.::NINE::.
It took Bulma 28 hours over six days to repair the two remaining bots and the humanoid robot. The task had been way more challenging than she had anticipated, but she had managed to push through, even surprising herself with the improvements she had made. The humanoid robot could now absorb a ki blast. This enhancement had required 13 extra hours of meticulous work, but she knew it was worth the effort. Although the repairs had taken far longer than initially planned, she hoped the results would meet Vegeta's standards.
She sighed as she finally ascended the stairs to the main house with the capsules in hand, relieved. Her body ached with exhaustion, and her mind was weary from the intense focus she had maintained for days. As she headed toward her room, the thought of a hot, soothing shower was the only thing keeping her upright. Vegeta could wait a little longer for the bots; she needed a moment to decompress first.
Once in her room, Bulma placed the capsules on her nightstand, stripped out of her clothes beside the bed, and tossed them carelessly onto the floor. She then entered the bathroom, turned on the shower, and waited until the water was steaming hot before finally stepping in.
A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips as the warm water flowed over her skin, instantly easing the tension in her muscles. The sensation was so comforting that she stood motionless under the flow for minutes, letting the water work its magic before she even thought about moving.
The hot water felt like pure bliss as it flowed over her skin, a much-needed balm for her tired body. The ache in her back was a persistent reminder of the hours she had spent hunched over her work, fine-tuning the bots. Each knot in her muscles seemed to unravel as the hot water flowed over her, offering a momentary reprieve. Bulma found herself silently hoping that after she gave the Saiyan the capsules, he would leave her in peace for at least a few days. After all, she had been working tirelessly for the past week and desperately needed a break.
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she imagined Vegeta's reaction when she handed him the completed bots. Maybe, just maybe, he would be happy with her, even though it had taken longer than expected. She knew it was a long shot, but Bulma couldn't help but entertain the hope that he might even be a little proud of her that she'd repaired the humanoid robot to accept a ki blast. It was what he had asked for, after all.
But as she massaged the shampoo into her hair, Bulma shook her head, brushing the thought aside. The idea of Vegeta being happy, let alone proud of her, was ridiculous. The very notion made her laugh out loud. She knew better than to indulge in thoughts like those. Yet, despite knowing this, she couldn't entirely suppress the wishful thinking, even if it was absurd.
As Bulma rinsed the shampoo from her hair, her thoughts of the past week drifted into her mind. It was odd, really, this strange coexistence that they had somehow settled into. They weren't exactly friends, but their daily lives around each other almost resembled companionship. And on one particular morning, Vegeta had even joined her for breakfast, sitting at the opposite end of the long dining room table. He hadn't uttered a single word the entire time, his gaze fixed on his food, but the mere fact he had chosen to sit in the same room willingly with her felt like a victory.
After her shower, she toweled off and headed into her bedroom, flicking on the TV as she passed by. The familiar jingle of the weather channel filled the room, and she listened with half an ear as she rummaged through her closet. The forecast for West City promised sunshine and warmth, with no hint of the evening thunderstorms that had plagued the last few days. Bulma smiled at that, her hand reaching for her favorite swimsuit.
It had been far too long since she had laid in the backyard to catch some rays. As she slipped into the tiny bikini, she glanced down at her body, her frown deepening. Usually, Bulma would have a rich golden tan by this point in the summer. But this year, she was as pale as she had been in the dead of winter.
She combed her damp hair, grabbed her cigarette pack, and stepped onto her balcony. The sun was warm on her skin as she settled into the lounge chair, her fingers deftly lighting the cigarette between her lips. She took a slow, deep drag, propping her feet up on the railing and exhaling a thin stream of smoke. Her gaze drifted down to the gravity chamber below, where Vegeta was still training. He had been on her mind constantly this past week, with his presence lingering in her thoughts far more than she was comfortable admitting out loud.
