Later that night, sitting in the back of his van in a parking lot for an abandoned gas station, Vegeta squinted at his phone as he checked his text messages. Uneasy with Frieza's cryptic threat, he had reached out to Nappa, Raditz, and Goku to check on their locations. Nappa had responded saying he was out of town, and Raditz replied saying he was at home.
Goku had yet to reply. Vegeta scowled, wondering if he was working the night shift, but his head was hurting too much to think beyond that.
Lowering his phone, he looked at himself in the small mirror he had stashed with his medical supplies. He had stripped out of his shirt and body armor to clean the blood and examine all the damage, but at the end of the day, it was the head injury that demanded his attention. He had a hand holding a white rag on his head – when he lowered the rag, it was soaked in blood. Vegeta winced as he leaned in closer to the mirror to examine the wound above his temple that ran into his hair, the one Dodoria had caused with his bat. He knew from experience that he definitely had a concussion, but he also needed stitches to close the wound, lest he have bigger problems later.
As he slowly – very slowly, as his hands were unsteady – worked on stitching himself up, Vegeta's eyes would occasionally drift to his cell phone, which had yet to go off with Goku's responding text message. A thought briefly ran through Vegeta's mind: maybe Goku was angry with him over their exchange at the graveyard the previous night? He let that one go; it wasn't Goku's style.
It took an enormous effort, but finally, his stitches were complete. He examined himself in the mirror, frowning as he did. It was not his best stitching work, and he would probably have a scar over his temple, but he would live.
Vegeta threw his supplies into his small medical box and shoved it aside, then picked up the bloody rag again, bringing it back to his head. He gingerly laid down on his back, as he had stripped the entire backseat out of the van weeks ago. His eyes were unbelievably heavy as he picked up his cell phone again. He squinted at the thread he had with Goku. Still no response.
His head spinning, Vegeta put the phone on his chest so it could wake him, draped the rag over the wound on his head, and then finally closed his eyes. He passed out cold in seconds, never hearing the police sirens shooting past the parking lot moments later.
He also didn't rouse when after a few minutes, his cell phone vibrated on his chest with several text messages.
Bulma peered up at the building where the latest violence had taken place, puzzlement in her blue eyes. This area was residential and not the usual place the vigilante struck; plus, it was only a mile from her own apartment, which made her mildly uncomfortable. But, business was business, and if the vigilante was working again, then so was she.
She approached the building as the uniformed officer that had called her to the scene, John, quickly came over.
"Detective, glad you're here," John said as he fell into step with her. With shaggy blonde hair under his uniform hat and a clean shave, he looked his age, like the young kid barely out of college that he was. "This one's a doozy."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they walked together. Krillin would have usually tagged along, but they had been working together at the precinct late into the night running cross checks to try to narrow down the identity of the vigilante. She had decided she would check out the latest crime scene on her own and leave him to continue their work, but she did wish she was dealing with him instead of this rookie.
"Oh yeah?" she asked. "Alright then, what have we got?"
"We got the call half an hour ago, gunshots fired, all in this building. There are two apartments, and we have five bodies upstairs in the main apartment. We have already ID'd one of the men as having ties with Frieza. His name was Dodoria."
"Dodoria!" Bulma exclaimed, eyes widening in shock. "He's high up for Frieza. You sure that's him dead in there?"
"Yep, definitely him. He took a bullet to the head, and a knife to the ankle. Looks like a war went down in there. Has to be the vigilante, so Chief said to bring you in as you're on the case."
"Who do the apartments belong to?"
"Some lady named…" he paused, and then nervously pulled out a small notepad as Bulma scowled at him. "Ah. Gertrude Smith. We are trying to get ahold of her, but no luck yet. She owns the whole building, and it looks like she lived in the top apartment, and was renting out the other. But, it's the basement studio apartment that you're gonna want to see," he told her excitedly as he rounded the back of the building, with her on his heels.
"Why? Did anything happen down here?" Bulma demanded as they descended down the concrete steps. She was mildly annoyed, as everyone else was congregating in the upstairs apartment where the bodies were, and she did not know this rookie cop well enough to gauge his judgment.
"Nope, but I think you'll be interested anyway," John said with a grin as he walked into the apartment.
