Chapter Eleven: The Motorcycle
Goku and Vegeta sat on the couch in the living room while Bulma listened to the television's volume overpowering Vegeta's whining about how his head hurt something fierce. She was in the kitchen with Chichi, helping to clean up the mess from the party earlier in the night. It was almost two in the morning, and Chichi had offered for her to sleep over. Bulma had gladly accepted. Driving in the dark wasn't one of her favorite things to do. Especially when she was alone. She had watched way too many scary movies as a child for her own good. It had bended her mind into thinking that the darkness always held something mysterious, and sometimes the mysterious was quite deadly. As she had grown older, she knew that the only thing in the dark was the same thing that was in the light. You just couldn't see it as clearly. It didn't make a closet or a shadow any more mysterious or fatal than it was when the lights were turned on.
She could feel her body fighting off the drowsiness. She wasn't used to staying up so late. Although Chichi had insisted that it was good for a teenager to stay up late on a Friday night. Bulma thought of it more as Saturday morning, but Chichi said that Friday nights were special and lasted longer than the other days of the weeks' nights. Bulma didn't get it, but decided to fight off her sleepiness nonetheless. She wouldn't leave Chichi all alone with all this work by herself. It wasn't in her nature. She would stay awake until Chichi went to bed, or until the entire house was cleaned.
"So," Chichi said, startling Bulma. They hadn't spoken in a while, other than Chichi instructing Bulma on where certain things went. "Wasn't that fun?"
"Wasn't what fun?" Bulma asked, funneling the chips back into the packaging bag and moving towards the sink to wash the bowl.
"The party. I bet you've never been to a party like mine before, have you?"
Bulma looked over at her friend as she turned the water on warm. She was beginning to get a few bruises on her arms and one small one on her face. "If you call getting into a fight to protect some drunken idiot 'fun,' then I guess."
"I heard that!" Vegeta called and Bulma heard Goku laugh over the television's high volume.
"But other than that," Chichi insisted, "Wasn't it fun?"
"Sure. After I got dressed up, all that really happened was I thought Vegeta had a mental breakdown, walking in here with Maron. Then Goku brought him upstairs where I felt like an idiot because he was blabbering about nothing. Then I got into a fight and had tons of my hair ripped out. I learned that two of the students in Orange Star High are actually androids, and then I watched Vegeta throw up, which made me almost puke as well. I wouldn't normally call that 'fun,' but I guess I could make an exception just this once."
Chichi couldn't tell if Bulma was being sarcastic or not, but frankly, Bulma didn't know either, so it didn't seem to matter as much.
"You looked great," Chichi said after another long period of silence. Bulma placed the cleaned bowl upside down on a towel and placed a serving spoon under it so air would go under and it would dry.
"Thanks to you," Bulma said, yawning. She moved back to the bag of chips and closed it with a clip. She placed it in the corner of the counter with the rest of the non-refrigerated bags of food.
"I don't know about you, but now I'm starting to get tired." Bulma looked over to see that her yawn had been contagious.
"What do you mean, you don't know about me? I told you I was tired hours ago."
"You never know. You could have forgotten all about it and then your brain just told you that you weren't tired anymore."
"I don't think it works like that, Chichi," Bulma laughed, hiding another yawn behind the back of her hand.
"Yeah, time for bed," she said, stretching her arms above her head and then picking up the last bowl of food, wrapping it and placing it in the crowded refrigerator. There was absolutely no more room in there for anything else, Bulma concluded. After taking fifteen minutes of her time to take everything out and put it back in like a jigsaw puzzle, she knew that nothing else would be able to fit unless Chichi had a shrink ray hidden in that vanity of hers.
Bulma nodded and followed Chichi into the living room.
"Alright, boys," Chichi said, continuing to stretch out her arms over her head. "Time for bed." Bulma was surprised at her motherly instincts and how Goku and Vegeta seemed to know that they were being treated as the children in the house. Chichi had complete control. That much was obvious to Bulma.
"Wait," Bulma said, a thought striking her like lightning. "Isn't Vegeta going home?"
"Home?" Goku asked, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. "Bulma, he lives here with us. We came from a different planet on a mission to destroy all life. We weren't planning on affording a house while we were here. We didn't bring any money in thoughts of renting one, either."
"And lucky I had one to share. My dad's gone away most of the time for work, and he has another house up in the mountains, far away from here. Sure, I miss him a lot, but I know that if he was here, he'd never let Goku stay with me, much less have parties all the time. And much, much less, have Vegeta live here, too."
"Thanks," he grumbled, gulping down another can of ginger ale.
