Human Hospitality
by scoutergreen
Chapter 33
The Social Dynamic
On the fifth morning of Vegeta's second long-term stay on Earth, he awoke at five thirty feeling very alert and wasted no time in dressing and heading downstairs. He hadn't expected to find Mrs. Briefs already awake, clad in a bright pink racer-back top and black shorts and shifting into warrior pose. Vegeta noticed the petite, perky voiced woman on the television screen doing the same thing and struggled not to cringe.
Oh, no. Count me out.
He took a seat at the kitchen table, folded his arms over his chest, and shut his eyes. He'd wait until Mrs. Briefs was finished with her routine before demanding she prepare the coffee he liked so much.
Twenty five minutes later, Mrs. Briefs entered the kitchen and startled Vegeta out of his day dream with a cheerful: "good morning, sweetheart! Would you like some coffee?"
"Right away."
"You've got it," Mrs. Briefs pulled a bag of whole coffee beans from the refrigerator, "this is a very simple beverage to make, Vegeta. I could teach you how to make it so you can have a fresh cup whenever you like!"
Vegeta responded with a grunt and rose from his chair to observe Mrs. Briefs, keeping a metre away and his arms kept crossed the entire time. It was a simple task, Vegeta realized, there's no reason I should wait around when I could easily do it myself. I could have had a cup of coffee and moved on to swimming a few laps before breakfast!
"My secret to good cup of coffee is a dash of salt," the Briefs matriarch sprinkled a few crystals onto the percolator's full basket, "but I'm sure you won't tell anybody else about it," she winked and set the top on the percolator, "and now all we do is wait!"
Once again, the Saiyan responded with a grunt and returned to his seat at the table. Mrs. Briefs sighed and decided to take an indirect approach with her guest; she took to looking through the refrigerator for eggs and hamsteak before attempting to continue a conversation.
"How are the new clothes working out?"
"They're fine," Vegeta responded automatically, voice a disinterested monotone. He picked up a flier for a large grocery chain and started to flick through the colourful pages, bewildered by the sheer variety and volume of food they were advertising. He'd never seen anything like it before- sure, there were food markets all throughout the PTO's realm, but the Saiyan had never heard of huge indoor, climate controlled markets that weren't heavily guarded and closed to the public.
"That's good to hear. You know, Vegeta, since you're an early bird like me, I figured we could spend some time together going over some simple recipes, in case you get hungry when nobody's around."
"Absolutely not. What mind have you to suggest I should be forced to fend for myself while staying here? Do you not understand my presence here at least affords you some form of protection in the years ahead? That my hours will be occupied with training? That alone should require somebody cook for me whenever I so desire."
"Nobody's asking you to "fend for yourself", sweetheart. I'm just offering to teach you some simple recipes in case you get hungry and want to eat! The kitchen's open and free to everybody here, and you can always take as much as you like, whenever you like," the woman's voice remained perfectly calm and friendly, which left the Saiyan feeling increasingly unnerved, "just imagine if decided to train late into the night and wanted to eat, but found nobody here?"
With that final question, Mrs. Briefs had effectively shot down Vegeta's argument against learning to cook, and the Saiyan drained his cup before evasively admitting defeat: "you make a fair point. But this will not be a regular thing and I fully expect my main meals to be prepared for me as usual."
"Of course not! Now, do you want to start this morning, or another day?"
"Hngh," Vegeta looked at his empty mug, "I'm getting up anyway. What are you making?"
"How about a hamsteak, fried eggs, hash browns, and some toast? With all the coffee and orange juice you could wish for."
"It'll do. Just cook, and I'll observe."
He's agreed to this much. Work with his limits.
Mrs. Briefs smiled, face bright and welcoming, and cheerfully clapped her hands together, "that sounds like a fine idea, Vegeta! Once you get your second cup of coffee you can just hang back a few feet and watch me cook. Now, the first thing you'll want to do is preheat the oven to 450 degrees- you'll have the right temperature when the red arrow on the knob is almost to the top..."
