I don't know why I can't stop updating this story. I guess I should consider it good fortune that I don't have writers' block at least.
Chapter Six
Irony.
It was a bitch. The most irritating concept in language. Because, no matter when it was used, there was a very surprising and bittersweet conclusion.
This was the thought in Vegeta's mind as he appeared before the crouched figure of the ex- bandit and the blue haired woman just in time to turn his body so his beam, his Final Flash, could pierce his right arm instead of them or the ground. The pain was pretty severe and the Prince grunted through clenched teeth and, on some prideful, sadistic level, he was glad that it hurt so much. Since that meant that he was getting more powerful because this was, as he had said before, his very own beam.
He would have deflected it but there hadn't been enough time. So all he could do was get in its path.
The explosion next produced a painfully bright light and he was thrown backwards onto his back.
Irony, he thought bitterly. This was the very definition of that:
Shooting a Ki blast at an opponent but, at the last second, getting in its way to save him. Albeit, he hadn't wanted to save Yamcha. He was just indirectly in the equation.
He wanted to save Bulma.
But the reason for that was too unbearable and unreasonable to think about so he didn't. He just closed his eyes and endured the sharp pain racing through his arm.
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Bulma finally opened her eyes slowly and blinked. She had expected to experience pain but nothing came. She then peeked out of the arms of Yamcha who was still holding onto her tightly and looked around.
Wait, she was still at Capsule Corporation? Not Heaven? (Because she did believe she'd go to Heaven and not Hell)
Yamcha stirred next and his expression let her know that he was just as baffled and confused about the outcome as well. Obviously, he didn't think he'd survive.
The two broke apart and turned; only to see the short figure of Vegeta laid out on his back in quite a large crater. Panic instantly engulfed Bulma and she crawled over to him in less then a few seconds and gasped down at his body.
His right arm was bloody; very, very bloody. The short sleeves on his shirt had been seared off on that side and all the blood was dripping down onto the grass and soaking his shirt.
Damn, it was a lot of blood.
"Holy shit." Apparently, Yamcha thought so also.
The few stragglers, who had stayed after, stood up from their crouched position and looked on at the scene before them with anxiety. Yatsuki Greens was one of them. Unfortunately, his cameraman had taken off so he couldn't report what he saw.
But then again, he wouldn't have. Because his mouth was wide open, his mic had dropped from his hand and his toupee was lopsided on his shiny, bald head. He was speechless and couldn't form any words at all.
Bulma frantically motioned for Yamcha to come over. "Come on! We have to get him inside! He's losing a lot of blood." Her voice was a mere squeak of fear but she couldn't really hear herself. The blood was rushing through her ears, pounding painfully and she couldn't take her eyes off of Vegeta.
Yamcha wasn't as sympathetic as she was. He noticed the worry and concern in her voice and grimaced at it. Was she serious?
"Yamcha!" She whirled to face him; eyes wide. "Come ON! We gotta get him inside!" Her heart was pounding painfully against her ribcage and for a minute, she thought she was having a heart attack. Oh God...Oh God...
But Yamcha wasn't moving. He was still on the ground, staring at her with a set jaw. What the fuck was wrong with him?
"Yamcha damn it-" She stopped mid sentence and turned towards the man lying on the ground when he grunted and hope filled her eyes. "Vegeta!?"
His eyes snapped open, dark and wary as they flickered to her face. They narrowed when he saw how upset she was because that had been exactly what he wished she wouldn't be. He coughed and tried to sit up and was only mildly annoyed when she put his good arm around her shoulders and helped him rise. He wanted to stop her; yell at her and tell her that he didn't need her help, shove her away from him, something that didn't leave him leaning on her for support.
But he didn't. Not because the pain was too extreme. More so because he liked the way she felt, the warmth she gave off, the perfumed scent of her skin. He liked the way she put a hand on his chest and made sure to be extra careful as they walked inside Capsule Corporation.
And most of all, he liked the way she was smiling at him right now. An exasperated but relieved smile. Like she was glad that he was okay but knew that, on some level, they'd be in this spot again someday. Because, after all, she couldn't stop him from the reckless things he did.
Vegeta grimaced at his own thoughts, wondering why in the hell he was trying to dig so much deeper into her facial expressions and body language.
And why had he made a reference about her that indicated they were, in a way, in a relationship? Whether it be as friends or...more.
