Hey there. Thanks everyone.
Roar-ya: Merci pour ton soutien, ça m'a aidé à me souvenir qu'il y a quand même quelques lecteurs qui aimeraient connaitre le reste de l'histoire. Du coup, hop: chapitre 12.
Warning: Some of you might expect some sweet VegeBul. You won't find that here. Of course, there will be interactions between them but it's not the main point of that story. I thought it fair to warn you about it and I'm sure you'll find some romantic Vegebul all over the site.
Chapter 12 - The amazing world of Bulma Briefs
The Heiress seemed to be the type to care for details. Vegeta contemplated his reflection in the small mirror while considering the quality of the suit he'd been given for his duty. The fabric was refined and the outfit felt as if made-to-measure. There was no doubt it had been cut out by a gifted tailor.
At first, the Saiyan had been pleased to find out he was to wear such comfortable clothes. Yet, after a moment gazing at himself, his satisfaction gave way to the bitter thought that he mostly looked like a megalomaniac's puppet after all. Like he'd been Freezer's puppet for years. The Heiress wanted some classy bodyguard to fit her classy car and her classy life. He felt somehow nauseated at the idea but then, he reminded himself that it was all fake. He wasn't exactly her bodyguard and she will be the one screwed up at the end of all. The thought had him smirk at his reflection while adjusting his sleeves.
He was interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. "Mr Bodyguard, the hand of the clock says you're gonna be late," an irking falsetto voice stated. He frowned at the sound and wondered who could be talking in such moronic way. He stepped out the changing room and found a little guy with a very pale skin and disturbing round eyes smiling at him. The little man stretched his hand to him. "Hello, Mr Bodyguard, I'm Chiaotzu," he claimed.
Vegeta watched him with unease. Goku had told him about this guy. He was half witted and Shienhan dragged him along like a little brother. He was also one of the few person the Heiress would trust and Shienhan had mentioned him as her third bodyguard. Vegeta reluctantly shook his hand. "Do you know where I'm supposed to go, now?" he asked the little clown.
Chiaotzu shook his head all by keeping smiling and Vegeta felt like he was mocking him. "Tien didn't tell me. Will you be our friend from now on?"
Vegeta cringed. "Friend? Huh, I'm just a bodyguard."
Chiatzu looked puzzled at the reply. "But… You want to protect Bulma, don't you? Doesn't it make you a friend of her?"
Vegeta gritted his teeth. This strange man was indeed a complete idiot. The Saiyan deemed better not to waste time trying to argue with him. "Well, you're somehow right. Consider me as a friend of hers."
Chiaotzu beamed again. "Then, if you're Bulma's friend, it means you'll be Tien and me's friend too."
Vegeta repressed a sigh. "Okay, new friend. Do you know what I'm supposed to do now?"
As a reply, Chiaozu reached out a gun so fast Vegeta he couldn't say where the little clown had it from. The Saiyan was startled and he wondered with some concern who could be thoughtless enough to give a weapon to such a dumb person.
The little man seemed to read his mind as he resumed. "Don't worry, bodyguard. It's unloaded. There you got the ammos.
A box of bullets appeared in his free hand as if by magic. Once again Vegeta was stunned by Chiaotzu's dexterity while the later was staring at him with an obvious amusement. The Saiyan understood he was taking all this for a game. Vegeta felt some unease while facing that little man blessed with the brain of a five-year old along with unsuspected skills and knowledges about guns. The situation was somewhat disturbing.
Vegeta snatched the gun and the ammos from Chiaotzu. The little clown wasn't baffled at his harshness and kept smiling at him. "Tien said someone will be waiting for you in the underground parking lot. Don't forget your coat, Tien said you would find everything you need in its pockets."
The Saiyan found out a black woolen coat was hanging on the stand. He checked the gun's security notch and stuck it into his belt. Then he reached out for the coat and rummaged the pocket. He found the professional phone Shienhan had mentioned along with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A few notes and a security pass had been stuffed in another pocket and that was it. Vegeta put every items back where they belonged and slipped the coat in all by wondering how Shienhan had guessed he was an occasional smoker. Maybe he'd smelled it on him, or he'd spotted his lighter.
