What's Love Got to Do With It?
Her lips were soft-looking and round. Something about her seemed sensuous despite everything. He liked to watch her smoke, despite the annoyance at the idea of her not working on his machines and contraptions.
A smirk formed on his lips when he watched her lean forward just slightly to pick something up. He frowned when they were keys. The anger he felt bubbled up from his abdomen to his hair as he watched the stupid woman cross the yard without saying a word. She flicked her cigarette off absentmindedly. Off of the lit end flew a few sparks. Smoke escaped her lips. Luscious red lips of hers, he growled a little bit with a clinching fist in anger.
Unbeknown to her, of course, he watched her with a tight throat. It was, of course, only his controlling nature. He had no interest in her or her affairs. She was something to be used, a key with which he could unlock his potential.
Bulma put her shades on and started the car. She barely felt the buzz. Without direction she began to drive. She felt no regret. The scariest part was that she felt almost nothing at all. Her blankness covered her like a blanket. It wasn't comforting, though. It wasn't even empowering.
Yamucha was probably skulking about the Briefs compound, thinking of a way to get her back. Or a way to blame Vegeta for this. It wasn't long before she realized who she was trying to find: who else?
Gokou.
Her dearest friend, she would just drop in on him and not worry about anything. Oh, she knew he would be busy. But perhaps they could have lunch. Perhaps anything, really.
Bulma sighed. The drive would be long. She turned the music up so loud she couldn't think. She lit another cigarette. She didn't think to think she was being followed.
The lights were dim in the gravity chamber. It always started out slow. In the mornings, before the sun came up he was in his contraption, where he belonged, half naked and sweating, preparing for the battle.
He had a thirst for blood that no one could control. He was a beast readying himself for the kill. He could taste the carnage in his mouth. He could kill them all and take it all over, and then become a god if that was what he deemed amusing.
The weight training was effective, that's for certain. What wasn't certain was why it was that he hadn't transformed into a Super Saiya-Jin yet. This was when his thoughts floated over and over and over again the events of his trip to the planet Namek.
His birthright, this was a matter of what he was destined to obtain. Power he was meant to unlock. He tilted his neck to the side. The crack released tension. His breathing slowed. He cranked up the pressure. He dropped to the dirty floor and began his push-ups.
Two hands, one hand, one finger. Sweat poured from his body like a river. It was a matter of discipline, of course. That was all this had to be. The fool had accidentally stumbled upon a gold mine, that was the only possible explanation of his ascension.
But Vegeta, he knew better. He was the prince, after all. Of what? His bitterness was black. For a second he vaguely considered Nappa. He didn't know why that idiot came to mind. He remembered that always Nappa had been considered the stronger one. He accepted this.
He even learned to appreciate it. Appearances meant so little to him. He was used to not being taken seriously. This as well typically worked to his advantage. He was used to the verbal abuse. His mind could take it. He had no heart to speak of. He was used to the physical abuse. His body endured splendidly. It was just everything else that seemed to find it so fucking difficult to handle his intensity.
Vegeta spat blood.
With a growl he thought of Frieza. This too was his destiny. The destruction of his abuser remained the focus of his younger years and when in his deepest and most secret despair, he promised himself that ultimately he would find any means necessary to obtain the power to destroy Frieza.
This was when weird fucking shit began to occur. This was when he met Kakarotto, formally of course, because his idiot brother could not handle a very simple mission.
Earth, you see, ultimately was worth a lot on the interplanetary market. The resources it offered in addition to its spaciousness and ability to support a versatile and copious amount of lifeforms made the planet powerful.
In addition to these nifty little tidbits, Earth supplied freaks like the Namekian monster Piccolo and the idiot woman, and Kakarotto himself. Of course.
Vegeta spat. Changed arms. This got easier. His body easily adjusted to the weight.
These androids meant nothing to him. Earth meant nothing to him. What was he supposed to do, stick around and start a fucking family? He growled in annoyance. The woman was correct, unfortunately, when she said that it was Kakarotto's grace that kept him alive.
