Wow. I'm really updating fast, huh? ^_^
Enjoy.
Chapter Two
"Ow...OW! Not so hard."
Bulma smiled reassuringly but sure enough, she pressed the cloth onto Yamcha's face much harder then need be and he winced and whimpered.
"Bu-OW!" He jumped away from her and sent her an accusative look. "What's on that?"
She cocked her head to the side in an attempt to feign innocent. "Just alcohol. It'll heal the cut. But I suggest ice to make the swelling go down. I'll go get it." She smiled again and stood up to retrieve the item from the fridge.
Yamcha pouted, cringing from the stinging on his head. Although he thought about bolting, he sat silently on the living room couch until the blue haired mogul returned with a large ice pack.
"I can- AH!" He screamed out in pain when she pushed the pack on his face with excessive force. "Jeez Bulma! I can do it!" He told her, yanking it from her grip and applying it on more softly. He narrowed his eyes at the woman but only got a slight shrug of her shoulders for an apology. Obviously she wasn't quite over the break up yet, he thought dryly.
Bulma smirked inwardly. Served him right, she thought victoriously, now he knew just how much I'm hurting.
But no matter how much she enjoyed causing him pain in some sort of juvenile revenge, she hadn't liked figuring out that Vegeta had somehow been the reason why the bump had formed on Yamcha's face in the first place. And all the cocky Saiyan Prince did in his own defense was smirk graciously. No guilt forming in his black hole of a heart.
The man in question was leaning on the back wall of the living room, arms crossed of course with a blank expression. She turned to give him a look but he showed no inkling that he even noticed them.
"Is it going down?"
Bulma turned to look at Yamcha with his lip out in a pout, pointing at his forehead. It was black and purple and a jagged cut was running through it. To be honest, she actually thought it was getting bigger. "Uh...It'll go down." She laughed nervously and then turned to glance at Vegeta again with a frown.
This time he was staring right at her, a knowing smirk on his lips. Apparently, he was fond of physical abuse. She narrowed her eyes but his smirk only grew.
"I hope it doesn't leave a permanent scar." Yamcha was muttering, shaking his head. Both of them broke eye contact to glance at him. "If it does, someone is going to pay." He gave the shorter male a nice glare after that sentence. They all knew what he was implying.
Bulma raised an eyebrow as she watched the two males stare at each other, neither blinking. She sensed the tension increase as each second passed and wondered why it felt like there was some sort of rivalry brewing between them. Don't get her wrong, she never considered them to be friends (never that) but she hadn't picked up on any type of challenge. Vegeta was rude to everyone so it was normal for Yamcha to dislike him but...
The atmosphere in the room now was different. Bulma had only seen Vegeta react like this to one other person:
Goku.
"It's looks much better now." Bulma finally spoke up, breaking the moment. Both of the men looked away to stare at her and she smiled.
"Really?" Yamcha asked uncertainly as he touched it gently.
"Yep." She nodded. "You look like a...movie star."
Vegeta snorted.
Yamcha shot him another glare and Bulma sighed. "Do you need something, Vegeta?"
"Has your tiny brain forgotten already?" He sneered. "The contraption has a hole in it. Again."
No, she hadn't forgotten. "Why don't you ask my father to fix it? He should be in his lab."
Vegeta raised an eyebrow and stared at her for a beat before simply walking out.
"Jeez," Yamcha started as soon as the Saiyan was out of ear shot. "I can't stand that guy. I just don't see how you put up with him and his attitude."
"He's not that bad." She shrugged it off. "Besides, I think the feeling is mutual. He didn't seem very warm to you."
"Is he warm to anyone?" He scowled.
"He's nice to my dad.....sorta. It's more like he respects my father."
"But he doesn't respect you."
Bulma narrowed her eyebrows and for some strange reason, she felt...angry. She felt the need to defend Vegeta. To defend their relationship. What relationship!? He does disrespect me! So why do I wanna defend him!? She thought in confusion. After all, I had just whined and moaned about him to Goku and Chichi. Why do I feel defensive when someone else does it?
Because she felt that only she could do it?
Because it was Yamcha and anything out of his mouth right now would make her angry?
Because deep down she really believed Vegeta was an okay guy?
Hopefully it was just number two and she was exaggerating. Nevertheless, Bulma stood up from her seat and glowered down at Yamcha. "Why are you here anyway? Is there something you wanted? Because I'm afraid that if you only came to badmouth Vegeta then you can just leave right now."
Yamcha blinked up at her with an open mouth, totally baffled. Finally, he stuttered, "I-I-Are you defending him!?"
She bit her lip but stood her ground. "What do you want, Yamcha? I'm busy."
