DBZ? No, I don't own it. Sorry!
First Person POV
Last time:
It took him only minutes to have it disinfected again, and then he left me to sleep after putting everything back.
(But . . . I don't want you to go . . .)
Continuing on:
I fell asleep rather quickly. My dreams were . . . Well, there weren't any. It was just blank with the sound of celestial singing. It scared me half to death, thinking I was dead and it was calling me. I didn't realize I was thrashing out in my sleep, calling for help both mentally and verbally, and sweating. (I don't want to die, I don't want to die! I can't die! I haven't fulfilled my purpose, I haven't had children, and I'm not even married! I don't want to die! Oh, Kami, don't let me die!!)
What I didn't know is that Vegeta had heard me and was trying to wake me up. There was a break in the singing, just a pause, and then Vegeta's voice telling me to clam down.
I jumped in my sleep, and woke up sitting up straight. I was panting and sweat was dripping off of me literally everywhere.
I looked at Vegeta - who seemed more confused than concerned. "What happened?"
I shook my head, not even noticing I had strength back. I didn't want to tell him.
He shook me lightly. "Why won't you tell me? I can't help if - " He stopped, blinking, as though appalled at what he just said. (Why did I say that? I shouldn't be caring about helping some weak, pathetic, sick human woman.)
He got up and left without another word, leaving me to wonder about what he had just said. (* Help * me? Since WHEN? And WHY?) I shook my head, not wanting to even know the answer my mind might come up with. (All he needs me for is food and that Gravity Room.) I sighed at the truth of my own words, not really wanting to believe them. (No, I've got to be worth more than * that *. We've been living together for a year and a half; he's got to feel * something * for me by now.)
I got up, wanting to go to the bathroom, but abruptly collapsed and passed out.
When I awoke again it was to a cool washcloth on my forehead, Vegeta mumbling about 'baka onnas' and to the feel of my bed beneath me. (Again with the moving? I can't even go to the bathroom without ending up in bed!)
I moaned and moved my head slowly from side-to-side.
"I see you finally woke up," Vegeta said. (No shit Sherlock! What gave you your first clue?!)
He took the washcloth off my head and felt my fever again. "It's going down. Slowly, but it's still going down. I suggest more rest."
I scoffed at him and tried to sit up, purposely defying him. The problem was that he * wasn't * suggesting, but rather, ordering. He pushed me back down and I heard water, then felt the washcloth on my forehead again, newly cooled.
Before I could reply he was already up and walking to the door. I was torn at this point: I wanted to yell at him for thinking I can't beat an illness by myself, I wanted to ask him to come back and sit with me, and I wanted him to just talk to me so I could be sure I wasn't alone. He stopped before he closed the door, though.
"When are your parents coming back?"
"What time is it?"
"About 11:40 in the morning."
"They'll be back at eight."
Vegeta's eyes went large. "At night?!"
"P.m. Yes."
"Damn it!" He left then, slightly slamming the door as he * just * remembered his own strength.
I sighed and lifted my arm, amazed at how fast my strength was recovering, and felt the washcloth. I frowned, noticing how odd it felt. I opened my eyes and looked at it - once I REMOVED it, dim people - and stared at it.
It looked like some kind of bandana, but not mine, and I know for a fact my Father doesn't have one, and my Mother * wouldn't * have one - she hated them. So where did Vegeta find this? My eyes widened as I fully recognized it. He didn't FIND it; it was his! I remember seeing him with it on his leg before, where he had cut himself while training. In fact, he wore it over his cuts so often it was permanently stained red. I couldn't believe this! He told me before never to touch it - he only * barely * let Mom wash it with the rest of his clothes! So why in Hell would he purposely put it on me? It's not like he didn't know where rags were - he's gotten a ton of those before. [He refuses to take a shower using a rag someone else used after it was washed.]