Bulma followed, and for a moment, did not notice anything of interest. On the surface, it looked like a barebones studio apartment. However, after just a couple of seconds, she was intrigued by just how barebones it was, like whoever lived there had purposefully not allowed themselves to get too settled in. Not only that, but she was catching a faint whiff of a scent that somehow felt awfully familiar.
All her thoughts came to a screeching halt though when she stepped further inside and caught sight of the rifles and ammunition. Her eyes swept to the other side of the room, where she saw tactical radio equipment, and she could feel her heart start to race.
Her mouth practically watered as she immediately went over and squatted down next to the radios. She pulled out latex gloves to cover her hands, then turned on a radio. She played with the frequencies, and they both suddenly heard the tactical frequency the police liked to use come through which reported on live calls and situations unfolding.
"Oh my God," she muttered to herself, slowly turning to look at the room with burning interest and growing excitement. "This is his apartment!"
"Yep," John replied, hands settled on his belt, chest puffed out in pride. Bulma eagerly went over to the rifles to examine them – they were all military grade, and one was a beanbag shotgun. She squatted down, examining without touching, looking like a kid in a toy store. "Yep, I might have the makings of a detective myself. Ya know, being the one who found the vigilante's apartment and all-"
"Take the ego down a notch, kid," Bulma replied, not even bothering to look back at him. John looked deflated behind her as she ordered, "Call in backup, I want this apartment swept for prints and evidence. I want that lady found too, so we can get the name of this guy who was renting this apartment, got it?" she said as she stood up, genuine excitement pulsing through her.
John's shoulders fell a little, but he went to do as she asked, though she was not paying him any attention. There was a story there in the apartment, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Her cell phone rang then, but she silenced it as she wandered into the bathroom to take a quick scan.
She picked up that faint scent again, familiar somehow, and her nose crinkled up – she was still unable to place it. It was like an aftershave, one that smelled distinctly masculine, but it was too faint for her to place.
Bulma let out a loud sound of exasperation when her cell phone rang again. This time, she took it out, saw it was Krillin, and answered it.
"We got his apartment, Krillin!" Bulma exclaimed immediately upon answering the phone, leaving the bathroom and going over to the mattress nearby. She bit her bottom lip when she saw an empty picture frame. "I got a lot of work to do here, but I'll give you the run down when I'm done-"
"Bulma," Krillin interjected. Something about his grim tone made her pause. "Chi-Chi called here. It's Goku…"
It was hours later that Vegeta finally stirred, thanks to some distant car alarm going off combined with his cell phone vibrating on his chest. He groaned low, before reaching up to remove the bloodied rag from his face. He gingerly felt the side of his face, which had dried blood on it. Groggy, he slowly lifted himself up so he was sitting up, wincing as he did. Dodoria had bruised him up good with the bat, and he was hellaciously sore.
Vegeta roughly shook his head to focus, blinking a few times as his cell phone vibrated. He picked it up immediately, hoping it was a message from Goku…only for his stomach to drop at the missed messages he had from Raditz.
V: Just checking in. Where are you?
R: I'm at home. Why, what's up?
R: Hey, call me right away. It's an emergency.
R: It's Goku.
R: Need you to call me ASAP, or pick up my calls.
R: Hey, I'm trying to get a hold of you, but you're not messaging me back, and you're not picking up the phone.
R: Where the hell are you?
R: Well I didn't want to tell you in a text, but my brother got shot tonight. He's in the hospital and is in surgery. It doesn't look great right now.
R: We're at West City Metro Hospital, if you want to come. Just call me and I'll come down to get you.
Vegeta lowered the phone, feeling a cold wave wash over him, his mouth dropped in shock and dismay. He was still for a stretch of time, his mind reeling.
Suddenly, his patience snapped; in a rage, Vegeta hurled the phone against the inside side wall of the van, with so much force that it shattered. He practically kicked the back doors clean off, climbing out the back and into the darkness. Turning around, he quickly slipped on his bloodied shirt, and then his leather jacket, not even bothering with the body armor. He gripped one of his rifles, mad with fury as his mind was overwhelmed with the need for vengeance.
