Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Cop Story ❯ Breakfast, Day Offs and Dinner ( Chapter 18 )

Disclaimer : Not mine and most likely not yours either. What else do you want me to say?

Warning: This chapter contains some random lemon snippets…

A Cop Story

Part Eighteen

By RM

Breakfast, Day Offs and Dinner

He grunted, bringing his right hand up to his forehead, rubbing his brow. Light streamed in through the window, muted by the gauzy curtains, but not enough to help his condition. He had a headache and the terrible dry mouth that went along with drinking way too much. He rolled over taking the pillow with him as he went, placing it over his head and relaxing into the other fluffy pillows on the bed. He pulled up the covers and sighed, not really comfortable waking up in the early morning. Working the graveyard shift had its pros and cons. It was usually quiet and no one was around much to breathe down your neck. On the other hand, your body got used to the weird hours of operation. And he also found that having a different schedule than most people put a damper on his social life. Which didn't bother him much, seeing that he was too busy with other things.

He was about to settle in for some more sleep when he caught the delicious aroma of bacon and coffee. Despite his hangover, he was rather hungry. He thought that maybe he should get up and make something to eat, then maybe nap a little since he did have to work later on today. He threw the pillow he had used to cover his head onto the floor and blinked the sleep from his eyes. And that's when he noticed something just wasn't quite right.

Pink. Everywhere.

He sat up straight as the covers fell to his waist, the pinkness of the room and everything in it slamming into focus. He looked down slowly to realize that it got worse. He was completely naked.

Panic. He started to panic for the first 5 seconds. But being a cop, and a trained fighter to boot, he knew that panicking was the one thing not to do, so he took some deep breaths and debated on his first choice of action.

He didn't know where he was. True, he was in a pink room. With a big, pink bed, pink carpeting, pink curtains, pink pillows…everywhere. White furniture, that was a plus, but it was covered in pink things, from big pink lamps, to a fuzzy pink phone. At least it was a place to start. He knew he wasn't at home, and he didn't figure that he had gone home with one of the guys. The only one of them there he considered having a room like this was possibly Jiisu. And he didn't think he could ever get that drunk.

He was about to lift the covers completely when his eyes practically popped out of his sockets in disbelief. Sure, he was attracted to her but surely…he wouldn't have…he couldn't have…

"Oh!" She giggled softly from the doorway. "You're awake." She smiled as she padded into the room wearing a tiny, pink silk robe.

He tried his best not to look shocked. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. And she certainly did look alluring in that little robe she had on. He unconsciously pulled the covers up a little as she tip-toed over to the end of the bed and began a slow crawl towards him, her robe opening slightly in the front exposing a bit of her creamy chest. He swallowed hard as she settled herself onto his lap, pulling his arms around her before settling her own around his neck.

"Good morning, Lover." She whispered, rubbing her nose against his.

He managed to not say anything, and in response to that she kissed him daintily on his lips. His mind began to race. He considered pulling away from her, but the truth was, he really did like her, and here she was, on his lap, on her bed, in a tiny little robe with lord knew what underneath.

The air was still and the whole room was quiet, the only sounds that of her flesh against the pink satin sheets, pulling them down from his lap, and the sounds of their kiss, sucking and lapping as it became harder and hotter. She repositioned herself on his lap while their tongues intertwined, and he groaned when he felt his hardness brush against her bare inner thigh, until she settled down onto him, pressing him into her silky curls. She was slick with excitement and he could no longer ignore his own growing need.

He cursed himself several times over for jumping in headfirst with this woman, but the longer the kiss lasted, the more his resolve thinned. He could curse at himself all he wanted, he finally realized. It wouldn't change the here and now.

Three hours later, he relaxed back against the pillows, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, but not all of it was his own. She panted on top of him, her hands flattened against his chest. She kept her eyes closed, hardly able to believe what the man was capable of. Then again, she had known he was something special the first time she saw him.

He kneaded her buttocks as he felt her muscles constrict around him once again as she came. It wasn't nearly as powerful as the one prior, but it was understandable considering they had stopped all movement minutes before, keeping himself inside of her just for the feel. She was incredible.