He shook his head as if to clear it and then muttered, "Well...I came to apologize. You know, for...a couple days ago." He snatched the bouquet of flowers from behind him on the couch and held them up. A couple were bent, two had lost their leaves and some were missing but he still grinned sheepishly and offered them to her.
Since she couldn't bear to decline them, Bulma took them and smiled appreciatively. Sitting them in a vase, she made a mental note to get rid of them later. "Is that all?"
"Uh..."He scratched his head."Welll...am I forgiven?" He made puppy dog eyes that only seemed to work for him and she groaned inwardly. "Can we try again?"
No, she thought, tell him no. Tell him that we break up way too much and that it wasn't going to work out. Tell him it's time to finally move on.
But his big eyes were staring at her, pleading her to take him back. The swollen bump was making her feel guilty, as if it was saying, "If YOU hadn't taken Vegeta in then YAMCHA wouldn't have gotten hit." And then he smiled; one of his dreamy, you-can't-resist-me smiles and Bulma found herself saying with a grin of her own,
"Yeah. We can try again."
"There ya go, my boy." Dr. Briefs said happily as he exited the Gravity Room. He turned to the widow peaked male who had waited impatiently for the hole to be fixed. Luckily, it had only taken a little over half an hour. "But I suggest you try to take it slower, Vegeta. Yo-"
"I didn't ask for your suggestions, old man." The Prince spat out before sidestepping him, walking in and closing the door afterwards. He had just about enough of the man's concerned 'thoughts'. He didn't understand the significance of his hard training. If he didn't reach Super Saiyan then he'd be a failure. He'd be the odd ball out. He'd be a weakling.
Kakarot reached it. Even the future boy reached it.
And, he'd be damned if he didn't either.
So, with his determination fueled by the males who had somehow managed to surpass him, he set the gravity on 500x's and began his rigorous training once more.
Bulma hummed happily to herself as she spun around before her full length mirror. She was decked out in an elegant, strapless, ivory colored dress that barely reached the floor. After one more twirl, she nodded her head and confirmed that this would be the dress she'd wear on her date with Yamcha later on.
BOOM.
She slowly began to take it off, careful not to rip it and laid it on her bed. With one last look at it and a contented smile, she turned and began getting dressed in her previous attire. After she was done, she stared at herself in the mirror and wondered if she should do something different with her hair. It was still-
THUMP.
-in the same afro style she had had in when Goku first arrived back. Maybe she'd cut it? Or maybe just-
BANG.
-flat iron it out. It was long enough to hang past her shoulder blades. That'd look cute right? She bit her lip, and then glanced down at her fingernails, wondering if she should do something to them as well. A nice-
SLAM.
A nice-
BAM.
A nice-
CRASH!
"Damn it!" She exclaimed angrily, marching out of her room and downstairs. As she headed out the back door, her mother appeared. All smiles and giggles like always.
"Where are you off too, sweetie?" The blond asked cheerily.
"To give that Vegeta a piece of my mind." She muttered, opening the door. "I can barely hear myself think! And if I don't look gorgeous on this date with Yamcha then I'll personally MURDER that bigheaded midget." That said, Bulma stormed out.
"Have fun, dear." Was all her mother called before walking away, shaking her blond curls as she muttered about kids in love.
Bulma stomped outside, across the lawn and over to the GR while the sounds of wreckage only intensified, booming loudly. She wondered vaguely if any of her neighbors heard it.
Psh, of course. He was making so much noise that people on Mars could hear him. The whole city was probably up due to his racket. Good thing that this was Capsule Corporation. Everyone probably suspected they were just making some big, new invention for the world to use.
She came to a stop outside of the large circular device, hit a bottom on the front of it and out flipped a perfect square tile. If you looked closer you would see that it was the Gravity Room's circuit breaker.
Grabbing the switch, she smiled before turning it down and watching the lights inside instantly flash off.
There was only a short minute of silence before the door was opened and out burst Vegeta, eyebrows narrowed dangerously, hands in fist. He stopped short when he saw her and growled. He opened his mouth to say something, spotted the open electrical unit and then glared at her, eyes flashing. The whole thing seemed like déjà vu to her. How many times had he given her that death glare?
She held up her hand from a sure onslaught of curses from him. "Before you say anything, I'll let you know that I only turned it off because you were making an unreasonable amount of noise. I couldn't even concentrate on getting ready for a date. I'll turn it back on but you have to promise to keep it down."
Vegeta looked at her as if she had grown another head. "Oh, is that right?" He finally sneered heatedly. "Well, I'm so sorry. I hadn't realized I was making such a commotion. I promise not to do it again."
