulma let out a howling laugh and slapped her knee, fighting to keep her tears back. For the past hour or so, she'd been sitting on Vegeta's living room floor, surrounded by boxes, and laughing wildly. Vegeta, however, was missing from the mix, replaced by the one person he would hate to know she was spending time with: his mother. And not only that, but they'd been searching through all the old Ouji photo albums, and cracking jokes about the absent rock star.
"Oh, that was great," Bulma managed between giggles. "I had no idea what a happy little kid Vegeta was. So much different from the grumpy guy he is now."
"Well," Mrs. Ouji sighed, her laughter subsiding, "you're too young to remember how he was before his father died. Here."
She handed Bulma a small, slightly tattered, photo.
"My Kami," she gasped, staring at the image. It was an old class picture of Vegeta, 17, 18, Goku, and her, Krillin and Chi-Chi. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. Shouldn't she have the same picture, hidden somewhere in an old album? "Look how chubby his face was!" she finally laughed, handing the picture back to Mrs. Ouji. "He's certainly bulked up since then. Not an ounce of fat on that guy."
"Yes, well, with how much time he spends at the gym, I'm surprised he doesn't take up permanent residence there."
"He needs to please his fans, you know."
"Bulma." Mrs. Ouji's voice suddenly dropped and was filled with unmasked concern. "What do you want with my son?"
"Excuse me?" Not only had she thought she heard wrong, but what she thought she heard, suddenly made her very angry. What does she mean, she thought, what do I want with her son?
"I mean, dear, that I don't understand why you'd want to spend time with Vegeta if he's…well…the way he is. He's driven so many beautiful young girls insane with his behavior, and I…I just don't want the same happening to you. You're so strong to keep a romantic distance from my son, but I fear that won't last much longer. I really like you Bulma, and wish you the best, but…just not with Vegeta."
"Is that why you called me?" Bulma asked, stunned at her words. What kind of mother talked about her son that way?
"Yes and no. Yes, I did want to warn you in a way. I know you're smart enough to tell the difference between games and sincerity, but I also know that the heart can sometimes overpower the mind…But I also wanted to get to know you. So many of the girls Vegeta brings home never stop long enough to look at me, let alone say hello. From the moment he brought you here, I knew there was something different about you. You're not letting Vegeta win at his games. You're staying strong…And you're not letting your heart put you in danger."
"What do you mean, not letting?"
"Bulma, sweety," she sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's painfully obvious that you have some feelings for my son. That's another reason I wanted to warn you. I can see your affection for him growing, and I needed to tell you exactly where those feelings might lead you."
"You're supposed to be his mother," Bulma snapped in his defense. Immediately, however, she regretted her words and tried to apologize.
"It's alright. I understand how my behavior might seem, but I can't ignore my son's foolishness any longer. Too many innocent girls have been hurt because of him, and I can't sit by and let yet another fall through the cracks…I know a mother is supposed to help and support her own child, but I don't think Vegeta can be helped. But you, Bulma, you can prevent yourself from even being close to being hurt. You can stop the games he's playing. You can stay strong because you know what he'll do."
"And what makes you think he'll do the same as he did with all the rest?"
"Because, dear, it's exactly like you said…the same as all the rest…All the rest! Don't you see? He's hurt so many that one more person, no matter how great, is nothing to him."
"So first I'm a toy, and now I'm nothing?" Bulma hissed, jumping to her feet. "Forgive me, Mrs. Ouji, but I think you need to have some faith in your own flesh and blood. Can't you see that he's hurting over the loss of his father? People do strange and stupid things in their grief, and I don't think this case is any different. He hasn't found any closure with his father's death, and until he does, he's going to continue acting the way he does. Maybe, instead of warning me and other girls about your son, you should try to help him get over his demons. Until he does, he's going to be the same, and he's going to continue to resent you."
