Human Hospitality
by scoutergreen
Chapter 74
Out of Options
Floating on his back in the warm saline pool water, Vegeta stared at the tiled ceiling and allowed his eyes to go out of focus. Another long day of intense training had left him completely exhausted, but his mind refused to slow down. There were but four days remaining before The Cell Games were to begin and the Saiyan was struggling with insomnia; averaging perhaps three and a half hours of sleep per twenty four hour period- enough for him to get through the day, but far from what he required to repair his body or perform to the standard he imposed on himself.
It was eight thirty in the evening, and after a huge evening meal (four pounds of grilled chicken breast, eighteen scrambled eggs, three pounds of sweet potatoes, a pound of green beans, two large containers of baby spinach with olive oil and vinegar drizzled on top, a gallon of full fat milk, an entire pot of steel cut oats with maple syrup and butter on top, a pint of cherries, and two thirds of a chocolate cake) Vegeta found himself unable to wind down.
He picked up the sound of Bulma's feet against the tile floor and moved himself up so he was lazily treading water. The Saiyan watched as she descended the steps into the shallow end of the pool, a small smile spreading his lips.
"Haven't seen much of you the last few days," he swam into the shallow end and resumed floating on his back, "have you been holed away in your laboratory, or perhaps your workshop?"
"A bit of both," Bulma gave Vegeta a weary smile, "but I know very well you've alsobeen holed up in your gravity chamber for hours and hours at a stretch! Good to see you coming to your senses and getting out of there before you started sleeping in there too!"
"I might start sleeping in there if I can't get some fucking sleep in my bedroom," Vegeta's words began as a snarl and faded into a weary sigh, "all the training of a lifetime won't mean anything if I can't keep my damn eyes open when the games begin..."
"There's not much more you can do at this point, Vegeta. You should just focus on getting some sleep over the next few days..."
"Fucking easier said than done. I lay back on my bed and it's like I'm in a room full of disembodied voices."
Bulma gave a sympathetic hum and moved into the deep end of the pool, floating on her back and releasing a sigh. "You can sleep with me tonight, if you want. Trunks has been sleeping through the night the last little while, so I'm not likely to be in and out of bed at all hours."
"Fine," Vegeta floated on his back and lazily kicked his aching feet to move through the water, "I'll take you up on that..." he shifted his weight so he was treading water and swam toward Bulma, ran a fingertip down the length of her back and teasingly pulled on the strings of her bikini top, "I'm going to bed."
When Bulma arrived in her bedroom forty minutes after Vegeta had left the pool, she found the Saiyan laying on his stomach, watching the television with his eyes half open and his mouth pressed into a line. When Bulma sat at the edge of the mattress, she could feel heat radiating off Vegeta's skin. He was wearing a pair of black shorts and a blue t-shirt and didn't appear to be sweating or uncomfortable.
"Did you take a hot shower? Like, a really hot shower? Because I can feel heatwaves coming off of you."
"Oh. I'll move over," Vegeta shifted over to give Bulma some room and kept watching the screen, "never figured a human would be so sensitive to a Saiyan's naturally high body temperature."
"Vegeta, how many times have we had skin-on-skin contact? And how many times have I complained about your body heat? That number is zero, in case you forgot!"
"That's not true. Don't you remember that time you spent the night in my bedroom and kept complaining it was too hot under the covers?"
"That's because you're the weirdo who keeps both the window open and runs an electric fan in the middle of winter and just sleeps underneath a couple extra blankets!"
"Hey, what's so weird about wanting some air circulation in the bedroom?"
Bulma cracked up laughing and removed her housecoat, tossing it into her laundry basket. "Vegeta, if I started to detail all of your weirdness, we would be up all night!"
"Very funny." Vegeta changed the channel, his eyes narrowed and he snarled when the screen switched to an interview with that hideous bearded man he had seen nearly every time he had passed a television within the last week.
"Who is this ugly bastard I keep seeing on the television?"
"That's Hercule Satan, Vegeta! He's a world-famous wrestler, you know! The guy has managed to build a huge empire."
"Fuck him," Vegeta rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, "fuck him twice. Drawing so much unneeded attention to this upcoming event."
"Vegeta! That is so vulgar! And why do you feel so warm?"
"I already told you that I don't know! Do you want me to leave or not? Just say so, and I'll get out of your damn room. I'll go sleep in the gravity chamber."
Bulma heaved a sigh and began massaging the Saiyan's neck, finding it tense and clammy. "Vegeta... no, I don't want you to leave. I just want you to tell me what you're feeling, please..."
"Ooh," Vegeta leaned into the touch, "keep doing that."
"Geez, Vegeta, you're so tense! I can feel a knots in your muscles!"
The Saiyan gave an annoyed huff and rolled his shoulders. "Don't stop what you're doing."