While the Prince mulled in frustration over these things, Yamcha watched them disappear into the dome shaped building with his own thoughts and a grimace. Bulma had barely glanced at him while she carried Vegeta off.
And damn it, Yamcha hadn't liked the image of his girlfriend helping someone who had almost killed him or at least, injured him badly.
Go figure.
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"Damn it woman, could you be any slower?"
Bulma rolled her eyes and shot the short man sitting on the bed in the infirmary a withered look. "I'm trying not to hurt you, okay?" She said before continuing to wrap the bandages around his recently cleaned off arm.
"For the last time; you will not hurt me." He said arrogantly. Well, he was back to normal, she thought wryly. It had been surprising enough when he had left her help him all the way here without so much as a word or glare but she guessed that it was too much to ask if he could just shut the hell up and let her do this the way she wanted to do.
Her father, who had been down in his lab working on the new dimensions and what not for the Gravity Machine he intended to make, had spotted her as she came in and had instantly gone into alert. After letting him know everything was alright, Bulma brought Vegeta here to clean his wound, put some alcohol on it and bandage it up. Her mother was no where in sight so they concluded that she was probably out shopping. Which was perfectly logical considering that Vegeta ate so much.
Now, the blond woman chose to prance into the room with a fresh plate of fruits and sandwiches piled up, her usual smile lighting up her flawless face. "My my," She cooed at the Saiyan much to his annoyance, sitting the plate down on a nearby table. "I heard you got hurt again, Vegeta."
Bulma covered up a smile at her mother's transparent attempts at flirting and keep wrapping his arm.
Vegeta shot the older woman a glare that didn't seem to faze her.
"I just brought up some food so you can heal up better." She grinned down at him and patted his good arm. "I know how fit you like to be."
Then, she was off, humming happily to herself, not bothering to close the door.
"Disgusting." Vegeta spat out, shaking his head. "That maddening old maid makes me want to vomit."
"Oh come on," Bulma couldn't help but grin at his expression of pure revulsion. She didn't know why but it made her feel a tinge happier that he hadn't came on to her mother at all. She might have been a wee bit annoying but she was pretty, no doubt. But of course he wouldn't come on to a weak Earthling woman. The thought made her smile diminish some. "My mom isn't that bad."
He scoffed. "I'd rather spend time with Kakarot then her." And it was true. At least Goku provided a chance to spar. All Mrs. Briefs did was hit on him and dry him insane until he wanted to blast her. Not only that but she was always happy. How could someone be that happy all the damn time? Vegeta couldn't figure it out.
The blue haired woman simply rolled her eyes again at his dramatic statement and continued patching him up. She was almost done when he said, quietly with a hint of something she couldn't pinpoint,
"Why did you run out onto the battlefield?"
Bulma glanced up at him with wide eyes, surprised by his abrupt statement but knowing they'd talk about it sooner or later. Vegeta wasn't one to forget things. The look on his face made her cheeks burn. His eyes were narrowed, one side of his mouth lifted in a cynical smirk, one dark eyebrow raised. His expression wasn't one of disdain. It was just...savage curiosity. Like he had to know the reason less he explode.
She stood dumbstruck for a moment before responding with, "I was going to try and stop you two."
Her answer obviously wasn't what he wanted to hear because he growled, "Idiot. You have a scientific brain that can compete with almost any one yet you continue to do the most foolish, bizarre actions."
His statement made her narrow her eyebrows. "Excuse me? I'm not the one going around fighting on lawns, trying to show off how much testosterone I have and shooting off energy beams at innocent people, now am I!?"
"What the hell does that have to do with you-?"
"EVERYTHING!" She put hands on hips. "Have you ever stopped to think about anyone other then YOURSELF? You could have KILLED somebody!"
Vegeta clenched his teeth and strained out, "And what makes you think I give a damn about the health of others?"
Bulma paused and said, almost coyly. "Well...you care about my health. Otherwise, you would have left me for dead."
Her bold statement made the scowl on his face freeze. He stared at her, at her raised eyebrows and smug expression and couldn't think of one thing to utter back at her.
Finally, he said in a low voice, "It wouldn't have been strong enough to kill you."
"So you just didn't want me hurt?" The question came out more as a realization as she pondered it, her eyes growing wide. She just couldn't understand this guy at all. One minute, he'd threaten her and then the next, he'd save her.