There was something different about him now, something that had shifted in her perception of the man. Bulma found herself more attuned to his presence whenever she was around him. She was more aware of him in ways she hadn't been before. She took a long, slow drag from her cigarette and exhaled. Yes, she had always thought Vegeta was attractive; there was no denying that. But recently, her thoughts had taken on a new intensity, especially after that brief moment in her secret laboratory. She vividly recalled how his face had softened as he surveyed the room filled with inventions she and her dad had invented. There had been no scowl, furrowed brow, or tension etched onto his features. It was as if, for that one brief moment, the hardness that usually defined him had melted away.
And what Bulma had seen in that moment had been beautiful. She couldn't shake the image from her mind now, no matter how hard she tried.
Bulma took another deep drag, the familiar burn in her chest doing little to calm her racing thoughts. She exhaled slowly. Bulma knew it wasn't healthy for him to dominate her mind like he was. Some of her thoughts about him had even turned explicit, especially at night when she was alone in her bedroom, and Bulma wanted to banish those thoughts most of all. But the more she tried not to think about the Saiyan, the more constant he became in her thoughts.
Bulma finished her cigarette, the last ember glowing briefly before she flicked it into the bucket in the corner of the balcony. As she exhaled the final stream of smoke, Bulma let her legs drop from the railing and slowly stood, her eyes still fixated on the rounded machine in the backyard. The gravity chamber loomed below, a constant reminder of the man inside. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the railing as her thoughts spiraled deeper.
She couldn't stop thinking about him. It was maddening, no matter how often she told herself to stop or tried to convince herself that it was a terrible idea. Vegeta dominated her thoughts. For the past week, every waking moment, every second, he was there within her mind.
Her trance was finally broken when she noticed a shadow move across one of the small windows of the chamber. Blinking, she pulled herself away from the railing, cursing under her breath. How had it come to this? How had he wormed his way so thoroughly into her thoughts?
Frustrated, Bulma grabbed one of her short silk bathrobes, draped it on, and loosely tied the belt in a way that left little to the imagination. Then, she slid her feet into a pair of sandals and snatched the capsules from her nightstand, then Bulma exited her room.
Before she realized it, Bulma stood before the gravity chamber door and knocked. By this time, her heart hammered in her chest. But she rolled her eyes at herself; this was just Vegeta, after all. It wasn't like she hadn't been around him countless times before. But something about this moment felt different in a way she couldn't quite explain.
It took a moment before she heard the hum of the gravity chamber power down; the crimson glow faded from the rounded windows. The door slid open, and he greeted her with his usual scowl. But she saw it as soon as his eyes took in her appearance. The briefest flicker broke through his stoic mask. His gaze traveled slowly from her face down to her feet, then back up again, lingering on her exposed skin. A spark ignited within her, a fire she hadn't even known existed until their eyes met. She almost forgot to breathe.
"I've finished working on all the bots," Bulma said after she collected herself, extending her hand to reveal the two capsules in her palm. "Sorry it took so long."
"Finally," he grunted.
Vegeta's hand shot out, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the capsules. The touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through her, making her heart flip-flop like a teenager experiencing a touch from her crush for the very first time. She almost laughed at its absurdity but bit her tongue, knowing that he would likely misinterpret any sign of amusement.
"I made the humanoid bot like the rounded ones," she added quickly before he turned around. "You can shoot a ki blast at it now."
Bulma noticed his hand clench tighter around the capsules, and a small, hopeful part of her took that as a good sign.
"It will shoot it back," she told him, recalling the last time she had programmed such a feature into the bots and had not told him.
Vegeta nodded, then, before he turned to re-enter the chamber, his eyes lingered on her body again. He wasn't even trying to hide it, his stare moving over her curves with a slow deliberateness that made her pulse quicken. Bulma stood perfectly still, letting him look, every nerve in her body alive with anticipation.
Finally, Vegeta turned around and closed the door in her face, leaving her with her heart racing and her mind reeling from the encounter.
xXx
Vegeta clenched the capsules tightly in his hand, and the tension in his muscles was evident as his mind wandered, unbidden, to thoughts about the woman. His nostrils flared as he thought about the outfit she was wearing. It had barely concealed her most intimate parts. The image of her lingered, and he swallowed hard, trying to push the distraction away.
