Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Count Down From Ten ❯ As It Starts ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter One

(Bulma's POV)

The leaves on the trees surrounding the compound were no longer bright green; instead they had turned to warm browns and vibrant reds. Only a few trees had shed all their leaves as the crisp month of October finally set in. I couldn’t believe it had been two months since the boy from the future had come to warn the Z fighters and myself about the androids. Since nobody wanted to listen to my plan on using the Dragon Balls to resolve this whole ordeal, life at Capsule Corps has been a little hectic. Yamcha is constantly up my ass, not training at all and the “prince” was always commanding my father and I to make training harder for him. 

It felt like I never had time to myself anymore. All I wanted to do was sit outside; take some time to enjoy the fresh crisp air, all bundled up in a nice cozy sweater. Instead, I was neck deep in work; all due to a hard-headed house guest. On the rare occasion where I could sit down to a cup of coffee with my mother, I would express my disdain for his pretentious attitude, simply trying to vent to her. She would retort that she just adored his determined demeanor and she was always quick to remind me that she loved catering to his huge Saiyan appetite. It was hard not to notice how she would always swoon around him; regularly commenting on how handsome he was. She would constantly tease me saying as a scientist I should jump at the opportunity to study a specimen like him, a knowing wink accompanied her insane statements. It irked me, I had no clue what fantasy land she lived in but I swore if it wasn’t one thing it was always another.  

My morning had started well enough, my father and I were in the lab discussing business when Vegeta had barged in with a mangled pile of metal. He undermined my father and I’s intelligence with his casual harsh words then stormed out the room leaving a slight dampener on my mood. What was supposed to be an easy morning in the lab turned into a morning of grunt work. As we proceeded to re-build two new bots we continued to discuss our next couple of projects for the company. By the time we finished the training droids it was well past noon. My father quickly called down a work-bot to deliver the finished droids to the gravity room. We walked to the kitchen together. 

I was not surprised to see Yamcha and Puar sitting at the table. They had been coming over quite often, I felt my mood lighten as I gave Yamcha a warm smile. My mother tossed us a cheery greeting as she continued to place assorted dishes on the table. I took a seat next to Yamcha and we chatted lightly as everyone stacked their plates. My soured mood dissolved as I enjoyed my lunch, so much so that inspiration had hit me for a much better design for the arrogant prince’s training droids. 

~

 I have once again found myself in front of my disorganized workbench, frustrated with the half metal sphere in front of me. Yamcha was not making this process easy. He had decided it would be a brilliant idea to keep me company while Puar took the opportunity to help my mother with the dishes. 

I didn't have the heart to turn him down. It was nice to have his presence but the more he deterred my focus the more I mentally berated myself for allowing him the pleasure of watching me work so hard. He was sitting at my desk, his feet lazy propped on its surface as he kept chattering away about the uninteresting lives of his baseball team mates. It was easy to draw up the blue-prints I had in mind but the process of building the droid was proving almost impossible. He would occasionally ask for my opinion on certain matters thus interrupting my train of thought; yet I clumsily continued to work. 

I focused on soldering the last components of the mainframe chip when Yamcha interrupted me once more. 

“Why do you think Cody acts like that babe?” The scar-faced fighter inquired curiously.

I didn’t even look up to meet his eye, “Yamcha could you give me a moment, I am trying to finish this droid for Vegeta and it’s hard to concentrate with you asking these questions every minute.” I chidded honestly, trying to not come off as harsh. 

“Why are you even building that guy anything useful?” He questioned my actions in a bitter tone.

I scoffed at Yamcha's response, “You realize without his help we could all die, right?” I bite back as I shoot a glare over my shoulder toward the scar-faced man, trying to prove a point. Even though Vegeta was an asshole he had already proved himself to be a strong asset.

Yamcha sat up straight in the chair, his arm  defensively crossed to his chest. “That boy from the future said he dies too. What makes this time any different?” Yamcha replied coldly his mood had obviously shifted at the change in subject.

Annoyed, I dropped the screwdriver onto my workbench before I swiveled my own chair around, meeting his dark brown eyes. He flinched at my reaction; even though he was a fighter, he never stood a chance against me. “This time we have a warning, this time we have an antidote for Goku,  and this time every one of our capable fighters are training their asses off to ensure the planet's safety. Everyone seems to care enough to put in the work, with the exception of you, lazy ass!” The words flowed from me like a roaring waterfall, I couldn’t contain the ferocity of the statement. It was hard to ignore my obvious stress over the situation. 

I watched the fighter cower before me; I let out a heavy sigh. I was not expecting a response from the man with whom I’d spent nearly a decade with. My eyes trained on his and I ignored the pang of guilt steadily building in my chest. I held my hard composure as I realized how unfair it was of me to explode at the man I loved but he knew what he had said was cruel.

He uncrossed his arms and sighed, “I’m sorry babe.” He apologized coolly before he stood from his seat. He stretched his arms lightly as he continued. “I’m going to go grab Puar, I’ve gotta hit the gym anyways. You can go back to work.” He muttered, meeting my eye one last time before he proceeded to leave the lab. It was obvious my statement had offended him.

The silence that filled the lab became off-putting so I got up from my seat, strolling over to my computer. I browsed through my files before selecting my favorite playlist. Once the music was playing at an even volume I pushed the small altercation between Yamcha and I to the back of my mind, I knew we would move past it. I skipped back to my desk and plopped down in the chair ready to focus on the task at hand.

After scanning over my blueprints another three times, I was able to modify the outer design. I looked over at the almost complete sphere on my desk. Observing every panel with a keen eye, a smirk made its way to my face – if I could make these more deflective, it would be a lot harder for the prince to break them. 

~

Another hour of scheming and three hours of assembly, I had perfected all the inner workings of the droid. The metallic outer shell gleamed brightly in the stark white lights of the lab. “Let’s see if Vegeta can break this one!” I yelled with a determined shout as I ripped my welding mask off, I half-hazardly tossed it aside. I stared at my reflection on the clean metal surface as I peeled off my gloves. I greedily grabbed up my creation, I hugged the droid to my chest and spun on my heel; starting a confident strut through the doors of the lab and down the hall. 

