Vegeta on a White Stallion? Not likely... - Chapter 7 - B-POV
Maybe convincing Vegeta to start training again all those months ago wasn't such a good idea. Though I'm a bit relieved that he's not depressed anymore, I'm even more worried about his current state. I don't think he sleeps more than an hour at night. On the bright side, he joins us at every meal, so at least I know he's eating. Then again, he looks worse every time I see him. Being sick over the winter didn't help either. Well, I say being sick...really he barely had a cold. Of course, he refused to admit even that much of a weakness, insisting that he was fine each time I brought it up. Eventually, I gave up. What could I do? But I knew that getting no rest was NOT helping all that sneezing and sniffling he was doing. No matter, it passed for the msot part, and at least to my knowledge, without a single type of medicine or cough drop. Amazing really, because even Yamcha or Krillen would have had to rest up for a cold to pass over. But wait, Vegeta's not human...duh, how could I forget?
I sighed, picking up my slow jogging pace as the lights in the park turned on. I don't like running when it's dark, because you never know who's out there. And yes, that's right, I said running. Come on now, how do you think I stay in such good shape when I'm always eating those little cakes that my mom buys? Running is one of my favorite pastimes beside working on my inventions and reading. It allows my mind to clear and I can think about anything I want. Very stress relieving. That night, as was with almost every night, my thoughts were revolving around the Saiyan prince staying at Capsule Corp. Do you know how difficult it is to live with someone, and know absolutely NOTHING about them? Over the past couple of months, my mission involving Vegeta became less and less about finding out who the mother of his supposed child would be. In fact, it had all but disappeared from my mind. I was more concerned about the prince himself. In a sense, I wanted to become his...friend. Or as much of friend as he would allow me to be. I wanted to gain his trust for one. But, as I said, it's hard to be friends with someone when you don't know much about their past.
I walked into the kitchen, panting slightly from my run and shivering. It was warming up again as we entered spring, therefore we'd turned on the air conditioning and it was a big contrast from the hazy afternoon heat I'd just been running in. And since I was wearing nothing but spandex that went to mid-calf and a sports bra, the cold air against my damp skin only enhanced the coolness around me. I was busy drinking a glass of water and wondering what we would be having for dinner when the person who'd been occupying my thoughts waltzed into the room. He paid no attention to me, going to directly to the refrigerator and pulling out a chicken leg left over from last night.
"We're going to be eating soon, you know," I said to him, sipping from my glass. He spared me a glance over his shoulder before tearing into the chicken as if I'd said nothing. I silently fumed, but kept my temper in check. If I was right, that was beginning to get to him because I think he liked goading a fight out of me, but I hadn't given him that satisfaction in weeks.
"Where were you?" he asked suddenly, giving my form a quick glance-over.
"Running," I replied, tugging my hair out of its hair band and allowing it to spill across my shoulders. The ponytail was too tight, I was beginning to get a headache. He raised an eyebrow.
"Running?" he replied skeptically. "Since when?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"For your information, Vegeta, I ALWAYS run. But you're usually in the gravity chamber when I do." He smirked.
"Well, at least now I know why you never seem to gain weight with the hoards of food you consume."
"The hoards of food I consume!" I exclaimed incredulously. "Look who's talking!"
"Saiyans require more food than humans, woman. We have a greater need for the energy consumption," Vegeta replied haughtily, followed by an almost inaudible sneeze, as if he was trying to hide it. I sighed.
"Vegeta, honestly, it wouldn't hurt you to take ONE day off. If you did, the remnents of that cold you had would FINALLY go away." He growled at me, the response I had been expecting. He can be so predictable in some ways.
"Woman, I do NOT have a cold. I never HAD a cold. Saiyan immune systems are too strong to get infested with some measly human disease."