They stayed that way for several minutes. Once her soft moans and panting had subsided, he slowly pulled out of her, allowing her to lay back on the bed, snuggled into the pillows. He wasn't tired at all, much to his surprise, but he had to remind himself that he was in much better conditioning than she was. He looked back at her small form on the bed, and their gazes locked. She gave him an innocent, questioning look as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and began looking for his clothing. He dressed quickly, avoiding her gaze altogether. He had to get out of there. He had things to do before he had to show up for work in the afternoon. He hoped that she could understand that.

"You're leaving so soon?" She asked him quietly from her spot on the bed. She sounded tired, and a little bit disappointed.

"I have to work early today. I have a double shift tonight." He told her truthfully.

She bit her lip and her bright eyes began to brim with tears. "Well, I suppose…" she faltered.

"Can I call you tomorrow?" He asked. "I usually get home at around 8 in the morning. After I get some sleep, I'm free all evening until about 10." He offered.

"Oh Tien!" She bubbled. "I'll be home at 4 in the afternoon! I'll make us some dinner!"

"Great," he replied as he walked over to the bed and planted a soft kiss on her nose. "Launch? I'll see you tomorrow, OK?" He smiled down at her and then quickly retreated from her room.

When she heard her apartment door click shut, she laid back on her pillows and giggled with real glee.

"Listen here all you bears! I'm going to see him tomorrow!" She announced to her collection of stuffed animals scattered about the room.

And they smiled back.

*****

He hadn't stayed with his woman last night and he was rather angered by that. They had stayed with the others to close the bar, but before he had a chance to take Bulma home he received a request from the on duty Captain to report in. Yamcha had offered to take her home, which only made matters worse, but he didn't have much choice other than to agree. By the time he got to the precinct he only had a few minutes to shower up and change into his uniform since he already knew what it was they wanted from him. He knew he was right when he walked into the Captain's office and saw Piccolo waiting there for him.

"How bad is it supposed to be this time?" He spat angrily.

"Pretty bad, I guess." Piccolo's deep voice stated back quietly.

"Well, let's play by numbers. How many?"

"Six, maybe seven," was the reply. "They can't really tell until we collect the pieces."

"Why can't that jackass…" Vegeta began.

"They were there already. They didn't stay." Piccolo interrupted him.

"These humans," Vegeta grumbled, "they don't have the stomach for anything. I've killed millions, literally, and I never puked once." He stated with pride.

"Luckily, we can't all be like you." Piccolo stated back with a grin. "Let's get going. It's my day off too."

The drive to the crime scene was quick and quiet. They stopped to pick up a dozen doughnuts at Vegeta's insistence. When they arrived, there were four patrol cars stationed out front with their light bars flashing and a few officers searching the area, and another two officers watching the door. They nodded at Piccolo and Vegeta, their faces rather pale as the new pair entered the building.

It was a rather shady part of town, and the apartment building they were in certainly reflected it. They quickly made their way to the fifth floor, finding the place quite easily. Two officers stood by the door, which was currently closed and taped off.

"How long ago did they leave?" Piccolo asked one of the officers.

"About an hour ago," he answered nervously. Piccolo could tell that he was uncomfortable with the detail given to him.

"Did they leave any notes?" Piccolo asked this time. He could smell the stench already. He caught a glimpse of Vegeta's expression from the corner of his eye. He was frowning. Piccolo couldn't imagine being in Vegeta's shoes right now. If he could smell it so strongly, he couldn't imagine to what degree the Saiyan could.

"They took the voice recorder in for notes, but they were only in there for about two minutes, if that. They left it here for you." The officer handed Piccolo the small recording device.

"Thanks," Piccolo mumbled out. "We'll probably be a good few hours. Don't let anyone else in, except for #17 if he shows."

"I don't think that will be a problem," the older of the two officers replied with a nervous glance towards the door as Vegeta pushed it open.

They stepped in and closed the door. Piccolo grumbled and cleared his throat, clearly a little uneasy. He had been around humans a little longer than Vegeta and really wasn't too fond of this type of scene. Vegeta, on the other hand, shook his head slowly with his lip curled up in disgust. He had seen and been responsible for a lot of death and carnage in his time, but it never ceased to amaze him just what humans were capable of doing to each other. The room was plastered in blood and entrails, bits and pieces of several bodies strewn about the room. The reek of death and decay was everywhere, blood and other fluids soaked into the furniture and carpet.

"I'll take the bedrooms," Piccolo stated calmly, "you take the kitchen and bathroom."