"Smoking causes cancer. It's bad," Chiaotzu stated, snatching the Saiyan out of his musing.
"Sure," he groaned.
"Bulma promised she would quit. You should too. I don't want my friend to get sick. Do you know what cancer is?" the little clown resumed.
Vegeta wasn't listening to him anymore as he was in a hurry to leave him behind. "We'll talk about that another day, little friend. I have to go by now," he replied absently.
He stepped past Chaozu, giving him a slight bump in the process and exited the room without one more word. He heard his terrible voice behind his back. "Have a good night, Mr Bodyguard!"
Vegeta did exactly as he had been said and made his way to the underground parking lot. A bunch of cars were parked in the dim light and he had a second thought about where to head. "Mr Ouji?" a voice startled him.
A guy dressed in a similar suit as his was standing in the shadows. "I'm Guy. I'm Ms Briefs's driver for tonight," he claimed.
"Where is she?" the Saiyan asked.
"I don't know yet but we have to pick her up. We're sort of late already," Guy replied. With that, he walked to a shining black car. Just like Vegeta had expected it, it was a big luxury model. It was the bumptious type with a lame motor - Hardly good enough to drive quietly downtown and impress morons. He took place on the passenger seat.
"What do you mean, you don't know where she is? How are we supposed to find her, then?" he asked the driver as they exited the parking lot.
Guy turned on the GPS system. "Someone will program the GPS system at distance for us," he answered with a smile.
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Even the driver knew nothing about where he was heading. It sounded quite amazing.
"First day your work for her? Expect everything but normality, there. She's eccentric and exhausting but she pays high wages. You'll get used to it," the driver explained flatly.
"I hope so," Vegeta grumbled. "It won't be easy to protect her if I'm not allowed to know what she's up to, though."
"I guess. She's weird sometimes," the driver shrugged absently.
During their talk, Vegeta noted the elaborated security system surrounding the parking lot. He'd needed his personal badge to have the elevator bring him down here and furthermore, they were cameras and checkpoints everywhere. Besides, it seemed this woman had an endless row of cars and he was pretty sure some of them were never used. Anyone willing to trick the Heiress' car would have a hard time reaching the parking lot and picking up the right car.
They drove through the town following the computer's indications until they stopped at the entrance of a hotel. Vegeta frowned. "A hotel?" he whispered for himself.
"She sort of lives in hotels," Guy pointed out. "Not always in classy ones."
Vegeta looked at him. "Yet, she must have a home, right?"
The driver pouted. "Not that I know. The Capsule Corp might be her home. She surely has an apartment somewhere in the building, I suppose. You'll have to find that out by yourself because she has more than ten drivers, so I'm not always the one driving her. I told you she's weird."
Guy climbed out of the car and Vegeta followed him. Both men leaned side by side against the car as to wait for their boss. The setting was classy again - nothing surprising. Red carpet with a canopy, a stoic doorman in uniform - everything reeked of big dough. As time went by, the Saiyan had to repress his growing annoyance. Serving someone was something he could no longer stand. The situation reminded him too much of his years at Freezer's service.
"There she is," Guy mumbled all of a sudden, snatching him out of his frustrating musing.
Vegeta had a shock when he saw her. He still had in mind the picture of her plain look the first time he met her during his interview and the woman showing up there seemed definitely to be someone else. She was wearing a long, red evening dress embroidered with tiny diamonds. Her hair were done in flawless curls cascading down her neck and bare shoulders and her slight make up made her face somehow different. Vegeta had to admit she was breathtaking and nothing near the bitch in lab coat he'd seen the day before. He even wondered whether she was maybe playing the lookalike trick once again.
She glanced at Guy and Vegeta and headed straight to them with Shienhan by her side. The folds of the scarlet fabric were gleaming with each step she took and it made the sight even more impressive. As she came closer to him and talked to him, he had to bow to the evidence though. She was the same woman he'd met in the small office of Capsule Corp. "Mr Ouji, you haven't given up yet?" she asked with a large smile.