Instead of taking the rifle out though, his hand just maintained a tight grip on it. He was almost panting, his heart feeling like it was going to explode from how hard it was hammering in his chest. His hand tightened on the rifle as he lowered his head, trying to take deep breaths to calm down before he had a panic attack. It was enough for the rage to simmer, and the guilt to rise up until it felt like it was strangling him as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Fuck!" Vegeta practically screamed, finally letting go of the rifle. He slammed the doors shut hard and then stalked over to the driver side, climbing in and slamming the door behind him. His hand was shaking as he turned on the van.
He then pulled out of the lot, and headed towards the hospital.
There weren't many things that would have pulled Bulma from the biggest break she'd gotten on the vigilante case, but Goku being shot was definitely one of them.
It was past 2 in the morning before Goku was finally out of surgery. He had been shot once in the stomach and once in the chest, and neither bullet had gone all the way through. Bulma sat in the waiting room, trying to offer Chi-Chi and Raditz as much moral support as she could. Eventually, the surgeon had come out to give them a status update that Goku's surgery was done. They were told that his condition was still critical but stable, which relieved Bulma and Raditz, but only made Chi-Chi's crying worse. When Chi-Chi was offered the chance to go see him, she was gone in a flash, leaving Bulma with Raditz and the other police officers that had come in to show their support for Goku.
Krillin came over several minutes later from getting them some food, and took a seat next to Bulma. Raditz was sitting across from them in the waiting area, looking tense, one knee bouncing as he fidgeted. Krillin observed him for a moment; he was close friends with Goku, but his older brother was very reserved and difficult to get to know. Still, he empathized. Krillin tossed Bulma a wrapped sandwich, then extended the bag to Raditz to offer him one. Raditz looked surprised, but then he frowned and shook his head, lowering his gaze to his cell phone. Bulma and Krillin had both noticed he was doing a lot of that, as though checking for a text message. It must not have come though, because he quickly looked away, frown deepening.
"Good thing Chi-Chi's dad could watch Gohan tonight, huh?" Krillin said aloud, trying to break the tense silence.
"This is definitely no place for a kid," Bulma agreed, as they both unwrapped their sandwiches.
"Goku will be fine though," Krillin asserted in full confidence, chewing through a mouthful of food. "He's tough as hell. I bet he'll be up and at it by the end of the week, right, Bulma?"
Bulma gave him a small smile. She was also close to Goku and Chi-Chi, and considered them good friends. "Yeah, I'm sure of it. Goku won't be taken down this easily," she said, before taking a bite of the sandwich.
Raditz' phone started ringing then, and he immediately stood up and walked away to take the call. Krillin watched him go, before leaning in closer to Bulma and whispering to her.
"I'm close to finishing up the work you asked me to do. We should have it narrowed down soon who the vigilante is, especially if we can get a hit with whoever was renting that apartment you found."
"Good. We'll probably pick it up in the morning, I think," Bulma sighed. "The vigilante has never hit more than once in a night, and we can't burn out, so we should get some sleep tonight. Though with what happened to Goku, well, Chief wants us all in body armor and armed if we're outside, until this all blows over."
"Well hopefully it blows over soon."
"It will," she affirmed, her blue eyes confident. "We're close now. I can feel it."
Meanwhile, Raditz was descending the stairs to the ground floor. He walked until he came out of the front entrance into the cool night air. He didn't have to look far before he found the man he was looking for, leaning up against the wall off to the side, smoking a cigarette. Raditz tightened his jacket around himself, scowling, and headed over.
"Took you long enough," Raditz peevishly said, glaring down at the smaller man. He blinked in surprise when he finally got a good look at him. Vegeta was wearing a baseball cap, but what got Raditz' attention was the hint of dried blood and noticeable bruising that stretched around the side of his face.
"How is he?" Vegeta gruffly demanded, bringing his cigarette up for a draw. It was only then that Raditz noticed the dried blood on his fingers.
"Well, he's in the ICU right now, recovering from surgery. He's stable for now," Raditz answered. Vegeta exhaled the smoke through his nose, looking down as he grunted, prompting Raditz to ask, "Are you okay? You look like hell."
Vegeta hesitated a moment in answering, kicking a little at the ground. Finally, he shrugged. "I got mugged tonight," he answered nonchalantly.
Raditz' eyes widened. "What? Geez, what the hell is going on tonight? You need someone to check you out?"