My thoughts were cut off when the phone rang. I groaned loudly at how the sound hurt my ears. I only just then realized how bad of a headache I had. (I must've hit my head when I passed out.) I reached for the phone - cursing my parents up and down about letting me put a phone in my room - and answered it.
"Hello?" I didn't have to fake sounding sick; I was.
"Bulma? Are you alright?"
Yamcha. Great. "Not really, Yamcha. Why'd you call?"
"I thought you said you'd meet me today. I guess now I know why you didn't show."
"Ooh, right! I'm sorry, Yamcha. I'm really sick right now."
"Really? What happened?"
"I accidentally cut myself and it got infected."
"Ouch. You going to be alright babe?"
Without meaning to I moaned. "I hope so. Vegeta says I'm getting better fast."
"Vegeta?!"
Uh-oh. That was a big mistake. "Please, Yamcha, calm down. I have a headache and yelling isn't helping."
"You mean to tell me Vegeta's been touching you?" he almost yelled. I could tell he was talking through clenched teeth to keep from screaming.
"Yes, Yamcha. That kind of happens when one's sick."
"What's he been doing to you?!"
"Nothing bad, Yamcha. Calm down, for the love of Kami. All he did was keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn't die."
"Don't lie to me to save his ass, Bulma. I want to know, now."
I sighed. "Fine. He helped me take a cool bath - " gasp " - helped me get dressed - " growl " - fed me - "curse " - and put me to bed. He hasn't let me get up so far."
"Bastard! How dare he touch my girl?!" He went off ranting as I rolled my eyes.
"At least HE calls me woman!" I slammed the phone on the hook, not wanting to hear what else Yamcha could get jealous over.
The 'Bulma and Yamcha' story has long since been crushed. After a few months of vegeta living with us I was busy with lab work and Vegeta's demands that I couldn't also have time for Yamcha, so I had to break it off. It hurt me that I had to, but even worse when Vegeta threw in my face about how he knew Yamcha had been cheating on me for weeks. I screamed bloody murder at Vegeta and slapped him without thinking, and then ran to my bedroom to try and relax. It didn't take long, surprisingly, and most of it was from knowing I wouldn't be attached to a cheating bastard any longer. I actually thanked Vegeta for telling me the following morning.
Of course, he was surprised I was so happy. He must've figured he'd get more on my nerves to know that my 'mate' hadn't been faithful. It took hours of explaining for Vegeta to understand that we weren't 'mates', but were simply seeing each other as * possible * 'mates'. It took another hour to explain to him that humans didn't 'mate', but got married. He thought it was idiotic and primitive - this coming from a MONKEY man - that humans went through a long ceremony to get married, bound only by a ring, able to be divorced, and with nothing to be faithful by except simple words. He told me that when a Saiyan mates it's for life, and once you mated, you couldn't 'cheat' or have affairs or be in unspeakable pain. I just didn't go into any details at that point. I didn't know how Saiyans 'mated', I didn't entirely understand what he said, and I didn't want to.
Now, though, I DID want to know. I needed something to do, or at least think about. I was bored, in pain, weak and unable to take care of myself. Without meaning to I called for Vegeta.
It took a minute for him to get to my room, making me wonder where he had been. He walked right up to me.
"What is it?"
"Remember when you told me about that whole 'Saiyan mating' stuff?"
He blinked, confused, but said, "Yes."
"Would you explain it to me further?"
He sat down on my bed, an eyebrow raised at me. "Why?"
"I really need something to do, but since I can't get up, I'll just have to stick with thinking. But I've learned nothing new enough to think over, so . . ."
"You need me to give you something to think about," he finished.
I nodded. He smirked, and suddenly I felt a bit frightened. (What is he thinking in that thick skull of his?)
Without warning he leaned over and - KISSED ME?!
He drew back enough to whisper into my ear, "Think about that for a while."
He got up and left, leaving me to stare at the ceiling, my eyes wide, wondering what had possessed him to do THAT.
(Well,) my mind told myself, (you * did * say you needed something to think about. You got it.)
