Last time:
"Someday."
"I sure fucking hope so."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Taisho relaxed on the living room couch, the low hum of the radio in the background, as he read a book, perched on his chest. It was a perfect autumn day; not too cold, and just sunny enough that everyone wanted to be outside. The leaves were well into their yearly cycle, the crisp reds, yellows, and oranges dotting the trees, and falling to the ground with a ballerina's grace.
It was the perfect day.
Well, almost perfect.
Taisho sat up suddenly as he felt the presence of someone in the room. Without looking, he knew exactly who it was, who it had to be.
"Going somewhere, Vegeta?" he asked, turning to him.
"Not that it's any of your business," Vegeta sneered back. "But yes. Do I need your approval, cousin?"
"When are you coming back?"
"Are we playing twenty questions? Or do you just enjoy pissing me off?"
"Bulma's coming over tonight. I don't want anything to make her uncomfortable."
"Thanks for the warning," he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are getting awfully close," he commented, leaning on the doorframe. "What's Ayano make of all this?"
"She trusts me," he said firmly. "And I don't love Bulma that way."
"You don't LOVE her that way?" he laughed. "Interesting way of putting it."
"I thought you were going somewhere." Taisho pulled himself from the couch, setting his book on the coffee table.
"I was, but then someone had to ask me a million and one inane questions about someone I couldn't give two shits about…Are we done?"
Taisho eyed him like a predator hunting its prey. He'd never really gotten along with Vegeta very well, but ever since Bulma came to visit, there had been this unspoken, fiery hatred between them. Neither could explain it, though neither cared and were content with letting it build. One day they would both break, but not today.
"We've been done," Taisho finally spat, pushing past him and up the stairs.
Vegeta shook his head, letting out a quiet chuckle.
"If you only knew."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Vegeta sat up quickly, grabbed for his Jai-Alai cesta and ball, the equipment used in the only sport he felt was worthy enough to play, and peered into the darkness. Across the room he saw a figure standing in the doorway, long hair frame the face that was only barely outlined by the moonlight.
"It's only me," whispered a familiar and soothing voice.
He sighed deeply, set down his weapon, and climbed out of bed.
"What time is it?" he whispered almost angrily, as he approached her, careful not to trip over anything he might have left out.
"Almost two," she said, annoyance evident in her voice. "Me and Tai talked for a long time, and I wanted to wait at least an hour being attempting to come in here." Quietly, she turned and closed the door, locking it with a soft click. "I love your brother to death, but kami, all I could think about was y—"
But before she could finish the last word, he had his arms around her, pressing her as close to himself as he could without hurting her, his kisses urgent and passion-filled. She met his need effortlessly, her hands roaming his entire body, unable to settle in one place.
"We can't get away with this forever," she breathed, his lips now suckling at the tender flesh of her neck and collarbone.
"Then let's enjoy the time we have," he said, his characteristic smirk curling his lip upward.
"Oh Kami," she moaned, arching her back. He collected her tenderly in his arms and carried her to his bed, laying her down as if she were breakable. Immediately, she pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, her fingers working almost nervously to undo his belt.
"Slow down," he laughed softly, kissing her moist forehead. "I've waited too long for this moment to let it end so quickly."
She nodded in agreement, kissing him feverishly.
"Can you believe this is really happening?" she whispered, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "A month ago I was dreaming of this, and now it's real…Tell me it's real!" she all but whimpered, thrusting her hips.
"Woman," he sighed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor. "This is the most real I've felt my entire life…But you will always be worthy of my dreams," he said huskily, leaning down to press hot kisses into her heaving breasts.
Slowly, she lifted her head to place a hard kiss on his warm forehead, as her hands worked to pull off his pajama bottoms, the only clothing he was wearing. When they were finally fully undressed, the world went into slow motion. For a long while, they simply stared into each other's eyes, as if confirming the existence of the other, and swelling with happiness and excitement when they knew without a doubt that they were where they'd always wanted to be. It was real; it was destiny.
"I'm guessing you're not a virgin," Vegeta said, positioning himself so not to crush her. She only laughed, tugging at his lips with her own. Then she gave way to nibbling, in an effort to urge him on. He obliged, making sure his lips were tight with hers, before pushing slow, but hard into her. A soft moan escaped her mouth and entered his, muffling it from unwanted listeners. She turned her head to the side, resting her cheek on his shoulder; she had to bite her bottom lip, almost to the point of drawing blood, just to keep from crying out.
But then it all went horribly wrong.