My heels clicked on the hard tiled floor of the compound, when I reached the sliding glass door in the kitchen I crowded the bot against my hip and arm to slide the door open with a free hand. I continued to stride through the grass and up the ramp to the gravity room. I placed the bot on the floor before I proceeded to bang my fist on the door. 

(Vegeta’s POV)

I could feel the woman’s weak ki heading toward me before I heard her insistent banging on the door. She was always coming to bother me… how annoying. I ignored her dull thuds at the door, but it was more difficult to tune out her ear splitting screams.

 I pursued my training, dodging the feeble lasers as they shot past me, my body straining to move through the force of three hundred times this planet’s gravity. My routine was impeccable– until the system shut down, allowing the woman to open the door. 

I shot an icy glare her way, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, GIRL!? BESIDES MAKING MY EARS PRACTICALLY BLEED?” I shouted at her with pure aggravation.

The first time I interacted with her on Namek she had definitely been frightened by me but now she was unaffected by my menacing demeanor. She displayed a confident smile which bothered me to no end. The bright haired woman leaned over to pick up something out of my line of sight. 

I straightened my back and crossed my arms against my chest as I instinctively took in her appearance; her white lab coat had small burns in it, along with several grease smudges. I noticed her legs were barely covered as she stood taller than normal with those ridiculous shoes she chose to prance around in. As she straightens her back once more my nostrils flared and I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t stand that cocky smile plastered on her face, she was more annoying than a Serillian blood mite.

 “Well, Prince Asshole! I made you a new training bot.” Her smile never faltered, but her voice dripped with sarcasm. I narrowed my glare at the annoying woman and she shrugged her shoulders, “Well if you don’t want it I’ll just go and give it to Yamcha.” She badgered as she half turned away, but I prevented her departure by sidling up in front of her strategically blocking the gravity room entrance.

“Leave it here, girl. You designed it for me, not that weakling. ” My voice seethed with anger as I bared my teeth to the brazen earthling. 

She met my icy glare with her own burning stare. “I am not a girl, I am the genius woman who built this!” She hastily declared as she waved the metallic sphere in front of me.

“I can make these for anybody, not everything is about you, Vegeta!” She seethed harshly as she stood her ground, like an experienced warrior; it aggravated me that such a weakling as herself had the gull to stand up to me.

I drew my lips back in a snarl, “Do not test me, girl; I can kill you with a flick of my pinkie finger.” I seethed through gritted teeth my face inches from her own.

The fire in her eyes never faltered from my threat, they flared wickedly as her pupils dilated, “For the last time, I am not a girl. I am a grown woman Vegeta! Go ahead and kill me, you'll just have to deal with Goku afterwards.” She proudly declared her lips curled to a sick smile. 

I despised the sound of his wretched excuse for a name, my blood boiled, “I’ll kill him too.” I replied maliciously. 

 She chuckled at my retort. I shoved myself past her, forgetting about that stupid bot as I stomped towards the control panel. It was hard to ignore how her insignificant chuckle flooded my veins with searing anger. 

Her shoes tapped against the floor as she followed behind me. I chanced a glare over my shoulder only to be met with her confident stare. The woman looked insane as she held out the bot as if it was her prized possession; a malicious smile still on her painted red lips. 

“You must have forgotten that you need the assistance from my womanly genius in order to gain the power to defeat Goku.” She cockily clarified.

I scoffed at her remark as I eyed the metal sphere in her grasp. I completely ignored her comment altogether.

“I already have droids to work with so leave me be, girl. I need to train.” I crassly brushed the earthling off. I turned my back to her as I glared down at the control panel. She failed to take the cue to leave instead she opted to linger just like this planet’s polluted air, still holding that blasted bot in her hands. 

She disregarded my command and casually walked over to the controls. I turned to glare at her as she leaned against the other end of the panel, my nostrils flared wickedly as she analyzed the bot and displayed a different confident grin.

“This bot is completely different from the other ones, sure those can shoot lasers and float around, but this..” she waved the sphere around once more to enunciate her statement, “This is fresh off the press, the outside can absorb and reflect energy so you can shoot bigger blasts at it!” She wickedly explained as her smile widened. Her blue eyes glistened with something I hadn’t seen before as they focused on the metal sphere.

“It can move at faster speeds and it can also infuse its own energy into the blast as it rebounds.” She paused briefly awaiting my response.

 My scowl hardened as I crossed my arms to my chest, meeting her with my ridge silence; she furrowed her brow, “This bot could increase the intensity of your training tenfold.” She finished confidently. 

I analyzed the metal sphere once more, taking into account the woman's forced speech. “Bring it here then woman, stop wasting my time!” I demanded crassly.

Her smile broadened as she took two steps towards me, she roughly thrusted the bot outwards at me.

“Don’t break it, Vegeta.” Her voice oozed with sarcasm; I growled in response as I snatched the bot from her grasp. She swiveled on her heel and I watched as she walked away. My eyes trailed down her figure as I scrutinized her appearance. A fresh swell of frustration rose in my chest as I watched her stop in the frame of the door. She turned back and tossed me a raised brow, her lips pulled in a smirk before she finally left the room. I despised the way she’d lingered about, I had no clue how a weakling such as herself has the audacity to talk to me the way she had.

I detested that woman.

I returned my attention to the droid in my possession. I rotated the bot in my hands, analyzing the exterior; noting the slight difference between this model and the current models that I was training with. I hit the button that synced the droid to the gravity room and threw it up in the air. It stayed in that position as I threw a small blast at it; sure enough, the energy bounced off quickly darting around the room hazardously. A satisfied smirk graced my face.  

When I first arrived on this wretched mud-ball I was under the impression that the blue haired woman held no importance, it made me wonder why they had brought her to the planet Namek in the first place. I turned up the gravity and proceeded to test the new droid. 

When I first returned from my impromptu space excursion I had only gone to the old man to demand training equipment, it was a good way to begin my brutal training regime. At the time the woman held no importance to my goal so our paths rarely crossed. 