"Don't you think I've tried that!?" Mrs. Ouji cried, now standing and clinging to Bulma's arm. "I've tried everything to help my son, and I can't! That, and only that, is the reason I can say he's hopeless and focus on helping the people he hurts. What kind of a mother would I be if I abandoned him like that?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Ouji," Bulma sighed, pulling her into a compassionate hug. "I…I guess I like Vegeta more than I thought…"
"I know dear…And that's why I'm trying to help you."
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"Hey Vegeta," Bulma said as she entered his room. Only moments before, he'd come home, saw her and his mother in the living room, and stormed up to his room, shooting off various nasty curses. "What's up? Have a bad day or something?"
He didn't even look at her, just continued to read the Anzai book in his lap.
"Come on. I'm sorry we haven't hung out all week, but I'm busy with school," she said, taking a seat on the bed beside him. "Besides, you haven't called me either. You have no reason to be angry."
"Did it ever occur to you, woman, that I'm not so childish as to be mad over something so trivial?"
"Then what's bothering you?"
"You," he snapped. He climbed off the bed and threw down his book, nearly hitting Bulma with it in the process. "Get the hell out of my room, and do NOT call me!"
"Excuse me? What the hell did I do to you?"
"Nothing you did," he laughed. "No. You, Princess of Capsule Corp., are always innocent, right? Just like Anzai's damn princesses! They're always innocent! They never hurt a soul! They're pure and good and fucking holy! Just like you!"
"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, now standing as close to him as she thought wise. "I don't know what's got you so angry, but I think I have a right to know before I get railed like this. What did I do?"
"What?" he asked maliciously. "Or who? Yes, that might work as well. And, as far as my mother is concerned, she's just as horrid as ever, and a perfect friend for you!"
"You're mad because I'm spending time with your mother!?" She'd completely forgotten the first part of his accusations. "Oh, now that's rich. So what, I'm not allowed to talk to the people you don't like? She's your mother for Kami's sake, Vegeta! You have no reason to hate her the way you do!"
"No reason!?" he boomed, taking a step forward. Bulma would have flinched, if she hadn't been so angry. "No reason!? I have plenty of reasons to loathe her! And talking to you only adds to the list."
"She's not the reason your father is dead, Vegeta." Big mistake. "You need to stop blaming her for that."
Without thinking, Vegeta tackled Bulma to the bed and held her wrists in his vice grip of a grasp. His weight was pressed entirely on top of her stomach and she could barely breathe, let alone yell for him to stop. But, as she looked up into his fiery eyes, she suddenly stopped struggling and shrunk back. Never in her life, had she ever been afraid of men the way a woman is always thought she should. But now, as his cold stare seemed to penetrate her soul, an uncontrollable shudder ran through her and for the first time in her life, she was truly afraid of a man's strength.
"If you EVER mention my father again, I will not hesitate to show you exactly how I feel about you, you worthless bitch!" He tightened his grip on her wrists and his knees seemed to bore into her sides like knives. "You didn't know him and you have no right even thinking about him! He was the only person I ever trusted and your degrading words are not what he deserves!"
She went to speak, possibly defend herself, but the words stopped just short of her lips. A small gasp is all that escaped.
"What?" he demanded, lifting himself slightly. He was positively shaking with rage.
"And why do I deserve this?" she whispered, straining her neck.
"Because—" But he stopped short, as the realization of his actions finally sunk in. Slowly, he eased himself off of Bulma and off the bed, only to collapse on the floor. With no thoughts for herself, Bulma ran to his side and pulled him against her.
"I know it hurts to lose someone," she whispered. She kissed his forehead lovingly. "But you need to find another way to let your anger out. Hurting everyone around isn't going to stop you from hurting."
"What do you know?" he snapped, turning his head away. But Bulma had seen the tears straining to break free, and opted not to tell him she did.
"I've been doing the same thing," she sighed. "Ever since Yamcha's parents died, I've been trying to find a way to stop hurting. I think fighting with you, and some of the fights I got into at school this year, were ways of trying to replace that hurt with something else. I know now that I was just being stupid. The only thing that can help me is time…and it's the only thing that can help you too. That and forgiving your mother."