As his thrusts grew faster, his urgency more aggressive, Bulma's mind began to bulge and project unwanted images. Takao's face loomed over her, and the more she tried to push it away, the more vivid it became, until she couldn't bear it. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, and instead of trying to hold back moans, she was desperately fighting to keep from sobbing. But, inevitably, Vegeta looked down at her, shocked still when he saw her tears.
"Bulma," he whispered, kissing her cheeks frantically. "It's me. It's Vegeta."
"I know," she cried softly, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. "But I can't get him out of my head…Vegeta," she sniffed. "I need help…I can't do this alone…"
All he could do in that moment was hold her. Hold her and pray that he could find the help she needed, that he could somehow help her too.
"Don't leave me tonight," she whispered as he slid off her, pulling her to his chest.
"I won't," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "Just sleep. I'll make sure you're back in the guestroom before anyone wakes up."
"You're too good to me," she sighed, her eyes closing against her will. He waited until she was fast asleep before he attempted to move. He slipped out of bed without disturbing her in the least, and fumbled in the dark until he reached his desk, where he booted up his computer, and searched the net until the break of dawn for anything that could cure his secret girlfriend.
He was both successful and unsuccessful in his search, and, with a heavy sigh, turned off his computer and brought Bulma back into the guestroom so not to cause an uproar.
"I won't let you down," he whispered angrily, his back against the guestroom door.
Inside, Bulma was wide-awake, her eyes fixed on the barely lighted door.
"I know you won't," she answered, knowing he couldn't hear her, and hugged a pillow to her chest. "But I know I will…"
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Chi-Chi let her pen drop from her mouth, making a quiet thump sound as it hit the open book in her lap. 18 sat, legs crossed, opposite her, her face held in perfect calm. But, then again, her blonde friend could almost always appear calm in even the most extreme of situations.
But Chi-Chi could see in her clear blue eyes that she was beginning to falter, that at this point in time what she wanted was more important then remaining stone cold. And suddenly, though it was expected, 18's lips sank into a deep frown and she averted her eyes.
"I can't stop you," Chi-Chi finally said, picking up her pen and placing it behind her ear. "I don't understand, though. You were more angry than me."
"I know," 18 sighed, moving her head from side to side in a contemplative gesture. "It's just…I don't know. I can't forget how close we used to be, and how…devastated she looked when I was yelling at her…Chi, I think something happened to her and she's not telling us. I talked to Taisho the other day, and he said he sees it too."
"You think she can justify leaving us with a sappy love story? Isn't that what she started to tell us a month and a half ago? I'm sorry, but a boyfriend would never keep me from my friends."
"I don't think it's that simple, Chi-Chi. I think she was forced to stay in Watanabe City."
"Forced," Chi-Chi repeated, trying to imagine someone who could keep Bulma Briefs against her will successfully. "I highly doubt it, 18. She was all smiles when she came back. I think she realized how bad she screwed up and regrets it, which she should. We were nothing but good to her and she turned her back on us."
"Will you hate me if I call her? Just to talk, maybe."
"Like I said," she said, turning her attention back to her homework, "I can't stop you."
"And you don't want to?"
She thought for a long while, then looked up and firmly said, "No. And I don't know if I ever will."
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Piercing glares followed Bulma's hand as she reached into her pocket to answer her ringing cellular phone; she could have sworn she'd turned it off.
"Sorry," she said nervously, avoiding the director's eyes. "This better be good," she all but hissed at the person on the other line. "I'm in the middle of a scene."
"Kuso," came a familiar female voice. And the line went dead.
Bulma cursed under her breath, made sure her phone was now off, and slipped it back into her pocket.
"Was it important enough to interrupt?" the director asked haughtily.
"Obviously not," Bulma snapped back. "They hung up."
"Yes, well, maybe next time you'll respect me and your fellow actors and keep that damn thing off."
"Maybe I will."
"Whatever," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "On with the damn scene." She flicked her wrist in command, and the scene was in motion.
An hour later, angry and warn out, Bulma climbed into her car and turned on her cell phone. She quickly punched the right sequence of buttons to bring up caller ID. At first, she didn't recognize the phone number that had called an hour ago, but, slowly, the numbers were realized and she let out a small gasp.
It was 18.
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"Ok 17," 18 groaned as she answered the phone. "You're at his house. Now go have sex."
"18?" came a feminine voice, almost startling her.
"B-Bulma?"