"Not yet, Ms Briefs. I'll be aware of men's restroom though," he growled.
She laughed and gave Shienhan a knowing gaze. The Easternish guy cleared his throat in unease. "Bulma won't try anything unfriendly against you, Mr Ouji. Right Bulma?"
She shrugged. "Nothing a professional bodyguard wouldn't survive. As a beginning, we'll attend a very boring party, dear. Very boring and yet for a good cause," she resumed.
Tien Shienhan nodded. "I thought it would be easier for you to start with some official events so that you can learn to know each other a little bit," he explained to Vegeta.
"He's a damn liar. He's rather relieved to run away and leave that chore to you," Bulma corrected.
"I've been watching you for more than 24 hours by now. Would you allow me to have a personal life?" Tien objected playfully.
"What personal life?" she replied with curiosity.
Shienhan sighed in embarrassment. "Whatever. Did Chiaotzu give you - huh - everything you need?"
Vegeta nodded. He hadn't even cared to load the gun by now.
"Good. I told you everything you should know about the professional phone. Did you give your personal phone to the guard at the Capsule? You can leave him instructions if you're waiting for important calls, you know," Shienhan added.
"I remember all the details," Vegeta replied.
"Don't hesitate to use the phone if you have any troubles," Shienhan insisted.
"Tien, don't patronize him that way or do you want me to doubt his ability to be my bodyguard?" Bulma cut off.
"No - It's - huh" Shienhan stammered but Bulma interrupted him with some impatience. "Don't worry. Everything's gonna be fine. Go to that "personal life" whatever it means. Let's go now, we're late."
At that signal, Vegeta opened the back door in order to let her in. She had a second thought but accepted the hand he offered her as a help to climb into the car. When he shut the door, his eyes met Shienhan's. Vegeta could say the man was wary. He might need some time to gain his complete trust but it shouldn't be that hard considering he was already handing the Heiress over to his care.
Vegeta went back to the passenger seat and the car drove away, following new instructions of the GPS. The Saiyan could watch their back passenger through the rear mirror but the Heiress didn't tell them a single word during the short drive. He figured out that she would stay quite distant out of Shienhan's presence. Before Vegeta could figure it out, they arrived in a place he recognized as West City's town Hall.
The Heiress hadn't lied. The party was boring to death. Vegeta had attended hundreds of parties like this one, either when he was part of Freezer's team or even younger, as he was the promising Prince of Vegitasei. Whatever the place and whatever the time, he'd always hated those sort of society life.
At least, being a mere bodyguard here, he didn't need to make conversation with anyone. First of all, there had been an endless speech and now there was some music and food. A small crowd was scattered in a huge lavish room, all the women with shiny long dress and all the men in tuxedo.
The Saiyan was standing still against the wall, his eyes locked on his target. Her red dress was very convenient to monitor her among the mass but it didn't prevent her from being out of sight once in a while since the place was swarming. Vegeta didn't mind. It wasn't as if he was a real bodyguard.
"Who are you watching?" a flat voice asked right next to him.
When he turned his head, he found a young guy with long black hair and mesmerizing blue eyes standing next to him. He was dressed in a dark suit and Vegeta identified him as another bodyguard, as bored as the Saiyan himself. "Red dress," Vegeta mumbled.
The guy raised an eyebrow. "Lucky guy. I'm here for an old fat tuxedo and it gets easily lost in a crowd like this. The worst thing is I'm starving and sleepy as hell. Do you think it would be really unprofessional to have a bite in the kitchen?"
Vegeta considered the offer. Once again, he wasn't a real bodyguard. Furthermore, there wasn't much to happen in that damn ballroom. "I think it's hard to focus with an empty stomach either way. Let's go and see what we can find there," the Saiyan answered.
He followed the younger man across the place but just when they were about to reach the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of a piece of red fabric sneaking through the service entrance. The Saiyan froze with a frown. "Sorry, I got to go," he blurted out before leaving the other bodyguard behind.