"She doesn't deserve—"
"She deserves it the most," Bulma insisted, then gave way to kissing his forehead, and cheeks, and eyes, until finally he grabbed her arms and gently eased her on her back, his mouth covering hers. Slowly, cautiously, he inched his hand under her shirt and gently grasped then massaged one of her breasts. And, before either of them knew it, Bulma's shirt lay crumpled on the floor beside them, soon to be joined by her lacey purple bra. From her neck, Vegeta continued down Bulma's chest until he reached her left breast and his mouth found her hard round nipple. His other hand found her right one, his fingers teasing the small fleshy pebble expertly.
Bulma let out a satisfied moan, her hands digging into his wild hair. But, as soon as his hand began to wander closer towards Bulma's midsection, she jumped back and covered her naked chest with her arms.
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling on her shirt. Her bra was forgotten in her haste. "I…I can't do this…Not with you Vegeta…I'm sorry."
"Whatever," he grumbled, then stood, grabbed his fallen Anzai book off the floor, and settled back on his bed to continue reading like nothing happened. Outraged, and completely embarrassed, Bulma hissed a few choice curses, then stomped out of his room, leaving her bra on the floor as an accidental souvenir.
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Bulma, Chi-Chi, Krillin, Maris, 17, 18, and Goku all sat in Bulma's living room, watching old cartoons, that were beginning to cycle out of the Thanksgiving theme, and move more towards Christmas. The Thanksgiving Holdiday hadn't been at all what Bulma was expecting, what with her mother inviting all of her friends, old and new, to come have dinner at Capsule Corp. All but Vegeta accepted the invitation.
Now, on this drowsy day in mid-December, Bulma felt almost alone in a room full of people. Since her last encounter with Vegeta, she'd only seen him a few times, but always in the company of his band mates, and never did he even try to talk to her. Eventually, Bulma broke down and told the others what happened and they assured her that Vegeta's distance was due to his embarrassment of the situation. It was hard for him to accept the fact that she wasn't like the other girls and didn't just want him in bed. When she refused him, it took a hard hit on his ego, something he considered sacred.
"What now?" Krillin groaned, his arm loosely draped over 18 and Bulma's shoulders. "We've been on Christmas vacation for a week now, and we're already bored."
"What do you want to do, Krill?" Bulma snapped playfully, pushing all thoughts of Vegeta from her mind. "You want to go Christmas shopping? Get hounded by all the crazy shoppers?"
"No," he sighed. The group had decided, that with the mobs of Christmas shoppers, that they'd wait and exchange Secret Santa presents on New Year's Eve. The only shopping any of them did was for family members, but it seemed they were all finished. Vegeta, unwillingly, was thrown into the Secret Santa hat, and ended up pulling out Bulma's name. She, however, pulled 17's name. The ballots were secret, though everyone could tell who Vegeta ended up with. That was the last time Bulma had seen him.
"Well—" But, just as Bulma began speaking, the telephone rang on the side table next to her. She gave a weak laugh, then answered it with, "Merry Christmas Capsule Corp. Customer. How may I help you?" This was of course a joke, for all the phones in the housing area were separate from those of the company.
"Pack your bags," came Vegeta's unmistakenable voice.
"Come again?" Surely she'd heard wrong.
"I said, pack your bags, woman."
"Where the hell do you think I'm going?"
"Europe."
And before she could answer, he'd already hung up the phone.
"What was that all about?" 18 asked, eyeing the phone almost suspiciously.
"I…I honestly don't know…"
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---Chapter 20! What? Europe? What the hell is he thinking? I can't even begin to wonder what he's doing!—Oh wait! Yes I can :P But I'm not telling!!!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) More Chapters=Extremely happy Marci :D
Next time: Find out what Vegeta hit his head on to think Buma will go with him to Europe…LOL! :P
P.S. I really, really, really, really, really, really hope everyone is enjoying this fic. I've out a lot into it and I think it's going alright. But it's what my readers think that matters, so I hope everyone likes it as much as I do. Questions and comments are always welcome :)
Bulma walked away, chuckling softly to herself.