Vegeta nodded and walked off, unclipping his small recorder from his belt, trying to ignore the robust, bitter flavor of the blood encompassing him.

*****

"Do you have to scrub so…ouch!" Krillin complained and snickered as #18 grabbed his foot and scrubbed it mercilessly with a large loofah. The pair had crashed at her place the night before, after dancing all night at the bar. It was now noon and it was definitely bath time.

"Every inch of you was covered in sweat and smoke. You will get clean if it's the last thing I do." She stated firmly holding his foot.

"Might be the last thing I do as well, at least with my feet," he mumbled.

She splashed him with the soapy water without relinquishing her hold. When he chuckled and protested she grinned and ran her finger up the center of his foot causing him to burst into a giggle fit. The water sloshed around as he squirmed in the tub.

"OK, OK! You win!" Krillin managed out between gasps of air and bouts of laughter, "take my foot!"

She smiled when he submitted to her so-called torture, pulling his leg around her and settling his limb across her flat stomach. He sat behind her in the bathtub, her shoulders resting against his chest as they lay there together. He brought his hands around to her front, running them down her shoulders, over her collarbone, and finally resting them on her breasts under the hot water. He leaned forward a little forcing her to sit up slightly, and began to gingerly kiss the back of her neck, her hair conveniently pulled back and clipped up so as not to get wet again after she had washed it.

"Mmmmm," she mumbled, "I like it when you do that."

He chuckled near her ear as he continued to massage her front. She was never one to hold anything back from him or from anyone. She was pretty honest about what she said to people, when she was willing to talk. She was the type of person that got straight to the point.

"We have all afternoon, you know." He whispered into her ear while fondling her from behind.

"Did you have something special in mind?" She answered back seductively, leaning into his touches, "or is it my turn?"

He seemed to consider her question for a moment before she decided she wasn't going to wait any longer for him to respond. She roughly turned on him, straddling his lap in the tub while her lips claimed his savagely. She gripped his wrists and held them over his head against the wall as she brought herself down onto him and then began to drive her hips forcefully into his again and again.

His vision blurred, the pleasure so intense he thought he was seeing stars. Above him, she began to moan, throwing her head back as the water sloshed out of the tub and onto the floor from the sheer intensity of her movements. After a time her grip began to loosen, enough that he was able to break free, bringing his arms around her back to grip her hips firmly, adding to the strength of her thrusts. He brought his head down to her chest as they moved together in their frenzied rhythm, her bouncing breasts too much for him to possibly ignore. He sucked at her sensitive skin as she came, his climax following shortly after.

The water lapped at the edge of the tub as they panted in each other's arms. She hugged him close, practically smothering him and crushing him at the same time, her orgasm was so intense. She absolutely loved this man of hers and it was at times like this she felt she had to hold onto him for dear life.

He thought he was going to die as she squeezed the life out of him. He was dizzy enough from the pleasure, but now she was squeezing the air from his lungs. She was a passionate lover, at times a little rough, but that was just the way she was. When she loved you, you certainly felt it.

"Uh, honey?" He finally choked out. "I think I'm…"

"Yes," she breathed, "we'd better move to the bedroom." She interrupted, standing up and making a grab for the towels, and inadvertently releasing him in the process.

He stood as she threw the towel at him and wrapped it around his waist. He watched her dry herself, and then her hair. She was so beautiful. He loved her eyes the most, so icy blue and somewhat slanted giving her that exotic appearance. He had always been lucky when it came to dating beautiful women, for whatever reason. She caught him watching her as she finished up with her hair and she grinned, more to herself than to him as she took in the thoughtful look on his face. Without much warning, she grabbed his towel and rubbed him dry, then grabbed his arm and leg as he chuckled a protest once again. She tossed him out of the room and into the bedroom, laughing as he bounced on the bed, a rather confused look on his face.

He heard her laughing from the doorway as he sat on the bed. Well, at least their day off would not be a day wasted.

*****

They worked quickly but with extreme care and precision. They were both very proficient with the procedures, and more comfortable doing the work than anyone else in the entire department. While most of the other officers didn't really mind dead bodies, ones that were mangled and mutilated and tended to run in multiples of four bothered more than a few.