Bulma did stop very briefly to fetch a bottle of oil from her bedside stand and assist the Saiyan in pulling off his t-shirt, and once she had slicked Vegeta's back with lavender-scented oil she spent almost forty five minutes massaging his back, shoulders and arms. When she finally stopped, she heard tiny snores coming from the exhausted Saiyan.
With patient encouragement and gentle handling, Bulma managed to turn Vegeta around so his head rested on a pillow and he was covered by both a sheet and duvet. The Saiyan cooperated and seemed to process her command, giving one or two tiny grunts when Bulma spoke, but he did not reply or ask any questions.
Once Bulma settled down and turned off the lamp, her breathing began to slow and she felt her body relaxing. She never expected Vegeta to turn onto his side and lean close into her, draping one arm over her waist and burying his nose in the space between her neck and collarbone.
Not once during their times together had Vegeta ever done that, and Bulma wasn't so sure what to make of it. Normally Vegeta slept on his back, arms draped over his belly. Whatever vibration he was giving off seemed to warm her from the inside, and it was pulling her into a deep comfortable sleep.
She closed her eyes and quickly fell into the same unconscious space.
Vegeta was so excited to return to his home planet that he programmed his pod to bring him out of stasis fifteen minutes before landing, just so he could contact his family's residence within the royal palace and confirm his father was aware of his imminent return.
Not only was his father home and prepared to his arrival, but his infant brother was finally home from the nursery he'd been sent to immediately after his mother had given birth. Vegeta didn't know much about his mother; she was rarely at the royal palace and when she was, she only spent one hour per day with her son, rarely speaking but always ready to begin sparring. She was neither kind nor gentle, and Vegeta admired that about her.
"Father! Father!" Vegeta's tiny footsteps filled the great hall, "I have returned from another successful mission! I want to see my brother, right now!"
King Vegeta came striding into the great hall, a tiny bundle wrapped in a white blanket tucked in his massive arms and his regal face relaxed into an unusually gentle smile. "Welcome home, Vegeta. I have already heard of your great success working alongside Nappa and that talented boy they call Raditz."
"Of course I have succeeded, father, Nappa is a competent commander and Raditz shows great promise and already has the power to get through fortified barriers," Vegeta jumped up to catch a glimpse of the face within the bundle of blankets, "now let me see him! Let me see my brother!"
"Come, Vegeta," the king extended one huge hand for his son to hold on to as they walked through the hall and into a private chamber.
The young prince couldn't conceal his huge grin when King Vegeta guided the tiny baby into Vegeta's waiting arms, who was quick to cradle the baby against his chest and study his face. The baby was asleep and Vegeta scarcely breathed, determined not to make a sound so he could watch his little brother in silence.
"He's so little..." Vegeta finally spoke, voice barely a whisper and his eyes wide with amazement.
"Too little," King Vegeta scoffed, "he'll never be of any use to Frieza's forces. A weakling. Consider this meeting with him a final goodbye- we'd be better off to send him into deep space to complete an exploratory mission on a temperate planet when he matures physically."
Vegeta glared up at his father and protectively hunched over the infant. "No! He is my brother and I have waited long enough for a sibling, so he will remain here, at the palace, with me! And when I am not here, he shall be given the best of care as I direct it! If Raditz' pathetic little brother can be cared for on Vegeta, then my brother shall be kept here as well!"
"You seem very determined to see this through, my son. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
Vegeta stared his father directly in the eyes and drew the infant closer toward him if that was even possible. "I am very much certain, father. He is my brother, and I'm not about to abandon him!"
The tiny baby yawned and stirred in Vegeta's arms. The young warrior felt a smile creeping across his face and a tiny spark of warmth growing inside his chest.
What finally woke Vegeta the following day at one thirty in the afternoon was a persistent and familiar meowing. Scratch patted the Saiyan's shoulder with a front paw and meowed again when Vegeta grumbled.
"You again," he sat up and rubbed his eyes, "what do you want?"
"Meeeeowwww-rowwwr-rowwwwrrr, " Scratch jumped to the end of the bed and began licking a paw.
"Fine," Vegeta got out of bed, still slightly confused as to why he'd woken up in Bulma's bedroom, "I'm getting up. Damn cat..." all he could remember from the previous night was swimming in the pool and receiving a truly relaxing massage on Bulma's bed.
The kitchen was quiet when Vegeta went downstairs. He could smell the remnants of lunch (it smelled like tomatoes and butter) and suspected that anybody capable of preparing a good meal was away from the compound. He looked through the refrigerator for something to eat and eventually took a seat at the table with a bowl and spoon, carton of milk, containers of berries, and a box of cereal.
When he was on his third bowl of corn flakes and blueberries, Trunks came into the kitchen and eyed his father's meal. "Um, good morning?"
"Hello," Vegeta picked a blueberry from his bowl, "where is everybody?"
The boy from the future busied himself, preparing a cup of coffee and stealing occasional glances at his father, still unable to fully accept that the man currently eating cereal really was his flesh and blood.
"Oh, they're out with Tru- um, me... the baby version of me... guess it's time for another round of booster shots and check-ups."