He went straight to the service entrance and stepped out in a dark filthy courtyard. It was deserted and quiet except for a figure sitting on a box in a corner. He walked closer and made out the long red dress in the dimness. The person there was holding a cigarette glowing in the twilight. "Ms Briefs?" he asked hesitantly.
She raised her head and looked at him. "Hey. Found me. Just call me Bulma, by the way. Ms Briefs sounds too formal," she answered quietly.
"I like Ms Briefs better," he grunted. For some reasons, the fine glittering fabric of her dress' train lying on the filthy ground bothered him. "What are you doing here?"
She smiled. "I needed a cigarette and I also needed to hide from sticky guys," she said with a chuckle.
Only then, he noted that her voice sounded raspy and he realized she might be drunk. He repressed a sigh and slipped his hand in his pocket in search for his own cigarettes. He was stunned to find the pocket where they were supposed to be was empty except for the phone. He tried the other pocket in vain.
"Looking for something?" she asked.
"Huh. I thought - my cigarettes. I guess they fell in the car," he grumbled with a shrug.
She had a frank laugh. "I assume you met Chiaotzu, didn't you?"
Vegeta raised his eyebrow. "Yes. I saw him when I started my duty, why?"
"Let me guess, he lectured you about quitting smoking and you didn't listen to him. He stole your cigarettes."
The Saiyan frowned at that statement and remembered that he'd bumped the little clown standing in his way out. "Damn."
"Welcome in the amazing world of Bulma Briefs," she claimed by handing her own pack to him.
He accepted her offer and lit up a cigarette for himself all by mulling over that strange character of Chiaotzu. He would keep an eye on him next time as he felt disturbed by the fact that he could have been fooled by the idiot.
"Do you want some wine too?" the Heiress asked.
His eyes fell on a bottle she'd brought outside along with her glass. It seemed she'd been as bored as him in that party, and it seemed boredom had made her throat sore. "No thanks. I was wondering what's the point in staying there in that dirty courtyard? Why not just go home?"
She had another stupid chuckle. "You know what, Mr Ouji? You might not be very funny but you have fucking good ideas," she replied.
He felt glad to learn that she was willing to go back home, which would mean he would be able to have a quiet night on his own. He also hoped to find a way to call Goku and let him know what was on.
"Let's go!" she claimed by standing up.
However, instead of heading to the door to go back inside, she climbed up the box and grabbed the ledge of the wall separating the yard from the street. He stood numb for a second. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked as she was making pathetic attempts to hoist herself on the top of the wall.
"Whaddayathink? I'm running away." She mumbled.
"Why not just use the door to go back inside and use the entrance of the building?" he asked in bewilderment.
In reply, she gasped in a desperate effort that resulted in her sitting astride on the wall. The sound of fabric getting ripped echoed in the process and Vegeta eyes almost bulged out. He threw his cigarette away and walked closer to the box. "Ms Briefs - Huh, come down, now, you're gonna hurt yourself," he hissed as if addressing an unruly child getting on his nerves.
She just laughed at that and he deemed she might be even more wasted than he'd thought in the first place. He jumped on the box and grabbed her wrist but she'd already swung her legs over the top of the wall and she was now hanging on the other side. She had a small wimp as she likely realized, she was higher than she'd thought.
"Don't be silly," Vegeta roared,"you're gonna break your leg. It's too high." He was holding her arm tight and seething at her foolishness.
She gave a glance at the gap beneath her and chuckled again. He heard her shoes falling down on the sidewalk. "Let go of me, it's okay. I've done worse," she stated.
He could say it was too late to impose a reasonable way on her. "Let me help you, then. Give me your other hand," he ordered coldly.
She glared at him. "I don't need any help," she spat by snatching her wrist out of his grip. He was caught off guard by her move and had no time to react. As a result of him letting go of her wrist, she fell down straight on the ground with a loud thud. He cursed under his breath and climbed the wall in the blink of an eye to check her out.