Before either of them could fill the silence, there was a sharp rap at the door. They both turned to see Yamcha; a wry smile on his face, leaning on the door frame, a bandage over his eyebrow. "Am I interrupting something?" The sarcasm in his words was painfully obvious and she felt guilty. He turned to give his girlfriend a firm stare. "Can I talk to you?"
"Uh...After I finish-"
"Now."
Bulma stared at him in disbelief. His tone had been hard, commanding and a bit threatening which was completely unlike him. She frowned and then marched out of the room, letting Yamcha close the door shut on an amused looking Vegeta.
As soon as they were alone in the hallway, she swung to give him her fiercest glare. "What was that about?"
But Yamcha was calm. He folded his arms across his chest and regarded her coldly before asking coolly, "What was what?" She narrowed her eyes even more and he feigned surprise. "OH! That?" He motioned towards the closed door. "Yeah, that was me getting my girlfriend away from a cold blooded killer to speak with her." More sarcasm.
She breathed in deeply. "Are you really going to start this again? I told you before not to be jealous of-"
"Vegeta?" He sneered. "Your love? Your one and only?"
Bulma scrunched up her face in confusion. She had never seen the ex-bandit so nasty before. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"You don't know?" He snorted.
"What is the matter with you?" She asked flatly, growing tired of his sour attitude.
"Of course you don't know what's the matter with me. OF COURSE." He scoffed and shrugged. "I mean you're so busy worrying about Vegeta to know what's wrong with me. Isn't that right?"
All she could get out of his words was that he was angered, maybe still jealous of her and Vegeta. "You're acting freakishly immature, Yamcha."
"Well, excuse me, should I act more like Vegeta?" He asked snottily. She sighed and set her jaw in a frown. "Should I try and abuse you and belittle you and call you derogatory names, hm? Is that what tickles your fancy? Wait! I got it. Maybe I should try and murder some one. Then will you fall into my arms?"
She had had enough. Balling up her hands and biting down on her lip, Bulma tried to keep her anger in check as she forced out in the most even voice she could, "I think you should leave."
"Oh okay." He did a mock bow that made her anger rise. "I forgot you have to get back to Vegeta."
"I'm sorry you're so insecure, Yamcha." She said to his back, perfecting a mock of her own. "But I mean, I guess I would be too if I tried to compete with some one who was much better then me."
The look on his face when he spun around made her wish she hadn't said it. It was an expression mixed with intense anger yet sorrow. Her words had stung him, no doubt. Damn it, she thought in frustration, it was his fault! He started it!
Yamcha clapped arrogantly and smiled sadly. "Well, I've just got my answer."
"Answer to what?" She was still deftly mad but couldn't help to look confused and cock her head to the side. Look angry, look angry, look angry.
"I came to give you an ultimatum actually."
His words sent her anger into full blown fury. An Ultimatum!? The nerve! She put her hands behind her back to keep from clawing at his face.
"I wanted you to choose: Me or Vegeta. And if you chose me, you'd have to kick him out." He looked at her, completely devoid of his initial anger and Bulma dropped her facade to give him a pained look.
"I'm not kicking him out." She told him in a whisper.
He laughed indignantly. "I know. I knew that from the moment you went and helped him instead of helping me."
"What do you mean!? You weren't-" Then she stopped and gasped, his words finally seeping in. She had thrown Yamcha aside. She hadn't even thought about him until now. She looked him over now and noticed now; the bandage on his forehead, the bruise on his forearm, the way he was slightly limping. She closed her eyes and breathed out a curse. How could she have abandoned her boyfriend?
"Goodbye Bulma."
That said, Yamcha who she assumed was now her ex, walked away and all she could do was watch; unable to stop him and tell him that she was sorry.
Because, truth be told, as scary and disorientating as the thought was, if she had to, she didn't think she would have done things any differently.
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Although he knew something was wrong, more so because he had heard the entire argument than because he could read her face, Vegeta remained quiet as she jerkily finished wrapping his arm and taped it down. It wasn't as if he cared that her scum of a man disliked him or even that they had broken up. Actually, it made him feel victorious once again. The dumb Earthling had left the woman because he suspected something going on between him and Bulma? Idiot. There was nothing he liked about the wench. Nothing at all.
Especially not the scent on her skin or her soft touch. Especially not that.
She stepped back, admired her work and gave him a surprisingly happy smile. "There. All done. Feel better?"
He simply snorted and she took that as a, "Why Yes, thank you Beautiful Bulma of Earth."