"Are they helping at all?" Chichi asked, pointing to the pile of empty cans on the ground below the couch.
"I don't know, but if they are, I wouldn't want to stop drinking them just to find out." He picked up another can and gulped it down in one loud slurp. Bulma never even knew it was possible to drink an entire can of soda without pausing to breathe, but Vegeta often held surprises for her. For instance, she never knew that it was possible to throw up so much that the toilet almost overflowed with puke. Luckily, Chichi had come in at that exact moment and flushed the toilet over Vegeta's head. And even luckier, he hadn't made any sort of mess, leaving Chichi in a good mood… so far.
"Where do I get to sleep?" Bulma asked, remembering that there were only two bedrooms upstairs: Chichi's and another that looked like the master bedroom of the house.
"Well," Chichi said, "I guess Goku and I can share my dad's room tonight. Then you and Vegeta can—"
"I'll sleep downstairs," Vegeta interrupted, and Bulma looked over at him. He was still tightly gripping the can of soda in his fist and she was surprised that it hadn't snapped in half so far. She understood the meaning behind his statement, seeing as she wouldn't want to be woken up by violent puking spasms or something like that. But she couldn't help but feel a bit hurt that he didn't want to share a room with her. She knew that she was just being too self-conscious about it. She barely even knew Vegeta, when it came right down to it. Sure, she'd spent some time with him and got to know him a bit, but she didn't know anything about him, aside from being a powerful prince of an alien race that secretly wanted to kill everyone on Earth.
Bulma let out a held breath. She hoped Goku was right about him not wanting that any more. She certainly didn't want to die young, but somehow, the idea of being killed by Vegeta stirred something inside of her that made her instantly regret thinking about it at all. After that thought crossed her mind, she knew that she must have been really tired for her mind to take such a sickening, and yet somehow pleasurable turn as the one she had just experienced.
Bulma saw Chichi frown out of the corner of her eye and Bulma caught Goku shrugging at the raven-haired girl. Bulma guessed that something was up between the two of them that she wasn't allowed in on. It looked like Vegeta was ignoring them, like usual.
"Alright then," Goku said, standing up, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to come ask for it," he said to Vegeta, who grunted something about Chichi not having enough of the ginger ale in her house to help him keep his stomach down and something else about not wanting to see them together in the same bed because it would make him even more sick. He didn't use those exact words, but it was Bulma's interpretation of the noises that he made.
"Hope you feel better soon," Chichi added, waving to him nonchalantly and following Goku up the stairs. Then Bulma was left alone with the Saiyan Prince. Different emotions collided as she wondered whether or not it was best to run away immediately or take her chances and try to talk with her dream boy.
"Aren't you going, as well?" he asked in a low, husky voice, breaking the silence. Bulma fretted with a piece of her hair, seeing as Vegeta had just made her decision for her.
"Yeah," she said, turned to the stairs. "Goodnight," she added softly, beginning the climb to the bedroom. She never heard him respond, which felt like a small needle through her heart, but she ignored it to the best of her ability as she rounded the corner and entered Chichi's bedroom.
There wasn't much to it, besides the bed, the vanity, a small dresser, an even smaller desk, and a closet. The walls were one solid color, and the bed's sheets clashed with it. She pulled the covers off the bed and turned on the side lamp on the nightstand. As she climbed into bed on all fours, Chichi appeared in the doorway with a long pink robe on.
"Hey, Bulma," she whispered, already in the nighttime mood.
"Hey Chichi. What's up?"
"I just wanted to tell you that Goku and I were planning a couple special surprises for you. One of them is for tomorrow. But I came to tell you not to be mad at us, okay?"
"What? Why would I be mad?" Bulma asked, wiping her eyes. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything. Her eyelids felt as if they weighed five times what they usually did, and they were slowing shutting as the result of it.
"I don't think you will be. Just be prepared for something tomorrow, okay?"
Bulma just nodded. Chichi said goodnight somewhere in her next sentence, but Bulma was already in the pleasure of what she had come to know as sleep.
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Bulma jerked her eyes open at the sound of someone yelling. As she came-to and sat up, looking warily around the room, she recognized that the intense sound had been Vegeta. She would know his voice from a mile away. It wasn't something a person actually forgot once they heard it for the first time.
She stood up and stretched her arms. Then she heard a screech that sounded like Chichi. Bulma's first guess was that she had to clean a mess that Vegeta had made, whether it was from breakfast or his hangover. But then she heard another yell that she identified as Goku's booming voice, which was also unforgettable. She wondered if it was just a Saiyan thing.