Vegeta had never seen her wear something so revealing before, and the sight of her stirred something deep within him. A wave of frustration surged through him as he bit his lip. The urge to focus on his training battled with his intrusive thoughts.
With a click, he activated the capsules and tossed them before him. The humanoid droid and two bots reappeared in a burst of smoke, sitting ready before him. Vegeta's gaze narrowed, determination hardening his features as he turned to the chamber's control panel. His fingers moved swiftly over the buttons, increasing the gravity by twenty percent, far beyond what he had previously trained under.
The room was bathed in a deep crimson hue, and the four bots ascended slowly into the air. The humanoid robot adopted a combat-ready stance, its mechanical joints whirring softly as it prepared for battle.
Vegeta unleashed a ki blast without hesitation, aiming directly at the humanoid robot. As the woman said, the bot absorbed the energy, its body momentarily glowing as it processed the attack. A moment later, it fired the blast back with equal force. Vegeta easily dodged the counterattack, his lips curling into a smirk.
The woman had outdone herself this time; her adjustments to the robot would be more effective than he had first believed. Vegeta stared at the bot with renewed interest, knowing it wasn't just a sparring partner anymore but a worthy opponent who could help push him further.
As he continued training, Vegeta quickly realized that the bot wasn't merely reacting to his attacks; it was adapting, learning from each exchange, and responding with increasing efficiency. It was as if he were fighting another living being, a rival that could challenge him. He could feel his blood pumping in excitement as he knew this was exactly the challenge he needed to ascend to the next level.
After about thirty minutes of intense training, Vegeta's concentration was broken by the sudden sense that the blue-haired woman was close. He looked out the window. She wasn't coming to knock on the chamber door, as he had expected; instead, she was walking across the backyard, a folded chair under her arm. Vegeta grunted, choosing to ignore her and return to his training.
But, after about five minutes, when she did not leave, his curiosity got the better of him, and Vegeta found himself returning to one of the rounded windows. His mouth went instantly dry when he noticed her. She had discarded the robe she had been wearing earlier and was reclining in the chair, clad in nothing but thin scraps of white clothing. Seeing her like this made Vegeta's throat tighten, and he swallowed hard as his heart rate quickened. Abruptly, he tore his eyes away from the window, forcing himself to focus on the robots around.
Vegeta clenched his fists; the desire to block out all thoughts of the human woman was overwhelming. This chamber was his sanctuary—a place where he could lose himself in the grueling demands of his training. The last thing he wanted was to be distracted by her presence, yet the image of her just outside kept flickering to the forefront of his mind.
She was practically naked, he thought to himself, and closed his eyes, desperate to refocus on the task at hand. He forced himself to think of other things. Determined to push her from his thoughts, Vegeta dove into a brutal training session with the newly fixed robots.
xXx
Bulma enjoyed the leisurely afternoon in the backyard, soaking up the sun's rays in her favorite two-piece bikini while listening to music from the portable radio she had brought outside. She had meticulously positioned her lounge chair on the soft, manicured grass, ensuring it faced the gravity chamber, where Vegeta was hard at work.
The summer sun bathed Bulma's skin, and a gentle breeze occasionally swept through, ruffling her hair. A small, satisfied smirk played on her lips. For the past thirty minutes, she had occasionally glanced toward the gravity chamber, catching brief glimpses of a certain someone as he eyed her lounging in the backyard.
Vegeta's shadowed figure would appear for just a moment before disappearing, and Bulma's smile grew wider each time. This was exactly why she had positioned herself just so in the backyard. She wanted to test a theory that had been on her mind.