Vegeta hopped down off the bed, stretched out his cast and turned and walked out, leaving the woman alone. He needed to get away from her before he went crazy. She had questioned him once about his earlier actions and he didn't want to be caught in that again. He had no logical answer as to why she invoked feelings in him that wanted to protect her. At least, not one that he liked or wanted to agree with.
It was only a few seconds later when he realized he had no where to go so he backtracked to the room, planning on giving her a hard time until her father fixed the GR. He also needed new attire because his current ones were soaked with blood. Maybe if he kept talking she'd forget about their previous conversation.
But, when he arrived back, he abruptly stopped in the doorway, witnessing something peculiar and unexpected.
Bulma was crying. Soft, small, weak cries.
She was sitting on the bed, the same spot where he had just been, with her hands were covering her face. He could see some tears fall from her chin onto her shirt.
Unfamiliar with such actions, he just stood there motionless. He knew he should have left but something was keeping him from doing so.
Then she looked up and stared right at him as if she had sensed his presence. Her eyes were swollen, her face was red and she was wiping snot off her lip.
Very awkwardly, Vegeta asked quietly, "Why do you cry over such a weakling?"
The statement shocked her. How had he known who she was crying over? Why had he come back? What was that infliction in his voice? Confusion? Resentment? Concern?
She wiped her face, sniffed, glided off the bed and shot him a shaky smile. "I'm not..."She paused and found herself saying instead, "Me and Yamcha were together for a long time. It....It hurts to know that we won't be any longer."
He raised an eyebrow. "He'll be back. Scurrying after you like a dog on a leash." The last line was said in disgust.
"He might be." She avoided his gaze. "But I'm not so sure I'll take him back."
Vegeta gave her a curious look. "Oh really? What has caused your sudden change in heart?"
She frowned at his sarcasm. "We just aren't meant for each other."
"So what's the point of crying over it?"
Bulma gave him a disapproving look and sniffed again. "You...you just wouldn't understand. It's about emotions and I'm quite sure you have none." She hadn't meant to sound so rude and aggressive but the short male's haughty and amused tone was aggravating her. She wouldn't be all too surprised if he had laughed outright at her misery.
Yet this was the man she was losing everything over. This was the man Yamcha was jealous of. This was the man who had caused her break up....kind of. This was the man who she was.....drawn to for lack of admitting that she was attracted to him.
This was the man who cared about her health. Or so it seemed.
"You're right. I have no time for silly emotions." He retorted back with another scoff.
Bulma smiled lightly. "Actually, now I think about it, you do. I can't believe I almost forgot." He gave her a questioning look and she burst into a grin. "Because, after all, you saved me. Twice now. What would that emotion be called?"
Damn, he thought in anger, scowling, she brought it back up again. "What did you have in mind?" He asked dryly, stalking over to her, daring her to say something.
His expression didn't imitate her.....that much. "Concern? Worry? Fear? Unease? Alarm?" She smirked at his narrowed eyes. "Pick you favorite."
"I choose them all."
Bulma looked down at him with wild, bewildered eyes. She hadn't really expected him to answer that and, if he did, she had thought he'd saw something arrogant or at the very least, something more Vegeta-like.
He enjoyed the look on her voice and smirked. He liked to perplex her if only to see her eyebrows shot up as they had done. There was nothing more fulfilling to put someone smug in their place which, he guessed, could be why she worked so hard to push his buttons.
Either way, he couldn't stop here. He'd have to shake her up a little more to make her believe that she had completely underestimated how far he'd go.
And that was the reason he kept telling himself for what he did next.
Bulma didn't have time to react when Vegeta grabbed her wrist, pulled her towards him so that their bodies were flush up against each other and pressed his lips to hers roughly.
When they came apart, Bulma was left standing there dumbly, mouth slightly open, blinking into space. She watched him walk away with out a single word of even a glance back and furrowed her eyebrows. She touched her lips as if she wanted to confirm what had happened.
But the remembrance of his lips on hers was proof enough. Rough, hard and wildly erotic. There had been no gentleness about it. Just pure, raw lust. Bulma wondered if he was the same way in bed.
The thought brought a blush to her cheeks and covered her face, although no one was with her and walked out with a shake of head.
Okay so maybe she was a little more then drawn to Prince Vegeta.
No no, Bulma, kissing another guy after a break up isn't slutty. Haha. ^_^
Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are appreciated. Next chapter will be up soon, hopefully.