I frowned. "I should be more careful what I wish for."
First Person POV
Last time:
It took him only minutes to have it disinfected again, and then he left me to sleep after putting everything back.
(But . . . I don't want you to go . . .)
Continuing on:
I fell asleep rather quickly. My dreams were . . . Well, there weren't any. It was just blank with the sound of celestial singing. It scared me half to death, thinking I was dead and it was calling me. I didn't realize I was thrashing out in my sleep, calling for help both mentally and verbally, and sweating. (I don't want to die, I don't want to die! I can't die! I haven't fulfilled my purpose, I haven't had children, and I'm not even married! I don't want to die! Oh, Kami, don't let me die!!)
What I didn't know is that Vegeta had heard me and was trying to wake me up. There was a break in the singing, just a pause, and then Vegeta's voice telling me to clam down.
I jumped in my sleep, and woke up sitting up straight. I was panting and sweat was dripping off of me literally everywhere.
I looked at Vegeta - who seemed more confused than concerned. "What happened?"
I shook my head, not even noticing I had strength back. I didn't want to tell him.
He shook me lightly. "Why won't you tell me? I can't help if - " He stopped, blinking, as though appalled at what he just said. (Why did I say that? I shouldn't be caring about helping some weak, pathetic, sick human woman.)
He got up and left without another word, leaving me to wonder about what he had just said. (* Help * me? Since WHEN? And WHY?) I shook my head, not wanting to even know the answer my mind might come up with. (All he needs me for is food and that Gravity Room.) I sighed at the truth of my own words, not really wanting to believe them. (No, I've got to be worth more than * that *. We've been living together for a year and a half; he's got to feel * something * for me by now.)
I got up, wanting to go to the bathroom, but abruptly collapsed and passed out.
When I awoke again it was to a cool washcloth on my forehead, Vegeta mumbling about 'baka onnas' and to the feel of my bed beneath me. (Again with the moving? I can't even go to the bathroom without ending up in bed!)
I moaned and moved my head slowly from side-to-side.
"I see you finally woke up," Vegeta said. (No shit Sherlock! What gave you your first clue?!)
He took the washcloth off my head and felt my fever again. "It's going down. Slowly, but it's still going down. I suggest more rest."
I scoffed at him and tried to sit up, purposely defying him. The problem was that he * wasn't * suggesting, but rather, ordering. He pushed me back down and I heard water, then felt the washcloth on my forehead again, newly cooled.
Before I could reply he was already up and walking to the door. I was torn at this point: I wanted to yell at him for thinking I can't beat an illness by myself, I wanted to ask him to come back and sit with me, and I wanted him to just talk to me so I could be sure I wasn't alone. He stopped before he closed the door, though.
"When are your parents coming back?"
"What time is it?"
"About 11:40 in the morning."
"They'll be back at eight."
Vegeta's eyes went large. "At night?!"
"P.m. Yes."
"Damn it!" He left then, slightly slamming the door as he * just * remembered his own strength.
I sighed and lifted my arm, amazed at how fast my strength was recovering, and felt the washcloth. I frowned, noticing how odd it felt. I opened my eyes and looked at it - once I REMOVED it, dim people - and stared at it.
It looked like some kind of bandana, but not mine, and I know for a fact my Father doesn't have one, and my Mother * wouldn't * have one - she hated them. So where did Vegeta find this? My eyes widened as I fully recognized it. He didn't FIND it; it was his! I remember seeing him with it on his leg before, where he had cut himself while training. In fact, he wore it over his cuts so often it was permanently stained red. I couldn't believe this! He told me before never to touch it - he only * barely * let Mom wash it with the rest of his clothes! So why in Hell would he purposely put it on me? It's not like he didn't know where rags were - he's gotten a ton of those before. [He refuses to take a shower using a rag someone else used after it was washed.]
My thoughts were cut off when the phone rang. I groaned loudly at how the sound hurt my ears. I only just then realized how bad of a headache I had. (I must've hit my head when I passed out.) I reached for the phone - cursing my parents up and down about letting me put a phone in my room - and answered it.