After I had mastered the measly one hundred times earth’s gravity I went to demand another gravity upgrade from the old scientist, the blue-haired harpy was in the laboratory as well. I ignored her presence that day and ever since then she’s proved her intellectual worth. 

It didn’t take long to assess how much power the metallic sphere could withstand compared to the current models. I couldn't say I wasn’t impressed. Now if only I could knock her down a notch so she knows who she is dealing with.  The woman touts her intelligence quite a bit; she always gives herself too much credit.   

Her words from earlier crept their way back into my mind and I felt a flicker of irritation. I have persevered my whole life; I didn’t need her stupid gadgets in order to gain my power. I will ultimately gain enough strength to defeat Kakarot with or without her and that old man. They were merely pawns in the grand scheme of things. I shoved down my frustrations and glared up at the stalling droid. There was only one thing that blue-haired harpy stated correctly today, this droid will make training more interesting.                                                                                                                            

(Bulma’s POV)

(1 week later)

My week has been going exceptionally well, Vegeta had yet to break any of the training bots, nor had he demanded upgrades for the gravity room. That meant I could finally focus most of my attention on all of the work projects my father and I had built up. We had strategically worked through a multitude of different experiments, ending with the most important one. I had designed a new jet, which will hopefully be of use to the military. We had already built a crude prototype; the military would surely approve of its design. 

My father had worked with the military on occasion but he had always been wary of sharing too much of his genius with them, he was a man of peace naturally. I had been worried about bringing that topic up with my father in prior years, of course that was before the saiyans' first arrival on the planet, then there was Frezia’s surprise visit to Earth. We both came to an understanding that we may need to help the world’s united military design better weaponry. I was overjoyed by his approval of my work. 

Neither Yamcha nor Puar had come to visit the compound this week which had honestly concerned me. My fifteenth year anniversary with Yamcha was today and when I woke up this morning I was worried our small argument in the lab had thrown a wedge into the joyous occasion. I had checked my phone while I descended the main staircase, it was hard to contain my enthusiasm as I sauntered into the kitchen. Yamcha had texted me earlier this morning, he wanted to surprise me which was not something that he was normally good at. The only thing he asked from me was to wear something elegant and that I was supposed to be ready at six this evening. To say I had been distracted all morning was an understatement. 

I spent the majority of my morning daydreaming in the lab. My mind raced with so many different scenarios that I didn’t hear the doors to the lab open, I fell from my chair as a clump of metal clamored against my desk. After the initial shock of the noise, I recognized the mangled material instantly as a training bot. I jumped to my feet and glared at the saiyan responsible for the rude interruption. 

“WHAT THE HELL VEGETA!” I roared, looking down at my desk. I picked up the first wrench in reach and threw it directly at his face. If it wasn’t for his stupid in-human reflexes it would have definitely blackened his eye but instead he just had to catch the damn thing. 

“Fix this bot immediately.” His stoic command fumed my anger. 

I scoffed at the arrogant jerk, crossing my arms defiantly. “I don’t have to do a damn thing for you, I am busy.” I replied calmly.

He dropped the wrench on my desk as his nostrils flared. His black eyes smoldered with obvious annoyance and he sneered back at me, “I will blast you to pieces woman! DO AS I SAY!” He roared before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the lab. I glared daggers into his shirtless back, infuriated at myself for being reasonable with him instead of screaming at that asshole. 

“Gosh what a jerk!” I fumed to the empty room. I focused my attention to the mangled mess on my desk, tilting my head to the side as I analyzed what other people might call a pile of junk. A smirk made its way to my face as I made out the barely visible serial number, this was one of the older model bots; it wasn’t the one I had just designed. At least he didn’t break that one, yet. I strolled around my desk and looked at the clock which was displayed at the bottom corner of my computer screen, it was only twelve-noon. 

I picked up my almost full pack of cigarettes, pulling one out; I put the white stick to my lips and lit it with a calculated flick of the lighter. I tossed the lighter back on the desk, pulling open one of the drawers I rummaged through various prints. I had finished all my work for the company so I could at least get started on this bot and then at four I will leave the lab and get ready for my special date.

~

I shuffled over to my desk and glanced down at my blueprints, taking a mental picture before returning to my work station. I flipped my welding mask back over my face and continued to solder the components of the mainframe chip. The stupid prince had completely fried the circuits in the previous bot, so the only salvageable piece of the whole thing was the melted metal that could be turned into another bot. I continued to hum along to one of my favorite songs, I was really in the zone. I was just about finished, all I had to fix were two tiny circuits. I flinched slightly when I felt a light tap on my shoulder, I stopped what I was doing and turned my head. 

Yamcha was standing there looking very confused. I tore my welding mask off, “Holy shit! It’s six already!” I panicked and looked down at my greased appearance, comparing it to Yamcha’s nice pressed black suit and red tie. I turned off my soldering gun and dashed over to my computer to turn off the music. 

I looked back at him and gave him an apologetic smile, “Yamcha I am so sorry, let me run up-stairs and get dressed real quick!” I breathlessly explained as I ran up to the scar faced man I loved, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. 

“It’s okay babe, it’s only five fifty, our reservation isn’t until six thirty so if you rush we can still make it.” He chuckled lightly, giving me his goofy smile, hinting that he wasn’t angry at me for being absent minded. He extended his hand, displaying a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses he had hidden behind his back. 

I beamed a smile at him as I gently grabbed the bouquet. I took a generous sniff and beamed him a smile, he remembered my favorite flowers.

“I’ll be ready in five minutes, meet me in the kitchen.” I assured him as I tossed him a wink. I rushed out of the lab, inhaling the delicate scent of the flowers once more. 

I raced up the stairs, and through the main hall making a beeline towards the staircase that led straight to my hallway. I burst through my bedroom door, practically slamming it as I quickly tossed the roses on top of the scattered mess of my vanity. I ripped my clothes off, almost tripping myself as I fumbled to the bathroom. 

I took the quickest shower of my life, as I scrubbed the grime off my body I had to be careful not to wet my hair. I knew it would take far too long to style it once it was wet; I hastily turned off the water and rushed out of the shower grabbing the towel hanging off the door to dry my body. 