"That kid is getting big. Fuck, it won't be too long before it starts mouthing off!"
The half-Saiyan inhaled sharply but forced himself to stop before he screamed at his father for his callous attitude. There is nothing you can do at this point, Trunks reminded himself, he's going to be the way he is no matter what you do, and he'll needle you into a fight. Get your snack and leave the room...
"On the other hand, it seems as though you've learned to keep your damn mouth shut while in the presence of greatness. There's hope for you after all!" Vegeta broke into a rather harsh and ugly peal of laughter and trilled his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He couldn't wait to show this conceited boy what a full-blooded Saiyan could really do in battle.
Trunks literally bit his tongue and decided waiting for a cup of coffee wasn't worth it. There was a decent cafe three blocks from the compound where he could get a good meal, and his doting grandmother had slipped him a wallet stuffed with cash several days prior. "There's instant coffee waiting for you when the kettle boils. Good luck with resting up and getting it together before things go from bad to worse."
Over a hot and very sweet cup of coffee and a fourth bowl of cereal, Vegeta allowed himself to recognize that all he could do now was rest and recover before the fight of his life. There was only so much training he could commit to now, not to mention he still had a severe sleep deficit to make up for with just hours remaining before the Cell Games would begin, and with no ship at his disposal, taking off into space simply wasn't an option.
Hair dripping and cape heavy and wet after being caught in a downpour, Vegeta was grateful to step into the warm apartment he shared with his two comrades. He picked up the steady bump of high energy dance music- it had become a constant within the last few months and Vegeta had actually learned to tune it out for the most part, although it seemed louder than usual today.
Nappa was seated in a large chair in the main room, scrolling through his tablet and obviously not interested in the stream of propaganda currently playing on the television.
"Any news, Nappa?" Vegeta pulled his cape off and strode into the main room, making eye contact with the elder Saiyan who seemed absorbed by whatever he was reading.
"We have a new mission and take off in ninety-six hours. Routine purge. Small planet with a weak native population that is unfortunately very heavily armed. Shouldn't take more than a week or two if you and Raditz do your shifts together. You two make a good team..."
Vegeta grumbled. Raditz was strong and intelligent, but over the past few months his behaviour had become erratic, and during their time off he had taken a schedule of partying all night and sleeping most of the day, things Vegeta did not approve of whatsoever. Their age difference was becoming an issue as well; the seventeen year old Raditz had grown into a tall, lanky young man, very excitable and expressive, aggressive, prone to distraction and not entirely aware of his own strength, while the almost twelve year old Vegeta had already committed himself to a lifestyle of daily training, rigid emotional control, and clean living.
"Well, the pay is pretty good. Looks like you're set to make forty large for this."
"Ugh!" Vegeta scoffed and switched the kettle on so he could indulge in a cup of a warming herbal tisane a respected herbalist had prepared specifically for him. "That's it?! Forty thousand? Fucking cheapskate Frieza. How long is the commute to our target?"
"Twenty eight hours."
"Whatever," Vegeta watched the kettle lit up and then switched itself off as the water came to a rolling boil, "I guess that's fine for a short mission. Nappa, I swear, I'm going to be demanding another raise soon."
The Saiyan filled a thick clear vessel with two large pinches of the herbal concoction and plenty of hot water, and almost instantly the water turned a deep shade of orange. The smell of warm spices and burnt sugar filled the air, and Vegeta felt himself already warming up from the inside-out.
"Be careful, prince," Nappa looked up from his tablet and smoothed back his thinning mohawk, "you got a raise just eight months ago. I would wait, if I were you."
Vegeta shrugged and took his tisane with him into his small bedroom. Barely three sips into his drink, the thumping of music from Raditz' room was so aggressively loud that he felt the need to investigate.
When Raditz did not respond to knocks at his door, Vegeta simply entered and found the older Saiyan staggering across the floor, right arm outstretched in an attempt to retain a sense of balance and his left hand clenching a small bundle. Raditz fell back onto his bed and burst into peals of laughter when he recognized Vegeta in the doorway. "Oh, shit! Look who's back! How's it going?"
"You are obviously very fucked up," Vegeta sneered, "you are completely pathetic! Blaring this terrible music and getting high in your bedroom. We have work in about ninety hours, so consider this your notice to get your head on straight."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm so bad and you're so good. We've been through this, Vegeta, and you know that I always get it together for work, so get off my ass and let me party! Besides, I'm going out tonight, so if you've come to bitch about the noise, it will be off in an hour or two. I promise."
"Oh, so this is just your little pre-celebration ritual? And to think I once admired your strength!"
Raditz dipped his little finger into a small bag of powder and sucked on it. "Yeah! Now get out of here before I beat your ass, you little freak!"
Screaming with his lips pressed together, Vegeta stormed back into his bedroom to drink his tea in private. He just hoped there would be something on entertaining on the television so he wouldn't have to keep listening to that terrible coming through the wall.