Human Hospitality
by pureleaf
Chapter 9
The Daily Routine
Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews! I'm sorry this update has taken so long. Well, this little fic of mine is shaping up to be a bit of a "Vegeta and Bulma" story! From here on the plot will start to move faster, so thanks for hanging on this long. I hope to update again soon and always appreciate your reviews and comments!
So excited at the prospect of finally using a working gravity simulator, Vegeta quietly sat through Bulma's tutorial and found she'd programmed the machine's controls in an easy-to-identify, colourful display. While Vegeta's ego felt wounded by the idea that Bulma possibly considered him to be some kind of idiot, the thrill of being able to train like his rival suppressed any anger that may have otherwise risen to the surface minutes into the tutorial.
He was even willing to take her advice and started his training at five times Earth's gravity. After an hour of rigorous exercise, his muscles were burning from exertion, and it felt good.
Within four days, Vegeta was training at 15-25 times Earth's normal gravity on a consistent basis.
Vegeta had what he considered a proper schedule set in place by the beginning of his third full week on Earth. He discovered the early morning hours were blissfully quiet and chose to take advantage of any opportunity when he wouldn't have to talk to people.
He wrote down his daily schedule in Galactic Standard and tacked it to the wall above his barely-used desk.
0515- Wake, dress
0525- Get breakfast from refrigerator
0545- Run 45 minutes
0635- Gym: Weight training
0745- Get second breakfast
0820- Gravity Simulator: 10-15x setting, stretching and movement routine
0900- Gravity Simulator: 20-30x setting, hand weights and body weight exercises
0940- Leave Simulator, get something to eat
1000- Return to Simulator. 20-40x setting, combat exercises and kata
1130- Leave Simulator, go to house (Note to self do NOT use shower in simulator it is inefficient and not warm enough Note to self Tell Bulma or her father to fix the damn water heater in simulator)
1135- Shower
1200- Midday meal
1300- Movement and stretching routine- normal gravity setting if in simulator
1400- Sleep
1600- Wake, eat something.
1615- Return to gravity simulator: 10-20x setting, flight and levitation training
1730- Leave simulator. Bathe.
1800- Evening meal
1900- Free hour.
2000- Watch TV or go for walk
2130- Eat something. Go to room.
2230- Sleep
The gravity simulator had been intentionally placed as far away from the Namekians as possible so to prevent conflict. Vegeta liked it that way and he was more than certain the Namekians didn't object either. Occasionally he passed by some of them as they toured the gardens with Mrs. Briefs or in small groups on their own, and it always created a moment of deep tension. While Vegeta's chip couldn't decipher what the Namekians said about him in their native tongue, he knew it just had to along the lines of "sick bastard", "murderer", and "should be in Hell".
"Keep away from him, young one," an elder Namekian said to one of the youngest as they passed Vegeta as he jogged around the compound one evening, deliberately speaking in the common tongue to make sure Vegeta understood the warning too, "there is nothing good to be found in him."
It stung him more than it should have, and if it weren't for Mrs. Briefs being no more than eight meters away, he may have attacked.
By the end of the month, the Saiyan's food intake increased to the point that Mrs. Briefs hired two chefs (who worked alternate days) to keep up. Vegeta regularly terrified the chefs by coming into the kitchen just as they were putting the finishing touches on a dish and taking a seat at (or sometimes on) the table. He rarely, if ever, thanked the cooks, figuring they were paid labour and therefore their salaries counted as a sufficient "thank you". The grocery bill skyrocketed, not that Vegeta particularly cared. He'd grown especially fond of salmon teriyaki served with sticky rice, hummus with pita, Pad Thai with shrimp and chicken, tortilla chips with salsa, fruit salad, pomegranate arils, roast chicken with gravy and vegetables, steak and pommes frites, Caesar salad, oranges, and Mrs. Briefs' club sandwiches, which he requested she prepare for him at least twice weekly.
While Vegeta had learned how to use human utensils (they really weren't all that different from anything he'd seen before) he still tended to eat certain things using his right hand, partially because it felt natural but also because it bothered Bulma, and he found her indignant reactions made for good dinnertime entertainment, especially when he was in one of his off moods.
He still wasn't fond of scrambled eggs, although he found them quite good when fried in butter and served with steak sauce. The discovery that eggs were present in many foods he consumed on a regular basis made Vegeta less suspicious of them and more willing to try different things. All things considered, Vegeta thought the food on Earth was excellent, but he only told the Briefs that the food was "satisfactory" most of the time. The only foods Vegeta found truly loathsome were marshmallows, zucchini, tomato ketchup, and oatmeal, which somewhat reminded him of the gruel served to PTO soldiers stationed in the most inhospitable areas of the empire.