"Apparently not..." I mumbled. I think he heard, judging by the way he glared at me, but he said nothing and busied himself with eating the chicken. I allowed my eyes to roam over his body as I had done so many times before. I mean, if he's going to flaunt it by wearing nothing but spandex shorts, I might as well get something out of it, right? Suddenly, an idea popped into my head... "Where'd you get all those scars, Vegeta?" I asked as innocently as I could. He nearly choked on the chicken in his mouth. Frowning, he glanced down the front of his body, and then up at me.
"I can't believe you just asked me that," he said gruffly. "I'm a warrior, remember? They're from battles, woman."
"Yeah, but SOME of them have to have an interesting story behind them," I said, placing my glass in the sink and walking over to stand in front of him. "Come on, we can trade stories."
"Trade...stories?" he muttered, eyebrow raised again. Then he snorted. "Bulma, what stories could you possibly tell me that would be of interest to me? Do you even HAVE any scars on that oh-so-perfect body of yours?" he asked sarcastically. I blinked, but ignored the fact that he had called me by my name. It happened on occasion, and I learned the first time not to go crazy about it. The time I had, he called me "woman" for two weeks straight, emphasizing the word and even going out of his way to talk to me, just to call me by it. So instead, I smirked.
"Oh, so you noticed?" I said teasingly, spreading my arms and twirling around slowly, glad for the moment that I had the spandex on, as it left little to the imagination. He snorted again and looked me over quickly, before taking another bite out of the chicken leg. "Fine...well, ah, here we go!" I pointed to a faded, inch and a half long scar on my forearm. "Climbing a tree when I was young. I slipped and scraped myself on a branch," I said proudly, knowing it was nothing compared to his. Vegeta let out a short bark of laughter, amusement shining in his eyes.
"Alright then," he said. He glanced down at himself briefly, and pointed at a long gash on his left arm. "Most of these are from various ki blasts during battle, but some I can remember specifically. This one's from Frieza's horns." He didn't say anything more about it, and I didn't bother asking. I pointed to a jagged scar on my ankle.
"Shaving," I said simply, smiling widely. He shook his head slightly, and turned around.
Looking at me over his shoulder, he said, "Any of the long, straight ones on my back are from whippings under Frieza, for being 'disobedient'." He smirked, apparently not having a problem with it. So, apparently I'd been right about that.
"Hmm...well, have you ever been told not to run with anything sharp?" I asked. He blinked, and shook his head. "Ok, well that's one of the major things parents reiterate over and over again on earth. Of course, I didn't listen to it, and one time I was running with a knife...I think I was bringing it to my mom to cut whatever we were having for dinner or something, and I tripped. It sliced me, riiiiight...here," I said, pulling down the top of my spandex a bit to show Vegeta a long scar on my lower stomach. "I had to go the hospital for that one." Vegeta smirked.
"Yay," he said flatly, twirling a finger around in the air. I laughed. He returned his arms to their crossed position, and glanced down at himself once again. There was a pause before he spoke. "This one," he pointed to a three-inch long scar on the right side of his stomach, and then turned slightly and pointed to a matching one on his back, "is from Zarbon. Frieza had ordered me to spar against him, though every time I got beaten to a bloody pulp. This time was the first time I ever got a decent punch in, and I actually broke his nose. He got so angry he impaled me with a sword." He sounded so proud of it, but I had to wince. Ugh, impaled with a SWORD? Geez... I noticed an odd one then, right in the middle of his chest.
"Where'd you get that one?" I asked quietly, reaching up and touching it lightly with my fingers. He backed away quickly, so fast that at first I wasn't sure if I'd removed my hand or he had moved. He didn't tense up though, something I was happy about. He'd gotten better with that around me, which proved that he did trust me on SOME level.
"THAT one," he spoke as quietly as me, running his own had over the circular scar, "is from when Frieza killed me...with that ki blast." I backed up half a step. Oops, I hadn't meant to get into that, but he didn't seem mad.
"What," I started, swallowing, "what was it like?" I didn't have to say what, I think he knew. He let out this dark chuckle that sent shivers down my spine.
