By the time eighth period rolled around she was on a caffeine high and was functional for the first time that day. Ignoring her scowling shadow she felt a smile of relief cross her face as she walked into shop class. She had already finished the year's worth of projects, so instead she was using the free time to build herself a custom air bike. Of course her air bike would work on land and underwater as well; she didn't want her project to be too easy.
The frame was complete and she was working to build her various engines. Instead of sitting up, which was possible but not her preference, she designed it to allow her the option of laying on her belly. Not completely horizontal it merely was designed to accommodate her when she leaned forward as she broke the speed zones in every county.
Trading insults and sexual innuendos with the mostly male student populous she looked up from her work only when asked her opinion of something. It hadn't taken long for her mechanical prowess to impress the boys and thus gain their admiration. The teacher knew less than most of the boys and thus let them do as they pleased; most of them took the time to work on their cars, improving them at the expense of the school.
Throughout the entire time she felt his eyes on her, she couldn't guess at what he found to be so riveting. All she was doing was constructing a part to her booster system, her hands were black from grease and oil up to her elbows and she knew her face was smudged as well. A strip of black-violet hair entered her vision and she finished covering the lavender color as she brushed the strands behind her ear.
Reaching to her side for her hammer she soon beet an annoying piece of metal into the shape she needed. When the warning bell rang she hissed in disappointment before locking up her tool box and recapsulizing it. She would be an idiot to leave such a treasure in the school.
When she had closed the metal locker that held her things he watched her rest her head against the cool metal. It took him only a moment to figure that she had fallen asleep. Before he could do anything a sound echoing off the hall jolted her awake. "C'mon Vegeta. I'll go fix your training room now." Her voice was soft and he knew she had used all of her energy to survive the day. When he exited the noisy building he swept her into his arms and took flight, it was a sign of how exhausted she was that she didn't object.
For the first time she wasn't tense against his body. She wasn't fighting his hold or attempting to escape his hold or make sure there was as little contact between them as possible. Glancing down he saw the top of her head, hair partially bound by the strap she used but mostly flying free in the wind. When he landed he learned his reason, she was asleep again, only this time having closed her eyes while in his hold.
Moving for the stairs he opened the door to her room and laid her on the bed and left her to her sleep, whatever she had been doing over the weekend had left her with nothing to give. He would learn of her actions later, but for now he would let her rest. For this once he would let her avoid repairing the gravity chamber, he had deliberately damaged it after all.
Taking in her resting form he wondered about her. None of the other girls had born marks like Bulma did, and their clothes had been more than revealing enough to answer that question. The boys at her school had looked to her with lust, but also fear, the only ones who hadn't been in her last class, the one with the room that reeked of machine oils.
Why did they fear her? She was a snarling cat yes; part of what he enjoyed the most was rubbing her the wrong way. But he was sure that if he could get her to purr she would show just how much of a wildcat she was. He knew she had claws, they were nothing to him but he was sure she had made a scratching post out of plenty of men, like the one that owned the scent that had been on her when she entered earlier in the morning. The pain, fear, and sweat from that male also had permeated her. It made him glad that her soaps were strong enough to rid them and leave her with a scent that was only hers. Other than the odors from her work environment, she didn't use artificial scents. He rather liked it that way.
He came out of his ponderings when she rolled aver and faced away from him. The pillow moved to display one of her weapons. Idly he wondered just how many she had stashed around the house, most importantly her room. They were an extension of her and she was not afraid to use them. He had known too many women to refuse to learn defense, instead choosing to rely on the males of their race for protection, they were often the ones with the worst fates. Unable to protect themselves and unable to think independently, Bulma would sooner maim herself that submit to a fate as those women.
Scowling at his thoughts he left the room. He acknowledged and accepted that he was attracted to the blue beauty. He admired her intellect and he independence, but his emotions were becoming too tender towards her. The thought of another having or even touching her brought his temper to the edge. If he had his way no male and quite a few females would never see her.