It's not as if Kakarotto was sadistic. Frieza was. He knew what it was to live as someone's plaything, to be the weaker man still standing. He knew what it was to be beaten within an inch of his life and told to stand and salute his abuser. He knew what it was to be tormented. He knew what it was to be spat on.
Kakarotto did not know how to suffer. Entirely, this was why Vegeta deemed him utterly unworthy of the power. He began to think of ways to kill the Saiya-Jin and rival as soon as he was able to reach the power.
And then of course there was the matter of that freak. The boy that claimed to be a Saiya-Jin, the one that could turn into a Super Saiya-JIn, the one that liked to play with toys.
"Pansy." Vegeta spat.
There was a puddle of blood on the floor. This was where he survived. This was where he thrived. In the battle field, fighting. Training. He felt his blood pump faster when he considered the boy. Saiya-Jins did not use weapons, they only used their tails and their endurance.
He could kill the boy too. First, perhaps. Just to taunt Kakarotto, to make it clear to him who was the boss. Then of course he could make it known how weak he was, to have allowed him to live. He should kill me while he has the chance.
Barbaric though he was, Vegeta's existence was currently appreciated. Warily, but it was known he was expected to join their forces. Kakarotto was perhaps amused at the idea of the epic battle that would immediately ensue after the defeat of the androids. This would be his downfall.
Vegeta stood. He yanked his head to the side. Crack. He cranked the gravity chamber. It began to shake. Now that he was warmed up, he was ready for a little agility training.
Bulma finally parked the car. The drive wasn't so bad. She was speeding, after all. She didn't know exactly where the cottage was and it was always hard to get a reading on it. Locating it became an exercise in her own genius.
ChiChi answered the door. She seemed flustered, sweat droplets forming across her pale forehead. Her hair was disheveled at best, her apron was evidence of the cleaning that she'd endured.
The perfect wife.
Bulma for a second blinked and saw what Yamucha perhaps was wanting her to become. And how the idea didn't suit her. How she wanted to be free and wild, how she wanted to be successful and rich. Young and beautiful forever. She didn't want to make the concession, she didn't want the kid or the family or to be cooking and cleaning forever.
"Oh, Bulma." ChiChi tried to slap a smile on, despite her clear embarrassment. When Bulma stepped in the house she noticed how it seemed comfortably spotless. It was impressive. Something smelled great. Bulma noticed that her stomach was growling. She tried to say nothing.
"Hey ChiChi. How's it going? Is this a bad time?"
Emphatically ChiChi refused to turn away a guest. "I just didn't know you would be coming. Gokou said nothing."
Bulma blushed, "I'm sorry, I forgot to call. Is Gokou... here?"
ChiChi laughed a little bit in reply, "Goku is very busy. I see him when he gets hungry. He brings his big ugly friend, too." Her smile turned into an immediate frown of disapproval.
"You'd think he'd check with his spouse before offering the house like that."
"You'd think."
Bulma turned to look at ChiChi, half wide eyed, "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean to impose. Perhaps I should-"
"No!" It was ChiChi's turn to blush when she rushed to retort, "I'm so sorry, Bulma. I didn't mean to imply it was like that with you. You're not dangerous and crazy like Piccolo is."
Bulma laughed a bit in return, "I suppose that is true. Well... since the men aren't about... would you like to have some tea or something?"
"Oh, I'd love to Bulma!" Chi clapped her hands together in delight. "I'll just be right back! Please, make yourself comfortable!"
Chichi almost ran to the bedroom where she immediately worked on fixing her hair. Lipstick? Eyeliner?
Bulma waited, at first walking around the front room. She'd been there many times before but it always seemed unfamiliar to her. Something about how inviting it was, how simple and unassuming it was frightened her. "Oh, how cute..." She exclaimed softly as she looked down at a photo of the family of three. Gohan was very young. ChiChi was very young. Gokou looked the same that he always had, big goofy grin slapped across his face. It was only in the mother and the child that the immense change was apparent.
Suddenly she began to feel odd.
"I'm sorry, did you say something Bulma?" ChiChi emerged from the room hurriedly. "I'll put some tea on. We'll catch up. So how is Yamcha?"
