Chapter 8

Bulma and Chichi sat together at a small, artsy café in the heart of West City. It was the kind of place where local amateur poets with black lipstick and gauged ears came to moan out verses about the static culture and their drug-induced visions of utopia. There was even a brick wall, a microphone, and the standard backless, high-seated chair.

Of course, no one was performing during the day. The curtains, which were drawn shut at night for added effect during these routines, were wide open and letting in the afternoon sunlight. White tablecloths were spread over the round tables and the few waitresses on duty toured them with pots of coffee in hand. Besides Bulma and Chichi, only a few other customers were dining, and they were all absorbed in their own conversations.

Bulma was staring intently at her menu, avoiding the pointed stare that ChiChi had been giving her since she got in the car. The whole way to the café, Bulma had said nothing to her friend—not because she didn't want to tell her what was going on, but just that she wasn't really sure how to express it, and especially after that awkwardness in the kitchen earlier, well… she just wanted to make sure ChiChi didn't think she was trying to be weird or anything. I mean, she does look pretty in that blouse, Bulma mused. What's wrong with pointing it out to her? That's what a good girlfriend does – she compliments her gal pals when they make the right fashion choices! I was just doing what any normal friend would do in that situation. But then Bulma remembered the way ChiChi had clasped onto her hands and looked into her eyes, uttering those few simple, yet deeply penetrating words. If anyone is beautiful, it's you. Bulma replayed them in her mind again. Oh Kami, how sweet did they sound.

Suddenly, Bulma's thoughts did a back flip. Why didn't she feel this way when Vegeta complimented her on her looks earlier? Sure, he turned out to be his typical jackass self just a quarter of an hour ago, but that didn't explain why his morning kiss and his unusual offer of praise swept through Bulma without even tingling her passion.

She couldn't dwell on that for long, though. She was still pissed at the Saiyan prince. He had embarrassed her for the last time. He was insulting, rude, and totally un-gentlemanlike to her in front of all her friends. If she could have fished every thought of him at that moment out of her brain and sealed them shut in a jar to be put away on a very high shelf and not to be found again for a very long time, she would have only been too happy to do so. Vegeta didn't deserve another ounce of transmission through her neural synapses.

"What did he say?" Bulma looked up and saw ChiChi was giving her a pursed lip and an arched eyebrow. "Don't bother asking how I know that's what you're thinking about either," ChiChi added briskly. "I can tell. It was obvious from the way you were out of there that it had to be him. Only Vegeta can make you so mad that you'd leave your own party for a frappucino, albeit a good one."

Bulma sighed. "There's no hiding the truth from you, is there?"

"I' m a mother of two," ChiChi said with a small smile. "I've been trained in the art of extracting the truth."

"Well, I don't seem to be able to keep up with Trunks' fibs, so maybe I could learn a lesson or two from you."

"Yeah—but later. For now, I want to know what's going on. What the hell did that bastard say to you?"

Bulma relayed the details as objectively as possible. ChiChi already had a pretty negative opinion of Vegeta, which she knew from the many times before she had gone to her to vent and discovered that ChiChi was all too willing to condemn the Saiyan prince before she'd even gotten to the worst parts of her stories. ChiChi meant well by listening and sympathizing, but Bulma sometimes felt that ChiChi didn't think about her feelings for Vegeta. This time round though, ChiChi waited and listened to her story all the way through – then jumped to criticize him.

"He said what?" Chichi's face contorted with disgust. "That is absolutely untrue, Bulma, and you know that. Oh my Kami, Vegeta is such an ass sometimes. What a fucking ass. Seriously, you do run a multi-billion dollar technology empire. You're not just some damsel in distress depending on all the manly men of the world to protect 're way smarter and way stronger than what he's painting you out to be."

"I know, I know." Bulma shook her head, sighing deeply. She scratched her head and held her head against her hand, which she often did when it just felt too heavy with all the pressures of the world. "I know I shouldn't let him get to me at this point. I know better. I've wasted so many years shouting and bickering and getting really mad, and all it does is steal away from my own energy. It's not like anything ever sinks through his thick Saiyan skull, and even if it did, he'd never let on. I guess I'm just tired, ChiChi. I'm tired of being 'the gal on the sidelines.' I'm sick of making radars and bombs and defensive gear and whatnot. I know I'm better than that. But I've always stood aside… well, because, you know." Bulma shrugged nonchalantly and looked expectantly at ChiChi to follow along.

But all ChiChi did was give Bulma a blank stare. The raven-haired woman searched her friend's blue eyes for some trace of an answer, but when she found none she said plainly, "No, I really don't. What do you mean?"

Bulma paused to sort through her thoughts, since they weren't entirely clear to her. She opened her mouth a few times with the intent of saying something, but kept closing it with the frustrating feeling that she really couldn't articulate how she felt. Or rather… she was realizing that what she felt really just didn't make sense.

