Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Accidental Redemption ❯ GIRLTALK ( Chapter 4 )

Thanks again to Meliza Mac, SSJ NaCoBe and Kyra Fable for beta-ing and all your great advice. You guys are the best!

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ACCIDENTAL REDEMPTION

By Evil Saint

IV. GIRLTALK

*Do I stress you out

My sweater is on backwards and inside out

And you say how appropriate

I don't want to dissect everything today

I don't mean to pick you apart you see

But I can't help it

It had been the longest of long days and Bulma was very grateful to be home at last. She was looking forward to a nice, romantic evening with Yamcha and taking a much needed break from the pressures of running a fortune five-hundred company.

It was hard to believe she'd been at it for only three days!

"How does Dad do it?" She wondered as she slouched through the front door, crossing the entrance-hall and moving through the living room to the staircase. She kicked off her pumps and held on to the railing for support, balancing on one leg to rub an aching foot.

"Elarim." A soft voice crooned from behind the couch on the opposite side of the room.

Bulma shrieked with fright at the unexpected greeting and clutched her chest to still her pounding heart, nearly toppling over as she reeled to face the speaker. It took her a second to recognise the girl standing in her living room with Dr. Briefs' purring black cat cuddled in her sinewy arms. Although she was still scrawny, Chi Chi's culinary skills had done her a world of good and she didn't look nearly as gaunt as she had when they'd first met. She was head and shoulders taller than when Bulma had last laid eyes on her and her hair, which used to be shaved off close to her scalp, had grown out into a matted, blond and auburn tangle that plummeted down to her waist.

"How the hell did you get in here?!" Bulma demanded when her fright induced panting subsided.

"Through the door." The girl answered matter-of-factly, her face expressionless as she quietly appraised the human female.

"All the doors were locked!"

"I know."

"Then how'd you get in? You don't know the codes."

"I used energy to counteract the system. It wasn't very hard." She stated in that patented eldritch voice of hers, utterly unperturbed by Bulma's apparent qualms.

"Oh… well… Vegeta's not here." The woman was puzzled when she came down for breakfast that morning and was not greeted by a pile of dirty dishes. Her confusion intensified for a moment when a peek out of the kitchen window told her that the GT-pod wasn't in commission either, but then she realised that Vegeta was probably off on one of his enigmatic sorties and simply forgot about it ~ until entering her living room a minute ago.

"I know."

"Then… um… what are you… doing here?" Bulma stuttered nervously, coughing to clear her throat, which was suddenly lined with sandpaper.

"My presence disturbs you."

"What? … No! …You just caught me by surprise, that's all. Would you… maybe… like something to drink?"

Nurami nodded.

"Alright! Great! Then just take a seat in the kitchen and I'll be right with you, OK?" The girl said nothing, but placed the sleepy feline on the couch with startling tenderness and did as directed, leaving a nonplussed Bulma alone to collect her thoughts.

The woman felt a stone of anxiety drop to the bottom of her stomach as she swiftly reviewed the unexpected turn of events in head. She'd only had superficial encounters with the girl in the past and they'd never had an actual conversation. On the trip to Namek the Saiyan restricted herself to interacting with the other fighters, ignoring Bulma like a stop sign the whole way. Upon arrival she took off immediately after sensing Vegeta's energy signature, utilising the technique Gohan and Krillin had taught her during the journey, and Bulma had hardly seen her since. So why would the girl make an appearance now that she was all alone in the house, save for the state-of-the-art guard robots which she apparently foiled quite easily?

With a change of clothes and a hot bubble bath being out of the question, Bulma tried to count her blessings and remembered that at the very least she was free of her restrictive shoes as she moved cautiously into the kitchen to tend to her imposing guest. The woman smiled wanly at the seated child as she entered the room, the girl's countenance remaining serenely blank while she drummed her fingers expectantly on the table-top.

"Where the hell is Vegeta when you need him?" Bulma thought reproachfully while making her way to the refrigerator, watching the girl in her peripheral vision.

