Chapter 4: The Wait
*AN: Ok guys, gals and those who have yet to make up their mind, another chapter. So I'm hoping that if you like it you'll encourage me to continue and update. And like most writers, I'm a desperate needy person so please for that love of (insert deity and/or superstition) REVIEW!
And then the writer's block kicked in again. It is 10/9/12, let's see how long it takes for me to write this one shall we? (Edit: score, one day AND I already have most of the next 2 chapters outlined. High-five!)
I started naming the chapters. They just came to me and so I thought why not. I changed the names on the drop down box for the previous one but too lazy to try to get the change for within the story. Suck it up buttercup.
Also, some of you seem to have noticed one of my key fantasies. . Reviewer. What are you doing? Reviewer. Stahp.
**EDITED**6/29/15 better flow hopefuly
Loves! LaKinta no Hime
Reviews are my addiction and people like you are my fixes! :)
I don't own DBZ, but this story and any pertaining characters and such are mine. Any questions?
Chance
Chapter 4: The Wait
Bulma twisted the Phillips screwdriver halfheartedly as she stared out the window. Images of Vegeta kissing her in the dark alley filled her head. Inhaling deeply, she could still smell him; leather, fresh soap, a hint of motor oil or grease, and underneath it all a scent that was all Vegeta. She knew that if she smelled everything in the world and every possible combination, she would never find that smell anywhere else but with Vegeta.
The Phillips screwdriver slipped snapping Bulma out of her day-dream. Looking down, she realized the screwdriver had scratched the side paneling. "Damnit," Bulma muttered rubbing at the scratch with her thumb. But no matter how hard she rubbed, the scratch stayed there. Huffing in frustration, Bulma threw the screwdriver down and started pacing her work room. She followed the same path she had spent many hours walking the past three days. All because of Vegeta. She couldn't get him out of her head.
The carnival was last Saturday. It was now Wednesday. Three days she had waited, pacing around her work room, swimming laps in the pool until she reached the point of exhaustion, working on every project she had in her work room until she thought she would go mad. And the entire time, her phone was always in arms reach. But it stayed silent. Bulma woke up her phone for the 100th time, making sure she had signal and it was working. It was of course, being of Capsule Corps design. Irritated, Bulma squeezed her hand around her phone and lifted her arm as to throw the phone across the room. She stopped herself, same as she had every time she had been tempted to throw the phone when she checked it. Sighing, Bulma slammed her hands down on a desk and lowered her head in defeat.
"Bulma, you are 18 years old. A grown woman. You do NOT need to be mooning like a lovesick ape over a man you don't know! You literally know NOTHING about this man!" Bulma pushed herself away from the desk and spun around to lean against it. "You know his name."
"Oh that's helpful, I know his name. Gee, should I look up every Vegeta in the directory and go 'hey, are you that hot guy I made out with at the carnival? No? Ok thanks. Dial new number. Hey, are you that hot guy I made out with at the carnival?' Yeah, I can see that going real well."
"Ok, well how often do you have a guy that looks like he does, throw himself at you? What's the harm in calling and then finding him? You can always say fate led you to it."
*Snorts* "Oh yeah, that's even better! 'You are the guy I made out with at the carnival? Great! So I haven't heard from you so I decided to let fate guide me and she said to call every Vegeta in West City until you answered and voila! Here you are! What's that? You didn't call me because I, a perfect stranger, practically threw myself at you and if you hadn't stopped us I probably would have let you take me right there in the alley at my school where everybody could see me? Oh you didn't call because you didn't want to talk to me because I am apparently some desperate woman who would do it with any hot stranger? I understand. Have a great life Vegeta!"
"… Ok, maybe a bit desperate."
"A bit?"
"Would have been worth it though. Kami, the muscles on his legs."
"True… it would have been worth it… ugh! What am I thinking? I think I've gone crazy…"
"You're not crazy."
"Oh no? Then why am I having a conversation with myself and pantomiming two different people?!" Bulma froze then smacked her face with her palm. "Kami preserve me, I am crazy," Bulma muttered rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I have to get out of here." She lowered her hand to look at her watch which read 5:30 pm. Realizing her mom would be out at one of her charity board meetings, Bulma stripped off her work overalls and dashed out of the room.
oOo
Bulma waited until the security camera swung away before slipping through the side gate. With a quick glance to make sure the street was empty, Bulma took off down the road, her arms crossed over her head. As she walked, she let her mind wander, nothing in particular, blueprints, planned projects, her mother's anger. Bulma frowned as the last memory pop up, causing her to remember the unpleasantness that had followed the carnival.