"Woman...Bulma, as awful as I could make it sound, as gruesome as I could describe it, saying things that would give you nightmares for YEARS... it would not even BEGIN to describe what I saw in the few HOURS I was there. Not even for a whole day was I dead."
"...Oh..." I said shakily. Ouch, I didn't even WANT to know. Nevermind. We stood in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, before I took another step back. Well, I'd gotten what I wanted...more information about his past...but still, I wanted more. "I...I guess I should go ask...ask mom when we're eating. So that you won't waste anymore time...you could be...training..." I trailed off eventually, still locked in his gaze. I felt like I couldn't move suddenly. He wasn't glaring at me for once, even though his eyebrows were drawn. Then his entire face relaxed and he smirked, though it was different than usual. There was no malice behind it. It was probably the closest he would come to a smile.
"I didn't know I was wasting time," he said simply. It was all I could do not to widen my eyes. I had the sudden urge to either go "awww" or fling myself at him and give him a huge hug. I think either would have gotten me a swift trip to another dimension. Instead, I smiled slightly.
"And I didn't know you liked talking to me." He snorted.
"I never said I liked talking to you...just that when you're not screeching at me and I can actually get a word in, it's not completely horrible."
"Right," I said, widening my smile. Then, yet another idea came to my brilliant mind. "Hey, take the day off tomorrow," I said bluntly, my smile not wavering at all when he blinked at the absurdity of that statement.
"But then when you go on your worry trips, you become intolerable," he mumbled, glancing heavenwards and sounding exasperated.
"I wasn't worrying," I said quickly, and he looked at me again. "And I wasn't referring to your cold-" I stopped that sentence quickly when he glared at me. Right, the almighty Saiyan no Ouji doesn't GET sick. "I just meant," I said slowly, "take a day off from the gravity chamber. Have a cool down day. I know this really nice place...I used to go there when I was little. There's this pond...and a field you can train in...come with me! I'll bring a ton of food!" He raised an eyebrow, but seemed to think it over.
"And what would YOU be doing?" he asked.
"It's supposed to be almost eighty degrees tomorrow, but then back in the sixties next week. I was thinking of working on my tan for the spring and summer. I'll bring a book or something, and you can have a relaxing day of training," I explained, trying not the look too hopeful. He glanced away from me for a second, and I could almost see the gears working in his head.
Giving me a level look, he said simply, "Fine." Yes! Score for Bulma! I cheered silently to myself and did a victory dance in my mind. I tried to keep my smile from getting too large.
"Good," I said. "How about we leave around...ten or so. Is that too late? You can sleep-in for a little while."
"Saiyans don't sleep-in. We don't require very much sleep." I blinked at that. Now, I knew he didn't sleep much, but that he didn't NEED to, that was new to me.
"Oh... Well, I just figured...I guess I never thought about it. I just always assumed you'd need the same amount of rest as humans, since Goku-"
"Kakarot was not brought up-"
"Right right right," I said quickly, cutting him off as he had done to me. He glowered at me. "I've heard it all before," I reminded him.
"Well, you seem to forget so easily. Anyway, if it's of interest to you, the amount of food I consume makes up for the lack of sleep. Both refill my energy supply," he said, finally tossing the chicken bone he was still holding into the trash. Well, when he said it that way, it made so much more sense. I smiled at him again.
"Well, I don't know when it happened, Vegeta," I said, bounding up to him and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, "but somewhere along the line you became a LOT easier to talk to. See you at dinner, I need a shower!" I practically skipped out of the room, leaving a confused Vegeta rubbing his cheek behind, just as my mom entered the kitchen.
"Oh, Bulma honey!" she called after me. I paused and turned to look at her. "You need to hurry if Vegeta wants to take a shower too, because his is all messed up right now."
"Huh?" I asked, wondering what in the world she could be talking about. Vegeta jerked his gaze towards my ditzy blonde mother, his eyes asking the same thing.