"Yeah…"
"Kuso. I'm sorry. I thought you were 17. He called twice in five minutes, and—"
"It's ok," Bulma said, trying to remain calm. Finally, finally they were beginning to reach out to her. But at the same time she realized that it was only 18 who was contacting her; no one else cared. "You called me before?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that. I called your house and your dad said you were at work, but that you should be on your way home, so I called. I didn't mean to interrupt anything."
"It's my fault. I should have had my phone off. Don't worry about it."
And then calm the silence; that long, agonizing silence in which your thoughts are spiraling out of control and the only thing you can focus on is the faint breathing of the person on the other line. Several times both girls tried to push words from their mouths, but it seemed they were temporarily mute.
"Bulma, I'm so—"
"Please forgi—"
A shorter silence followed this time, and it was 18 who finally spoke a clear message.
"I can't stand not having you around anymore," she whispered. "I'm sorry I got so angry, and I forgive you for not coming back. I know you have your reasons, but if you don't want to tell me that's fine."
"I don't deserve this," Bulma sighed.
"I think I should be the judge of that. And I don't want to be mad anymore."
"Fair enough," she said, still extremely uneasy, but also a pulsating excitement coursed through her, and the first thing that came to mind was that she wanted to tell her everything; about her job, about her mess with Takao, and her two-week-old relationship with Vegeta. But, of course, none of this was possible; not right now anyway, not in their first civil conversation in years.
"Are you going to be in town anytime soon?" 18 asked, breaking Bulma's train of thought.
"Do you want me there?" She regretted her words the moment they left her lips, and tried to apologize.
"Of course I do," 18 laughed. "When aren't you busy?"
"Two weeks," she said after a moment. "I get a break from filming Friday through Monday…I…could come up then, maybe."
"I think that would be great." She was about to say good-bye, when a thought occurred to her, one she knew had occurred to Bulma as well. "Don't worry. I'll talk to Chi-Chi. She's just…"
"I know. I understand completely. Just try to let her see how much you guys mean to me. And, if its not too much trouble, could you talk to Goku and Krillin too. I know I don't know Krillin all that well, but he's important to you, and I just want to make amends with everyone."
"And Vegeta?"
The pang of guilt struck her so hard she was sure 18 sensed her sudden nervousness, that had all but vanished over that last few minutes. But it was back now, and her heart was pumping.
"I…I'll deal with Vegeta on my own."
"Fair enough. He is the most stubborn," she laughed.
"Yeah," Bulma said, trying to force some laughter, and this time her on-edge-vibe didn't no unnoticed.
"You ok? You sound…troubled."
"Nothing, really…It's just never going to be easy talking about him, you know?"
"Unfortunately I do…Kuso. I have a beep, and I should get going anyway. Call me before you come, ok?"
"Of course."
"Stupid 17. He's probably calling me again."
"Kami, 17," Bulma sighed. "How is he, anyway?"
"B, I—"
"Sorry. I know. The beep. I'll talk to you later."
"Great."
"Bye."
"See ya."
Neither girl could keep from smiling for the remainder of the day.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Fuck," Vegeta groaned, rolling his eyes. "Are you serious?"
"Yes, Vegeta," Bulma snapped. Why was he being such a pain about this? "What's wrong with that?"
"What's wrong is that now that you're buddying up with 18 again, you'll spend time with her AND my no good cousin. Then where are we?"
"I don't have the time or energy to deal with this right now Vegeta. I have lines to memorize, contracts to go over, and publicity crap to deal with. This is the least of my worries." And with that she hung up the phone, leaving him angry and confused.
He had her, she was his now, but was it even worth it?
In Watanabe City, Bulma threw her script across the room, screaming angrily that it was a stupid, half-brained, kindergarten story. But she knew, even if she was too stubborn to admit it, that she had wronged Vegeta. Of course he wasn't going to take that well; they had limited time together as it was, and, with the sneaking around, their time was cut significantly.
She took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed his number. After four rings he answered. He was obviously still angry.
"I'm sorry, Vegeta," she sighed. "I just have a lot on my plate right now. I guess I was hoping you'd take it better, but you can't expect me to not see 18. I care about her too much."
"I know," he said after a long while. "Next time don't be such a bitch."
"Will do," she laughed. "I love you, Vegeta."
"Bye woman."
"Bye 'Geta."
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---Chapter 7!! :D Ok, so I know not a whole lot happened in this chapter, but hey! Bulma and 18 are friends again, or well on their way, so that's a plus :) Oh yeah! And they had sex, duh! How could I forget that? :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ReviewsMore Chapters)
Next time: MORE FUN! :D
"Someday."