"… why she won't get up already!" Bulma caught a bit of what they were arguing about, but paused when she heard this. It sounded like she was the cause of the yelling. But why?
"… just wake her up already!" The same voice. Both times had been Vegeta. She wondered why he was so angry about her sleeping. She glanced at the clock to find that it was only nine in the morning. It wasn't as if she had slept the day away. And what did he care how long she slept? He could do whatever he wanted.
"… don't know why you're making such a big deal!" That was Chichi.
"…don't know why I have to do this! Can't you just let her stay here for the day?!"
"We have work! We can't leave her here by herself!"
"… is all your fault, Kakarot!" Vegeta's again. "Don't you know I have places I need to be on a Saturday morning?!"
"Vegeta, just calm down!" That was Goku's.
"… going to kill her… don't know why she can't just wake up already!" Bulma growled under her breath. What was he blaming her for now? And why was it always her? Couldn't he blame himself every now and again just for convenience purposes? It would make some people's lives a hell of a lot easier.
"… your fault for taking the car!"
"I didn't touch it, Vegeta!" Chichi's whine. "Goku and I flew her here last night. She didn't have her car with her!"
Bulma walked to the edge of the stairs. Now she understood why Vegeta was angry. Chichi and Goku were obviously lying to him about something. Her car was right outside. She remembered coming here in it so she could drive herself home when the party was over. But then, why were they lying? Couldn't they all just look outside and see that her car was really there?
She turned to the window of the bedroom and looked outside into the driveway, confident that her small white car would be waiting there for her… But when she looked all over, it was nowhere in sight. It had completely vanished.
The first thought that struck her mind was Chichi's comment from the night before. Was this her surprise? And how was making Vegeta want to kill her, again, a surprise? What's Chichi up to this time? she wondered.
"I have to leave, now!" Vegeta bellowed, and then she heard him stomping around the house, Goku and Chichi calling after him. Bulma jumped and panicked when she heard his loud footsteps approach the bottom of the stairs. She raced to the bed and pretended to be asleep again. It seemed like forever until Vegeta reached the top of the stairs and she heard him approach the side of the bed. Luckily, her back was turned towards the door, so he couldn't see the stunned expression on her face.
"Wake up, woman!" he yelled, lifting the mattress a bit for effect. Bulma, startled, remained in her pretending sleep. She didn't know what he wanted, but she knew that he was angry. She wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest way if she flipped over to find smoke coming out of his ears. "Wake up!" he repeated, letting go of the mattress and shaking her shoulder. She was surprised when he barely used any force that Bulma almost considered it gentle, despite his rough tone. "Get up already!"
"Vegeta!" Chichi called, reaching the top of the stairs, Goku right behind her, "She went to bed around three in the morning! She's barely had any time to sleep."
"Well, we're all up, aren't we?" he asked angrily, shaking her shoulder again. Bulma noted how his touch remained gentle on her. He turned back to her and let go of her shoulder. "I know you're up, woman," he said, "You may feel like pretending that you are asleep just to piss me off, but energy signals don't lie!"
Bulma, feeling defeated, slowly flipped over. The first thing she did was look at Chichi. "Where's my car?" she asked, and a finger slice of the neck from Goku told her that she shouldn't bring it up. She hoped that they hadn't managed to trash her car. What had they been thinking? What was taking her car going to accomplish as a surprise?
"Let's go," Vegeta said heatedly, lifting Bulma off the bed and flipping her over his shoulder.
"What do you think you're doing?" Bulma asked, her head spinning as he literally flew down the stairs and came to a stunning halt beside the door. He opened it and Bulma shielded her eyes from the sunlight. He put her down and she squinted, putting an open hand against her forehead. "What's going on?" she asked him, but instead of giving her an answer, he shoved a black helmet in her face.
"Put this on," he said, and Bulma watched him swing a leg over his pitch black motorcycle. Oh, she thought emotionlessly. This was the surprise. When Chichi said that she could get them together back in the beginning of the week, she hadn't been kidding. But yet, Bulma wasn't quite sure that pissing him off was going to get him to like her more. Or like her at all, since it seemed like even that was a stretch.
"Where are we going?" she asked, sliding the helmet on over her bedhead, happy to have it covered so no one could see it out in public.
"You're going home," he said, as if talking with a naughty child, revving the engine as she hopped onto the back. "Where I'm going is none of your concern."
There was a long pause and Bulma could feel Vegeta's anger rising. She felt her heartbeat speed up dramatically, looking around for whatever the cause of his anger was. She wanted to get rid of it before her turned it on her.