Bulma sat in the upholstered chair, shifting side to side trying to find a comfortable position in the stiff chair. Bulma's mother stood glaring over her as much as her diminutive size would let her. Bulma's father sat on an equably uncomfortable looking divan off to the right and behind her mother. He was staring off into space, probably working out some formula or complicated programming for a project he was working on. Mrs. Brief's shrill voice made Bulma turn her head back forward.
"I don't know what has come over you lately Bulma! First, you abandon poor Yamcha at the Carnival. Then, you go cavorting off with some strange man. Who was doing some VERY inappropriate things to you, in public no less. You then talk back to me and treat me horribly, only to come waltzing back as if nothing had happened! As if that wasn't bad enough, your cardigan was missing, your dress was stained and your hair ribbon was missing. You looked like you had just had a, a, romp! A romp in the back seat of some stranger's car!
Second, when I was prepared to forgive you for all of that, and allow you to go out to a wonderful luncheon with Yamcha your refused to come down, instead cloistering yourself in that workroom of yours. I have half a mind to have everything removed from that room and destroy it so you can focus on the things that matter!"
Bulma shook with anger. Her workroom was the only think she had that was hers. Her mother could not, would not, take it away from her. Bulma opened her mouth to give a scathing retort when her father spoke.
"Oh leave the girl alone. You're not taking her workroom. What she did wasn't that bad."
Mrs. Briefs spun around, setting a withering glare on her husband. Which he ignored of course. "Not that bad? Were you not listening to the long list of offenses she committed?"
Dr. Briefs chewed on his mustache absentmindedly. "I heard. She stood up for herself, had a good time at the carnival, which was long overdue if you ask me as the girl never gets to just enjoy herself, and refused to have lunch with a man you are forcing on her. While the rudeness was uncalled for, Bulma you should have known that, I don't see why you are making such a big deal out of this."
Mrs. Briefs stared at her husband in shock that he spoke so much at one time, even more so that it was against her! Taking a calming breath, Mrs. Briefs placed the smile on her face she used when dealing with hardheaded board members or charity matrons. "Darling, I know it seems as if I am being hard on her, but really all I want is the best for our daughter, can't you see that? Girls these ages don't know what they want. That is why their mothers help them, guide them, showing them the correct path in the world. Bulma caused quite a scene at the carnival Saturday and I am just trying to have her realize that her behavior will not be stood for. It's not proper. And as for Yamcha," Mrs. Briefs turned towards her daughter, the smile still in place, "He is a very good young man, and his family is very influential in the community. You are eighteen now and have very few friends. I simply thought I would introduce you to some nice people your age that you could spend time with. And, if you so happen to enjoy the company of a particular gentleman well all the better. After all, you don't want to spend the rest of your life unhappy and alone, no do you?" Mrs. Briefs smile never left her face, but her eyes made the meaning of her words clear to Bulma. She had better fall in line with Mrs. Briefs plan or she would make Bulma's life miserable for ruining her social plans. Bulma bit her lip trying to decide what to do. She knew, like at the carnival, that if she backed down now, she would never have the courage to stand up again.
One the one hand, refusing meant that she could focus on the things she wanted to do without her mother's influence. Her father would support her decision and make sure that while Bulma may not have everything, she wouldn't be stranded alone. On the other hand, her mother was very involved in Bulma's life. Refusing might make her mother hover at every point while giving in might let Bulma find out ways to work around her mother's plans. Work from the inside so to speak. Bulma was still debating what to do when her father spoke up.
"Let's make a compromise. Bulma is as you said dear, eighteen. She is a grown woman perfectly capable of making her own decisions. However, I agree with your mother Bulma that you have isolated yourself from all of your peers. While I know how important your projects are, that's not all life is. So, the compromise. Bulma, you will allow your mother to make certain arrangements of social interaction for you. The rest of the time however, is yours to do with as you please." Dr. Briefs leaned back satisfied with the solution he offered. He always enjoyed figuring out the solution to a difficult problem.