"OK, let's see…We have ice tea, lemonade, cola, cream soda…"

"I'll have that." Nurami interjected before Bulma could finish relating the long list of available beverages.

"Cream soda?"

"Mmhmm." The woman could feel the girl's eyes on her as she took the bottle from the fridge and placed it on the counter. She collected two tall glasses from a cabinet above the sink and filled them to the brim with the fizzy green cooldrink, her hands shaking noticeably with nervous tension. Bulma silently cursed the fact that all the alcohol was locked away in her father's liquor cabinet in her parents' den on the third level. She could've really used some help from Jack Daniels or Captain Morgan right about then.

Carefully picking up the hissing glasses, Bulma walked over to the table and placed one in font of Nurami, sitting down in a chair opposite the girl. She took a draught of her own drink and watched as Nurami sniffed hers hesitantly, her nose wrinkling as the bubbles tickled it, before taking a small sip. She'd clearly never had cream soda before and Bulma had to stop herself from laughing affectionately at the girl's almost cute antics when a pair of uniquely shaded eyes pinned her from over the glass's rim.

Bulma smiled again and squirmed slightly under Nurami's unwavering gaze, noticing that in addition to the obvious changes in the child's appearance, faint signs of budding womanhood were visible through her skin-tight bodysuit. The woman wondered vaguely about the girl's age; she looked about fourteenish, but then again, so did Gohan and he was only nine.

"So `Nurami' huh? That's a pretty cool name. I'll bet it means something really impressive too… Like `Fearless War Goddess' or something…?" Bulma inquired lamely, feeling sorely on edge as she and the young demi-Saiyan regarded one another. The kid's exotic-sounding name was the only topic she could think of to break the awkward silence. Vegeta had indicated once that she was a "crossbreed" of sorts, but Bulma had no idea which alien race accounted for the other half of the girl's DNA. She only knew that a fierce killer lurked beneath the child-like veneer of the warrior sitting across from her and frankly, she wasn't sure what to expect.

"Not quite. It's Saiyan for `girl-child.'" Nurami replied, dipping an index finger into her drink and stirring it around before licking it clean. Her voice was soft and fluent like flowing water ~ ice water ~ and sent pinpricks up and down Bulma's spine as she spoke. Still, the answer was far more forthcoming than expected and despite her chilling tone the girl seemed quite interested in making conversation.

"Oh." Bulma replied thickly, unable to think of anything more engaging to say.

"`Girl-child ?!' Kami, did those chauvinistic Saiyan bastards call all women by their sex?" The woman pondered with an inward frown, simultaneously agitated at the flagrant lack of creativity in the name's origin as well Vegeta's trite disregard of her own appellation.

"I had a different name once, in the language of my mother's people, but my old battle-kin preferred to change it." Nurami went on, seemingly unbothered by the one-sided alteration of her identity and then looked around suspiciously before gesturing for the woman to lean in closer. Bulma stared into the large gilded eyes for a second before adhering to the child's request, if somewhat reluctantly.

"… Saiyans can't speak Veshari; it's too hard to learn because it's not programmed into the ULCs." The girl informed her, whispering close to Bulma's ear with her little hand hiding her mouth as though she was revealing the best-kept secret in the Universe. There was such innocence in the mannerism that Bulma couldn't help smiling in spite of herself.

"Maybe there is a child in there somewhere..." She thought as she sat back, laughing strenuously in an attempt to sound jovial. Bulma deduced that "Veshari" was some or other obscure alien dialect, but she didn't have the foggiest clue what "ULCs" were. She decided not to betray her ignorance, though. She still felt uneasy. After all, Yamcha had told her that the little sadist flashed him a smile before barbequing his organs and expelling his innards all over the countryside!

The eleven-year-old reasserted her martial discipline as she reclined in her seat and surveyed Bulma silently for a few seconds before speaking again.