With nobody else to disturb him, Vegeta quietly watched the woman cook, absorbing her instructions, and stored this new information in his memory. Within twenty five minutes, she'd prepared a filling hot breakfast that would keep his stomach full for at least an hour.
"This is good," the Saiyan commented through a mouthful of hash browns, "better than I expected."
"Good!" Mrs. Briefs beamed at her guest, "and you're so observant! I bet you learn quickly."
Vegeta swallowed his mouthful of food, struggling to suppress a shiver. What was it about this woman and her ability to just be so happy and bright? Aside from Bulma, she was the only person at the compound who didn't seem to be in the least bit intimidated by his presence.
"I suppose so," he coolly replied, "and what exactly is it you do? The old man, your husband, is a scientist and engineer, while your daughter appears to have followed in a similar line of work."
Mrs. Briefs finished her mouthful of food before speaking. Mr. Vegeta may be bright but he can be awfully brusque, she thought, he's not very good at socializing...
"Well, these days I do a lot of volunteer work, and we donate money to good causes... in a few hours I'm volunteering at a food bank."
"Volunteering."
"Yes! I certainly have the time now that my daughter's all grown up!"
Vegeta set his fork down and narrowed his eyes at Mrs. Briefs, growing suspicious of what she was telling him, "you're telling me that you go and work, for no pay, on a purely voluntary basis? To serve what cause, exactly?"
"To help others! There's an awful lot of people out there who can't afford enough food, even though they have jobs, and so we try to help them get through the days where they may not otherwise be able to afford to feed their families."
Slowly chewing a chunk of hamsteak while staring at the woman, completely baffled by her explanation, Vegeta shook his head. "Stupid, if you ask me. Unless you're getting something in return, why offer any kind of assistance? Fight and force yourself to get ahead or perish; that is the way things work everywhere else."
"Oh, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs sighed, "if nobody's ever helped you without expecting anything in return, I am so sorry for you. What a hard life... well, I have to go and get ready. Don't worry about the dishes, I'll take care of them later! It's supposed to be a nice day, you should get out and enjoy it! Bulma and Yamcha were planning having a barbeque, so lunch will be covered, okay?"
The woman pushed her plate away and left the kitchen very quickly. Vegeta shrugged and continued eating.
By two in the afternoon, Vegeta had spent two hours in the pool and another three in the gym, alternating between free weights and the elliptical. The Briefs had installed a television in the gym, which the Saiyan decidedly kept off. He'd almost always trained in complete silence, more often than not completely absorbed in his own thoughts as he pushed his body.
He showered, changed into clean clothing, and went downstairs and outside to the patio to find Bulma, Yamcha and his talking cat called Puar, the pig called Oolong, and the bald one called Krillin setting the table for a rather impressive-looking barbeque lunch. There was a spread of grilled meats and vegetables, salads, bread, and a cooler full of drinks. Vegeta's stomach rumbled.
"Hey, Vegeta! We figured since our last barbeque was spoiled by some unwanted visitors from space, we'd have a bit of a re-do today!" Bulma waved him over to the seat across from hers, "you want something to drink? I'm getting a beer..."
"No alcohol. Give me water. Alcohol only on designated evenings now. I've already commenced my training regardless of the status of that simulator."
"Oh, okay... but, Vegeta, this is kind of a social occasion... a special occasion, you know? We're all going to enjoy the day and hang out, and so we wanted to invite you too. Come on, it'll be good for you! And this evening, I can take you through the new simulator and show you what's been done so far."
Vegeta narrowed his eyes at Bulma and drummed his fingers on the table, face cold. "Are you blackmailing me?"
"Absolutely not," she searched through the cooler and pulled out a bottle of beer and a bottle of water, "if you just want to grab something to eat and go elsewhere, feel free. Nobody's going to force you to do anything here."
With that, the Saiyan seemed to relax slightly and smirked at Bulma, "maybe a beer wouldn't be a bad idea."
"Alright, you're gonna hang out! Here," she fetched a bottle buried in ice, twisted the cap off, and handed it to the Saiyan.