The truth was, and he knew it, that if she had been Sayain he would have claimed her as his mate already. Even if she had been a weak Sayain she had strengths to counter her lack of physical strength or power in ki. It made him think, his father only wanted to use the race for the intellect of the Briefs family. Dr. Briefs was doing a miraculously good job of holding up his end of the bargain. But Vegeta was sure that if Bulma were to take an active interest she could create items no others had dreamed of. Instead she merely created training tools that actually challenged him rather than created a mundane presence. Her gravity chamber was genius, she had created something no other had, and her order to him when she delivered it was that if he complained about it she would use the pieces for scrap metal. Her eyes had flared with fire, daring him to insult her creation, he hadn't. He respected her work, though he didn't show it. He liked seeing her riled, he liked the fact that she didn't fear him while still knowing, if only partially, what he was capable of.
She awoke to her screaming alarm, with the butt of the gun from under her mattress she destroyed the noise maker and opened her eyes. Glancing around she took in her room, still being dressed in her clothes from the day before she came to the conclusion that Vegeta had put her to bed. Changing quickly she avoided the halls, instead leaving via her balcony. By the time she had ten minutes to leave she had repaired the gravity room, he hadn't woken her to demand the repairs or a meal. So in turn she repaired the machine and arranged for a breakfast to be delivered on credit.
She didn't enjoy the fact that he had given her a reason to think him anything other than a pain in the ass. She had already come to the annoying conclusion that she was attracted to him. She could really use her family being around, particularly a sister, one who might be able to tell her how to get over whatever was making her think his chest needed to be touched.
Pulling into her parking spot she adjusted her ball cap and joined the crowd of students. They were going on a field trip, they would see the try out for the pro baseball teams. She wasn't sure how this was supposed to be educational but didn't really care; she didn't have to put up with teachers who thought they knew more than they did, about her and their subjects.
The tour of the ball park was dull, things actually looked as if she should have skipped until she saw the last of the try outs. One batter had caught her eye, and the eye of every other female in her group. Once the young male had been called away from the plate she held her hands to her mouth to work like a megaphone and let herself have some fun.
"Yamcha! Next time put your back in to it!" Grinning she saw him turn sharply and take to running, a speed others thought fast but nothing really impressive considering her friends.
"Bulma! Hey what's up?" All the girls were gawking, or glaring, at her."
"Not much, Chi-Chi has poor Goku terrified, she's due anytime this month." The desert bandit blanched. "I recommend staying clear of them until after the birth. He's so 'helpful' that she's ready to kill him." Both of them snickered, hell had no furry like Chi-Chi, it was no wonder he was fearless in battle. His wife was more dangerous and frightening in his mind, she feared for the child they had created.
"Maybe I'll convince him to come out and spar with the rest of us." Bulma beamed at Yamcha's suggestion, kissing his cheek and ignoring his blush she began planning the day she would have with Chi-Chi. It would be fun, and sanity saving for the Fry Pan Princess.
She spent the rest of the time she was supposed to be with her classmates with her friend. Both plotting the rescue of their overly naïve friend. Goku had a very odd sense of survival instincts, especially when it came to females. Thankfully Bulma had in stowed a strong fear and respect in them when he was a youth, Chi-Chi refined her work. Sadly that wasn't helping right now. As her class chaperon pulled her away they agreed on plans for Saturday. Yamcha had been offered a contract and she was the one he trusted to make sure he wasn't scammed, it wasn't the first time she had helped the others with legal matters. She may not have had the legal training; she had been raised to run around the legal curb.
So nice to know she had a multitude of talents. She pointedly ignored the few brave enough to question her on her relationship with the soon to be major leaguer. Sadly she had run out of the desire to chat. Pity.
Ya ya I know, well SOON (meaning eventually when I get around to it) there will be a car race and a baby born and a blow out between onna and prince.
BUM