Maris looked on in awe.
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Note: This chapter is going to span over a month or so, so don't panic! :P And, there is some slight lemon-ness, so if you can't handle it, don't read it!
"So," Vegeta said, as he picked through the macaroni and cheese 18 had made for him. "Am I better?"
"What are you talking about?" 18 asked. She took a seat across from him at the table.
"I don't know," he sighed sarcastically. "Maybe how you bitched at me a few months ago about shaping up or you'd leave the band. I think that might be it."
"Oh," she laughed, and took a bite of macaroni and cheese, thinking absently that it was a little dry. "Yes, I think you've managed to turn yourself around."
He only nodded and continued eating his food.
"I think Bulma had a lot to do with it."
"Shut up."
"No, I mean it. Ever since you met her you've been so focused on her you haven't had time to screw things up. No dates, no problems."
"She has nothing to do with it."
"So you're magically humbled?"
He nodded, his eyes narrowed. Bulma seemed to be a sore subject for him lately, 18 thought. Probably due to the fact that she wasn't falling for the same bait as all the other girls.
"All I'm saying is that I think that's the reason. There may be some other out of this world reason for it other than that, but since I don't know, that's what I'm assuming. I mean, you've even been nicer to people lately. Goku told me you were bringing him food the other day."
"He's a damn cripple, what do you expect? I'm not that cold."
18 only laughed.
"By the way, nice hickey you gave Bulma. I saw her trying to cover it up today (Monday)."
"What the hell are you babbling on about now?" Vegeta grunted. "She specifically told me no hickies, and she got exactly that; no hickies."
"No, I saw it. She was wearing a turtleneck, and it slipped down, and before she could pull it up, I distinctly saw a big red mark on her neck. I think I know what a hickey looks like Vegeta."
"And I think I know that I didn't even go near her neck. Maybe kissed it once or twice, but nothing that could leave a mark. I was damn careful!"
There was a long pause, and then Vegeta grabbed his bowl of macaroni and cheese and threw it across the room. The dishwasher-safe glass shattered on the wall, and shards and macaroni went everywhere.
"What the fuck, Vegeta!" 18 yelled, now ten feet from the table. "That was uncalled for!"
"She's messing around with another guy!" he countered, throwing his fork to the floor as well. When he went to grab his glass, however, 18 stopped him and demanded to know what he was talking about. "Bulma, you moron! She's screwing some other guy! You think I don't know when someone is with more than one person? I do it all the time; I know the signs! And this one is damn obvious!"
"But the only guys she hangs out with are you, Krillin, 17, and maybe Yamcha. And all of them are taken."
"No," he hissed, clenching his teeth and fists. "17 is conveniently single."
"He's all over Maris, what would he be doing with Bulma?"
"Stop defending your useless brother and open your eyes!"
"Fuck you, Vegeta! You don't know what you're talking about! If you stopped being jealous for one second, you'd realize that the reason Bulma is with another guy is because YOU are not giving her what she needs."
"I give her plenty."
"You give her lines and false hopes! Try growing up, then maybe you'd see how much she likes you and how close you are to having her if you'd just stop being the way you always are with girls!"
"If she really wanted me she'd want me as I am!"
"What girl in their right mind would want a relationship with someone whose constantly putting them down? You think girls want to be hit on every five minutes? You think they like arguing about the littlest, stupidest things for your sake? You think they like having to explain to their friends and family why you are they way you are? No, you moron! Open your damn eyes! Bulma is the only girl who could have put up with you for this long and you can't even begin to see what a miracle that is. She could actually love you, and all you're going to do is break her heart."
"Do you really think I'm that cruel?" he snapped.
"Yes," she said coldly, then turned and walked out of the house, leaving Vegeta angry and standing in broken glass and cheesy macaroni.