One morning, the Saiyan discovered that only Bulma was at the house that day, and the cook had a day off, so he'd need her to cook for him. He wandered from the gym into the kitchen and found her at the breakfast table, focused on her tablet as usual.
"Hey," she looked up from her tablet as he entered the kitchen, "have you put on some weight?"
"Maybe," Vegeta discovered the percolator had switched to its keep warm setting and poured himself a cup of coffee, "it's possible."
"You look great, Vegeta."
He felt his face getting hot again. Something was baking in the oven, and he motioned towards it with his large eyes and tilted his chin up, silently asking his hostess what she was making. Vegeta was frustrated that many of his non-verbal cues or tongue clicks were ignored or only received a confused response from the humans, forcing him to speak all the time.
"Fritatta. You'll like it. Care to get me a cup of coffee too, handsome?"
He got a mug from the cupboard and poured her a cup of coffee. Vegeta also knew she took cream and a small amount of sugar and took the liberty of adding it in for her before he set both mugs on the table and took his usual spot across from her.
"Wow, I didn't actually think you'd actually do that! Thanks, Vegeta."
"Yeah, yeah," he focused on his coffee and took a long sip, "enough."
She laughed and went back to reading her tablet until the oven timer beeped and she removed the frittata from the oven, sprinkled grated cheese on top, and returned it to the oven to continue cooking for another few minutes.
"Damn it all, I'm hungry! How long is that fritta-thing going to take, Bulma?"
"Another three minutes... besides, didn't you eat just two hours ago? I'm starting to think you can pack away even more than Goku!"
Vegeta smirked at Bulma's comparison and leaned back in his chair, studying her expressive face and briefly wondering if he should start committing her features to his memory before he scolded himself for daring to be so soft, if even for a few seconds.
The oven beeped and he did not move. He would be served, after all.
After sniffing the dish presented to him and an initial taste test, the Saiyan finished his slice of frittata in three huge, greedy bites, pushed his plate away, rose from his chair and brought the entire pan over (once he realized he needed to wrap the hot handle with a tea towel in order to hold it) and quickly ate the remainder. "Tell the cooks I want this for my second breakfast every day. Whatever you put in this, it is quite good. I must train. Goodbye."
"So the prince of all Saiyans wants leftover dinner, cheese and eggs... at least he'll eat close to anything," said Bulma to an empty kitchen.
After ten weeks on Earth, with seven of them spent training in the gravity simulator for several hours on a near-daily basis, Vegeta actually felt remarkably comfortable in his environment. He slept well and ate constantly, enjoyed his privacy, took long showers and groomed himself regularly.
Late one evening, Bulma came to his room to deliver laundry. The Saiyan was cross-legged on the floor, back against the side of his bed, cleaning his toenails with a wooden cuticle pusher.
"I swear, if you aren't training or stuffing your face, you're devoted to your hygiene. Are you trying to impress a lady friend I don't know about or something?" Bulma laughed and set his clean clothing on top of his dresser, knowing her guest preferred to sort his own laundry.
"I like to look good."
Bulma chuckled. "I can see that, Vegeta. Anyway, that's all. I'll see you in the mor-"
"You can stay. A little company wouldn't be so awful right now," he didn't look up from his feet, but his tone was sincere.
She smiled at his offer. "Sure. I was going to make some nighttime tea, so do you want a cup too? It'll only take me a few minutes. Think of it as time to finish up with your feet, because I'm not going to try and have a conversation with a guy giving himself a pedicure!"
He let out a low, soft laugh and agreed to her conditions.
When she came back with two steaming mugs of tea, placed them on his night table, and took a seat on top of his bed, Vegeta sat right beside her. Bulma hadn't been expecting that at all but managed to keep her composure.
Close-up, Bulma realized that Vegeta really was quite attractive, and his unusual features added a deep element of mystery to an already enigmatic individual. He really did devote time to keeping himself clean and it showed in his complexion. On top of that, he also smelled nice; a combination of soap and lotion, clean clothing, and very faintly of the rubbing alcohol swabs he used to wipe his nails after picking away any dirt that had found its way underneath.
The Saiyan didn't talk much about himself or his past, and when he did, it came in anecdotes or fragments of a larger story he would always refuse to tell. That evening, he was a little more open with Bulma and told her that he'd worked with Raditz for close to twenty five years before he'd been killed in combat on Earth.