"How many 'social interactions'?" Bulma asked.
"Five a week," Mrs. Briefs said quickly.
"One a month," Bulma snapped back.
"How about no more than three a week, with two weekends a month free for Bulma and no more one large event a month?" Dr. Briefs offered, holding back a laugh. Bulma and her mother looked at each other. Her mother looked as though she had just swallowed a lemon.
"I'm fine with that," Bulma said, her heart light. She would finally be out from under her mother's thumb! Not completely, of course but it would be better than before.
Mrs. Briefs glared at her husband again then sighed in defeat. "Alright, I agree. But! No more acting the way you did Saturday. I won't stand for a scandal. And you are not to see that man again or the deal is off!"
A motorcycle revving its engine broke Bulma out of the memory. Realizing she was near the front gate, she quickly pulled the hood of her jacket up over her distinguishable blue locks. It wouldn't do for the gate guard to recognize her after all the work she had to do to sneak out.
*Buzz Buzz*
Bulma gave a startled yelp as her phone vibrated in her pocket. Giggling nervously, she pulled it out and looked at the unknown number on the screen. The area code read for East City. "Who do I know in East City?" Bulma muttered. With a shrug, she pressed the screen and answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey," a deep voice replied. Bulma stopped walking as a shiver ran down her spine. She knew that voice.
"Hi," Bulma said breathlessly. Her heart began to pound in her chest so hard she knew Vegeta had to be able to hear it over the phone. "Vegeta. What's up?"
"Nothing. Just out driving around when fate decided to take an interest in our lives. So I called you to see if you wanted to go for a ride."
"Fate took an interest?" Bulma asked. "How so? And a ride where? When?"
"Now," Vegeta said with a throaty chuckle. A motorcycle revved its engines right behind Bulma causing her to spin around. Her eyes fell on the most beautiful sight.
Vegeta straddled a black and maroon motorcycle between his powerful thighs, clad in black leather and jeans. Vegeta had left his jacket unzipped revealing the grey t-shirt molded to his chest and he held a helmet in his hand. He looked as amazing now as he did the night of the carnival. Bulma had to force herself to remember to breathe as she walked over and stood next to the bike. She gingerly touched the handlebars and light out a sigh of longing. "A four-stroke, liquid-cooled, DOHC, four-valve, parallel twin engine with a 6 speed transmission, 649cc displacement system, 10.8:1 compression ratio and digital fuel injection with two 38mm Keihin throttle bodies," Bulma said her eyes glossing over and a smile on her lips. "0-60 in 3.1 seconds, all that and more, it's a girls wet dream come true. The sound the engine makes alone is enough to make a girl-" Bulma looked up at Vegeta midsentence, blushed then looked away.
Vegeta smirked at Bulma's embarrassment. He leaned forward, grabbed her around her waist and pulled her against his body and the machine. "Enough to make a girl what, little one?"
Bulma slowly looked up into Vegeta's eyes, her face bright red. "Cum," she said in a clear but soft voice. Desire laced her voice, clouding her eyes and drying her lips so she had to run her tongue along the seam. Vegeta squeezed the helmet in his hand as the two stared into each other's eyes. Vegeta smirked again and let go of Bulma.
"Here, put this on," he said starting the engine. Bulma pushed the helmet over her head quickly and swung her leg over the seat. She was acutely aware of how close her body was to Vegeta's. "Hang on tight little one. I wouldn't want you to fall off."
Bulma leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, her legs pressing against his and her chest pressed into the muscles of his back. Vegeta leaned forward for the handles, making Bulma press even closer to him as he pulled out into the street.
So quick survey. Would you prefer longer chapters less in number, or shorter chapters in greater numbers?
Mmm Vegeta on a crotch rocket. That man was born for it. Next chapter is Vegeta's POV, or day… whatever. And the chapter after that is kind of the end to these three chapters. Not the story, just in the outline chapters 4, 5, and 6 were all one thing lol, kind of like how 2 and 3 were originally. I separated them because I thought it would be best to get what I have written out as soon as I could you know? But that's why I asked what you, my readers, would prefer. :) Looking forward to the answers. And your reviews of course :p speaking of which, REVIEW!