"Uh, he's fine. We haven't seen each other that much lately." Bulma gave a noncommittal response.
"Huh. That's funny."
"Well, I've just been busy. Vegeta keeps me very busy."
ChiChi raised a brow. "Why is it that Vegeta's getting all of your attention? That man's a maniac. He's dangerous, Bulma."
"That dangerous maniac could be the difference between victory and defeat in the end. He's willing to help Gokou battle the androids. You should have heard the things they said about the androids, Chi. It was horrifying. I, for one, am taking this very seriously. I'm helping as much as I possibly can."
"I certainly understand that." ChiChi knew what it was to sacrifice for the greater good. She sighed. The water was boiling. "I jut think that you should be careful. It's not that he can't be helpful or anything, although you and I both know that Gokou would protect us with or without that menace."
Bulma sank into the couch. "Chi... Did you have second thoughts? Before you married Gokou?"
ChiChi frowned a little bit into the teacups. "Did you want sugar, Bulma?"
"I take sugar, thank you." Her tone seemed somewhat defeated despite her best efforts. She took sugar and cigarettes and sex with strangers. She took a lot of things, all of the wrong things for that matter. But still she needed to hear it. If there was ever hesitation. If you were allowed to not be ready to do grown-up things. If they even had to be grown up things in the first place.
ChiChi returned with a tray. "I never had second thoughts about who I wanted to marry or why. Bulma, you're acting very strangely. Is something going on? Did Yamucha ask you to marry him?"
Bulma sighed a little bit into the steam coming from the teacup. She glared a little bit at it. It innocently stared back. It was delicate in her hands. She could feel the heat from the drink. "We're just going through a rough patch, I guess. I'll spare you the details. I just was wondering if it was always a matter of dead end or marriage."
"Dead end or marriage? I don't understand." ChiChi's chocolate brown eyes fixed themselves on Bulma. She couldn't fathom the things that Bulma was trying to register herself, for entirely different reasons.
Bulma sighed to herself a little bit. This was a huge mistake. "Don't you just feel like for some other couples one of the issues that people face after being together for a long time is that they can either get married and settle down together or cut their losses?"
"Well, sure, I guess. But why look at it like it's such an awful thing? You seem to have such a negative view on... marriage." Again, ChiChi frowned. She just could not wrap her head around the idea of marriage being anything but a blessing. "Don't you want a family, Bulma?"
"Well... not really. I mean. It's not that I don't want a family," She quickly said at ChiChi's shocked expression, "I just have a lot to do. Work. And I mean it's hard to really want to start a family in this world. It seems so dangerous."
"I can understand that." Chi wisely nodded. "But that's not all there is to this, is it?"
Bulma sighed again a little bit. "I just feel like Yamucha and I had a great run but now I have other interests."
Namely staying single.
"Well, Bulma... Does that mean you're waiting until after the androids business to think about something like that?"
ChiChi wouldn't understand the idea of Bulma possibly never wanting to consider marriage and a family. Instead, Bulma focused on the idea that ChiChi could understand, "Don't you think it would be more intelligent to wait for a time of peace? Why give birth in the middle of a fire? Why try to marry someone? Yamcha died on me once already."
"And you were so torn up about it you traveled across the universe just to bring him back."
Bulma cringed a little bit, to think of the emotion he inspired her before. And how little he seemed to inspire these days. How could she say she'd simply grown out of it? That perhaps she would have moved on? Bulma didn't know what to say. Her cup was almost empty. She sipped the last bits. ChiChi followed suit. "It's not that I don't love Yamucha, I'm just not in love with him. I know it's a cliche thing to say, but realize that just because I cared about him before doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to be a little jittery when I get all of this pressure to suddenly start getting really serious with him."
ChiChi shook her head, "I'm not really sure I can relate, Bulma. I loved Gokou so much as a little girl and my dream came true."
Crash.
It came suddenly and from outside. Bulma and ChiChi both flinched a little. "I guess that's Gokou."