Vegeta looked up and to the side, raising his cigarette again for another long draw before he replied. "No, I'm good…so, can I see him, or is that going to cause some kind of problem?"
Raditz knew without asking that he was referring to Chi-Chi, who had never gotten along with him. He tilted his head thoughtfully, before saying, "Come on up. I think I'll take my sister-in-law for a walk so she can breathe a little." Raditz frowned as he looked Vegeta over. "We'll stop in a bathroom first though so you can clean up. That blood is going to get you the wrong kinds of questions with all those nosy cops upstairs."
Vegeta immediately froze. "Cops?"
"Yeah, some of the people that he works with. They're fine, a little annoying with their support, but it's good for Chi-Chi I suppose," Raditz explained. He walked over to the main entrance to the hospital, then looked back in surprise when he realized Vegeta wasn't following him. He looked at him expectantly. "You coming or what?"
Vegeta hesitated for some long moments. Finally though, he dropped his cigarette and put it out with his black boot. Fuck it; he wanted to see Goku. He owed him that much, since he was the reason he was in the hospital to begin with. Besides, the guilt would drown him alive if he walked away and his friend passed away during the night; he did not think he could handle that.
He hesitated only a moment longer, before following in after Raditz.
Meanwhile, Bulma was texting with the rookie John who was still on the scene of the vigilante's violence earlier that night, bombarding him with questions. Krillin had taken his leave, tapped out for the night, but promising to come back early the next morning to visit Goku before he went to work. Several of the officers were starting to leave – visiting Goku in his room was restricted to family only, and it was getting late. Still, Bulma stayed, wanting to at least catch Chi-Chi or Raditz one last time to offer them some support before she called it a night too.
Raditz walked back into the waiting area, and then down the hall and through the doors towards his brother's room. He looked like he had no interest in engaging with any of the cops, but she did not blame him for that, figuring he was stressed about his brother. Bulma sighed, figuring that it may be time to leave, when someone else came into the waiting area that immediately caught her eye.
Bulma couldn't see the man's face – his face was masked with shadows from his baseball cap with only parts of a five o'clock shadow visible. He had his hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket as he kept his eyes down. He was trying to remain undetected amidst the cops that were lingering as he leaned back against the wall, and to his credit, no one else noticed him.
No one, that is, except for her.
Vegeta reached up to rub his eyes which were aching, when his hand froze as someone came to stand directly in front of him. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, and then exhaled. He had taken the risk, so he slowly raised his head, his dark eyes settling on her blue ones.
"Vegeta! What-" Bulma started, and then her words died when she saw the bruises on his face. At once, her expression changed from accusing to worried. His nose twitched at that, and he looked away, inadvertently giving her a better view of the remnants of Dodoria's damage. "Holy crap, what happened to you?" she asked with concern.
"I'm fine," Vegeta answered curtly. Bulma frowned at him in disapproval, and then went to ask another question, when he raised a hand to stop her. "I'm just here as a visitor. I did tell you I knew someone on the force."
"Goku?" she asked in bewilderment. He nodded once, his whole body tense. He could practically feel her stare searing into his skin, and he felt oddly exposed. It felt like if she continued staring, she would be able to read the truth all over his face, and he would soon find himself arrested. He wasn't sure if it was his current guilt or his concussion, but at the moment, he didn't much care either way.
"What?" Bulma asked with a huff, and he felt her stare intensifying. "But – I asked him – oh, that jerk, I used your fake name and so he probably thought he was slick when he said he didn't know you! Wait til he gets better, he's gonna hear it from me." Despite himself, Vegeta snickered a little in amusement, looking down. "How do you know him?" she pressed.
He shrugged. "Served together."
"Ah, yes, makes sense," Bulma nodded in understanding, when the doors opened and Raditz and Chi-Chi emerged. Chi-Chi went over to the last remaining police officers as Raditz settled his gaze on Bulma and Vegeta. His gaze was curious initially, and then seemed to lighten with understanding as he remembered what Goku had told him about those two.
"We're going to give these guys an update, then check in to see how Gohan is doing, then we're going to take a short walk…if you two want to go in, I'll give you guys time with him," Raditz nonchalantly said, nodding to Vegeta once, who nodded back.
"What? But I thought it was family only-" Bulma's words died when Vegeta just walked away, going through the doors.