"So your mate told you of his death, did he? I don't see why. If I'd put up such a laughable resistance in a battle I'd rather be Dodoria's whore than have anyone know about it. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised after the way he advertised his weakness when we rallied to face Frieza. You don't have to be afraid, though. I have no reason to hurt you."

"I'm not afraid!" Bulma refuted quickly with more bravado than she felt, taken aback by the girl's accurate assessment of her thoughts.

A condescending snigger escaped Nurami's lips at Bulma's words, but her tranquil façade quickly slipped back into place. She folded her arms knowingly, probing the woman with a derogatory stare before countering.

"You're lying." She stated placidly from across the table, contradicting the ominous glint in her yellow eyes. Bulma shifted self-consciously in her chair, well aware that the little bitch was relishing her discomfort from behind the composed mask. With that thought, the woman felt her sensible caution mutate into righteous anger at the girl's forwardness and resolved to put her in her place.

"All she needs is a damn good spanking." Bulma thought as she locked eyes with the alien brat, pushing the drinks aside and leaned forward to prove her point, unabashed aversion plain in her oceanic gaze.

"Just because you're a member of a soon-to-be extinct race of barbarians, doesn't mean everybody pisses themselves around you." She said in a disparaging tone, recklessly imprudent of the child's volatile affinity for bloodshed.

Nurami raised an eyebrow at the human's brazen show of disdain. Then she closed in as well, rising to the challenge. She liked this Earth woman; unlike her mate she was no coward.

"Perhaps... " She said in a quiet, yet piercing tone "… that is why it is so fortunate that Saiyans have ways of knowing when fear is present... and when it needs to be instilled."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?!" Bulma snapped, all instincts of self-preservation evaporating in the heat of her indignation at being threatened in her own kitchen. The miniature mercenary grinned triumphantly at the Earthling's inquiry and leaned back in her chair with an air of superiority about her.

"Saiyans can smell chemical changes in blood and those of the more basic emotions, like fear, are especially potent ~ Raditz explained it to me…" She said proudly before continuing the biology lecture "… Natural steroids are flowing through your bloodstream as we speak, betraying your anxiety. But like I said, there is nothing to gain from harming you so you have nothing to be scared of." Bulma blinked back her surprise at the girl's eloquent summation, feeling slightly levelled by what she'd just learned.

"Raditz explained that to you?"

"Yes. He knew everything."

"No shit." Bulma mused, stupefied at the notion that any Saiyan, let alone a relative of Goku's, would be informed about something not directly pertaining to fighting or food and then have the foresight to pass on his knowledge.

"… But lemme get this straight, you can smell changes in a person's blood?"

"Yes. All Saiyan-senses are far more acute than humans'; smell is just one of them."

"Mmm, interesting… Vegeta too?"

"Obviously."

"Yeah… Obviously." Bulma echoed, unnerved by the discovery that Vegeta was able to determine her moods by scent, leaving her at a distinct disadvantage.

"… So um… what's `Veshari' anyway?" She asked, feeling a little bolder after Nurami's promise not to hurt her.

"The Veshari was my mother's people, but they went to war against the Kold Empire and their homeworld, Sirith, was destroyed, just like Planet Vegeta. Very few survived, but those that remain are feared throughout the Universe."

"Wow! Were they warriors too?"

"No. The Veshari had the gift of Xel Alar… It means that they were the most powerful telepaths in the Universe." She explained upon seeing Bulma's befuddled expression.

"Telepaths… you mean they could read people's minds?!" Nurami's features took on a pained expression at the woman's ignorance before responding by way of an affirmative grunt.

"Frea-ky! So can you … like… do that kinda stuff?"

The girl shrugged in assent.

"Whoa! So that's how you knew what I was thinking." Bulma said with an anxious laugh, her tone betraying more of her re-established apprehension than she would've liked.

"I guess I should be careful what I think." The human made a mental note and automatically began chewing on her bottom lip as she gauged the girl's behaviour, wondering exactly how much of her mind had been laid bare before the child's prying eyes.