Both moved towards the exit, but when they looked around they only found the metal tub that Gokou used to take showers in was knocked over. "Bizarre. That's really heavy and sturdy. Gokou put it up."
"What do you think happened?" Bulma looked about it, searching for dents.
"I guess it was an animal. They knock stuff down all the time. Just never really something this big." Chi frowned a little bit. In an impressive display of her power, she lifted the can back to its place by the window. She dusted her hands off thoughtfully, "There. All fixed."
Bulma wanted to ask her if that was all she aspired to be, wife and mother. She gave up her life as a warrior and ignored any of her duties as a princess in favor of this thing, this family thing.
"Well. It's looking like night's going to fall pretty early tonight."
ChiChi sighed. "It doesn't look like Gokou's going to be coming home tonight, does it?"
Vegeta did a back-flip off of the side of the gravity chamber wall. The training robots followed him, blasting a high powered laser his way. He deflected one and quickly moved to retaliate with a blast of his own.
One bot moved out of the way. Artificial intelligence is truly a beautiful thing. The other took the full force of his blast and dropped heavy to the floor.
There were three bots left. They circled him a little, speeding up as they could. Vegeta jumped and they began blasting at him again. He thrust his foot out at one. The force of his kick sent the machine flying. A dent in the side of the building resulted.
Vegeta made use of the thinning numbers and began sending out little ki blasts from both his palms. The robots endured the first round, but slowed greatly. The damage was easy. This was too easy.
Bored with it, he sent one energy blast large enough to destroy both at once. Four machines were left dead on the floor. The sweat poured from his back. Crack.
His shoulders and hands were cut and bleeding. He had a bruise across his face from an annoyingly painful laser blast. Vegeta stood and moved easily on the maximum allotted gravity.
He glared at the numbers on the screen. It didn't seem to matter how high that number got, he could not do what Kakarotto managed to do when he trained under less pressure. Vegeta was exhausted. He rubbed his face.
He began to see his father, standing in front of him. He ducked when his father's fist made way towards his face. Crouched on the ground, he moved to kick his father's feet out from under him. He would make the king fall. It took a second to realize that nothing had fallen.
No one was there.
Vegeta rubbed his eyes a little bit. Madness nipped at his heels like an annoying yapping fucking dog. The throne of Vegeta-Sei, he could see it so clearly. Another thing meant to be his. But it was never to be.
He'd locked himself away for hours. He had no way of telling what time it was, he didn't care. He cared for nothing these days. All he felt was his hatred consume him more every day, the unfairness of it all. The injustice that it was, great and terrible. Such was his existence, such was his life.
In aggravation he let out a roar. Nothing could defeat him, thus far. Or nothing would defeat him. He began pounding on the walls, the floor, anything that he could pound. Anything that could feel his force. Hatred was all he could feel, and the way that his bones felt when blood gushed out of his knuckles.
The nothingness that he was faced with remained the most painful part of this entire process.
Bulma sighed and threw a cigarette out her window. When she parked her car, she looked over the see the gravity chamber contentedly humming its violent tune.
Vegeta was really in his element, destroying things. With a shake of her head she sighed. Babysitting him was most definitely not her idea of a good time but she made the mental note to make sure that he would come out and get something to eat (probably shower too) later on. She felt the tiniest bit drained.
When it became apparent that her friend would not be returning for the evening, Bulma loyally ate dinner with ChiChi in near silence. They both entertained different sorts of thoughts and they'd been separated culturally and ideologically long before the silence. Chi was most definitely not some weak woman that thought that subservience was a way of life. She simply had a dream, and that included someone to love forever.
She made her way to her room and closed the door. She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground. She was left alone with her half-naked body, her lacy panties and bra. Bulma was entirely too exhausted, mentally or emotionally, to bother dressing. Or even pulling the covers from her bed. She was preoccupied.
Bulma didn't know why she didn't care for the idea of marriage. When she crashed on her bed, she pondered on it as she could. Soon, though, she felt sleep call to her and her eyelids became heavy. She did not deny the temptation.