"He was a real creep," Bulma shivered, "you have to be really sick to kidnap and hurt a little kid!"
Vegeta shrugged. "Comes with the line of work we were both in. Raditz was a cunning bastard, I'll give him that much, but his death was no true loss for me."
Bulma's brows rose in surprise at Vegeta's coldness. "Even after more than two decades with him? Weren't you friends or at least on good terms?"
"Hmmph. It was work. I suppose you could say we were friendly at times, but that was only for brief periods. We were never friends. I didn't make friends. Too risky."
"Oh... what about the big guy you came with?"
"Nappa was my body guard. He was appointed by my father when I was four and remained my guard out of misplaced loyalty to my father, I am sure. Ah, but it was good to have two men to test my food and drink for drugs or poison."
"You seriously faced attempts on your life?"
"A few times. Been drugged a few times, stabbed three times, shot twice, and nearly scalded once."
Bulma looked away, eyes wide with horror, and took a long sip of tea. Vegeta understood it was a silent cue to change the subject.
Between sips of tea, Vegeta asked Bulma about her education and her age and was surprised (and pleased) to learn they'd both been born within five years of each other. She held several degrees and was planning to continue her studies, which rather impressed Vegeta. Clearly, the woman was much more intelligent than her loud personality let on.
Bulma opened her tablet and flipped to a blueprint and skeletal manual for one of her latest projects. "Check this out, Vegeta," she zoomed in on a computer-generated rendering of the completed device, "this is a defence drone I'm working on right now. It can be used as a sort of robot sparring partner or even as a simulated enemy during combat training. I originally got the idea during my college years when I spent a semester in a dorm infested with big, hairy flies, eeeeuuughh... long story short, the idea back then was to have the drone identify the flies as they approached and suck them into a container once they were within range. It hovered around the dorm for a few hours a day and it worked pretty well all things considered, although sometimes it sucked up somebody's hair or something..."
"Short story long..." Vegeta waved his hand from side to side and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"I'm getting to it! Anyway, a few weeks ago I revisited the old blueprints and found some notes about turning them into defensive drones for Goku to train with!"
"That's it! No wonder Kakkarot became such a brilliant fighter! You humans have been presenting him with a simulated enemy to constantly battle..."
"Hold up, Vegeta! I had completely forgotten about those notes and never made the drones for Goku to train with! The reason I'm telling you this is because I've made the first generation of defence drones for you to use in the gravity simulator. There'll be some minor adjustments to make in the morning, and I'll need you to spend some time with me customizing the programs I've created, but they'll be ready for use by tomorrow evening."
The Saiyan's face brightened and a smile appeared, less crooked than the usual smirk he flashed on a regular basis, truly delighted by this news. He now had a true advantage over Kakkarot and would train harder than ever before.
"This is very good news. I thank you for telling me, Bulma, and I am willing to meet with you tomorrow after my midday meal."
"Then it's agreed, Vegeta. I know you don't like being thrown off schedule, so I appreciate you doing this on short notice."
"I am looking forward to having such an advantage over Kakkarot now. It is you who is doing me the greater favour here."
"It won't be much longer until we can use the Namekian Dragonballs. I wonder what Yamcha will be like when he returns..." Bulma dissolved into a sigh.
"You are very attractive." Vegeta wanted to slap himself the moment he blurted it out. Why did I say that?! He chastised himself and the worry that she wouldn't want to deal with him the next day started to creep into every racing thought he had.
"Oh... um, thanks, Vegeta. But Yamcha's my boyfriend, and I'm gonna wait for him to get back, you know? He was my first boyfriend and we've been together a long time..."
"Of course I know that! I've had enough company for the night, if you should like to leave now. Good night."
He rose from the bed much faster than she did and showed her out of his bedroom before shutting the door firmly and turning the lock. She was in such a rush to leave and she forgot her mug of tea on his night table.
Very quickly Vegeta undressed, turned off all the lights, and curled up underneath the covers. He could smell her on the duvet where she'd sat and pushed it onto the floor so he wouldn't have to think about her as he fell asleep.
Bulma went to her room, stunned by what had just happened, and sat at her desk to write in her journal.
10:15 PM
Vegeta just admitted he's attracted to me. I really have no idea how to approach this, especially with Yamcha bound to return to Earth in a few weeks. Hopefully he'll be in a decent mood tomorrow.
To Be Continued