"Uhhh... Vegeta! You drink?" Yamcha's voice was wary, and he briefly glanced at Bulma with disapproval flaring in his eyes.
"Uh-huh," Vegeta took a long sip and glared at the warrior, "what's it to you?"
Flustered, Yamcha's face started to redden and he tried to avoid the Saiyan's eyes, "well, uh, I just didn't know if, um, you know... whether or not you could process alcohol..."
"I have a liver, and right now I also have a growling stomach and temper about to boil over, so you'd best get my food together now and mind how you speak to royalty from now on," spat Vegeta, baring his teeth as he spoke to indicate just how irritated he was becoming.
When Bulma didn't really intervene or even warn Vegeta to cool down, the tension in the air grew just a little more thick. Oolong decided he'd avoid asking the Saiyan too many questions until he was very settled in and everybody was a bit more used to his presence.
After a large amount of grilled meat and close to two hours in the sunshine, Vegeta went to his room for a nap and slept for close to four hours. Eyes dry and groggy, the Saiyan stumbled out of the bed, stood before the bathroom mirror and blearily inspected himself, noting his skin seemed just slightly pink from all the sun exposure. He rinsed his mouth and splashed his face with cold water, willing himself to wake up fully and get on with the rest of the day.
What time is it, anyway?
He went downstairs and found the kitchen relatively quiet, aside from the hum of the microwave oven. He decided it was time to visit Bulma's lab, and when Vegeta overheard two voices, one male and one female, screaming and arguing very loudly, the Saiyan froze in place and stood there in the hallway, wide eyed and reluctant to come any closer before he could determine whether or not it was the kind of conflict he thrived on.
"And it's not like you even stood up for me today either! You just gonna let that asshole walk all over people, huh Bulma? All you ever talk about is... oooh, the simulator, or ooooh, the new drug synthesizer or whatever..."
Oh, it's just her boyfriend. I can approach.
"Synthesis, you dolt! Drug synthesis! And all you ever go on about it baseball and how you're gonna train soooo hard for the next tournament! Ugh, Yamcha, get out of my lab! I'm trying to work, damn it! Go eat your stupid lasagna or whatever!"
"Fine!" The lab door whooshed open and Yamcha came face-to-face with Vegeta, imitated the Saiyan's scowl, and furiously stormed down the hallway.
Vegeta waited another minute before entering the lab, "I can see that I arrived at a very awkward time. You know why I'm here."
Bulma chuckled and pushed her chair away from her desk, a weary sigh escaping as she straightened her posture. "It's all good, Vegeta. It's just... ugh, Yamcha and I haven't been getting along for a while now... and we've been together so long that I want to see if our relationship can't be salvaged!"
Pulling over a nearby chair and setting it about a metre away from Bulma, the Saiyan took a seat, arms folded across his chest as usual. He cleared his throat and almost appeared thoughtful before finally saying, "...but I repeat myself."
"How do people even maintain these long-term relationships any more? Do some people just have enough in common to stay together for decades?"
The Saiyan's eyes nearly rolled up into the back of his head and he resisted the urge to tell the engineer to quit being so ridiculous. Instead, he forced himself to do the unthinkable and state his business for a second time- he would give the woman a pass just this once, on the grounds that dealing with such idiocy could make anybody scatterbrained.
"So I'm here to see the progress on the simulator."
"Oh," Bulma sniffed and wiped her eyes, "of course... come on," she rose from her chair and motioned to a metal staircase that would bring them down to the lab's expansive ground-level workshop, "there's not much in the interior that you aren't already familiar with, but I'll show you the hull and some plans for the electrical systems we're planning to install."
"Hnn," Vegeta followed and observed quietly as she began describing the new hull and its advantages with much enthusiasm and detail. She's putting a great deal of work into the new simulator, he thought, I may as well tell the old man about the need to produce an even more extreme environment and greater gravitational pull when he's back at the compound. I just hope the woman and her spats with that idiot don't cause her to fall behind schedule...
To Be Continued