"I guess," she finally summoned the words to speak, "that ever since Goku became an adult and he and Krillin stopped their official training with Master Roshi, I've felt more like a backdrop to all of the action on Earth."

"Bulma, they never would have been able to do the things they did without your help," ChicChi said kindly.

"I know, but you see? That's my point. I helped them do the amazing things. I didn't do the amazing things myself."

"You want to be super muscular and fight global super villains?"

"Totally," Bulma said with a straight face, making ChiChi giggle. "Seriously though. Wait until you hear this part of the story."

And Bulma also shared with ChiChi the news of Frieza's mother and her plans to resurrect her son.

ChiChi didn't say anything for several minutes when Bulma was done. She stared solemnly in her frappucino, blinking, breathing softly. When she looked up at Bulma, her eyes shown.

"Well, here's your chance to really be amazing," ChiChi said.

"What?" Bulma replied in surprise. "You're not freaked out! Frieza might be revived and more powerful than ever –and you're all for a total newbie like me to take him on?"

"First of all, yes, I'm completely freaked out. My son nearly died at the hands of that monster, and I am not interested in finding out whether he'll be successful on his next try. But… if anyone is going to take him on this time, I want it to be you. I can't believe you don't see what Dende sees in you."

"What's that?" Bulma asked, thoroughly bewildered.

"Compassion," ChiChi said with a smile. "You're not interested in saving the world just to prove you're the strongest or to get stronger or to jack off to tough battles. You just want to show that you can protect yourself and others. You want to show that you love this world and you'll do anything to save it."

"That…" Bulma was at a loss for words. "That just can't be. That's so silly."

"Is it though?" ChiChi sipped on her frappucino. "We could have avoided the whole mess with Cell if Vegeta just hadn't been an asshole interested in seeing him in his perfect form. The same with Buu. It was Goku that wanted to see him at his worst. They say they're doing these things to protect us, and maybe they do to some extent, but there's an ulterior motive always. You're more pure than that."

"I'm not pure," Bulma shook her head. "I just want to prove that Vegeta's wrong and make him eat his words. You're making me out to be way more noble than I am. And I can't believe you're being so unrealistic. I have no chance of defeating Frieza, even if I manage to design a really awesome gun – which is pretty much all I can think that Dende wants me to do."

ChiChi smiled. "I doubt it. You're not giving yourself enough credit."

"Maybe not, but I'm still feeling like this is terrible and impossible and I just want to go to sleep and not think about any of it happening." Bulma suddenly started to cry. The emotions had been welling up in her since Dende announced the terrible news in the kitchen, but she had been doing her best to be mature and rationalize the situation and stay calm. She couldn't any longer. There was so much fear and uncertainty bubbling inside of her. What would happen to them all? What if she was the one responsible for their destruction? Could she handle not being able to prevent her own son's death? What if Frieza came back and tortured Vegeta again? Would she feel so angry at him if it turned out he was right and she couldn't save him? And what about the woman sitting right in front of her? This amazing, beautiful woman who had bore two children and persevered in the absence of the man who basically abandoned them all. Who would save her? Who would keep her safe and protected, ensure her and her children's growth and love? Bulma felt so incredibly inadequate, so completely overwhelmed, how could she not cry? "It's too much," she sobbed quietly.

ChiChi came around from the other side of the table and wrapped her arms around Bulma, who readily accepted the embrace. She could smell the ChiChi's sweet scent – a mix of wonderful baking seasonings, like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla. She felt the heat emanating from her warm breasts, which were so soft and pressed against her so lovingly, and she wondered why it was that Dende had not asked her to protect the Earth from the evils of the world. ChiChi, a woman who would defend her sons even if she knew she was helpless against her opponent, was a true hero.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but make sure you're thinking positive," ChiChi murmured in that low, nurturing voice of hers. "The Bulma Briefs I know isn't going to give up this easily. I know it's scary and it's tough, but we've been through terrible times before, girl…"

"One too many," Bulma continued to cry. "I'm so, so tired of this happening…"

"I know, I know," ChiChi hushed. "And I am too. But please, Bulma. Listen to me. We need you to be strong. Dende needs you to be strong. Vegeta needs you to be strong. Trunks needs you to be strong. I need you to be strong."

Bulma looked up at this last statement. ChiChi smiled warmly at her, a smile that made Bulma hot and tingly all over. There was something unusually beautiful about the dimples that raised in ChiChi's cheeks when she smiled like that, and the way that her eyes got smaller and twinkled.

"Promise me you'll go to Dende's and hear what he has to say," Chichi said softly.

Bulma continued to stare at her for another moment, then said, "Okay. I promise. But only for you, ChiChi."

To be continued...

~Fina Arvanthol