"Don't worry. The Marines made those two brothers," Raditz told her with a small smirk. "Why do you think I was trying to get that asshole over here? Anyway, you should probably go with him. He was mugged tonight, so maybe you can keep an eye on him," he suggested.
"What- Vegeta was mugged?" Bulma sputtered, overwhelmed with all the new information, but Raditz just walked away, back over to his sister-in-law.
Bulma looked back in the direction Vegeta had gone, her mind whirling. She only hesitated for a moment, before going after him.
Vegeta was standing at the foot of Goku's bed when Bulma walked in. He didn't acknowledge her presence, so she quietly came up to stand next to him, wrapping her arms around herself. They both stared down at Goku, who was lying unconscious in a mess of bandages, electrodes, tons of cables, and a breathing mask. His heartbeat was steady, the only sound in the hospital room. Bulma felt her stomach drop at the sight of him, much like it had when she got the initial phone call. He looked so frail and defenseless; it was so unnatural for him.
Bulma looked at Vegeta out of the corner of her eye. Though he looked stoic, there was an almost tangible anger radiating from him. She turned to him more now, seeing that he was grinding his teeth together as he stared at Goku.
"He'll be okay," she gently said, breaking the silence.
He barely heard her as a memory flashed through his mind of Tarble, riddled in bullets, and covered in blood. Vegeta grimaced and looked away, squeezing his eyes shut as he brought the heel of one hand to his temple. He swallowed hard, focusing on his breath which was coming faster as his heartrate sped up. The memories and images of Tarble, combined with the current state of Goku along with the knowledge that it was entirely HIS fault – it was all threatening him with a panic attack.
He was just about to turn around and leave to get fresh air, when Bulma took his hand in her warm one, jarring him out of his thoughts with the gentle maneuver. Vegeta looked back at her in open surprise as she moved closer to him.
"You'll be okay too," Bulma quietly said, remembering that his brother had been killed recently. That, along with his apparent mugging, plus Goku being shot, was probably a lot to handle. She squeezed his hand in comfort, giving him a small smile.
Vegeta swallowed at her words, his stare solely trained on her. She was almost single-handedly grounding him. This was a good woman, he reminded himself; someone who had no idea what kind of monster he was, and who would hate him if she did. He didn't deserve to even be in the same room with her, but damn if her hand didn't fit perfectly in his.
Without thinking about it, he interlaced their fingers together, and squeezed her hand back.
Vegeta let his gaze linger on her for a few more seconds, before looking back at Goku. Bulma kept her eyes on him though as she studied his profile, her blue eyes going to the fresh stitches that looked haphazardly done on his temple that ran up into his hair under his ballcap. He seemed calmer now, but upon seeing the cloudiness and exhaustion in his eyes, her concern bubbled back up.
"Did you see a doctor after the mugging? I'm also assuming you reported it to the police."
Vegeta shrugged and grumbled, "It's just a concussion."
"What? Geez, bunch of assholes out there these days, I fucking swear. Shooting a decent cop, mugging an innocent guy," Bulma growled in disgust. Vegeta looked away, his guilt flaring as she turned her attention to him again. "Well, do you live with anyone, that can keep an eye on you while you sleep tonight?"
"I live alone."
"Oh…well, you can come crash with me, if you want?" Bulma asked, earning a questioning look from him as he raised an eyebrow. She smiled, "No, not for that. You can crash on the sofa. It's not like you're a stranger anymore, right?"
Vegeta scowled, shifting his weight between his feet. "I appreciate the offer, but it's unnecessary. I've had several concussions before. The worst of it has already passed. I'll be fine come morning."
"Hm, yeah, that doesn't make me feel better," Bulma told him, her blue eyes examining him intensely. "I'm going to have to insist, because if you don't, I'm going to be worried. Though I guess if you give me your cell number, I can let you go and then I can check in with you in the morning? Pick your poison."
Vegeta quietly sighed. He was going to tell her that his phone was broken. It was the honest truth, as it was lying in pieces in the back of his van, an error in judgment that made him hunt for a pay phone to call Raditz downstairs. Still, it sure did sound like a bullshit lie, and he doubted she would believe him. He finally looked back at her, studying her as intensely as she was studying him.