"Well," she continued, oblivious to our stares, "I got tired of that old green tile in all of the bathrooms, so I decided to have them redone in royal blue. Vegeta seems so fond of the color anyway, and I found these beautiful, fluffy towels and pretty wallpaper to go with-"
"Wait, mom, hold on," I cut in. "Did you say...ALL of the bathrooms?"
"Well yes, of course." She looked at me and propped her hands on her hips. "That old color was just disgusting! It looked like it was mold rather than paint. Your bathroom's already done, honey. The construction crew will be back to finish Vegeta's tomorrow, since I didn't think he'd like them in his room while he was there." Vegeta snorted at that, probably in agreement. I nodded slowly, and continued on my way.
"Be quick about it then, woman!" Vegeta yelled after me. I pause, backtracked to the door, and stuck my tongue out at him.
"Dinner will be ready by the time you're both done," my mother said, already bustling around in the kitchen. The mention of food made my stomach growl, and I quickly headed towards my room again. By the time I'd gotten there, thoughts about the following day had already taken over my mind, and I'd forgotten about the whole sharing a bathroom thing. Thus, I walked into the bathroom without anything to change into. I wasn't even done lathering my hair when someone began pounding on my door.
"Who is it?" I called through the door.
"Damn it, woman! You've been in there for ten minutes!" was the reply I got. Sighing, I answered him.
"Just hold your horses, Vegeta! I'll be out in a minute! Or five..."
"I don't want to wait that long!"
"Well you're gonna have to!"
"I wait for NOBODY!"
"Then this'll be a first for you!" And so on and so forth, accompanied by pounding on the door until the point that I thought it would break, until I finally got out of the shower. Realizing that I hadn't brought any clothes in with me, I wrapped one of the new towels that my mother had bought around me, discovering that they WERE really fluffy, and opened the door to face an irritated Vegeta with his hand raised to bang on the door again. He paused for a second, his eyes running up my form for the third time that night. I leaned against the doorframe and smirked at him. "Admiring my oh-so-perfect body?" I questioned, throwing his own words back at him. A hint of red graced his cheeks for all of a second, before he returned my smirk.
"You wish," he said, brushing past me into the bathroom, carrying a change of clothes under his arms.
"I WISH?" I asked incredulously, following him into the room and trying not to stare at his ass as he bent over to turn on the water. He adjusted it to the temperature he wanted, pointedly ignoring me, before standing up again with a shampoo bottle in his hand. He sneered down at it and replaced it, picking up another one.
"Do you have ANYTHING that would allow me to smell as if I HADN'T just walked out of a flower shop?" he asked disgustedly. I plucked the lavender scented conditioner from his hands and gave him an orange bottle instead.
"Peaches," I said, smiling at the look he gave me. "It's a fruit," I shrugged. He frowned and turned away, bringing up his hands to yank off his spandex shorts. "Aack!" I exclaimed, turning away quickly before he'd even begun to lower them. "At least wait until I get out of the room!" He smirked at me.
"Why? Embarrassed? I'm sure it's nothing you haven't seen before."
"That's not the point," I said, choosing to ignore what he said. I turned to look at him, and he stared right back, his thumbs still hooked under the hem of his shorts.
"Well?" he asked after a moment. "Were you going to leave?" Suddenly realizing the state of dress we both were in, I flushed lightly and left abruptly, shutting the door behind me. Not that it bothered me too much, since I'd been trying to get him to pay more attention to me anyway and I really had no qualms about my body, but there's a limit for everything. I didn't want to be TOO obvious. I grinned and set about finding my favorite pair of pajamas: a spaghetti-strapped light yellow t-shirt and matching drawstring pants. Very comfortable, and appealing to the eye.
I was changing in my closet since I had no idea how fast Vegeta would be when it occurred to me. If Vegeta was taking a shower now, then that meant he had to be done training for the night. I smiled slightly. He must have decided to take a little more time off than just a day. I emerged from the closet at the same time Vegeta did from the bathroom. I blinked.