I ran out of the bathroom and over to my dresser pulling out a simple pair of black bikini underwear and matching lace bra, then I stormed over to my closet throwing the door open. I searched through my abundance of colorful dresses and settled on my crimson dress, the back was almost fully exposed except for the thin straps criss-crossed in an ‘x’ formation. I dropped my towel, I pulled my underwear on before I looked down to the dress on my bed and the bra in my hand. It was a small debate but I tossed the bra aside before I shimmed into the dress; taking a careful once over in the mirror to fully appreciate the plunging neckline. 

I scoured the mess on top of my vanity for my favorite matte red lipstick, applying the product with a careful hand. I fumbled around to find my black eyeliner and after shifting a couple of things to the side I was successful. I added a modest wing to both of my upper eyelids. Satisfied with my small amount of effort I looked over my appearance in the vanity mirror once more, damn I look good. I rushed back over to the bathroom, spraying my hair with my favorite dry shampoo and giving myself a healthy dose of one of my luxury brand perfumes.

 I strolled out of the bathroom and back to my closet to grab my six-inch high heels that matched the crimson of my dress. I had to sit on my bed to strap on my shoes and risked looking at the clock, it read six-ten. I cursed rather loudly as I quickly pulled my shoes on, I managed to grab my small purse off my vanity as I rushed out of my room. I was no doubt upset at myself, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t pulled myself from my work to properly prepare for my own anniversary.

I darted into the kitchen, impressed by my own speed considering my foot-wear. My mother was of course slaving over the stove making an enormous amount of food and Yamcha was sitting at the table looking slightly aggravated. Yamcha was glaring at Vegeta who was also sitting at the table eating a variety of food that my mother had already prepared. 

I smiled at the agitated scar-faced man, “Alright Yamcha I’m ready, we should get a move on.” I promptly state to grab his attention.

He tore his hateful gaze from the saiyan, his full attention on me, his mouth dropped open and a blush rose to his cheeks, “Kami, Babe. You look amazing!” He stammered out as his eyes practically devoured my figure. I gave him a wink and motioned for him to come towards me.

He jumped out of his chair and rushed over. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a light kiss, “Let’s get this show on the road.” I whispered huskily as I pulled away from him; he nodded his head in approval, a sly smirk pulling to his lips as he took my hand. 

“Bye, Mrs. Briefs!” Yamcha cheerfully called towards my mother, she turned around and waved her hand. 

“You kids have fun, make sure you don’t get home too late!” She called back to us and I scoffed at her statement. 

“We aren’t kids Mom!” I irritatedly tossed back, dragging Yamcha out of the kitchen with me before my mother had any other comment to throw our way. Once we were out of the front door I reached into my purse to pull out my fastest plane that I had in a capsule. When the beige cloud disappeared my dark blue vehicle appeared. 

“So are you going to tell me where we are going or do you want to drive?” I cooed encouragingly, tossing the man I love a wink. 

He gave me a big smile and I savored the glint of excitement in his eye, “You mean you’ll really let me drive!” He explained boyishly. 

I laughed at his goofy statement. “Of course!” I confirmed as I brushed past him to climb into the passenger seat, waiting patiently for him to join me in the vehicle. 

~

The dinner had begun better than anything I had expected. Yamcha had made reservations at the most exclusive French restaurant in the city. The restaurant had a wonderful ambiance, the walls a dark mahogany with elegant carvings; the lights were dimmed to make the most romantic ambience. 

We were sitting at a private table in the corner away from everybody else. He was a true gentleman as he pulled out the heavily cushioned chair for me to sit in. While I settled myself in I appreciated the tall centerpiece in the middle of the table. Yamcha knowingly selected my favorite bottle of wine. When the waiter left to retrieve our wine we both browsed the menu as he began telling me some new amusing stories pertaining to master Roshi and Oolong to pass the time. When the waiter returned he filled out glasses and proceeded to take our food order. 

As he left Yamcha continued his set of stories, occasionally taking a sip from his wine. When he finished retelling his tales he simply gazed at me, the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkled as the corners of his mouth turned up. 

I smiled back at him, he really was a handsome man; it was nice to feel normal for once. 

“So B, what had you so caught up in the lab? You looked really focused, it must be something of high importance for capsule corp.” He asked nonchalantly.

 My smile brightened; it wasn't often that Yamcha genuinely asked about my work. “Well actually, funny story, I’m caught up on all my father and I’s projects; we literally finished a solid jet proto-type yesterday.” I replied casually.

He raised a questioning eye-brow, “Soo, what were you working on? It must have been serious business if you basically forgot about our anniversary.” He questioned teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows in emphasis.

I chuckled lightly, choosing to take a sip of my wine before I waved a dismissive hand.

“It wasn’t anything that important, just fixing a training bot is all.” I said calmly past the rim of my glass.

Yamcha frowned, I knew I had messed up by admitting what I was doing prior to our date. I was well aware about how he felt toward Vegeta; I was expecting some backlash of some sort but he simply lifted his glass of wine. He took a gracious gulp before setting the glass back down. “I don’t know how he trains so intensely in that gravity room all the time, he’s going to kill himself one of these days.” He refuted rather calmly.

I shrugged my shoulders at Yamcha’s comment, politely laying my hands on the table tapping one anxious finger, “I mean it’s obvious he is a tad bit obsessed with training, you could use a little of his work ethic.” I replied teasingly. I tossed him one of my light-hearted smiles, trying to show that I was only joking lightly with him, but his frown proved that he had taken the comment the wrong way. I took another small sip of my wine before I placed the glass down on the table giving Yamcha a reassuring smile as I waited for his response. 

“I tried using the Gravity room the other night, it almost crushed me to death!” He growled through gritted teeth.

I dropped my smile and stared at Yamcha in disbelief, “I can not believe you were stupid enough to do such a thing Yamcha!” I seethed back. I tried to keep my voice down, kami, but the thought of Yamcha straining in that intense gravity infuriated me more than it worried me. 