"Fuck!" she yelled. She was sitting on the sidewalk of a deserted alleyway and rubbing one of her arm. He couldn't see her very well. "Are you all right?" he asked from the top of the wall.
Getting no answer, he jumped down next to her. The refined fabric of the dress was half torn and spread on the concrete around her so that he couldn't see her legs but her arm had been scratched in the fall. "Are you hurt?" he insisted.
"That damn dress didn't help but I'm fine," she grumbled in annoyance.
"You're reckless and drunk," he stated.
She laughed again. "You're something of a philosopher, Vegeta. Do you mind if I call you Vegeta?"
He sighed and took her hand to help her struggle to her feet. "Yes, I do. Let's call the driver and go back home now."
She dusted herself and considered her torn dress for a moment. Then she stared up at him. "The driver? He's gone. I told him to go."
"What?" he exclaimed. "How are we supposed to go by now? Let's call a cab, then."
"A cab? I feel like walking," she objected by picking up her shoes.
Vegeta gritted her teeth. That drunken fool was definitely getting on his nerves. "You're nut. Anything could happen to you. We're in the open. What if the snipers tracking you down find us there?"
"Then you'll do your job, I guess. Aren't you bulletproof? It's an essential quality to be around me," she retorted cheerfully.
He glared at her in disapproval. Once again he could feel that disturbing feeling toying with his mind. Even though she was drunk and even though she was renowned to be fearless, she should be scared or at the very least she should be concerned. She was supposed to be the living target of a fearsome talented sniper and yet, there she was, walking carelessly the deserted street of an unknown neighborhood by night. Her cockiness didn't fit the situation and Vegeta wondered whether she was hiding something and what it could be about.
Maybe she was just completely stupid. He watched her. It was a senseless sight to say the least. From afar she would look like a princess dressed in a splendid dress and adorned with diamonds but a closer look could tell that the princess had likely just gone through a garbage chute. A drunk and gimpy Princess indeed. Vegeta wasn't certain if she was silly but she was everything but normal, that was for sure.
Having no other choice he followed her suit with no clue about where they were heading. She seemed to be oblivious of him at first, walking straight down the street but she ended up pausing and lifted up her dress to inspect her wounded ankle. He heard her curse under her breath.
"Are you hurt? Maybe it would be wiser to call a cab," he suggested flatly.
She gave him a murderous glare. "I'm gonna be all right. It's nothing. Gimme your arm if you wanna play gentleman," she spat.
He glanced at the ankle. It was scratched and he was pretty sure it was sprained but he did as he was told. She wrapped her arm around his and the way she leaned on him at each step proved Vegeta right about the ankle. However, the woman would rather die than to admit that jumping down the wall with a cocktail dress while completely drunk had been a bad idea. He blurted a soft sigh. This mission was promising hell.
"I have to pee," she stated all of a sudden, as if hearing his thought.
"What? Now?" he hissed in disbelief.
"I can't wait. I'll hide between the cars over there, just watch out that no one comes," she confirmed before running to the cars parked some meters further.
"Hey, no! Wait!" Vegeta shouted. He couldn't believe she would really do it but as a matter of fact, she crouched between the cars and soon enough he could only glimpse the top of her hair. He turned around hastily.
He closed his eyes an instant in order to regain his composure. This first day was anything near what he had expected. She was supposed to be rich, she was supposed to be smart and everyone depicted her as the dream of any sensitive man. He wasn't naive and he had figured out she would be somewhat eccentric as were many people too rich and famous for their own sake but she acted mostly like a brainless kid and hell, she was the utmost vulgarity.
Vegeta sighed again as he came to the conclusion that it wouldn't matter that much after all. All he would have to do would be to get some interesting pictures for Pilaf and truth was that a drunk Heiress peeing between cars in the street would be something the dwarf would love.
He opened his eyes and saw an old man walking a dog in the distance. He watched him for a while, fearing he would come their direction and stumble across a busy crouching Heiress but the guy ended up entering a house with the dog.
The Saiyan peered over his shoulder to check out if his boss was done. His blood ran cold when he realized the glimpse of blue hair was nowhere to be seen between the cars. "Ms Briefs," he called.