"You needn't fret, Earthling. I don't like invading people's minds, but sometimes I can't help picking up a stay thought here and there."

"I see…" Bulma said with a thoughtful expression now gracing her fine features, her mood changing abruptly with the reassurance that all her skeletons were still safely tucked away in their closets "… don't s'pose you could gimme the low-down on Vegeta then, huh?" She chortled conspiringly, thinking about the juicy titbits the girl might have been privy to and the possibility of applying such knowledge in future arguments with the manipulative Saiyan Prince.

"I most certainly could not!" Nurami hissed in response, flying out of her seat and knocking over her soda as her fists dented the tabletop in sudden outrage, making Bulma jump.

Neither female paid any attention to the small servo-bot that immediately scurried over from its alcove to sweep away the glass fragments and mop up the spilled cooldrink before disappearing again.

"… Saiyans may have limited telepathic aptitude, but Prince Vegeta's skills were honed from birth and his mental shields are impenetrable! I would never attempt to probe his mind!" Her intonation was inappropriately calm as ever, though the temperature of her already glacial voice had dropped a considerable few degrees.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to insult you. I was only joking ~ honest." Bulma apologised quickly, raising her hands in front of her as if to ward off an attack.

"… Wait a sec. Did you just say that Saiyans have telepathic powers too?"

"Yes. Most races have some kind of telepathic ability. Yours is the most pathetic species I've ever encountered when it comes to mastery of the mind." Nurami snarled, still glaring daggers at the woman in front of her, but Bulma pretended not to notice.

"Those Saiyans certainly are a versatile bunch, aren't they?" She pondered aloud, sounding almost dreamy. Bulma knew she was acting like an airhead, but she couldn't be sure how far Nurami would go to satisfy her clearly offend Saiyan honour and she'd learned from her mother that it was incredibly difficult to stay furious at someone if they appeared not to comprehend your ire. All she could do was pray that the kid wouldn't catch on to her ploy.

Luckily, the girl was too busy battling down the plethora of emotions evoked by the mention of breaching Vegeta's psyche that she didn't pick up on what Bulma was feeling. She swallowed the act hook, line and sinker, rolling her eyes at the woman's apparently non-existent attention span and snorted in disgust as she retook her seat. She didn't want to risk Vegeta's wrath by injuring the Earthling. He had to be quite smitten with her if he'd be prepared to put up with such insolence.

Bulma heaved an inward sigh of relief as the girl's temper cooled, thankful that the tactic had worked and swiftly continued the conversation, lest the kid catch on and freak out again.

"So, did you come here just for soda and conversation, or was there something else on your mind?" Bulma asked sweetly, hoping for a change of subject that wouldn't set the girl off.

"I can't spend the night at Goku's and I need a place to sleep." Nurami answered, getting straight to the point.

"Oh. Did you and Chi Chi have a fallout or something?"

"Yes, but that's not why I want to stay here. Goku's having his Unrak Nagul. I know it's not as fierce as it would've been if there was a moon, and he can probably control himself, but I still don't like taking unnecessary chances. Normally I sleep in the forest, but..." She trailed off, grimacing as she rubbed the tender bruises on her back and shoulders in a shameless play for sympathy.

"Goku's having what?" The girl forgot her contusions and stared at Bulma disbelievingly for a moment. When she determined that the woman really wasn't teasing, she groaned and rolled her eyes once more.

"Don't you know anything? His Unrak Nagul! … The `Moon Fever'? …*sigh*… Saiyan males have ruts, linked to the phases of the moon that…"

"Rut?! You mean… he's… like… going into a rut?!"

"Yes." Nurami bit out in reply, not bothering to disguise her exasperation. The woman had clearly never been cornered by a Saiyan male in a full-blown fever if she could sit there laughing as though it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard of.

"… Can I stay or not?" She pressed impatiently, not at all amused by the human who was now clutching her sides, her eyes watering as she doubled over with mirth.

"Yeah… Yeah… Of course you can stay…" Bulma gasped as her gale of giggles died down "… but only if you tell me more about this `Moon Fever' thing."