Piccolo had finished with the two bedrooms in the apartment and had started work in the main living area, levitating so as not to get anything on his shoes. In the kitchen, Vegeta was doing some investigations of his own while eating his doughnuts.

"What do you make of all this?" Piccolo asked his partner for the afternoon from the other room.

"Well, they're all pretty much dead." Vegeta replied dryly.

Piccolo rolled his eyes and continued taking notes. Vegeta stepped into the living room and inspected the body Piccolo was working on. He reached down with a latex-coated hand taking a sample of the gore and rubbed it in-between his thumb and index finger. He sniffed at the sticky goo and was about to taste it when he thought better of it. Even though he couldn't contract any of the weak, inferior, human diseases, he didn't think that blood and brain tissue mixed well with powdered lemon custard doughnuts.

"They were drinking tequila quite heavily," Vegeta mumbled as he continued to roll the tissue sample between his fingers.

"Can you smell it in the blood?" Piccolo asked, jotting down notes on distances.

"No," Vegeta answered smugly, "I saw the bottles on the kitchen counter. Along with a rather large cleaver that showed some signs of wear."

"So you think someone went crazy with a cleaver?" Piccolo mumbled, now taking a few pictures of the bloodstained area.

"Hot cleaver. I've seen and done enough to know when there's an awful lot of heat involved." He answered this time, holding up one of the arms that had been hacked from one of the nearby bodies. "See these blood vessels and membranes? That's nice work." He commented.

"But there's too much blood," Piccolo suggested towards Vegeta's hypothesis.

"That's not a guess," Vegeta supplied, "but I wasn't suggesting that the cleaver was the only thing used. Come now. I realize that the top of the line cutlery can do a good job, but all of this?" He gestured around the room.

"So what's the official count?" Piccolo asked as he frowned.

"Nine and a half," Vegeta informed him. "I found a small child in the bathtub, mostly. It was rather…messy." He creased his brow.

Piccolo would take his word for it. If Vegeta was willing to admit that something was messy, he certainly wasn't in a hurry to see it.

"What time is it?" Vegeta asked suddenly as he looked towards one of the windows. It was getting dark outside already.

"It's 4:15 and I believe we've done all we can here. The clean-up crew is just going to have to suffer through this." Piccolo stated as he placed the camera he'd been using back into its small bag.

Vegeta grimaced and nodded. It was getting late and he knew if he was much later he'd catch hell from the woman. Tonight was the night he was supposed to go to her parent's house for dinner. He was tired, not having slept at all the night before, and he was hungry, not eating a decent meal in over 24 hours. And he really needed to shower. His hair was still limp, falling past his shoulders down his back. It was returning to its original thickness, but not its original form. He growled softly, ignoring Piccolo's questioning look. He'd have to get home as soon as possible to get dressed and ready. He promised.

*****

She was beginning to get angry. She had been calling him all day. Well, ever since she woke up. She was peeved when she had awoken earlier with a hangover that could kill an avid Irishmen the morning after St. Patrick's Day only to find that she was alone. Totally alone. The sheets weren't even bunched on the bed. He'd brought her home and hadn't even stayed.

Her eyes narrowed the more she thought about it. She slammed her foot onto the gas pedal and practically growled at the nerve of that little prick. Well not little, she thought as she raised her eyebrows in thought, only to frown again when she thought about this afternoon. He had promised he would call her. He hadn't. She parked her car, and strode into his apartment complex, mouth set in a scowl of grim determination. He would go to dinner with her if she had to drag him out. She was willing to bet her life on it.

She thought she broke her hand banging on the door. During her second assault on the heavy wooden barrier, it swung open, revealing a very surprised, very wet, and very naked Vegeta. She gasped as he grabbed her and pressed her against his body, pushing against his chest with her hands.

"If you wanted a bang against the door woman, I could have arranged that easily," he whispered into her ear as he closed the door and pressed her against it.

"You're all wet, you ass!" She complained.

"So nice of you to notice," he arrogantly replied, kissing her chastely and letting her go. He made his way back into the bathroom as she watched his figure retreat.

"It was NICE of you to CALL me this afternoon," she bitterly called out as she followed him down the hall. "You could have at least told me you weren't planning on going!"

He rolled his eyes as he held the razor up to his face. "Give me a fucking break, woman. I was called in last night and I have been at work all day. I had no way to call you." He stated calmly as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. "What do you think I am doing now?"