His eyebrows snapped together as he glared back at me, “I was just trying to see if I could endure it, that's all.” He countered through gritted teeth, his hands balled in fists. I reached my own hand out, resting it on his strained fist. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding back, taking a second to analyze his eyes to understand his emotions. 

I knew that being angry with him was not the way to go so I gave him a weary smile, “Yamcha, I’m sure you realize that you can’t compare yourself to Vegeta. It’s like comparing apples to bananas; the only thing you two have in common is that you are both fighters.” I reassured him in a soothing voice.

His eyes never left my own and I saw the aggravation slowly melt away from his expression, his face relaxed as he replied. “You’re right babe.” He reasoned as he gave me a light smile, his fists relaxed, allowing our fingers to intertwine. He brought my hand up to his face, kissing the knuckles of each finger. “I love you Bulma.” He replied sweetly, my heart felt-full at that moment; tonight was going perfectly. 

Yamcha and I chatted light-heartedly until our waiter arrived with our food. We both enjoyed our separate entrees, Yamcha boasted about his duck breast and I rolled my eyes at his boyish manners. I savored my steak and sauteed brussel sprouts; using the graceful manners I had been taught since childhood.

Yamcha tried to wipe his now stained white shirt. He smiled at me clumsily and I giggled at his desperate but futile attempt to save the expense material. When we finished up our entrees Yamcha asked me if I wanted dessert, to which I replied of course. We bantered back and forth with light conversation as we waited for our sweets; I noticed that Yamcha was acting a little anxious, he was tapping his foot and his hands were fumbling in his lap. 

I ignored his actions and continued ranting about the ridiculous antics of some of the interns in the lab. When the desserts arrived Yamcha smiled at me nervously, we ate our confectioneries in a comfortable silence; his eyes barely meeting my own as I carefully surveyed his body language. He was truly acting too fidgety, he finished his dessert at a rapid pace. He wiped his face with his napkin before his demeanor completely changed. He was beaming a confident smile at me, naturally I smiled back at him. Although I was still curious as to why his mood was shifting so suddenly this evening. 

He cleared his throat and stood from his chair. He took a few calculated steps around the rounded table, only to get down on his left knee in-front of me. I practically choked on my profiterole, my heart sank as I realized what he was doing. I looked at him anxiously as he pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket displaying it to me, my heart dropped to my stomach. 

“Bulma when I first met you in that desert so many years ago I was a frightened boy, I couldn’t even talk to you. Now that I am a man I still can’t explain how amazing these past fifteen years have been; all I can say is that they have been the best years of my life. I know we have had our ups and downs but babe..” he opened the box displaying a beautiful rose gold band with a huge marquise cut diamond. I swallowed the pastry, my mouth suddenly feeling too dry. “You make me the happiest man on earth. Will you marry me?” He asked hopefully. 

He stared at me with his puppy dog eyes and that goofy smile I fell in love with but this wasn’t what I was expecting, “Yamcha I…”

~

I slammed the front door of the capsule corp compound, stomping my way through the dark halls. When I was finally in my room I slammed my door as well. With my back against the hard wooden surface I slid down to the ground. My knees drawing towards my chest as my hands covered my face. I wiped away my tears of frustration, I couldn’t get Yamcha’s defeated face out of my head; after saying no to his proposal he quickly got embarrassed. 

I tried to reason with the man I loved, desperately explaining that I simply was not ready for marriage. 

I expressed to him that I didn’t want to start a family when there was such a threat from the androids. He looked broken through my whole explanation, his sad eyes tearing into mine as I lightly squeezed his hand. 

We left the restaurant within minutes of my deflection. 

He opted to fly himself home after giving me a gentle hug and chaste kiss. I flew my jet home in silence, barely holding back my sobs. I allowed my hands to fall to my sides after wiping away the few stray tears. My forehead dropped gently to rest against my knees. This was not how I imagined my night ending.   

~

After the restaurant fiasco, I waited until later the next day to shoot Yamcha a text. I openly apologized to him again while also reiterating to him I was still very happy with our relationship. 

 

We both agreed to put it behind us, our relationship would be fine. 

 

We ended the conversation on a lighter note, Halloween was quickly approaching; only a couple weeks away. I asked Yamcha to come over tomorrow so that we could discuss our costumes. He explained that he had base-ball practice tomorrow and that we should reschedule. We settled on Saturday. Satisfied with the light conversation I eagerly awaited Yamcha’s visit; several costume ideas running through my mind. 

 

~

 

Yamcha arrived early in the afternoon for our coffee date, Puar in tow. We sat outside on my balcony, coffee in hand and pastries on the table as we discussed our different ideas. His first idea was so cheesy, sexy cop and prisoner; I quickly rejected the offer. 

 

Thankfully Puar agreed with my opinion that such costumes were too immature for people our age. I offered matching plague doctor costumes, Yamcha scoffed saying it was so cliche while Puar thought it was a bit morbid.

 

As we racked our brains for different ideas Yamcha’s face lit up with a smile, “I can be Indiana Jones and you can be Marion Ravenwood!” He burst excitedly. I took a careful sip of my coffee, debating the idea, she was a strong female lead, but there really wasn’t much flare to her costume. 

 

“Yeah that’s a great idea Yamcha! I can be the monkey from the Lost Ark!” Puar pitched in full-heartedly.

 

I glanced between the two as I posed my next response, “How about you be Indiana Jones and the monkey while I dress as Lara Croft.” I offered back.

 

They were both obviously perplexed by my offer. They tossed each other questioning glances before Yamcha carefully challenged me.

 

“But they’re from completely different franchises babe.” He countered back in confusion, while Puar decided to take a back seat in the discussion.

 

I took another confident sip of my coffee, “They may be from different franchises but they are both amazing treasure hunters.” I defended my idea.

 

He rubbed the back of his head while he thought it over, “Alright that doesn’t sound half bad.” He lazily agreed.

 

I smiled back at him, taking another confident sip of my coffee before setting it down on the table.

 

As I reached over to grab a cherry turnover Yamcha continued, “The boy’s will think our costumes are awesome! I can’t wait for you to meet the team!” He announced cheerfully.