Nurami complied and they continued to talk, swiftly loosing track of time as the girl held Bulma spellbound with outlandish tales, not restricted to Saiyan culture, but also of extra terrestrial civilizations, space pirate feuds, interstellar trade routes and innovative alien technologies ~ "ULC" turned out to be the abbreviation for Universal Language Converter: a microchip implanted in a person's brain, giving them the ability to speak, read and write any language programmed into device's database.

Both women startled when another high tech communications device ~ commonly known as the doorbell ~ intruded on Nurami's fascinating narration, pulling Bulma back to Earth at a dizzying velocity.

"Oh crap, Yamcha's here!"

"Your mate?"

"Yes!"

"My sincerest sympathies, then."

"Ha ha, very funny. Shit! I'm nowhere near ready. Come on, we have to get the door!" Bulma scrambled to her feet as the bell sounded again and practically ran to the foyer with a smirking Saiyan hybrid in tow. The woman didn't even bother to turn on the lights in the entrance-hall and nearly fell against the door in her haste, flinging it open to reveal a smart looking Yamcha on the other side. He smelled of Blue Stratos and was dressed to kill in a black Armani suit and blood-red silk shirt with no tie, hinting at his sculpted chest. Bulma on the other hand was barefoot, still donning a sweaty, navy-blue business ensemble and reeked of stale cigar smoke residual from the day's business meeting at West Capitol City's Old Boy's Club.

"Um… H-hey Babe." Yamcha greeted her unsteadily, his Cheshire grin turning into a confused grimace as he took in her appearance.

"… Why aren't you ready? We're gonna lose our reservation."

"I'm really sorry Yamcha, but something came up and…"

"Elarim Human."

It was then that Yamcha saw the cause of Bulma's tardiness and his skin crawled as the girl met his eyes with an evil smile. Nurami hadn't seen the human in some time and she fancied ruffling his feathers a bit ~ just for kicks.

His face turned several shades of green when she upped her energy and made a show of lowering her eyes to his midsection, her grin widening slightly so that her dog-like fangs gleamed in the light pouring in from the porch. Yamcha froze and lowered his own eyes to his abdomen, feeling sick with the memories kindled by her display. He shuddered when the twisted little runt threw her head back and cackled with glee at his reaction.

"Silly Human." She jeered, still laughing derisively and shaking her head in amusement at his alarm.

"I see your tail grew back." Yamcha snarled angrily, remembering what Krillin had told him about the girl's defeat.

"Indeed." She answered smoothly, adopting Vegeta's classic stance as the appendage under discussion unfurled from her waist, thrashing challengingly.

"…Though you still seem to be missing a certain pair of crucial body parts." She retorted, leering blatantly at his crotch. Yamcha opened and closed his mouth like a fish on dry land, struck dumb by the girl's open vulgarity.

"OK, break it up you two!" Bulma intervened, stepping in-between the agitated fighters.

"She stared it!"

"Oh, very mature Yamcha."

"You're my girlfriend, Bulma! You're supposed to be on my side! What is she doing here anyhow? I though Mr. High and Mighty gave her orders to train with Goku… "

"Not now Yamcha, there isn't time." Bulma said authoritatively and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders to steer her towards the stairs.

"… Come on. I'll show you to your room, but gimme attitude and I'm calling Goku to Instant Transmission your ass back to the forest right now, got it?" She whispered to Nurami in her strictest tone, earning instant compliance and looked over her shoulder to address her incensed boyfriend.

"… You wait here. I'll be ready in fifteen minutes, and then we can go OK?" She said, turning a deaf ear to Yamcha's stammered objections and hustled the girl up the stairs and toward the empty guest-room in her parents' wing on the third floor.

"No rest for the wicked…" Bulma thought wryly as she dashed to her own boudoir to get ready for her date.

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* `All I really want' by Alanis Morisette

Next Chapter: Vegeta's back at the mansion and Bulma gets her hair done.