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(Saturday)
Bulma let out a howling laugh and slapped her knee, fighting to keep her tears back. For the past hour or so, she'd been sitting on Vegeta's living room floor, surrounded by boxes, and laughing wildly. Vegeta, however, was missing from the mix, replaced by the one person he would hate to know she was spending time with: his mother. And not only that, but they'd been searching through all the old Ouji photo albums, and cracking jokes about the absent rock star.
"Oh, that was great," Bulma managed between giggles. "I had no idea what a happy little kid Vegeta was. So much different from the grumpy guy he is now."
"Well," Mrs. Ouji sighed, her laughter subsiding, "you're too young to remember how he was before his father died. Here."
She handed Bulma a small, slightly tattered, photo.
"My Kami," she gasped, staring at the image. It was an old class picture of Vegeta, 17, 18, Goku, and her, Krillin and Chi-Chi. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. Shouldn't she have the same picture, hidden somewhere in an old album? "Look how chubby his face was!" she finally laughed, handing the picture back to Mrs. Ouji. "He's certainly bulked up since then. Not an ounce of fat on that guy."
"Yes, well, with how much time he spends at the gym, I'm surprised he doesn't take up permanent residence there."
"He needs to please his fans, you know."
"Bulma." Mrs. Ouji's voice suddenly dropped and was filled with unmasked concern. "What do you want with my son?"
"Excuse me?" Not only had she thought she heard wrong, but what she thought she heard, suddenly made her very angry. What does she mean, she thought, what do I want with her son?
"I mean, dear, that I don't understand why you'd want to spend time with Vegeta if he's…well…the way he is. He's driven so many beautiful young girls insane with his behavior, and I…I just don't want the same happening to you. You're so strong to keep a romantic distance from my son, but I fear that won't last much longer. I really like you Bulma, and wish you the best, but…just not with Vegeta."
"Is that why you called me?" Bulma asked, stunned at her words. What kind of mother talked about her son that way?
"Yes and no. Yes, I did want to warn you in a way. I know you're smart enough to tell the difference between games and sincerity, but I also know that the heart can sometimes overpower the mind…But I also wanted to get to know you. So many of the girls Vegeta brings home never stop long enough to look at me, let alone say hello. From the moment he brought you here, I knew there was something different about you. You're not letting Vegeta win at his games. You're staying strong…And you're not letting your heart put you in danger."
"What do you mean, not letting?"
"Bulma, sweety," she sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's painfully obvious that you have some feelings for my son. That's another reason I wanted to warn you. I can see your affection for him growing, and I needed to tell you exactly where those feelings might lead you."
"You're supposed to be his mother," Bulma snapped in his defense. Immediately, however, she regretted her words and tried to apologize.
"It's alright. I understand how my behavior might seem, but I can't ignore my son's foolishness any longer. Too many innocent girls have been hurt because of him, and I can't sit by and let yet another fall through the cracks…I know a mother is supposed to help and support her own child, but I don't think Vegeta can be helped. But you, Bulma, you can prevent yourself from even being close to being hurt. You can stop the games he's playing. You can stay strong because you know what he'll do."
"And what makes you think he'll do the same as he did with all the rest?"
"Because, dear, it's exactly like you said…the same as all the rest…All the rest! Don't you see? He's hurt so many that one more person, no matter how great, is nothing to him."
"So first I'm a toy, and now I'm nothing?" Bulma hissed, jumping to her feet. "Forgive me, Mrs. Ouji, but I think you need to have some faith in your own flesh and blood. Can't you see that he's hurting over the loss of his father? People do strange and stupid things in their grief, and I don't think this case is any different. He hasn't found any closure with his father's death, and until he does, he's going to continue acting the way he does. Maybe, instead of warning me and other girls about your son, you should try to help him get over his demons. Until he does, he's going to be the same, and he's going to continue to resent you."
"Don't you think I've tried that!?" Mrs. Ouji cried, now standing and clinging to Bulma's arm. "I've tried everything to help my son, and I can't! That, and only that, is the reason I can say he's hopeless and focus on helping the people he hurts. What kind of a mother would I be if I abandoned him like that?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Ouji," Bulma sighed, pulling her into a compassionate hug. "I…I guess I like Vegeta more than I thought…"
"I know dear…And that's why I'm trying to help you."
