I don't own DBZ.
Review Please.
When Bulma returned to the yard, it was nearly empty. The few men that were left began to quickly shuffle towards the big doors at the entrance. She heard someone yelling at her, and turned to see one of the big burly men that had originally brought her there. Confused she asked, "What?"
"Get over here, girly!" He sounded frustrated, and he hurriedly waved her over to where he was standing. She ignored the fact that he didn't sound very happy. Deciding it wasn't a big deal, she shrugged, and walked over.
"Long time no see, big guy," she muttered upon reaching him. He snorted, and motioned for her to follow him through a side door. She hesitated at the threshold, "Where are we going?" A second later her stomach rumbled. "The kitchen, hopefully?"
Grumbling, he grabbed her arm, and began to drag her along. "We're going to get you a suit, if you must know, and we will not be going to the kitchens. Your meals are delivered to you in your cell."
She scoffed, "Is there a reason why we have to be treated like prisoners? If I'm going to be doing all of Freeza's dirty work, I'd appreciate so-"
In that moment, Bulma was slammed up against the wall, with one of the man's thick hands around her neck and the other still holding her arm in a death grip. Immediately, she tried to attack his mind, but she felt the same sharp shock she felt back in her cell. She screeched, both from the shock and from being choked.
Furious the burly man roared, "Where did you hear that?! Who told you this?!" He loosened his grip around her neck, allowing her to speak, but only just.
Gasping, she let out a raspy chuckle, "Well now I know."
He picked her up by the neck, and slammed her up against the wall again, "TELL ME!"
She clawed at his hand, desperate for air, trying hard not to go into a panic. She knew he couldn't kill her, Freeza would be furious. He would most likely die if he even attempted it. Almost as if he had read her thoughts, the man released her neck, but still kept a firm grip on her arm. In a much calmer tone, he forced the words through his teeth, "Would you be so kind to tell me the bastard that let you in on that little secret?"
Fiercely she glared up at him while tenderly rubbing her throat and spat, "I didn't need to ask anyone, you fool! I figured it out all on my own. For fuck's sake, isn't it obvious? Why else would he be keeping me here? For shits and giggles?"
The overly bulky man grumbled something incoherently before he dropped the hold on her arm, and continued to stalk down the hallway as if nothing happened. Bulma glanced down at her aching arm, and could already see bruises forming. She groaned inwardly, and then followed the grumpy bastard.
As soon as Gordan (this was the name Bulma decided to give the big bad bastard since he wouldn't tell her his real one) shoved a brand-spankin' new orange suit into her arms, he marched alongside her all the way back to her cell. Then before she could say another word, she was shoved through the threshold, and the door was slammed behind her. She didn't even attempt to bang on it with her fists. She knew it would be a wasted effort. Besides, she didn't want to give them a show because she was sure Freeza would piss himself laughing at her through that damn camera of his. She slowly raised her head to glare at that annoying hunk of junk.
Would it be all that difficult to try and dismantle it? Doubtful, but if she got caught the punishment would most definitely be harsh...
Oh well, we only live once.
Trying to act as casual as possible, Bulma tossed her suit on to her... new bed? Glancing around, she finally noticed that not only was her bed restored and with new sheets but there was also a new table placed next to it. She smirked, Freeza's full of shit.
Out of the corner of her eye, she peered up to the camera, curiously. She had no idea if someone was watching from the other end. The damn chip that was embedded in the back of her head prevented her from broadening her mind to seek out and find anyone that would be. She needed a plan. What if she waited until everyone went to sleep? Well, if this was anything more like a prison than it already is, there will definitely be somebody on night watch. Fuck! Maybe taking that offer from Leo wouldn't have been a bad idea?
Eventually she decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to consult with Leo the next morning. Throwing the ugly orange clothing onto the floor in a heap, she flung back the covers and collapsed on the bed, boots and all, suddenly exhausted from the long and crazy day.
BRRRRRRRIIINNGG!
"WAHH!" Flipping out of bed and onto the rock hard floor was just how Bulma wanted to start her morning at the ass crack of dawn. The annoying-beyond-belief alarm continued on for about another 2 minutes blocking out any thought process. As it ended, she could hear shuffling and muffled voices from the other side of her cell door. Ignoring them, she instead concentrated on trying to make sure all her body parts still worked. "Ughhhh, my... everything hurts." Rubbing her face with the palm of her hand, she glared up at the camera. She hated the possibly of somebody constantly watching her, and considering she was only girl that she knew of that wasn't a good sign. There's probably some nasty fucker jerkin' off on the other end of that thing. Not even bothering to move, she reached up and pulled the covers from the bed and over her tired and sore body. She made an effort to cover her entire body, but the damn thing wasn't long enough. She growled in frustration at the blanket, "I hate you, you stupid short ass blan-"
Bursting through the door appeared Gordon, all peachy keen, he announced, "Alright, time to get up! It's your-" He stopped mid-sentence noticing the bed was empty, then dropped his gaze to the giant pile of covers on the floor, and noted there were two small boots sticking out nearest him. If he listened closely he could faintly hear the very obviously fake snores coming from beneath the blankets. Rolling his eyes, he bent down, grabbed the boots, and yanked Bulma out into the open.
Bulma squeaked in surprise, and put on a huge innocent grin when she suddenly came face to face with Gordon. With a hint of sarcasm she asked, "How's the weather up there?"
Either he was too dumb enough to get the joke, or he ignored it, because he continued to haul Bulma to her feet before shoving her onto the bed, and throwing an orange mass into her face. Which Bulma could only assume was the suit. "Change. Now," he demanded.
After ripping the suit off her face and into her lap, Bulma's sweet and innocent expression immediately turned into a scowl. He had turned, his back was facing her. Apparently, he was expecting her to follow his instructions like a good little bitch. Well, he has another thing coming. Flicking the suit off her lap, and into the corner of the room, she hissed, "I am NOT wearing this ridiculous piece of clothing." Crossing her arms and turning her nose up in the air, her pouty face was on full-force.
Growling, Gordon swung around, reached out, and tore Bulma's shirt right off her body. Leaving her tits for all the universe to see. Shocked and severely pissed, Bulma screamed at him, trying to cover herself in the process, "WHAT THE FUCK is your problem you cum-guzzling nasty motherfucking son of a bitch!!"
Letting out a deep vibrating laugh that could be heard many halls away, Gordon never heard a woman with such a vulgar mouth! Trying to settle down, he barely go out, "You must wear the suit now, or else I will rip off those shorts as well, and then the only thing you'll be wearing in the yard is your boots."
Screaming in aggravation, Bulma yelled out, "TURN AROUND!"
With a huge grin on his face, Gordon obeyed. He heard a bit of shuffling and whole lot of cursing, and she indicated she was done by rolling up the bits of her ripped shirt into a ball and chucking it at his head.
Turning around, he nearly choked on his own spit. The suit was small, too small, to the point where she could barely zip it up all the way. This, unfortunately, allowed plenty of cleavage to be shown. Bulma did not let his staring go unnoticed, "What?! This is your fault, if you hadn't ripped my shirt into a million fucking pieces then I wouldn't have to flash my goods! This suit is too fucking tiny, for Kami's sake I probably have the worst wedge-y known to man-kind!" She finished by stamping her foot, and giving him the most evil glare she could come up with.
Chuckling, he gestured for her to follow him out, and then they made their way down to the yard. He stared at her ass the entire way.
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A/N: I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to have Vegeta enter this story. If anyone has any ideas, please share.