"Hello?" I didn't have to fake sounding sick; I was.
"Bulma? Are you alright?"
Yamcha. Great. "Not really, Yamcha. Why'd you call?"
"I thought you said you'd meet me today. I guess now I know why you didn't show."
"Ooh, right! I'm sorry, Yamcha. I'm really sick right now."
"Really? What happened?"
"I accidentally cut myself and it got infected."
"Ouch. You going to be alright babe?"
Without meaning to I moaned. "I hope so. Vegeta says I'm getting better fast."
"Vegeta?!"
Uh-oh. That was a big mistake. "Please, Yamcha, calm down. I have a headache and yelling isn't helping."
"You mean to tell me Vegeta's been touching you?" he almost yelled. I could tell he was talking through clenched teeth to keep from screaming.
"Yes, Yamcha. That kind of happens when one's sick."
"What's he been doing to you?!"
"Nothing bad, Yamcha. Calm down, for the love of Kami. All he did was keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn't die."
"Don't lie to me to save his ass, Bulma. I want to know, now."
I sighed. "Fine. He helped me take a cool bath - " gasp " - helped me get dressed - " growl " - fed me - "curse " - and put me to bed. He hasn't let me get up so far."
"Bastard! How dare he touch my girl?!" He went off ranting as I rolled my eyes.
"At least HE calls me woman!" I slammed the phone on the hook, not wanting to hear what else Yamcha could get jealous over.
The 'Bulma and Yamcha' story has long since been crushed. After a few months of vegeta living with us I was busy with lab work and Vegeta's demands that I couldn't also have time for Yamcha, so I had to break it off. It hurt me that I had to, but even worse when Vegeta threw in my face about how he knew Yamcha had been cheating on me for weeks. I screamed bloody murder at Vegeta and slapped him without thinking, and then ran to my bedroom to try and relax. It didn't take long, surprisingly, and most of it was from knowing I wouldn't be attached to a cheating bastard any longer. I actually thanked Vegeta for telling me the following morning.
Of course, he was surprised I was so happy. He must've figured he'd get more on my nerves to know that my 'mate' hadn't been faithful. It took hours of explaining for Vegeta to understand that we weren't 'mates', but were simply seeing each other as * possible * 'mates'. It took another hour to explain to him that humans didn't 'mate', but got married. He thought it was idiotic and primitive - this coming from a MONKEY man - that humans went through a long ceremony to get married, bound only by a ring, able to be divorced, and with nothing to be faithful by except simple words. He told me that when a Saiyan mates it's for life, and once you mated, you couldn't 'cheat' or have affairs or be in unspeakable pain. I just didn't go into any details at that point. I didn't know how Saiyans 'mated', I didn't entirely understand what he said, and I didn't want to.
Now, though, I DID want to know. I needed something to do, or at least think about. I was bored, in pain, weak and unable to take care of myself. Without meaning to I called for Vegeta.
It took a minute for him to get to my room, making me wonder where he had been. He walked right up to me.
"What is it?"
"Remember when you told me about that whole 'Saiyan mating' stuff?"
He blinked, confused, but said, "Yes."
"Would you explain it to me further?"
He sat down on my bed, an eyebrow raised at me. "Why?"
"I really need something to do, but since I can't get up, I'll just have to stick with thinking. But I've learned nothing new enough to think over, so . . ."
"You need me to give you something to think about," he finished.
I nodded. He smirked, and suddenly I felt a bit frightened. (What is he thinking in that thick skull of his?)
Without warning he leaned over and - KISSED ME?!
He drew back enough to whisper into my ear, "Think about that for a while."
He got up and left, leaving me to stare at the ceiling, my eyes wide, wondering what had possessed him to do THAT.
(Well,) my mind told myself, (you * did * say you needed something to think about. You got it.)
I frowned. "I should be more careful what I wish for."