"Pissing me off for starters!" She shot back. She was just so furious with him. And from the looks of it, he was trying to make her the bad guy.

She stalked into his bedroom and practically threw herself onto his bed. She was breathing heavily, clearly upset, but trying her best to calm down.

He walked into the bedroom preparing to get dressed. He was in his underwear as he opened the closet, taking out a pair of pants and a shirt, throwing them both over an opened dresser drawer. When he turned to get a pair of socks, he watched her laying across his bed, chest heaving. She was wearing a long, deep red skirt, a slit running up to mid thigh and a pair of brown suede knee high boots. Her top was a cream colored, cashmere turtleneck.

"I thought you said this was casual?" He asked her doing his best to stay calm. She seemed a bit miffed about something and he didn't want to needlessly set her off. Not when he had to put up with her for the better part of the evening.

"It is," she replied back a bit shortly.

"Woman, jeans and …"

"Just wear something nice!" She nearly shouted, sitting up. "I don't suppose you have a tie?"

He gave her a blank look as she glared at him. She finally shook her head, sighed, and lifted herself off of the bed, leaving the room. When she came back she was carrying two small boxes and she was quite thankful that he was already dressed. She hated the fact that her body reacted whenever she saw him even half dressed.

She moved to stand in front of him as she opened the boxes, considering each one. She finally picked the first one she opened and threw the material around his neck. She frowned as she tried to keep her gaze on his throat, looping the tie with a practiced hand. Getting annoyed with her snotty attitude, especially when he was the one being considerate and doing her the favor, he cupped her chin in his hand, and forced her gaze up a few degrees to look at him.

"What IS your problem woman?" He asked as he turned his head slightly to the side and stared hard at her.

Her bottom lip quivered a little and he started to panic for a moment. Oh shit, he thought, she's about to cry.

"You left me all alone last night," she whispered as her eyes misted over with the beginnings of what he feared would be a downpour. "Do you have any idea of how unwanted you make me feel sometimes? I know you don't want to go with me tonight, but…" she broke into little sobs.

"I told you, I was called in," he tried to sooth her as he embraced her and rolled his eyes when she couldn't see his face. He kept the same reassuring tone as he continued, "I promise I will make it up to you, OK?" He rubbed her back as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. If she got his shirt dirty, he would have to kick her ass.

"I'm sorry," she apologized softly, "I'm stressing. I think it might be PMS." She didn't want him to let her go as his hand moved in large circular patterns on her back and he rocked her gently in his arms.

PMS. PMS? What in the hell was PMS? Sure, she was Pretty Moody Sometimes, but that didn't quite fit the whole spectrum. He wasn't about to ask. "Let's just have a good dinner, OK? I'm really hungry, and I admit, I am really tired." And you have me really whipped, he added to himself before sighing, "I promise I will behave. So no stressing."

She pulled away from him and smiled. He was right, of course, but she wasn't about to admit that. She just nodded at him as she finished fixing his tie, then headed to the bathroom to make sure her hair and make-up didn't smudge, not once telling him that it wasn't him she was worried about.

*****

"Wild night last night, huh?" Yamcha asked Tien as they sat in the lounge having their dinner, which consisted of pizza and coffee. Tien's complexion paled and he nearly dropped the pizza he was eating when the question was raised.

"Why do you ask that?" Tien finally said after he was finished choking down his pizza.

"Well, you and that Miss Launch looked pretty cozy last night." Yamcha wiggled his eyebrows. "And everyone knows that you two shared a taxi home."

Tien shifted in his seat. "That doesn't mean we went home together, as in one person's place… together."

"But you did, didn't you?" Yamcha questioned. He had participated in enough of his own one night stands to pick out the signs.

Tien covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes as he sighed. "I didn't mean for it to happen that way." He confessed after some time. "I am interested in her, but not just for one night. Can we not talk about this right now?"

Yamcha nodded and Tien visibly relaxed. He had been thinking about everything that had happened all day. He had resolved that he would try his best to make whatever relationship Launch wanted work. He was actually looking forward to having someone in his life to do things with, even if it was just cuddling up on the couch to laze around all day. Besides, he was very much attracted to her and she seemed the type.

"What about you?" Tien finally asked Yamcha. "Did you meet someone last night?"