The woman did something to him to calm the storm that had been raging inside him since his brother had died. Bulma had broken through his shield of simmering rage that night at the bar when no one else had been able to, taking his mind off his all-consuming vengeance for the first time. He had at first thought it was just the sex. But now, staring at her, he realized it was more. It was her presence, her warmth…her strength. He almost wished he could explore it more, just be a normal man pursuing a woman who interested him. But he knew that she would find out the truth soon, and then whatever warmth there was between them would be gone. This was as good as it was ever going to get.
Vegeta ran his thumb over her hand, and then nodded.
"Alright, I'll go with you," he muttered, figuring he'd swing back later for his van. "We should go before Raditz and Chi-Chi get back. She doesn't much like me."
"Sounds good. Chi-Chi will be with Goku during the night so he won't be alone, and we can visit later. Don't worry, we will get whoever did this." Vegeta scowled at her words, his gaze moving back over to Goku. Bulma noticed him hesitate, and then quietly added, "I'll go say my goodbyes and go to the car, you can come when you're ready. I'll be in the black sedan outside of the front entrance."
Vegeta said nothing to that, and so she let go of his hand and took her leave. He took a deep breath once he was alone, frowning as he stared at Goku. His eyes softened with regret, as his shoulders lost some tension.
"I never meant for this to happen to you. Kakarot…I'm sorry," Vegeta whispered, burying his hands in his pockets again. He paused as though expecting a response, but he only got the monitors beeping. He sighed, and turned towards the door. "Well, you have a kid waiting, so get better fast. I'll have this ended soon."
He then left as quietly as he had come in, and made his way downstairs.
The elevator ride up to Bulma's apartment was quiet and felt unusually long. Bulma kept her eyes on the number above the door showing what floor they were on – honestly, how long did it take to go up three stories? She tried looking over at Vegeta through her peripheral vision, but he was leaning against the opposite side of the elevator. The car ride had been uneventful; she hadn't even pulled out of the parking lot before Vegeta was sound asleep next to her in the passenger seat. It was good though, because it allowed him to rest and her to think, mostly of how ironic it was that they had crossed paths again.
Not that she was complaining. She had at first thought her attraction to him was just a purely physical thing, a rebound after her breakup with Yamcha. The one night stand was hot; his intensity had translated over quite well in the bedroom. But it had been nothing to dwell over beyond that.
But then, she had talked to him at the police station, and again this evening. She liked that he was quiet, as it seemed to give his words more weight when he did speak. In this manner, Vegeta was the complete opposite of Yamcha, who always felt compelled to fill in silence with rambling. It was a feature that irritated her. Her job was demanding, extremely stressful, and oftentimes dangerous. Sometimes, she needed the silence, but Yamcha had always taken that personally.
This was not the case with Vegeta. He was not driven to fill any silence at all, and seemed more comfortable when less was said. This alone made her want to know more about the man who was not quite a stranger, but not quite a friend either. Plus, if Goku cared for him, then she knew that at his core, Vegeta must be a good person. This knowledge had also made it easier to extend him another invitation to her apartment. After all, Goku may have been polite to everyone, but that did not mean he was close friends with everyone. If Vegeta was good in Goku's book from a character perspective, then he was good in hers too.
Maybe he would be inclined to have a real date once this business with the vigilante is done, she mused as the elevator door finally opened. It was somewhat amusing that things were all out of order with Vegeta, in that they had slept together first, and had only engaged a couple more times, but now he was joining her again in her apartment as she pondered a first date with him in the future. It would be nice; she found Vegeta to be sinfully attractive, and he intrigued her, so why not? She was a confident woman who had no qualms about asking a man on a date. Plus she would need something new in her life anyway once the vigilante was behind bars.
Moments later, Bulma entered her apartment, with Vegeta close behind. She turned on the dim lights in the kitchen, and took a look at the clock. It was almost 4 in the morning. Out of instinct, she removed her badge and her gun, putting them on the counter.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she vanished into another portion of the apartment.
Vegeta stood near the entrance, hands in his pockets. He didn't know why he felt uncomfortable – he had been there before, after all. Maybe because now his presence was driven by concern instead of lust or a tactical purpose? He eyed her gun on the counter, taken aback by the show of trust she was giving him by leaving the weapon there, especially considering that he was still armed.