"I sure fucking hope so."
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Taisho relaxed on the living room couch, the low hum of the radio in the background, as he read a book, perched on his chest. It was a perfect autumn day; not too cold, and just sunny enough that everyone wanted to be outside. The leaves were well into their yearly cycle, the crisp reds, yellows, and oranges dotting the trees, and falling to the ground with a ballerina's grace.
It was the perfect day.
Well, almost perfect.
Taisho sat up suddenly as he felt the presence of someone in the room. Without looking, he knew exactly who it was, who it had to be.
"Going somewhere, Vegeta?" he asked, turning to him.
"Not that it's any of your business," Vegeta sneered back. "But yes. Do I need your approval, cousin?"
"When are you coming back?"
"Are we playing twenty questions? Or do you just enjoy pissing me off?"
"Bulma's coming over tonight. I don't want anything to make her uncomfortable."
"Thanks for the warning," he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are getting awfully close," he commented, leaning on the doorframe. "What's Ayano make of all this?"
"She trusts me," he said firmly. "And I don't love Bulma that way."
"You don't LOVE her that way?" he laughed. "Interesting way of putting it."
"I thought you were going somewhere." Taisho pulled himself from the couch, setting his book on the coffee table.
"I was, but then someone had to ask me a million and one inane questions about someone I couldn't give two shits about…Are we done?"
Taisho eyed him like a predator hunting its prey. He'd never really gotten along with Vegeta very well, but ever since Bulma came to visit, there had been this unspoken, fiery hatred between them. Neither could explain it, though neither cared and were content with letting it build. One day they would both break, but not today.
"We've been done," Taisho finally spat, pushing past him and up the stairs.
Vegeta shook his head, letting out a quiet chuckle.
"If you only knew."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Vegeta sat up quickly, grabbed for his Jai-Alai cesta and ball, the equipment used in the only sport he felt was worthy enough to play, and peered into the darkness. Across the room he saw a figure standing in the doorway, long hair frame the face that was only barely outlined by the moonlight.
"It's only me," whispered a familiar and soothing voice.
He sighed deeply, set down his weapon, and climbed out of bed.
"What time is it?" he whispered almost angrily, as he approached her, careful not to trip over anything he might have left out.
"Almost two," she said, annoyance evident in her voice. "Me and Tai talked for a long time, and I wanted to wait at least an hour being attempting to come in here." Quietly, she turned and closed the door, locking it with a soft click. "I love your brother to death, but kami, all I could think about was y—"
But before she could finish the last word, he had his arms around her, pressing her as close to himself as he could without hurting her, his kisses urgent and passion-filled. She met his need effortlessly, her hands roaming his entire body, unable to settle in one place.
"We can't get away with this forever," she breathed, his lips now suckling at the tender flesh of her neck and collarbone.
"Then let's enjoy the time we have," he said, his characteristic smirk curling his lip upward.
"Oh Kami," she moaned, arching her back. He collected her tenderly in his arms and carried her to his bed, laying her down as if she were breakable. Immediately, she pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, her fingers working almost nervously to undo his belt.
"Slow down," he laughed softly, kissing her moist forehead. "I've waited too long for this moment to let it end so quickly."
She nodded in agreement, kissing him feverishly.
"Can you believe this is really happening?" she whispered, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "A month ago I was dreaming of this, and now it's real…Tell me it's real!" she all but whimpered, thrusting her hips.
"Woman," he sighed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor. "This is the most real I've felt my entire life…But you will always be worthy of my dreams," he said huskily, leaning down to press hot kisses into her heaving breasts.
Slowly, she lifted her head to place a hard kiss on his warm forehead, as her hands worked to pull off his pajama bottoms, the only clothing he was wearing. When they were finally fully undressed, the world went into slow motion. For a long while, they simply stared into each other's eyes, as if confirming the existence of the other, and swelling with happiness and excitement when they knew without a doubt that they were where they'd always wanted to be. It was real; it was destiny.
"I'm guessing you're not a virgin," Vegeta said, positioning himself so not to crush her. She only laughed, tugging at his lips with her own. Then she gave way to nibbling, in an effort to urge him on. He obliged, making sure his lips were tight with hers, before pushing slow, but hard into her. A soft moan escaped her mouth and entered his, muffling it from unwanted listeners. She turned her head to the side, resting her cheek on his shoulder; she had to bite her bottom lip, almost to the point of drawing blood, just to keep from crying out.
But then it all went horribly wrong.