"Well?!" he roared at her, and Bulma realized that she was the source of his anger. She glanced down at herself. What was wrong with her? What was making him so angry with her? "What are you doing now, woman? Taking another nap, I suppose?"
"What?" Bulma timidly dared to ask, but not before her hands were grabbed and she was pulled forward by Vegeta's firm grip. His hands touched back to the handle of the bike, and Bulma's were nervously on each side of his waist. She feared to move. She felt privileged, but more embarrassed and jumpy at touching him like that.
"Are you an idiot?" he asked, a bit calmer now, but the insult still stung like a bitch. Bulma could begin to feel her own blood boiling a bit by now.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, her anger starting to show through her mask.
"This isn't a joke, woman. I have places to be, and I can't wait for hours just so you can feel comfortable about riding with me!" he bellowed, and Bulma felt her anger quickly fade. What in the world was he talking about? He wanted her to let go of him? That was insane. She'd fall off for sure.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, noticing Chichi's worried expression from the window of the house behind her. Some surprise.
"I'm talking about the fact that you'll fall off if I start to move right now," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I won't fall off," she said defiantly, still too nervous to move her hands. But in the next second, the bike peeled forward like a razor and Bulma was almost thrown from the back of the motorcycle. "What was that for?" she asked angrily, all too aware of her grip on him being tighter than before."
"Unlike you, human," he spat the world as if it tasted vile on his tongue, "I can crash this bike into a tractor trailer and walk away without a single scratch. You, on the other hand, would probably end up as a simple skid mark on the side of the road. I don't need the helmet. That's why I gave it to you. But if you feel that your discomfort is more important than your life, then be my guest and fall of. But I'd recommend holding on to me. I do tend to drive a bit faster than the speed limit."
Bulma reluctantly moved her hands forward, sliding them across his stomach until her fingers touched and she laced them together. She felt the electricity sparking throughout her body at touching him. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time. She had never felt such a feeling before in her entire life.
She knew her heartbeat could be felt against his back, but he made no effort to show that he actually cared. Her head was on his shoulder, and the big, bulky helmet made her even more self-conscious about it. The last thing she wanted was to get in his way.
And then they were moving… fast. Bulma's eyes were closed beneath the helmet, but the speed of the wind told her that they were going way too fast for Chichi's little road. When he said he didn't obey the speed limit, he hadn't been joking.
"Could you slow down a bit?" she ventured to ask, her voice betraying her severe nervousness.
"After all the time you made me waste?" he asked angrily, "I don't think so."
Bulma squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for the best. And after less time than she expected, they pulled into her driveway. She opened her eyes and looked at herself. She was in one piece, and it seemed like a miracle. Her arms were still fastened around Vegeta and her body was leaning up against his back with force that she guessed he would have been annoyed with if he was human. But she guessed that, since he wasn't, he barely felt her on him.
One of his legs swung over the bike as he hit the kickstand and leaned it against the gravel of her driveway. Bulma was about to ask how he knew where she lived, but kept her mouth shut when she remembered the prior day's nerve-racking activities in the high school and what Vegeta had told her. It seemed odd that he wanted to kill her one day, and then he was driving her home the next, although his crazy driving made her think that he still had the same objective on his mind.
Bulma quickly removed her arms from around him when he gave her a glare, seeing as he was already off the bike and standing while she had still been leaning off to one side of the bike to grip onto him. Her face turned crimson as he walked towards the woods. She watched him as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. Then as, Bulma guessed, the phone was ringing, he pointed at her and then motioned for her to go inside her house with a motion and a flick of his wrist. She hopped off the bike and made her way to the house. In Vegeta's rushing her, she had forgotten her purse at Chichi's house—the second purse she'd lost in the past 24 hours. She lifted up a planting pot and grabbed her spare key before making her way to the back door. As soon as she opened it, Vegeta was behind her. She turned to him with a scowl on his face.
"I thought you had to be somewhere," she analyzed earnestly, yet not failing to let the anger drip from her comment.
"I just bought myself some time," he said, patting the pocket that held his phone, and then pointed inside the garage, "Can I come in?"
"That depends. Would you come in anyway, even if I said no?"
"Probably," he said, looking resolved. He then pushed past her and walking inside, opening the door to the inside of the house. Bulma groaned and followed after him.
"So, what?" she asked, watching him make himself comfortable on her couch, "You act like a jerk, get me out of bed early, act like a jerk again, almost kill me on our way here, be a jerk again, and then invade my privacy by barging into my house uninvited?"