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"Hey Vegeta," Bulma said as she entered his room. Only moments before, he'd come home, saw her and his mother in the living room, and stormed up to his room, shooting off various nasty curses. "What's up? Have a bad day or something?"
He didn't even look at her, just continued to read the Anzai book in his lap.
"Come on. I'm sorry we haven't hung out all week, but I'm busy with school," she said, taking a seat on the bed beside him. "Besides, you haven't called me either. You have no reason to be angry."
"Did it ever occur to you, woman, that I'm not so childish as to be mad over something so trivial?"
"Then what's bothering you?"
"You," he snapped. He climbed off the bed and threw down his book, nearly hitting Bulma with it in the process. "Get the hell out of my room, and do NOT call me!"
"Excuse me? What the hell did I do to you?"
"Nothing you did," he laughed. "No. You, Princess of Capsule Corp., are always innocent, right? Just like Anzai's damn princesses! They're always innocent! They never hurt a soul! They're pure and good and fucking holy! Just like you!"
"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, now standing as close to him as she thought wise. "I don't know what's got you so angry, but I think I have a right to know before I get railed like this. What did I do?"
"What?" he asked maliciously. "Or who? Yes, that might work as well. And, as far as my mother is concerned, she's just as horrid as ever, and a perfect friend for you!"
"You're mad because I'm spending time with your mother!?" She'd completely forgotten the first part of his accusations. "Oh, now that's rich. So what, I'm not allowed to talk to the people you don't like? She's your mother for Kami's sake, Vegeta! You have no reason to hate her the way you do!"
"No reason!?" he boomed, taking a step forward. Bulma would have flinched, if she hadn't been so angry. "No reason!? I have plenty of reasons to loathe her! And talking to you only adds to the list."
"She's not the reason your father is dead, Vegeta." Big mistake. "You need to stop blaming her for that."
Without thinking, Vegeta tackled Bulma to the bed and held her wrists in his vice grip of a grasp. His weight was pressed entirely on top of her stomach and she could barely breathe, let alone yell for him to stop. But, as she looked up into his fiery eyes, she suddenly stopped struggling and shrunk back. Never in her life, had she ever been afraid of men the way a woman is always thought she should. But now, as his cold stare seemed to penetrate her soul, an uncontrollable shudder ran through her and for the first time in her life, she was truly afraid of a man's strength.
"If you EVER mention my father again, I will not hesitate to show you exactly how I feel about you, you worthless bitch!" He tightened his grip on her wrists and his knees seemed to bore into her sides like knives. "You didn't know him and you have no right even thinking about him! He was the only person I ever trusted and your degrading words are not what he deserves!"
She went to speak, possibly defend herself, but the words stopped just short of her lips. A small gasp is all that escaped.
"What?" he demanded, lifting himself slightly. He was positively shaking with rage.
"And why do I deserve this?" she whispered, straining her neck.
"Because—" But he stopped short, as the realization of his actions finally sunk in. Slowly, he eased himself off of Bulma and off the bed, only to collapse on the floor. With no thoughts for herself, Bulma ran to his side and pulled him against her.
"I know it hurts to lose someone," she whispered. She kissed his forehead lovingly. "But you need to find another way to let your anger out. Hurting everyone around isn't going to stop you from hurting."
"What do you know?" he snapped, turning his head away. But Bulma had seen the tears straining to break free, and opted not to tell him she did.
"I've been doing the same thing," she sighed. "Ever since Yamcha's parents died, I've been trying to find a way to stop hurting. I think fighting with you, and some of the fights I got into at school this year, were ways of trying to replace that hurt with something else. I know now that I was just being stupid. The only thing that can help me is time…and it's the only thing that can help you too. That and forgiving your mother."