As his thrusts grew faster, his urgency more aggressive, Bulma's mind began to bulge and project unwanted images. Takao's face loomed over her, and the more she tried to push it away, the more vivid it became, until she couldn't bear it. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, and instead of trying to hold back moans, she was desperately fighting to keep from sobbing. But, inevitably, Vegeta looked down at her, shocked still when he saw her tears.
"Bulma," he whispered, kissing her cheeks frantically. "It's me. It's Vegeta."
"I know," she cried softly, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. "But I can't get him out of my head…Vegeta," she sniffed. "I need help…I can't do this alone…"
All he could do in that moment was hold her. Hold her and pray that he could find the help she needed, that he could somehow help her too.
"Don't leave me tonight," she whispered as he slid off her, pulling her to his chest.
"I won't," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "Just sleep. I'll make sure you're back in the guestroom before anyone wakes up."
"You're too good to me," she sighed, her eyes closing against her will. He waited until she was fast asleep before he attempted to move. He slipped out of bed without disturbing her in the least, and fumbled in the dark until he reached his desk, where he booted up his computer, and searched the net until the break of dawn for anything that could cure his secret girlfriend.
He was both successful and unsuccessful in his search, and, with a heavy sigh, turned off his computer and brought Bulma back into the guestroom so not to cause an uproar.
"I won't let you down," he whispered angrily, his back against the guestroom door.
Inside, Bulma was wide-awake, her eyes fixed on the barely lighted door.
"I know you won't," she answered, knowing he couldn't hear her, and hugged a pillow to her chest. "But I know I will…"
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Chi-Chi let her pen drop from her mouth, making a quiet thump sound as it hit the open book in her lap. 18 sat, legs crossed, opposite her, her face held in perfect calm. But, then again, her blonde friend could almost always appear calm in even the most extreme of situations.
But Chi-Chi could see in her clear blue eyes that she was beginning to falter, that at this point in time what she wanted was more important then remaining stone cold. And suddenly, though it was expected, 18's lips sank into a deep frown and she averted her eyes.
"I can't stop you," Chi-Chi finally said, picking up her pen and placing it behind her ear. "I don't understand, though. You were more angry than me."
"I know," 18 sighed, moving her head from side to side in a contemplative gesture. "It's just…I don't know. I can't forget how close we used to be, and how…devastated she looked when I was yelling at her…Chi, I think something happened to her and she's not telling us. I talked to Taisho the other day, and he said he sees it too."
"You think she can justify leaving us with a sappy love story? Isn't that what she started to tell us a month and a half ago? I'm sorry, but a boyfriend would never keep me from my friends."
"I don't think it's that simple, Chi-Chi. I think she was forced to stay in Watanabe City."
"Forced," Chi-Chi repeated, trying to imagine someone who could keep Bulma Briefs against her will successfully. "I highly doubt it, 18. She was all smiles when she came back. I think she realized how bad she screwed up and regrets it, which she should. We were nothing but good to her and she turned her back on us."
"Will you hate me if I call her? Just to talk, maybe."
"Like I said," she said, turning her attention back to her homework, "I can't stop you."
"And you don't want to?"
She thought for a long while, then looked up and firmly said, "No. And I don't know if I ever will."
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Piercing glares followed Bulma's hand as she reached into her pocket to answer her ringing cellular phone; she could have sworn she'd turned it off.
"Sorry," she said nervously, avoiding the director's eyes. "This better be good," she all but hissed at the person on the other line. "I'm in the middle of a scene."
"Kuso," came a familiar female voice. And the line went dead.
Bulma cursed under her breath, made sure her phone was now off, and slipped it back into her pocket.
"Was it important enough to interrupt?" the director asked haughtily.
"Obviously not," Bulma snapped back. "They hung up."
"Yes, well, maybe next time you'll respect me and your fellow actors and keep that damn thing off."
"Maybe I will."
"Whatever," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "On with the damn scene." She flicked her wrist in command, and the scene was in motion.
An hour later, angry and warn out, Bulma climbed into her car and turned on her cell phone. She quickly punched the right sequence of buttons to bring up caller ID. At first, she didn't recognize the phone number that had called an hour ago, but, slowly, the numbers were realized and she let out a small gasp.
It was 18.
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"Ok 17," 18 groaned as she answered the phone. "You're at his house. Now go have sex."
"18?" came a feminine voice, almost startling her.
"B-Bulma?"