"I told you, I've been through this kind of thing before," he answered, trying not to sound annoyed. "I'm fine."
"Vegeta, you got assaulted tonight, enough that you needed stitches in your head and that you have a concussion. How did it even happen anyway?" Bulma demanded, emerging now with blankets and a pillow as she went over to the sofa. He watched as she began prepping the sofa for him to sleep there.
Vegeta frowned, thinking over his words, before settling on, "I was heading back to my apartment, and I got jumped. I don't know. It just happened."
"Things are dangerous right now in the city, you have to be careful."
"I can take care of myself."
Bulma sighed as she turned back to him. "Well, you should get some rest. Do you need anything?"
"I think I might need a smoke first, to clear my head." After all, his exhaustion had been slightly curbed by his impromptu nap on the way to her apartment. Vegeta looked past her, gesturing with his chin towards what looked like some fire escape out of the living room. "Is that spot any good?"
"Oh, definitely. Come on, follow me for the best view of West City."
Vegeta followed her closely as they went outside onto the fire escape. It was almost a little balcony made up of metal, with steps leading down just above the ground, and steps leading above to the higher apartments. She did have a decent view of the city from this vantage point – he could see the skyscrapers of the downtown area of West City clearly.
"Maybe I'll join you for a smoke," Bulma said, letting her hair down with a sigh.
"Not tired?" Vegeta asked, removing his ball cap and running his hand briefly through his upswept hair.
"I am, but I'm also still kind of wired. It's been quite a day. Plus with Goku in the hospital, I can use one."
He grunted as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He offered Bulma one, then felt the beginnings of a fire burning inside him when she perched the cigarette in her lips and stared at him expectantly. It was just like at the bar, except now, he knew what those lips could do. He took out his lighter and lit her cigarette while they kept eye contact the whole time. He was wondering if she would resist him if he plucked that cigarette back out and kissed her senseless – God, but she really did make him feel reckless – when her blue eyes focused on his stitches.
"Geez, what rookie did this shitty job with your stitches?" she asked in disgust. Vegeta flinched a little when she reached up towards his head, but then he relaxed, letting her examine him closer while he lit his own cigarette.
"I'll live," he gruffly asserted. He turned his head away from her towards the view, but Bulma's hand lingered, gently touching him through his hair. Vegeta closed his eyes as he took a draw, telling himself it was the cigarette that was soothing him and not her touch, even as she started massaging his scalp. He couldn't help it and leaned his head towards her, into her touch. "So do you know what happened to Kakarot?" he asked after a moment of comfortable silence.
"To who?"
"Ah, it was Goku's call sign, so it stuck. For me anyway."
"Oh," Bulma sighed, removing her hand from him and making Vegeta scowl. She looked towards the view with him, taking a draw from the cigarette. "Well," she breathed out, exhaling smoke into the night air. "I doubt it's random, with him being a cop and all. I'm not on the case, as I only work homicide, but the guy working on it says that some neighbors heard one of the shooters mention Frieza while running away."
Vegeta's scowl grew deeper as he patted the cigarette with one finger over the railing to get rid of the ash. He kept his rough voice as neutral as possible as he asked, "Are you all going to take Frieza down any time soon? He has been causing damage in this city for years."
"It's hard, we get leads, but then they vanish, and with all the corruption…" she sighed again. "And now we've got this vigilante problem. I'm sure you've heard about it."
Vegeta took a long draw before answering. "Ah, the vigilante. Sounds like an asshole if you ask me," he drawled.
Bulma couldn't help her laughter at his words. They were both leaning on their forearms on the metal rail of the fire escape, and he had the urge to get closer, especially when he heard her laugh. He turned his head towards her, watching how her eyes brightened with her laughter. She was mesmerizing, and he had the urge rise again from deep inside to kiss her as he unconsciously leaned in.
Bulma seemed then to notice his proximity, as she sobered from her laughter. Vegeta was only inches away – when had he gotten that close? – and she let out a shaky breath. His dark eyes were on her lips like a starving man, as he noticeably swallowed. He looked back up at her then, both of them gauging the other.
Bulma reached out her hand again to him, and this time, he didn't flinch as she touched his face, gently around his bruises. He had stubble now whereas before he had been clean shaven, but it only made him look more attractive.