 

“Yeah the guys are so cool you’ll think they’re super funny!” Puar chimed in. 

 

I gave them both a disorganized stare, halting myself from taking a bite of my turnover, “You invited your base-ball team to the company party?” I asked for confirmation. 

 

It didn’t upset me, normally he never invited his buddies over. Yamcha looked at me confused. He carefully raised an eyebrow before he replied.

 

“No, I thought we were going to my team-mates’ party.” He hinted while he rubbed the back of his head. I rolled my eyes while Puar hid behind his shoulder. 

 

“Unless it’s a different day than the companies then yeah I’ll go; but you know how much effort my parents put into these bashes.” I explained evenly, trying not to make a fuss over the ordeal.

 

He nodded his head and sighed dejectedly. 

 

“It’s the same day as your companies’ party, I guess that means no baseball friends.” He complained lightly.

 

I wearily smile at him, “You can always invite them to this party, I promise next year I’ll go to what-ever party you want me to.” I promised wholeheartedly. 

 

Puar noted the lightening of the mood and moved from behind Yamcha's shoulder. They both smiled gleefully at me while Yamcha reached out for his own turn over. He tossed me a wink. “You’re right babe, I can always invite them! Watch out, I will hold you to that promise.” He chuckled before he took a messy bite of the pastry. Puar and I laughed with him before we both bit into our own turn-overs. Our messy anniversary was obviously forgotten as we enjoyed each other's company, just like we always have. 

 

~

 

The week leading up to Halloween I managed my time wisely. There was a measly amount of company work to be done but just enough to require my full attention most of the beginning of the week. 

 

Vegeta had only destroyed two training bots in that time frame, thankfully with my fathers help they were childs play to fix. With all my work complete I had taken the day off and I invited Yamcha and Puar out to do some last minute Halloween shopping. We met at the mall as soon as it opened, we browsed through several different stores. Puar had her costume together while Yamcha still needed his jacket, hat and whip. The essential parts of his costume were proving almost impossible to find. Puar and I joke that there must be a lot of treasure hunters this year. 

 

We had finally found a store with a decent selection of leather jackets, Yamcha was taking his time trying most of them on. He finally settled on a chestnut brown jacket. While he browsed their hat selection Puar and I chatted lightly. Yamcha came back to us complaining that he couldn’t find anything to match the aesthetic he was going for so we purchased the jacket and continued our search elsewhere. 

 

After browsing through three more stores, Puar and I were growing tired of watching him try on almost every single hat; he finally settled on an explorer's fedora in mahogany brown, darker than his jacket but not by much. While we walked to the next store Puar and I teased him lightly for being so finicky. Surprisingly the whip was the easiest thing to choose and after securing the last piece of his costume we walked to the register. While we waited in line Puar and I chatted lightly.

 

Yamcha began shuffling his feet, glancing at his watch anxiously. “Do you need anything while we are here?” He interrupted Puar and I conversation with his light question. As we moved forward slightly, I shook my head back and forth as a non-verbal no.

 

“My costume is mostly accounted for, I just need to stop by the gun store and get a better holster.” I explained to him, he gave me a light smile before glancing down at his watch once again.

 

“Do we want to stop and get lunch before we head over there?” I asked them as we moved forward once more, we were now the next set of customers in line. 

 

Puars’ smile widened as she enthusiastically shook her head yes but Yamcha shook his head no before explaining himself. 

 

“Actually I have a meeting at two o’clock with the head coach of the West city Jets.” He scratched the back of his head, trying to avoid eye contact. 

 

I smiled at him and ignored Puars’ look of confusion. “That’s awesome, you’ve wanted to play with them since last season!” I replied excitedly.

 

He glanced at me with a weary smile and chuckled lightly, “Yeah, you remembered.” He responded softly.

 

I chuckled lightly at his comment, stepping forward to purchase the last piece of Yamcha’s costume. 

 

~

 

As I drove Yamcha and Puar home I offered Puar to join me for lunch but she politely declined. I didn’t let it bother me too much but when we arrived at their apartment I asked if they wanted me to come upstairs with them. Puar was about to speak before Yamcha quickly brushed me off saying he didn’t want to get too distracted before the meeting. He gave me a light kiss before they climbed out of the car.

 

 He grabbed his bags and they rushed to the entrance of his apartment building. I glanced at the clock, surprised that it was only twelve. When I looked back up both Puar and Yamcha had already made it into the building. I wasn’t that upset by his rejection of my company. I knew how he strived to play for that team since he re-started his baseball career. 

 

I decided to make use of my time and made a quick stop by the gun store. It didn't take long to secure a decent set of black drop leg holsters; they could easily be rigged to look more like Laras’. I climbed in my hover car and began my drive home. I enjoyed the silent ride home, thinking about my most recent invention. 

 

I designed two specialty pistols, instead of bullets they shot small energy blasts designed to stun an individual. I was originally just going to use a B-B gun for my costume but I had been scheming and designing the thing since I returned from Namek. It didn't take me long to decide it might come in handy with a certain alien house-guest. 

 

When I pulled into the driveway I was quick to hop out of my hover jet and re-capsule it. I entered the house with my one bag in hand. Striding towards the kitchen I expected to be greeted by my mother. Instead the kitchen was empty, I set my shopping bag on the counter next to the fridge and turned to walk back out into the living room; starting a fruitless search through the compound for my mom.

 

 After searching the garden I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. I'll just have to show her my holsters later. I decided to walk through the back yard and towards the door in the kitchen. I needed to grab my bag off the counter and get the cosmetic work for my costume started. As I walked past the gravity room I noticed the distinct lack of its whirling hum. When I walked in the door to the kitchen I was greeted by a sweaty, shirtless, and obviously aggravated house guest. “Hey Vegeta, what’s up?” I cheerily asked the saiyan. 

 

 “Where is the blonde woman and that old man!” He demanded. 

 

I rolled my eyes at his gruff attitude, such rude behavior for a prince nonetheless, “You mean my parents, I have no clue where they are, Vetega.” I retorted back to him, side shuffling past him and moving towards my bag on the far counter. 