"She doesn't deserve—"
"She deserves it the most," Bulma insisted, then gave way to kissing his forehead, and cheeks, and eyes, until finally he grabbed her arms and gently eased her on her back, his mouth covering hers. Slowly, cautiously, he inched his hand under her shirt and gently grasped then massaged one of her breasts. And, before either of them knew it, Bulma's shirt lay crumpled on the floor beside them, soon to be joined by her lacey purple bra. From her neck, Vegeta continued down Bulma's chest until he reached her left breast and his mouth found her hard round nipple. His other hand found her right one, his fingers teasing the small fleshy pebble expertly.
Bulma let out a satisfied moan, her hands digging into his wild hair. But, as soon as his hand began to wander closer towards Bulma's midsection, she jumped back and covered her naked chest with her arms.
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling on her shirt. Her bra was forgotten in her haste. "I…I can't do this…Not with you Vegeta…I'm sorry."
"Whatever," he grumbled, then stood, grabbed his fallen Anzai book off the floor, and settled back on his bed to continue reading like nothing happened. Outraged, and completely embarrassed, Bulma hissed a few choice curses, then stomped out of his room, leaving her bra on the floor as an accidental souvenir.
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Bulma, Chi-Chi, Krillin, Maris, 17, 18, and Goku all sat in Bulma's living room, watching old cartoons, that were beginning to cycle out of the Thanksgiving theme, and move more towards Christmas. The Thanksgiving Holdiday hadn't been at all what Bulma was expecting, what with her mother inviting all of her friends, old and new, to come have dinner at Capsule Corp. All but Vegeta accepted the invitation.
Now, on this drowsy day in mid-December, Bulma felt almost alone in a room full of people. Since her last encounter with Vegeta, she'd only seen him a few times, but always in the company of his band mates, and never did he even try to talk to her. Eventually, Bulma broke down and told the others what happened and they assured her that Vegeta's distance was due to his embarrassment of the situation. It was hard for him to accept the fact that she wasn't like the other girls and didn't just want him in bed. When she refused him, it took a hard hit on his ego, something he considered sacred.
"What now?" Krillin groaned, his arm loosely draped over 18 and Bulma's shoulders. "We've been on Christmas vacation for a week now, and we're already bored."
"What do you want to do, Krill?" Bulma snapped playfully, pushing all thoughts of Vegeta from her mind. "You want to go Christmas shopping? Get hounded by all the crazy shoppers?"
"No," he sighed. The group had decided, that with the mobs of Christmas shoppers, that they'd wait and exchange Secret Santa presents on New Year's Eve. The only shopping any of them did was for family members, but it seemed they were all finished. Vegeta, unwillingly, was thrown into the Secret Santa hat, and ended up pulling out Bulma's name. She, however, pulled 17's name. The ballots were secret, though everyone could tell who Vegeta ended up with. That was the last time Bulma had seen him.
"Well—" But, just as Bulma began speaking, the telephone rang on the side table next to her. She gave a weak laugh, then answered it with, "Merry Christmas Capsule Corp. Customer. How may I help you?" This was of course a joke, for all the phones in the housing area were separate from those of the company.
"Pack your bags," came Vegeta's unmistakenable voice.
"Come again?" Surely she'd heard wrong.
"I said, pack your bags, woman."
"Where the hell do you think I'm going?"
"Europe."
And before she could answer, he'd already hung up the phone.
"What was that all about?" 18 asked, eyeing the phone almost suspiciously.
"I…I honestly don't know…"
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---Chapter 20! What? Europe? What the hell is he thinking? I can't even begin to wonder what he's doing!—Oh wait! Yes I can :P But I'm not telling!!!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) More Chapters=Extremely happy Marci :D
Next time: Find out what Vegeta hit his head on to think Buma will go with him to Europe…LOL! :P
P.S. I really, really, really, really, really, really hope everyone is enjoying this fic. I've out a lot into it and I think it's going alright. But it's what my readers think that matters, so I hope everyone likes it as much as I do. Questions and comments are always welcome :)