Her touch was invitation enough. Vegeta turned fully towards her, dropping the cigarette in favor of putting an arm around her. Bulma's heart sped up then when he pulled her into a kiss. She almost melted against him, eagerly kissing him back, loving that despite his hard muscular frame, his lips were just as soft as she had remembered. Vegeta exhaled through his nose, pulling her closer against him while he deepened the kiss, exploring every inch of her warm mouth. It was just as good as before, as both of them forgot about the world around them.
Bulma breathlessly broke away, making him grunt as she leaned in to the side of his neck. She kissed him there, soft kisses that made him shudder as she breathed him in.
When she caught remnants of his lingering aftershave, however, she instantly froze.
Vegeta frowned in confusion when he felt her tense in his arms, slightly out of breath. "What?" he asked quietly, wondering if he had done something wrong.
"Nothing," Bulma responded, almost absent-mindedly, her mind suddenly clouded. A moment later, and she disengaged from him completely, turning towards the door, making him even more confused. "I think we should get some sleep. It's really late, I forgot the time, and you need to rest."
Vegeta blinked as she disappeared back into the apartment without waiting for him to respond. He turned back to the rail, bringing some fingers to his mouth, as though wondering if he had just dreamt that kiss.
Meanwhile, Bulma walked back over to her kitchen, snatched up the gun on the counter, and then went over into her bedroom where she closed the door. She paced relentlessly a few times, her heart pounding. Oh, those dark eyes of his that she could get lost in, filled with so much depth – they had blinded her. He had blinded her.
Fuck, she thought angrily to herself as her mind furiously went through everything she knew. He had the military experience. He had the dark hair Cui had mentioned. His brother had been murdered. He had conveniently paid a visit to the police station the same day the vigilante assaulted it. He was wearing bruises like he'd fought for his life that night, the same night Dodoria and 4 other men were brutalized. None of that had made her truly see him for who he was.
No, it was the aftershave he used, the scent of leather and wood and smoke that was all man. She had breathed that into her memory when he'd been above her that one night, her face in his neck while she clung to him for dear life in the heat of passion. Vegeta had known she was a detective, and he had allowed them to fall into her bed that night anyway. It was a blissful memory, and the bastard had cemented himself there, making a fool out of her, making her incapable of seeing him objectively. In her mind, he had been playing her from the beginning, meaning that everything she felt between them had been a lie.
Well, no one made a fool out of Bulma Briefs.
Bulma pulled out her cell phone, and then swallowed when she saw the text message she had from John.
Hi Det. Briefs – unable to contact landlady. Her son says she was renting the basement apt. in cash, some ex-Marine named Victor. We'll get more info in the morning.
She took a breath to steady her hands, then texted Krillin to send backup to her apartment right away.
Meanwhile, Vegeta was still perplexed, but decided maybe it was best to call it a night after all. His head was hurting too much to make sense out of women that night. He went back inside the apartment, eyeing the sofa which looked awfully inviting. Before he crashed though, he went to pour himself a glass of water, noting that Bulma was now in her bedroom. He frowned, not able to help his disappointment as he rounded the counter to hunt for a glass.
It was then that he suddenly noticed that her gun was no longer on the counter.
On the other side of the door to Bulma's bedroom, she quietly opened her drawer and grabbed more ammunition for her gun, just in case. She loaded the magazines on her belt from work that she was still wearing, biting her bottom lip as she strained her hearing. Finally, she picked up a pair of handcuffs she had in the drawer, clipping them on her belt. Raising her gun, she quietly approached the door.
Bulma turned the doorknob and pulled the door open normally, stepping back out of sight when she did.
"Vegeta?" she called out, trying to keep her voice calm even as she aimed her gun at the open doorway from the side. "Can you come over here for a second?" There was silence in response. "Vegeta?" she called again, willing her heart to stop racing.
A long stretch of silence passed. Bulma took a deep breath, and then stepped quickly out of the bedroom, scanning the apartment with her handgun. She instantly turned the gun to the sofa, arms stretched in front of her with the gun, but it had not been touched. She checked the kitchen, but no one was there. Finally, she ventured over to the fire escape – it was open, cool air coming into the apartment.
Vegeta was gone.