 

“Useless woman.” He grunted to my turned back, and in that instant my once cheery mood was soured by his blunt comment. 

 

 I swiveled on my heel and glared back at him, “Excuse me!” I seethed through gritted teeth. 

 

His cold eyes locked with my own, “You are useless, woman.” He repeated with his arms crossed to his chest, that stupid cocky smirk plastered on his face

 

My left eye twitched and I felt my face heat with frustration, “This useless woman is responsible for every single one of your training bots, mister!” I fumed, stomping forward to poke at his chest for emphasis as I continued, “I ought to cut the power off for the gravity room just to show your ungrateful ass who is who!”  I screamed in his face, he never flinched; I did see a slight glint in his eye but as soon as it appeared it was gone. 

 

Replaced with his usual cold glare he sneered, “Cut the power and I’ll snap your neck.” 

 

I wanted to physically rip out my own hair; why was he such a jerk. I reared back, “Pul-lease, kill me now! Then I won’t have to deal with your jackass.” I retaliated aggressively before I swiftly turned on my heel stomping over to my bag on the counter.  

 

“Never turn your back on your enemy woman.” His statement rang through the room.

 

I snatched my bag off the counter and turned to glare at the alien house guest. 

 

As I stomped towards him once more I quipped back, “I am not afraid of you Prince Ve-ge-ta.” I clicked my tongue as I pronounced the last syllable his name, ending my statement by rudely sticking my tongue out at him.

 

I held my chin up high as I stormed past him, strutting out of the kitchen. I felt as if I had won that small clash. I was only lightly fuming as I navigated the hall to get to the main staircase.

 

 What was his deal; always refusing to acknowledge my obvious intelligence and the constant death threats. When I arrived at my door I let out a deep sigh; calling me useless, who does he think he is? I turned the knob entering my room taking a deep breath and carefully counting to ten. 

 

A feeble attempt to put my frustration behind me. I need complete composure in order to put the final touches on my costume.

 

I set my bag down on my dresser next to my finished stun guns, I picked one up rubbing a careful hand over the barrel. I wish I had one of these dang stun guns downstairs; that would have shown him. I rolled my eyes, he would have regretted those words for sure. He better not start anything at the Halloween party, stupid saiyan.

 

That's when reality came crashing down on me, he was an alien; that means this would be his first Earth holiday. My stomach dropped, Kami, someone needed to tell him about this party before we had a ton of casualties to explain to the press. 

 

I discarded the pistol safely back on my vanity before rushing out of my room and back down the stairs. I expected to see the saiyan in the kitchen devouring half the pantry but he was not there. I ran outside and to my dismay the distinct hum of the gravity room was still absent; obviously not in use. I cursed under my breath where he could have gone. Aggravated, I ran back up the stairs, only one last place to look. When I reached the top I took a second to catch my breath before casually walking up to his door, once in position I politely knocked. I waited patiently and got no response. 

 

I gritted my teeth in aggravation, nosely putting my ear to the door to make out any noise. I heard a door shut within and I knew he had to be in there. 

 

I pounded on the wooden door once more, “Vegeta are you in there!” I yelled through the thick wood, hoping for verbal confirmation that he was indeed in his room.

 

 When I got no response I couldn’t help but get pissed. I pressed my ear to the door once more barely able to make out the distinct sound of running water, he must be in the shower. 

 

I groaned in frustration stepping to the side to lean my back against the wall; I’ll wait right here.

 

(Vegeta’s POV)

 

I had started my day just like any other day on this Kami-forsaken mudball. I was training; pushing my body through the slight strain of two-hundred and fifty times earth’s gravity to begin. Half way through my morning workout I had cranked the gravity to the max and I barely felt the strain; it was obvious my body had grown accustomed to the tense environment. I had left the gravity room to seek out that old man, except he was not in the lab; I couldn’t sense his energy anywhere on the compound. 

 

It ruined my plan to demand gravity upgrades, it aggravated me even more that the loud mouth, blue-haired woman was also not on the premises. My training was of the utmost importance, did they want to die in three years?

 

 To my dismay the blonde woman was also absent so that meant no mid-morning meal. 

 

I had returned to the gravity room to continue training. After working for another two hours I grew tired of my fluent movements. If I was to achieve super saiyan I needed to push myself to my absolute limit and this was getting too easy. I angrily stomped over to the controls, overriding the stupid safety mechanism to manually crank up the gravity. When the number read out three-hundred and sixty, I threw a couple of punches annoyed that it still wasn’t enough.

 

I cranked it up to three-hundred and eighty, almost satisfied I ticked it up to three-hundred and eighty-five. I heard the distinct sound of circuits shorting; the power fluctuated for a split second before giving out completely. 

 

I cursed under my breath, aggravated with myself; now the gravity room really needed maintenance. To say I waited patiently for the blue-haired woman to return was incorrect; I used my time wisely choosing to meditate until I could feel her distinct ki-signature return. I swifty left the gravity room and walked to the kitchen when I entered the room she was not there. 

 

So I waited, perfecting my plan to simply demand for the gravity room to be fixed at once. When she entered the kitchen I hadn’t expected her way too happy-go-lucky attitude. It irritated me. “Hey Vegeta, what’s up?” she called cheerfully.

 

Naturally I had to ruin it, afterall it was entertaining to rile her up. “Where is the blonde woman and that old man?” I harshly questioned the woman, even though I was well aware of the old man and blonde woman’s absence. 

 

“You mean my parents, I have no clue where they are, Vetega.” she replied coolly, stepping past me towards the fridge. 

 

My response was already calculated, “Useless woman.” I grunted out, knowing she would react heinously to my comment. 

 

Sure enough she turned on her heel, her blue eyes a raging inferno, “Excuse me!” she screeched. I couldn't help the smirk pulling at my lips. 

 

This was too easy. 

 

I crossed my arms across my bare chest, “You are useless, woman.” I repeated. 

 

Her face grew red in frustration much to my amusement, “This useless woman is responsible for every single one of your training bots, mister!” she yelled at the top of her lungs as she moved towards me, thrusting her finger against my chest as she continued her rant, “I ought to cut the power off for the gravity room just to show your ungrateful ass who is who!” she screamed, I had to admit it was an impressive display; but she didn’t intimidate me.