His hands were hard and heavy, but his body was trim and perfect. His teeth were big and sharp. Taking in his scent, his everything, she felt tingles in her belly when his lips closed over hers. She let out a moan when she felt his powerful arms curl around her waist. Closer. Closer. Closer. This was all that she could think of.
The six pack alone was to die for. The muscle definition, the scars, his rough tanned skin. But every time her lips moved over them, down and ready and willing to peel off his pants and her own, sticky from her anticipation, her eyes shot open...
"Vegeta!" She practically shouted his name to no one in particular. In a rush she moved to her lab a few corridors down. She tied a robe around her waist as she moved, the pace even quickened to a bit of a jog as she reached the door to her lab. She slapped it open, pounded the passcode on the keypad and waited for an image of him to pop up on her screen.
There he was, unconscious on the gravity chamber. She glanced to the side in her shock and he'd left it at over 500Gs. Panic did not immediately set in.
She began manually shutting the machine down. The lights went off but Vegeta's body was perfectly still in the darkness. Patiently, she even knew to prepare a medical bed for him. Somehow she managed to keep her calm, to not kill him herself. Or think of it too much.
In nothing but her lab coat, Bulma continued out the back. She crossed the yard, concern written all about her face. She tried to push the fact that it was her intuition that was saving his life currently, and that it was these dirty dreams of him that she was having that were driving her insane.
Yamcha, torn up over Bulma's rejection, easily could have found solace in the arms of another. And when he dragged his best friend to the bar he said little about the woman that he loved.
But after each shot discussing sports became a pretty useless exercise. Depression began to sink in. Krillin knew it as well. "Man," he hiccuped a little bit, "You've gotta tell me wha's wrong. You've just gotta. Sumthin's really getting you all upset."
"It's Bulma." He took a gulp. Another. "Aside from the fact that I'm pretty sure she has the hots for Vegeta, she just dumped me. Again."
Krillin looked confused. Suddenly, he burst into little bubbles of giggles, "Vegeta? Woah, man, that's really funny. Bulma doesn't even like Vegeta."
"She doesn't necessarily need to like him to be attracted to him, does she?"
"Well, what proof do you have?" Krillin thoughtfully asked. He took a gulp.
Yamucha, "Well for one she keeps talking about these dreams she's been having. Who the Hell dreams of some guy and then tells her boyfriend about it before breaking up with him?"
Again, laughing almost hysterically, Krillin took a drink. "Bulma."
Yamucha, in his utter annoyance, growled. "So you just think this all is a joke." He took a gulp. His drink was done. Another. "I was, I was going to ask that woman to marry me."
His slurs were becoming worse. He could barely feel his face. That's how he knew the alcohol was working. But he could still feel his heart. He could certainly feel it beating, and he could feel it breaking. And that was enough to order more drinks.
"That's pretty rough, Yamcha. Are you sure you didn't do anything?"
"Wha'dya'mean?"
"Well. Dontcha just think that it's a little weird that Bulma would randomly just want you out of the picture?"
"Not if she really does have the hots for Vegeta. Fucking hothead, man. She's just got it bad for any bad boy that comes along. Don't you think she's a little too old for that whole bad boy thing?"
Krillin shook his head and his drink. Beer spilled. Yamucha groaned a little bit. "Dude, you were one of those bad guys. At least you had a shot with Bulma."
"Dude, what the Hell does that mean?" A defensive Yamucha almost shouted. The bartender cocked a brow but said nothing out of something between fear and respect for the friends.
"Look, maybe Bulma just needs a break. This happened to you before. I mean, you've been talking about marriage, right?"
Yamucha tried to make sense of Krillin's drunken babbling. "So? I love Bulma. I want to be with her forever."
"Well, last time you guys got serious you freaked off and ran off and took some other girl on a date. That was right before you died, remember?"
"Yes, Krillin. I remember dying very clearly."
The bartender frowned a little bit.
"Keep 'em coming!" Yamucha almost bellowed out at him. Then he turned to his companion. "So what are you getting at?"
"I don't know, so what she has a crush on Vegeta? She used to have a huge crush on Goku. She even liked me, if I do say so myself." Krillin smiled a little bit and raised his brows a little bit.