Bulma blinked at his compliance and then smiled warmly. "You see, Vegeta? We can totally get along-"
Suddenly, she saw the ground rush up to meet her. But before she hit head first, something grabbed her ankle and abruptly stopped her fall. She then found herself staring into the dark, angry eyes of Vegeta.
"Wha-!" She blinked rapidly to clear it and then looked up and gasped. Turns out that Vegeta had her by her ankle.
And she was hanging upside down.
This would explain why an ache was beginning to form in her head.
"Now get this straight woman," Vegeta growled. "I have never nor will I ever even attempt to 'get along' with you. And to be perfectly honest, it won't eat me up inside at night if we never get along."
She wiggled in his grip and scowled. "Let me go you pompous ASS!"
"I will let you go. But I swear if you interrupt my training again, you will wish you'd never met me." Then he let her go.
She tumbled onto her back and yelped as pain shot up her spine. Groaning, she rubbed her back and screamed, "Too late for that!"
He simply 'hmphed' and then reached out to flick the switch back up. But before he could, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. He turned to raise an eyebrow at the blue haired woman who had managed to get up quick enough and grab him.
It wasn't as if she was strong enough to stop him but the fact that she was touching him that threw Vegeta all off. Her hand was soft and dainty and for a split second, his mind flashed with the thought of how her hands would feel on different parts of his body.
Then the thought was gone and his uneasiness turned back into anger. How dare she touch him!
But before he could speak, she did, "How dare you touch me!" Exactly what he had been thinking. She was glaring daggers at him. "If you had any decency then you'd know it's rude to hit a woman."
"I never hit you-"
"Yeah but I bet you wanted to. Honestly Vegeta, I thought you were improving. I even defended you to Yamcha, for goodness sake." She was shaking her head, as if the idea was ridiculous now.
To cover up his surprise and a tinge of some other emotion foreign to him, Vegeta narrowed his eyes and growled, "I never asked you to-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." She took her hand off of his wrist. "You're a loner. A 'bad boy' who doesn't need any one. How much longer do you think you'll live under those standards?"
Something flickered in his gaze; Confusion, fear, fury, pain. She wasn't sure what. "I've lived like this all my life." He said quietly, voice drenched in intensity. "And I intend to continue like this."
Then she smiled, a little, sad smile that made him feel pitied. "Well, I really hope you don't. Because I don't think you'll get anywhere in life like that. And you won't achieve anything either."
He heard the implied tone of her voice. He saw what she meant. And instantly, he felt rage engulf him. She has no fucking idea what I can do, he thought, maybe she'll see after I snap her neck!
But before he could even make a move, she did. At first he blinked and furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her pull her hand back. Then he smirked, knowing full well that she wouldn't do what it looked like she was going to do.
SMACK.
Vegeta's head snapped to the right from the force of her smack and he stood still, his face in complete confusion and disbelief, the imprint of her hand on his cheek, while she stood hands on hips.
"That's for dropping me."
And that was the last thing he heard before she walked away.
Eight O'clock.
Only an hour until her date with Yamcha.
"Shouldn't you be getting dressed, dear?"
It was her mother. Always the nosy one. Always the anxious one. Bulma looked up from her spot at the kitchen table to smile nervously. She would have been getting dressed if there hadn't been a large stain on the ivory dress she had picked out. Now she would have to wait until it was washed. How Bulma had managed to overlook it until now was beyond her. Her unawareness probably was because of Vegeta.
After the incident between them, he had actually been considerably quieter. No more loud booms, no more unnecessary noise. So, all turned out good right?
Wrong.
Why was she feeling so...bad? So guilty? She was sure that if she had to, she'd slap him again.
No, no, it wasn't about the slap; she realized suddenly, it was about the look on his face after she had told him he'd never achieve anything. They had both knew what she had meant. That he'd never reach Super Saiyan.
Looking back on it, Bulma did feel bad about her word choice. She shouldn't have said something like that knowing how touchy the man was about the subject. And the look on his face after she'd struck him had only managed to make her feel worse. Like someone had taken his pride.
Sighing, Bulma stood and walked out of the kitchen. Her mother, with her short memory asked again in concern, "Sweetie, why aren't you getting ready?"
Ignoring her mom, the blue haired woman once again stepped outside into the backyard and the crisp cool night air hit her quickly. She sighed in content and glanced up at the bright stars in the sky. Such a pretty sight.
Then, she squared her shoulders, glanced straight ahead and took a deep breath. It was going to take quite a lot of courage, energy and dignity to apologize to Prince Vegeta.
But before she could take another step closer to the Gravity Machine, it exploded.