"Uh…" Yamcha hesitated before he sat up straighter and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah. I met someone." He smiled. He was not very good a lying.

"Tell me about it," Tien asked.

"Uh…" Yamcha hesitated again. "Great hair…" he paused. "Long," he added.

Tien nodded.

"Great body," he paused again. "Tall," he nodded at his piece of pizza. "Great smile, good sense of humor." He paused again. "We're going out on Wednesday night. I'm actually looking forward to it." Yamcha finally stated.

"And why wouldn't you look forward to it?" Tien gave Yamcha a calculating look.

"It's still just all so…" Yamcha fished around for the right word, "new."

Tien nodded. He could understand that.

"Lieutenant?" A voice sounded from the doorway, "we had a call come in, possible homicide."

"Thanks," Tien acknowledged as he downed his coffee and headed briskly for the door. "Good luck, Yamcha."

And Yamcha nodded. He would certainly need it.

*****

Vegeta squeezed his eyes shut as the woman's mother passed behind him once again on her way to the kitchen. He was standing in the living room having a pre-dinner cocktail watching his woman and her father tinker with some gadget on the coffee table. He wanted to jump when he felt the blonde woman's hand press against his backside yet again. She had been touching him all night, mostly on his ass, and he was trying his best to ignore it. He didn't want to cause a scene. He promised.

He was quite impressed with the compound. Coming from a royal line, he had seen many palaces and other strongholds. While Capsule Corporation wasn't the biggest and grandest thing he had ever encountered, it was quite large, and also quite lavish. He had no idea that Bulma came from money. He suspected, he supposed, from little hints around her apartment, and from the way she dressed. But he hadn't known for sure.

"That does it, dad. It's all fixed!" Bulma smiled at the moustached man, then looked towards Vegeta, who nodded at her. "Let me go and help mom in the kitchen for a few. I'll leave you boys alone for a minute or two. OK?" She asked and then walked through the door to the other room.

Bad idea.

Dr. Briefs regarded Vegeta for a minute with a calm expression. He knew exactly what the other man had been doing with his daughter for lord only knew how long and where. Bulma was his little girl, and she would always be his little girl no matter what. He sometimes had a problem seeing her as the beautiful grown woman she was, and in turn, he had never liked any of her past boyfriends. Luckily there had only been two before this one. He was very different from them though. The others had been taller, for one thing, but there was something about this one that suggested that he didn't scare easily, unless it was scaring other people.

Vegeta watched Dr. Briefs as he glared at him and in response he glared back. He recognized him immediately when they had arrived for dinner as the old man he had almost flattened after his quickie in the lab with his blue haired vixen. From the looks of it, Dr. Briefs seemed rather protective of his daughter. Vegeta `hmphed.' He could play this game if that's what the old man wanted.

"So, how long have you and Bulma…"

"Two weeks," Vegeta replied, taking a sip of his drink.

"You only met two weeks ago?" The older man continued to glare at Vegeta.

"Oh, no." Vegeta shook his head, breaking his own glare. "Probably about four months. The sex started two weeks ago. You were there." Vegeta shrugged and finished off his drink, aiming his glare right back at the Doctor.

Yes he was there, he thought bitterly. "You seem like the type of man who gets to the point," Dr. Briefs observed. "I am only going to say this once, Vegeta. If you ever do anything to hurt MY little girl, so help me…"

"You humans," Vegeta chuckled then continued in a less than amused voice, "why would I hurt her? The purpose of taking a mate is not to hurt the other party involved. Mates are to be cherished, protected, honored and respected. If I were to hurt her, I would only be hurting myself. And believe me, I don't need to hurt myself through her." Vegeta practically snarled at the other man. He couldn't believe that the man would actually think he would hurt Bulma on purpose. In fact, the thought of anyone harming or hurting Bulma at the moment was riling him. He clenched his fist and tried to calm his breathing as a surge of energy swirled down his arm. Raditz wasn't here to keep him from going overboard. He needed to learn to control this protective attitude he had developed towards her.

Dr. Briefs eyes flashed in alarm. He had heard some things from the Commissioner about some of the men in several of the precincts. How some of them were rather different from the other officers. Not human as were some of the other officers. That is to say that they were aliens.