"That was fast," I commented, taking in his black drawstring pants and finally chiseled chest still damp with water as I began brushing my hair. He snorted and sat on the edge of my bed, watching me watch him in the mirror.
"I smell like fruit," he grumbled, causing me to laugh outright.
"It's better than smelling sweaty and dirty."
"Maybe to you. I'd rather smell like nothing at all."
"Huh?" I asked, pausing in running the brush through my teal locks. My eyes met his in the mirror. He sighed exasperatedly.
"Must I explain EVERYTHING to you? Whatever...you do know that most of a saiyan's senses are enhanced, right?" I nodded. "Well, that includes scent. I happen to prefer a person's natural scent to all this flowery crap that you pour on." I got the feeling he was talking to me ABOUT me. I smiled. Well, out the window all my perfumes were gonna go. Maybe Chichi would like them... "What are you smiling about?" he snapped, irritated.
"Nothing, nothing at all," I replied softly. Giving my hair one last brush, I turned around to face him, holding what had used to be one of my favorite perfumes in my hand. "So, I guess you wouldn't like it if I sprayed this all over you then."
"You guessed correctly," he said, eyeing me warily.
"Oh," I said, and gave a huge fake sigh. "Too bad too, because it smells really good!" I exclaimed, pouncing on Mr. All-powerful before he had a chance to realize what I was doing. By the time he managed to pin me underneath him, he'd been successfully doused in the sexiest smelling perfume on the market. He wrenched the bottle from my hand and sniffed it, gagging at the too-powerful smell.
"Bulma, TELL me you did NOT just spray this on me," he said, looking dead serious.
"And if I did?" I said, sniffing haughtily at him.
"Then you would have to be punished," he stated matter-of-factly. My eyes widened as his smirking face was suddenly an inch in front of mine. They widened even more when he picked up my foot.
"NO! Vegeta, don't you DARE! STOP! Let me go!" I cried, trying desperately to get out of his grasp. I paused when nothing happened, and brought my eyes up to meet his. He was staring at me...in confusion? Or fear... something, anyway, that I wasn't used to seeing in those ebony depths. I could feel his warm breath against my mouth, and each time I drew in a breath my chest would arch up to meet his. Against my will, my eyes became half-lidded. I couldn't believe what I was about to do. Hadn't I promised myself that I WOULDN'T take the initiative? At that moment, I didn't care. Vegeta's hand released my foot and came up to brace himself so he wouldn't be lying fully on top of me. His other hand still had both my hands pinned above my head. I don't if I moved forward or he did, but suddenly we were only millimeters away when my mother's voice floated up to us-
"Bulma! Vegeta! Dinner's ready!"
-and both of our stomachs growled in unison. I chuckled, as my hands were suddenly free from their bounds, and I let my head fall back against the bed. We had been SO close...
"Are you coming?" a gruff voice asked, and I looked up sharply to see Vegeta waiting by the door. Oh, so he HADN'T fled when my mother interrupted us. Perhaps there was something there after all. I smiled and nodded, rising from the bed. He said nothing about what had almost happened, probably opting to forget about it, so I didn't mention it either. I followed him into the dining room where my parents were already waiting behind the huge load of food that graced the table. We were just about to eat, when my mother decided to speak up.
"Oh, what is that LOVELY smell? Bulma dear, is that one of your new perfumes? It smells absolutely ravishing! Do you think I could borrow it sometime? It's WONDERFUL!" Vegeta promptly growled, at me or just in general I don't know, while I laughed.
"Mom, you can HAVE it," I said in between laughter. "I don't think I'll be wearing perfume too much anymore anyway." I ignored my mom's thrilled outburst and Vegeta's sudden curious gaze directed my way, and continued eating.
Um...nothing to say this time, lol. :)
-Maxine