Vegeta was a puzzle Bulma couldn't entirely solve. His thoughts and emotions were locked away behind a stern exterior, making it nearly impossible to know what was happening within his mind. Over the past few months, they had certainly clashed, sometimes explosively so, but there had been a surprising shift in the past few days. Perhaps it was the fact that they were alone in the vast emptiness of Capsule Corp. Or maybe it was because he knew she was working on the bots for him. Bulma wasn't sure, but she found out she no longer hated his presence.
It was nearing an hour as she sun-tanned outside, and Bulma, being the summer princess she was, knew it was time she reapplied her sunscreen. She smirked as she grabbed the bottle from the grass and squirted some of the lotion onto her palm. When she first came outside and applied the lotion earlier, Bulma noticed that that was when Vegeta's gaze lingered the longest. She hoped he'd do it again.
And, like clockwork, there the Saiyan was, his unmistakable silhouette framed by the rounded window. Though her head was lowered as she rubbed the lotion into her right thigh, she watched him from the corner of her eye through her sunglasses.
With a smile on her lips, Bulma leaned back into the lounge chair. She began massaging the lotion onto her stomach, her movements deliberately slow. She knew she was putting on a show, and Bulma was ashamed to admit that it gave her a secret thrill.
Even if Vegeta didn't particularly like her, he was clearly drawn to what he saw. The realization that she could elicit such a reaction from the Saiyan, a man who usually showed little interest in anything, ignited a spark within her.
Bulma's hands glided over her arms now, coating them in the silky lotion before she saved the most provocative area for last. The strapless bikini she wore left little to the imagination, and after she squirted a little more of the lotion into her palm, Bulma placed it on her chest.
She took her time rubbing the lotion into her breasts, moving her hand in gentle, circular motions. The subtle bounce of her breast as she applied the lotion was no accident. She could feel Vegeta's eyes on her, and even though he was inside the gravity chamber, his presence was heavy behind the glass, as if he were standing right next to her.
Once she was finally done, Bulma placed the bottle of suntan lotion back on the ground. Only then did Vegeta retreat from the window, leaving Bulma with a satisfied smile on her face.
Earlier, before Bulma had slipped into the skimpiest bikini she owned and strutted her stuff out into the backyard, she had carefully considered what she was doing. The decision hadn't been made on a whim.
Bulma had caught Vegeta's eyes on her before. His stare had swept over her body with such intensity that her entire body hummed with excitement as she recalled the moment. His stare had devoured her, and Bulma had found she had relished it, even though, at the time, she had still been with Yamcha.
Today, Bulma wanted to test the theory she had been building between them. She wanted to see if that hunger she had glimpsed in his eyes before had been real.
Yes, there had been that night when he'd nearly choked her to death in a fit of rage. But now, after analyzing the moment from a scientific perspective, Bulma knew it hadn't been personal—just a reaction driven by instincts that she had triggered from withholding information about the bots. Then, there was another moment when he came up behind her the night she had finished cooking his dinner and unexpectedly wrapped a hand around her neck. Then, and even now, when Bulma thought about it, she felt that the Saiyan had just been toying with her.
What if Yamcha hadn't shown up, though? Bulma wondered silently.
How would that moment have ended? Would Vegeta genuinely go through with something as drastic as killing her, or had there been something else in his intent? The questions lingered in her mind and had haunted her thoughts for the past week. She leaned back in the lounge chair and sighed deeply, searching for answers to questions she knew she would never find.
Without warning, Bulma's thoughts took a left turn from Vegeta and ventured straight towards the discovery of the hairbow she'd found in Yamcha's glove compartment. The night flashed before her eyes in vivid detail, and she flinched as she thought about the betrayal Yamcha had committed. The fact that he hadn't contacted her in over a week proved he was guilty because before, when they'd had their spats, one or the other had always relented and eventually touched base.
But not this time.
For the most part, Bulma had been doing well, not thinking about Yamcha and their ultimate end. She had found a much-needed break from her personal life while being stuck in Capsule Corp repairing the bots for Vegeta. Glad for the Saiyan and the distraction he caused. Bulma had been too exhausted to think about anything besides food and bed when she hadn't worked this past week.