Yamucha punched him in the arm, "That's Bulma we're talking about here! And I don't know why any of those mental images are something I would even want to be thinking of."
"You may not, but what if she realizes what a jerk he is and comes running back to you? If all this is is about playing the field, then maybe Bulma just needs some time to realize nothing else better is out there."
"So it should just be okay to me that my girlfriend doesn't love me enough to want to be with me."
"Look, are we talking about you loving Bulma or Bulma loving you?"
Yamcha sighed. "Go on."
"Well. First," Krillin hiccuped, "You need to figure out why Bulma broke up with you. But you can't just ask her..."
She couldn't manage to even pick up his body. She always had... Bulma sighed in frustration. She always had Yamcha around to pick Vegeta up and take him to the medical lab for her. She tried to wrap his arm around her neck so she could get him up. He was completely out of it.
"Hey, look, you stubborn stupid monkey prince asshole! Please, I need you to get up! I need you to wake up and I need you to prove to Gokou that my contributions are fantastic! You're my project, buddy! I can't present you to the gang as a reformed fighter with remarkable skill all thanks to my greatness if you die!"
Unresponsive. He's not responding.
She slapped him. Over and over again. She pulled him by his legs out of the gravity chamber. His body was limp.
In her intense frustration, she began to plead with him, "Vegeta! Please!"
But she only felt alone in the darkness. She dragged him out by the arm. He was so heavy. Where was her father? Where was anybody? Where was Goku? She groaned inwardly. It was then that she looked up and made a wish for someone, anyone, to help her.
"Bulma!"
She recognized that voice. Bulma looked up into Yamcha's dark eyes. He smiled at her a little. She smiled warily back. "He's hurt, badly. Please. Help me get him inside."
Yamcha nodded without word. He picked him up.
"How did you know I needed you?" Bulma sighed, rubbing her shoulder.
He looked over his at her, "Did you hurt yourself?"
"He just weighs a lot." She laughed a little bit. So hard she began to cough. And shake.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
Bulma shook her head and got professional again, "It's okay. I'm fine." She tightened her coat, embarrassed now at how little she had under it. "I need to go in there and keep him alive." She pointed her thumb at the door.
"I'll be waiting for you. If that's okay."
Bulma smiled at him, this time genuinely. "Sure."
Yamcha watched Bulma in the warm afternoon. She was sitting outside without much of an expression on his face. He passed out and didn't wake up until late in the afternoon. Immediately he recalled his conversation from the previous night with Krillin. He headed to Capsule Corporations.
"Now I'm not telling you to -spy- on her or anything..."
"Of course not."
"But I mean if you so happen to be in the area and you notice what she's doing, then maybe you can get a better handle on what it is you're dealing with."
"That's true."
"It just makes sense to investigate this a little, since it's all so sudden."
Bulma threw her cigarette away. She got inside her car and sped off. Torn between watching Vegeta and watching Bulma, Yamcha groaned and flew off in the direction that Bulma went.
Soon he realized where she was going. Gokou's. That would prove interesting. Was she looking for friendly advice? Was she looking for... a good lay? Yamcha blinked away the thought. Truth be told, he'd been jealous of Gokou for a long time. The way that Bulma's heart skipped when he was there for a good few years was not missed. It made him miserable. But they saw Gokou so rarely that it didn't even seem to matter.
And then, when it really sank in that Goku was in a committed relationship with ChiChi she seemed to care less. But he never forgot.
Yamcha beat Bulma to the mountain. He sat around reminiscing for a few moments before she emerged from the sky. It was so interesting to him that Bulma would turn to Gokou in this time. He scoffed, thinking that Gokou would hardly care. Gokou was preoccupied with other things. His own wife probably got little to no attention.
And yet he was offering something much better to Bulma. Yamcha grabbed a piece of fruit and snacked on it. Then, he crept slowly towards the door of the cottage.
ChiChi seemed uncomfortable.
"Dead end or marriage? I don't understand."
Yamcha gulped. He had to get closer. In his efforts to more clearly understand what the women were discussing, he moved by the window.