"Aside from the jerk part, I think you nailed most of it, although I never came close to killing you…" he said, closing his eyes and resting his hands behind his head. "You know," he began again, "I've never let anyone else ride with me."
"What?" Bulma asked, knowing perfectly well what he was talking about, yet her mind involuntarily wandered to a different kind of riding when it came to Vegeta. The passionate image in her head sped up her heartbeat a bit. She hoped he hadn't noticed.
"My motorcycle," he elaborated. "I've never let anyone else ride with me. I guess that record's broken now. But still, no one else has ever driven it, and that's going to stay the same no matter what."
"Is that what you told Maron when she brought you to the party last night on your motorcycle?" Bulma asked, finding a loophole in his statement.
"Actually, no," he said, a smirk gracing his features as he recalled the memory. "I remember telling her to fuck off as I rode away from her house. She followed me because, being as drunk as I was, I had to go pretty damn slow so I wouldn't ruin my bike in any type of accidents. She could keep up with me on foot. Why do you think I was so late? She didn't ride with me, and she certainly didn't drive for me. I'd kill her before she ever laid a hand on my property."
"And you aren't your property?" Bulma asked, still trying to get something out of him. Coming to the party with Maron was insane, no matter what the reason was for it.
"I know you're jealous, woman, but I was only with her because I promised to, so she wouldn't tell you about Kakarot and I. It wasn't for you, trust me. It was so our secret wouldn't get out. I didn't want you blabbering to the rest of the world about it because it's not just my secret. It involves plenty of people that are in the school. Not just Kakarot and me."
"What did you promise to do for her?" Bulma asked, her gossip alert on full vigilance now.
"Why so interested? Hoping I'd make the same promise for you?" he asked, a devilish smirk on his face.
"If I knew what it was, I could answer that question."
"It was nothing, really. I just told her we could have some alone time Friday night. I don't know what she was thinking would happen, but she seemed to take it well. Obviously, it wasn't Maron I had to worry about. It was Kakarot who ended up telling you."
"So what did you do there?"
Vegeta rolled his eyes at her pushing the 20 questions thing. "I drank all the whiskey in her house. I figured I'd take something if I was being forced to spend time with her, and alcohol seemed like the perfect way to go. It turned out to be helpful while I was there, but then Kakarot had to stop by to tell me to come to some goddamn party to apologize to you…" He paused and turned to her with a sarcastic look on his face. "Sorry, by the way," he added. "And when I tried to leave, she followed me. I apologize if I made you feel like I betrayed you," he smirked, looking over at her again. Bulma rolled her eyes. How could he betray her? They weren't together or anything. He could do whatever he wanted… Then why had she run away crying when she saw the two of them together last night?
She guessed that Vegeta had about the same thoughts on his mind.
"Don't you have to be somewhere?" she repeated sternly.
"What are you, my mother?" he spat.
"No, I'm not, thank God. I was just wondering why you made such a big deal about leaving to Chichi and Goku and dragged me out of bed just so you could make a phone call and buy yourself some more time."
"I was angry," he said defiantly, folding his arms. "I know perfect people like you don't do that, but I guess you'll have to deal with me anyway."
"Very funny. You want to tell me why you bought yourself extra time just to relax on my couch, or is there something you want?"
"I always want something. It's in my nature."
"Are you going to tell me what it is?"
"Probably not."
"Why not?"
"I don't need a reason."
"You sure as hell do. You're in my house, and I want to know why. So you're either going to tell me or get out. It's as simple as that."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said flatly, turning his head to look at her again. He smugly noticed that every time he looked into her bright blue eyes, he felt her heart skip a beat. He had the funny feeling that there was more than one reason he was really here every time it happened.
"You wouldn't know that unless you told me," Bulma said, wondering if she was getting anywhere like this.
"Don't get your hopes up," he finally said, and Bulma knew that whatever it was, he wasn't going to tell her today. But maybe next time she asked, he would tell her. And if not, then she'd try again another time. And if he still didn't give her an answer, then she'd wait a little while longer before asking him yet again.
All she knew was that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet. She suspected the entire "a different race that attracts humans because they have weird powers" complex, but she wasn't stupid enough to actually fall for that. She knew it was more. She didn't know if it was a spark or a wildfire. But she knew that it was something that drew Vegeta to her as well. It was the reason he walked out the door and got back on his phone. It was the reason she heard him whisper to someone that he was sorry about being so late. It was the reason he really didn't call anyone before, when he had motioned for her to go into her house.
It was the reason he truly didn't have the time to come into her house, but did it anyway.