"You're one of them," he stated almost incredulously. It was then that the scientific response kicked in. The anger, concern and any other hostility was replaced by overwhelming curiosity. If Bulma could hold on to this one, just think of the investigative possibilities. "Does Bulma know?"

"Of course the woman knows!" Vegeta angrily retorted. He noticed the other man's glare had been replaced by a look of awe, a little calculating, but awe nonetheless. It was about frigging time, Vegeta thought. He was about to add something more when Bulma stepped in from the kitchen carrying a huge platter of horsd'oeuvres.

"I hope you two have been behaving," Bulma commented cheerfully, her eyes telling a completely different story. She glared at Vegeta then leveled her threatening gaze on her father who coughed, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back. She knew well enough the problems her father had caused in the previous relationships she had.

"If you must know woman, we were discussing your father's work on gravity simulations and their limitations." Vegeta replied smoothly as he walked towards the table where the food had been set down.

"Oh," Bulma answered back, genuinely surprised. She had no idea that Vegeta followed that type of stuff, let alone knew of her father's work on the subject.

Dr. Briefs was also somewhat surprised. He regarded the alien that his daughter was involved with once again. He was a smart little one to be sure. Perhaps he really wasn't like the others she had brought home.

She quietly walked back into the kitchen to help her mother set the dining room table, looking back over her shoulder once to observe the two men engaged in a riveting conversation involving just what could be done to simulate gravitational forces and to what degree, when she felt a hand on her upper arm pulling her into the kitchen.

"He's so handsome, Bulma dear!" Her mother bubbled. "He's definitely marriage material."

"Mother!" Bulma hissed. "You don't even know him!" She didn't need this kind of pressure. She could hope that maybe someday Vegeta would be the one, but right now she just wanted to get to know him better, have fun, and just enjoy dating.

"What's there to know?" Her mother asked, tossing the salad she had made, "he's handsome, extremely sexy, has a good, trustworthy job, and your father likes him."

"Dad likes him?" Bulma questioned. "He said that?"

"Well, not exactly, but he's been talking about him for the past two weeks." Mrs. Briefs commented with a giggle. "Well, it mostly comes out in mumbles."

After hearing that she was really worried. She finished setting the table and peeked back into the front room to find her father and her boyfriend getting along quite famously. She clasped her hands together and prayed that the rest of the meal could proceed without incident.

Three hours later, she hugged her parents and thanked them for the lovely evening and Vegeta shook her father's hand briskly and smirked. He eyed her mother coolly and shook her hand as well, trying his best to escape without making any further bodily contact. Bulma's eyes widened when she witnessed her mother launch herself into Vegeta's arms, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and a firm pat on his rump. She teased him the rest of the way back to her apartment about how easily he blushed after the exchange.

She convinced him to stay overnight this time, having grabbed a change of clothes for him earlier from his place. He was actually too tired to argue about it and seeing that he had eaten at least twice his own weight at dinner, he was basically ready for bed. He collapsed onto one of her leather sofas and nabbed the television remote, settling on a boxing match which had basically just started while she went into her bedroom to change. She emerged ten minutes later in a pair of knee socks and an old T-shirt with paint stains on it, throwing a pair of sweatpants at a lounging and extremely exhausted Vegeta. He quickly peeled off his pants and shirt, throwing them on the floor behind him, and slipped the more comfortable attire on. She watched him as he sat there staring straight ahead at the television, eyes glazed over from lack of sleep. She wandered over to the sofa and stood near him, holding a blanket.

"Woman, I am in no mood for that tonight," he told her sternly as he frowned, taking in her appearance.

She paused and looked down at what she was wearing. It wasn't as if she was trying to look good, she had washed off the little bit of make-up she had on, her hair was all crinkled from being in a tight bun all day, and she was wearing an old shirt. She could see if she wandered out wearing something little, sheer and lacey, but this?

"You could be wearing a shit-encrusted, burlap bag, and I would still think you were the most desirable thing in the universe," he supplied from the sofa, almost as if he was reading her thoughts. He finally looked up at her and held out his hand, which she took, and pulled her down next to him with a sigh, wrapping her up in his arms and the blanket. She settled into him immediately, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest.

He hated her guts for doing this to him, and he just couldn't bring himself to tell her how much he loved her.

*****

Well, I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with this installment. My laptop is acting up, so the transfer of files has not been a nice experience. I should have the next chapter up tomorrow.