He wasn't surprise to get no answer and cursed. He rushed to the place he'd seen her for the last time but she was gone. He looked around carefully. Fortunately, the street was deserted and there was hardly any sound save for the rumor of the traffic going on a block further. Thus he could hear the faint noise of steps hurrying away in a street on his left.
He ran into the street without a second thought and glimpsed the red dress almost a hundred meters ahead. When he caught up with her she looked up at him and gave him a warm smile. "Hey, here you are again?" she noted carelessly.
"You tried to lose me," he grunted.
"Did I? If it had been my real intention you wouldn't have found me so easily," she shrugged.
He realized that she didn't limp any longer and he figured out she'd been putting it in order to allay his wariness. She was a true bitch but he couldn't say exactly what game she was playing. Or maybe he knew. It struck him all of a sudden. "Are you trying to put me off the job?"
She raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile. "How did you met Yamcha?" she asked, changing unexpectedly the subject.
He pressed his lips together in annoyance. The atmosphere had changed in less than one minute. She wasn't as drunk as he'd thought, he could see it in her eyes now. And neither was she foolish. He disliked it and a dull unease grew in his guts. "A friend of mine introduce us," he replied cautiously.
"Yamcha got a lot of friends, but he seems pretty keen on you," she stated with an unreadable face. "What do you know about me?"
That was a tricky question. Vegeta couldn't pretend he'd never heard of her but he shouldn't display any particular interest in her. "Well, I haven't lived in the Western State for very long but I know you're a scientist running a very important firm. You're rich and in big trouble, which are the two main reasons why I'm here. Is there anything else I should know?"
She cocked her head in hesitation. "Hm, no. I think it's more than enough so far. Oh, I think we're there."
She stopped at the door of a small mansion and pushed it open. He followed her when she entered and found out the place was actually a small hotel. They stumbled across a guy with a grey mustache and missing teeth, standing in the tiny hall. "Evening, Ma'ame. How are you tonight?" He greeted them.
"Fine, and you Horacio?" she replied with an absent smile.
Horacio had a raucous chuckle. "As fine as my bones. How many breakfasts tomorrow?"
"Three will do. Have a good night Horacio," she answered. Then, she walked into a corridor. Vegeta gave the man a nod and followed her hastily. She knew the place and headed without a second thought to a door. She paused there and turned to Vegeta.
"That's my room. Yours is the next door ahead. Good night Mr Ouji," she told him.
He scowled and grabbed her wrist as she was about to open the door. "Are you going to run away as soon as I lay in bed?" he asked bluntly.
She blinked in confusion and looked up at him. Then, she repressed a grin. "I'm not," she replied.
"How can I be sure of that?" he resumed sharply. Truth was he was quite fed up with her bitchy behavior.
This time, she gave him a bright beam. "Well, I might offer you to stand beside my bed the whole night but I fear Yamcha wouldn't like it."
Vegeta didn't lose his composure at the answer. "Is he in here?"
She released gently her wrist and opened the door. TV was on somewhere in the apartment. "Bulma? Is it you?" the baseball player's voice asked in the distance.
"It's me. I'm just saying good night to my new bodyguard," she said, her amused eyes still locked on Vegeta's face.
Yamcha poked his head in the corridor and smiled at the Saiyan with a wave of the hand. "Hey, Vegeta. Everything's fine?"
"Perfectly fine," he growled back.
Yamcha went back to his TV and Bulma pushed Vegeta softly away. "See? I'm not going to run away. You can sleep sound," she concluded.
"It was all a test, wasn't it? This whole night was a test," the Saiyan stated coldly.
She didn't expect him to figure that out, he could read it on her face. He liked the fact that he'd been able to catch her off guard as much as he disliked the thought that she'd held him for a fool.
"Did I pass, at least?" he sighed.
"You didn't quit so far, so I think you did. Yet, I lack hindsight for now. Good night, Mr Ouji."
When she shut the door, Vegeta prayed to find some vodka in his room.
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