"It's not that I don't love Yamucha, I'm just not in love with him. I know it's a cliche thing to say, but realize that just because I cared about him before doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to be a little jittery when I get all of this pressure to suddenly start getting really serious with him."
The words stung like knives. And yet he was compelled absolutely to move in closer and closer and closer to hear what she was saying until...
Crash.
Like a flash Yamcha disappeared into the trees. When the women came out of the house to see what or who had made the noise they didn't see him. They said nothing else about him.
What am I going to do?
Bulma immediately needed to assess Vegeta's condition. She ripped off the remnants of his torn pants. There was no shirt. She could tell as it was he was wearing weighted clothes, "I told you to be careful, damnit!"
Checking his vitals proved, at least, that he was alive. He was likely to be out for a while. She was running wild about the room setting up all sorts of programs to ensure that he was taken care of. She would have to watch him all night.
She turned around to look at him. He was almost naked entirely in front of her. This would have been the first time she saw him naked. The issue was insane. "I don't understand why you don't behave, Vegeta. I tell you that it can't take it. I tell you that you can't take it! And yet..."
It seemed that all she was really left to do was sigh today. After ensuring his stability, Bulma left Vegeta to rest and came out to the front room to see Yamucha half-asleep on her couch. "Well, you're certainly the unlikely hero of the day."
"Unlikely?" He smiled at her a little bit. "What's so unlikely about me?"
Bulma grinned back at him, "I just think that it's weird that you heard me."
Yamcha shrugged in response, "I was only in the area."
She raised a brow.
He laughed, "Okay. So I was pacing around a few blocks trying to think of ways to get you here. I heard you shouting and grunting and I came over. I thought something entirely different was happening."
"What, that Vegeta and I-"
"Uh, no." Yamcha cut her off quickly. He needed to get that man out of her thoughts as quickly as possible. "I just thought that maybe you were in trouble. I guess I'm glad I came." They looked warmly at each other for a few seconds, "Hey, you look kinda bad, Bulma. Not bad like you're not beautiful, because that would never happen-"
"Yamucha..." A sigh.
"-BUT because you're tired." Yamcha winked at her, and her exhaustion. She was forced to smile back at him.
"I AM tired." She nodded back at him."I didn't know how I was going to get him inside without you. He owes his life to you."
Yamcha chuckled a little, "Don't tell him that. He'd hate it. Let's just keep that between us... Why don't you go to sleep?"
"I need to keep track of him." Bulma pulled her lab coat around herself tightly. She kept doing that, like she was trying to hide in her coat. Trying to conceal something.
Yamcha fought the urge to roll his eyes or vomit. "I just think that you could potentially be sacrificing yourself for him."
Bulma shook her head, "Well. Should I prepare a guest room for you?"
"No, no. Nothing like that, Bulma. I couldn't impose. I'm just here to help. But tell you what, call me if you need something?"
Bulma found herself blushing a little bit. "Don't you think that you're welcome here, as the hero of the night?"
Yamcha smiled boldly back at her. "I just think that if you want to thank me, you should always let me know if you need anything. I want to be friends, Bulma. Come on. We can get through this, couple or not. I'm willing to do what it takes."
The words comforted her like nothing else ever could have. She looked at him, and said quite genuinely, "Thank you. I will. I want very much for that too. And it's..."
Yamcha turned back, halfway out the door to look seriously at her.
"It's not that I don't care. Don't think that."
"Okay, Bulma. Well, goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Oh how cute.
They all were beating him at once, his father and Kakarotto and Frieza and Nappa and the boy, the Saiya-Jin boy that just randomly popped into his life one day. They all hated him, their eyes glowering at him like embers in darkness.
He wanted to shout or even respond to the pain he felt, but ultimately nothing came out. And one by one they all went Super Saiya-Jin. One by one they all presented the power that he did not have. They taunted him with it.
His body ached.
With a roar of fury, Vegeta came to consciousness. He suddenly realized that someone'd been wiping the sweat from his brow. Bulma almost yowled in pan when he grabbed her wrist.
"That breaks, you know! You moron!"