But there had been small moments when she found herself unraveling. At times, Bulma couldn't help but dwell on everything that had transpired between her and Yamcha. Despite being together for a decade, their relationship had deteriorated long before that fateful find of the hairbow. To Bulma, though she hated to think about it, their break up had been inevitable.
Despite the sadness, there was a twisted sense of relief beneath it all. Bulma was glad they had drifted apart because if they had still been as close as they once were, discovering that hairbow in his brand-new hovercraft would have completely shattered her.
Instead, it had only confirmed what Bulma had already begun to suspect: that their relationship had run its course.
Sighing once more, Bulma rested her head back against the lounge chair, closed her eyes, and let the soft murmur of the radio wash over her.
Unfortunately, they had broken up and gotten back together so often that it had become routine for them. This time, though, it felt different to Bulma. When they last talked, there was an unsettling finality in their conversation. Bulma sensed that Yamcha had finally taken the hint and would truly move on this time.
As much as it pained her to admit it, Bulma had meant what she'd said to him that day. She genuinely hoped he would find what he was looking for—someone who could and would want to keep up with his extravagant life.
But the androids that were coming, Bulma briefly thought, was he even worrying about that?
Thinking of the androids, a small part of her wondered if things might change after dealing with their threat. Maybe once the chaos of the future was over and peace returned, the two could rekindle their relationship.
But for now, there was too much to focus on, too much at stake. The looming danger required all of her attention, and whether Yamcha liked it or not, Vegeta was now part of her world.
Bulma couldn't deny that she felt a certain responsibility for Vegeta now. She had created the rounded training bots for him when he first arrived at Capsule Corp, hoping they would help assist him, but, unfortunately, they had proven useless in her eyes. It seemed as if Vegeta's power would surge beyond her calculations each time she upgraded them, and the bots would end up destroyed by his blasts.
Deep down, Bulma knew she should have enlisted some of her colleagues at Capsule Corp to help with the bots, but for some reason, she hadn't. She wasn't entirely sure why, but perhaps Vegeta was the distraction she had unknowingly been looking for.
The gravity chamber powered down with a low hum, and Bulma's eyes snapped open, her gaze locking onto the rounded machine. Her heartbeat quickened, and a wave of nervousness washed over her. She had been counting on Vegeta to spend the entire day in the chamber, lost in intense training as usual with the bots she had brought him.
The plan had been simple and Bulma had intended to be long gone before the Saiyan had finished his workout. She cursed herself for thinking she could outplay him.
The chamber door slid open, and Bulma was caught in his stare, for Vegeta's dark gaze was already fixed on her. She swallowed the lump within her throat and forced herself to maintain an air of nonchalance as she lay out in the lounge chair. The radio was playing, but Bulma couldn't say what song was on because she was entirely focused on the Saiyan prince.
Vegeta was shirtless; the tank top he'd been wearing this morning dangled from his left hand, and his muscular body glistened with a sheen of sweat that caught the afternoon sunlight. He looked like a force of nature, all power and raw energy, as he descended the short ramp from the chamber while his eyes never left hers.
Bulma found she couldn't breathe. The air crackled with tension, and she couldn't shake the nervousness that had enveloped her. This little stunt of her dressing provocatively and lounging by the chamber had been meant for nothing more than a bit of harmless fun for her. A way to pass the time since, for once, Bulma had nothing pressing to repair.
But now her plan had backfired right in her face. What had started out as a playful distraction had turned into something else entirely as he finally exited the gravity chamber. Bulma found herself unsure of what to do next as he approached the back porch, which, in turn, would make him walk right past her.
Bulma felt an undeniable urge to break the silence as he drew closer.
"Did the bots hold up okay?" she blurted out, trying to sound casual.
After she spoke, Vegeta's gaze shifted away from Bulma, his eyes staring eagerly at the back doors. In typical Vegeta fashion, he chose silence instead of answering her question, but Bulma found herself relieved. She didn't want to talk to him anyway.