"Yeah…"
"Kuso. I'm sorry. I thought you were 17. He called twice in five minutes, and—"
"It's ok," Bulma said, trying to remain calm. Finally, finally they were beginning to reach out to her. But at the same time she realized that it was only 18 who was contacting her; no one else cared. "You called me before?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that. I called your house and your dad said you were at work, but that you should be on your way home, so I called. I didn't mean to interrupt anything."
"It's my fault. I should have had my phone off. Don't worry about it."
And then calm the silence; that long, agonizing silence in which your thoughts are spiraling out of control and the only thing you can focus on is the faint breathing of the person on the other line. Several times both girls tried to push words from their mouths, but it seemed they were temporarily mute.
"Bulma, I'm so—"
"Please forgi—"
A shorter silence followed this time, and it was 18 who finally spoke a clear message.
"I can't stand not having you around anymore," she whispered. "I'm sorry I got so angry, and I forgive you for not coming back. I know you have your reasons, but if you don't want to tell me that's fine."
"I don't deserve this," Bulma sighed.
"I think I should be the judge of that. And I don't want to be mad anymore."
"Fair enough," she said, still extremely uneasy, but also a pulsating excitement coursed through her, and the first thing that came to mind was that she wanted to tell her everything; about her job, about her mess with Takao, and her two-week-old relationship with Vegeta. But, of course, none of this was possible; not right now anyway, not in their first civil conversation in years.
"Are you going to be in town anytime soon?" 18 asked, breaking Bulma's train of thought.
"Do you want me there?" She regretted her words the moment they left her lips, and tried to apologize.
"Of course I do," 18 laughed. "When aren't you busy?"
"Two weeks," she said after a moment. "I get a break from filming Friday through Monday…I…could come up then, maybe."
"I think that would be great." She was about to say good-bye, when a thought occurred to her, one she knew had occurred to Bulma as well. "Don't worry. I'll talk to Chi-Chi. She's just…"
"I know. I understand completely. Just try to let her see how much you guys mean to me. And, if its not too much trouble, could you talk to Goku and Krillin too. I know I don't know Krillin all that well, but he's important to you, and I just want to make amends with everyone."
"And Vegeta?"
The pang of guilt struck her so hard she was sure 18 sensed her sudden nervousness, that had all but vanished over that last few minutes. But it was back now, and her heart was pumping.
"I…I'll deal with Vegeta on my own."
"Fair enough. He is the most stubborn," she laughed.
"Yeah," Bulma said, trying to force some laughter, and this time her on-edge-vibe didn't no unnoticed.
"You ok? You sound…troubled."
"Nothing, really…It's just never going to be easy talking about him, you know?"
"Unfortunately I do…Kuso. I have a beep, and I should get going anyway. Call me before you come, ok?"
"Of course."
"Stupid 17. He's probably calling me again."
"Kami, 17," Bulma sighed. "How is he, anyway?"
"B, I—"
"Sorry. I know. The beep. I'll talk to you later."
"Great."
"Bye."
"See ya."
Neither girl could keep from smiling for the remainder of the day.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Fuck," Vegeta groaned, rolling his eyes. "Are you serious?"
"Yes, Vegeta," Bulma snapped. Why was he being such a pain about this? "What's wrong with that?"
"What's wrong is that now that you're buddying up with 18 again, you'll spend time with her AND my no good cousin. Then where are we?"
"I don't have the time or energy to deal with this right now Vegeta. I have lines to memorize, contracts to go over, and publicity crap to deal with. This is the least of my worries." And with that she hung up the phone, leaving him angry and confused.
He had her, she was his now, but was it even worth it?
In Watanabe City, Bulma threw her script across the room, screaming angrily that it was a stupid, half-brained, kindergarten story. But she knew, even if she was too stubborn to admit it, that she had wronged Vegeta. Of course he wasn't going to take that well; they had limited time together as it was, and, with the sneaking around, their time was cut significantly.
She took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed his number. After four rings he answered. He was obviously still angry.
"I'm sorry, Vegeta," she sighed. "I just have a lot on my plate right now. I guess I was hoping you'd take it better, but you can't expect me to not see 18. I care about her too much."
"I know," he said after a long while. "Next time don't be such a bitch."
"Will do," she laughed. "I love you, Vegeta."
"Bye woman."
"Bye 'Geta."
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---Chapter 7!! :D Ok, so I know not a whole lot happened in this chapter, but hey! Bulma and 18 are friends again, or well on their way, so that's a plus :) Oh yeah! And they had sex, duh! How could I forget that? :P
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Next time: MORE FUN! :D