Vegeta let go, slowly. Truly, there was a bruise forming purple on her wrist. She rubbed it a little bit. "So good to see you're alive, Vegeta."
Blankly, he looked around. He was in the hospital wing. Bandages were everywhere.
"I cleaned and dressed all your wounds. You're welcome."
"So you're proving useful after all."
In annoyance Bulma shoved her hand into her lab coat's pocket. A pack of cigarettes was fished out. She lit up. Lights began blinking. A robot beeped out, "Smoking in room 782. Smoking in room 782. Kindly put it out."
Bulma leaned forward, giving him a good view of her cleavage and a bit of a bra and typed in an override code. Vegeta began moving to slap off all the wires connected to him, but Bulma gave him a look that exhausted him. He put his hands down. "You're a moron, Woman. I did not ask you to come over here and help me!"
"Vegeta, just come off of it, now! I'm exhausted. Just stay in the med wing tonight. Half of your becoming a powerful warrior is making sure that you don't break yourself in the process. You're no good to me or anyone else if you don't live."
Vegeta glared. Suddenly he jumped off of the bed. He was getting closer to her. Initially she had no response but as she felt his presence too close to hers, her thoughts returned to the dream. He did not miss the flash of red that crossed her cheeks. Vegeta smirked.
Bulma backed up a bit. "Vegeta, get back in bed."
Her voice was soft.
"Weak little woman, what are you going to do about it? Is that all you do, yap around all day? Is that all you're good for?"
"I'm plenty good for making your damn machines!"
"Yes, and I see that you've been playing with your boyfriend again instead of proving to be useful. He reeks, I can smell him all over you."
Bulma shook her head, "Look here, you! I'm proving you with medicine and care and-"
"And what else are you good for, stupid little Earth woman?" He looked at the cigarette.
Bulma felt something rushing up and down from her throat to her toes back up to her brain. "I'll have you know that Yamcha's the one that saved your life!"
"Is he, now?" Vegeta was smirking now. His face got too close to hers. He was just fucking with her now. Bulma didn't know what to do. She put her cigarette out on his arm. For a second he examined the burn mark. Then, in a fluid motion he threw the cigarette to the side. He grabbed Bulma by the hips and pushed her onto her desk. Medical devices fell to the floor. Bulma was shaking inside and out, barely able to breathe.
"There's something I need you to understand." He was talking down to her now, but she was watching him so intently that she forgot to care. "You're not the one that's in charge here."
With that, he leaned in and pushed her back with a stern hand. She caught herself against the back wall, but in her rush to regain her balance, she hit her head and her arms flew back, her lab coat falling completely open in the darkness in his eyes glittered at her. The perverted thoughts that crossed his mind almost frightened her. Blood rushed to her head and she tasted it, and vaguely wondered if she'd hit her tongue, out but she couldn't even cry out in pain due to her shock, so quickly had Vegeta pushed her away from him and stalked off undoubtedly back towards the Gravity Chamber.
Vegeta watched as the stupid woman came out and lit a cigarette. She'd been acting oddly all day, which was particularly annoying to him. Typically it took minimal arguing to get her to lock herself in her laboratory where she would toil all day for him to ensure that he had constant quality updates.
He was mostly unsure of why she was so supportive of him. She must have known that she would be the first on he would kill after disposing of Kakarotto. Crack.
Vegeta continued through, mostly ignoring her. Women, as he learned, were largely a distraction and worthless. There were only so many functions a woman could serve, and any given woman is only good for so long. This Bulma had grown on his nerves, and as far as Vegeta was concerned, she was possibly the worst type of woman. Women. Truly frustrating creatures. They were all prostituting themselves for something, it was just a matter of what. Vegeta sent scores of punches in the air. A kick. He went to the master controls to increase the gravity.
Her lips were soft-looking and round. Something about her seemed sensuous despite everything. He liked to watch her smoke, despite the annoyance at the idea of her not working on his machines and contraptions.
A smirk formed on his lips when he watched her lean forward just slightly to pick something up.
Oh the things he had planned for her, once Kakarotto was dead.
-CL