 

 I was not one of these weak earthings. 

 

 “Cut the power and I’ll snap your neck.” I sneered. 

 

She took a small step back, I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, “Pul-lease, kill me now! Then I won’t have to deal with your jackass.” She retorted, before she swiveled on her heel. 

 

I was amazed by her fearlessness, if she wasn’t so weak she’d be a decent warrior, “Never turn your back on your enemy woman.” I called out absent-mindly. My words hung in the air. She snatched a brown bag off the counter before turning around to glare at me. 

 

She stomped over, her blue eyes glazed over in frustration, “I am not afraid of you Prince Ve-ge-ta.” she announced, childishly sticking her tongue out before pushing past me to storm out of the kitchen. 

 

It was rather amusing to get her riled up, although I couldn’t decide who had won that verbal spar; I chalked it up to myself since she got frustrated so quickly. I had been so focused on the small tit-for-tat that I had completely forgotten to mention that the gravity room was out of order. 

 

I glanced around the empty kitchen, I knew the gravity room would be in dis-repair for the rest of the day so I decided to shower before I made an attempt at a meal.

 

As soon as I was behind the closed door to my quarters I kicked off my shoes: turning on the light I walked over to the dresser to pull out some civilian clothes, I knew it would be awhile until the training facility was fully functional. I tossed a long pair of dark gray pants onto the bed along with a plain-gray shirt. I looked over in the corner at the desk, the only thing on its surface was the tattered armor I had been wished back in. I walked over and picked up the breastplate that was practically brittle at this point, a constant reminder of my death on that blasted planet. I will surpass Kakarot even if I had to nearly kill myself in the process. 

 

I set it back down on top of the rest of the folded suit. I turned and as I went to walk to my bathroom I heard a light rapt at my door. It was obvious who it was; I rolled my eyes, that blasted woman.

 

I ignored the knock as I continued to the bathroom, stripping off my shorts and tossing them to the hamper by the commode before shutting the door behind me. Kami forbid if that woman were to storm into my room, I quickly stepped into the tiled shower and turned the knob. I ignored the pounding at the door in favor of focusing on the cold water that streamed out.

 

“Vegeta are you in there!” her screeching voice barely muffled through the walls all thanks to my superior sense of hearing.

 

I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to my shower, maybe she was back for round two; what did she not get to scream at me enough, I chuckled to myself.

 

I took my time and when I emerged from the shower I noted that the woman was obviously still at my door. I would have been aggravated by her persistence but since the gravity room needed repairs it made things easier. I pulled on the civilian clothes that I had laid out for myself stomping over to my door ready to demand the maintenance from the loud-mouth woman. 

 

(Bulma’s POV) 

 

I sat on the floor, my back against that wall waiting for a certain saiyan prince to emerge from his room. My mind conjured up many drastic scenarios of party guests easily pissing off said saiyan.

 

 It wasn't long until I heard heavy footsteps from behind the wall, the prince opened the door and glared down at my seated position. “The gravity room is broken; and while you’re fixing it, make sure the gravity can exceed at least four hundred and fifty times earth's gravity!” he declared. 

 

 I quickly scrambled to my feet nodding my head in agreement; a more pressing matter was at the forefront of my mind. “Yeah, yeah, no problem Vegeta. Real quick can I talk to you about something important.” My words rushed out my mouth and I stared blankly at the alien.

 

He raised a calculated eye brow then scoffed at me, “If it’s not about the gravity room then I don’t want to hear it.” He huffed as he brushed past me, moving down the hall and towards the top of the staircase. 

 

For a second I felt stuck but I was determined not to give up that easily.

 

 I ran up behind him grabbing at his arm, “Wait! VEGETA!” I hastily protested.

 

 As quick as my hand made solid contact with him he pulled it from my grasp.

 

He quickly swiveled on his heel, instantly snatching my wrist in his hand as he growled at me, “Do NOT grab me Woman!” He spat. 

 

I ignored his aggravated demeanor, “Halloween is coming!” I burst out, he dropped my wrist and furrowed his brow once more. 

 

“Hall-o-what?” he questioned harshly.

 

“Halloween, it’s an earth holiday.” I countered.

 

He rolled his eyes once more as he crossed his arms against his chest, “Why does this concern me foolish woman.” He asked matter-of-factly as he took a step back. 

 

I copied his stance and crossed my arms to my chest, “Well you see, my parents are hosting a company party, aka, a lot of people will be here next week.” I explained.

 

He glared at me, tsking his tongue before asking, "Why do I need this information?” he crudely asked. 

 

I rolled my eyes at him once more, “It’s just a heads up so you don’t kill anyone.” I seethed through gritted teeth; did he have to be so arrogant? 

 

He chuckled lightly at my response, giving me his smug smirk, “I can dispose of anyone I want, YOU can’t order me around Woman.” He cockily interjected. 

 

I glared daggers into him, “You will NOT murder my party guest!” I practically growled at the man.

 

He tossed his head back and laughed at my command, when he finished he tossed me a grin before turning around; heading back towards the stairs. “Fix the Gravity Room Woman.” He called out over his shoulder right before he started descending the staircase. 

 

I let out my own frustrated sigh, stomping back over to my room; at least he has been warned, hopefully I could stop him if there should be any warning signs.

 

(Halloween Night)

 

I studied over my appearance once more in the mirror, my blue-hair perfectly hidden by a brunette shoulder length wig, which I had braided. I adjusted my chest harness once more, pushing the wrinkles out of my tight green tank top, deciding to tuck it into my highrise multi-pocket short-shorts. 

 

“Do I look alright babe?” Yamcha asked as he emerged from the bathroom. I looked over his appearance in the mirror as he tried to adjust his leather holster, which he just so happened to borrow from me; since he forgot he needed one. 

 

“You look rugged.” I complimented, he didn’t look half bad dressed as the famed fictional treasure hunter. 

 

“You think so?” he questioned once more, I rolled my eyes at his nativity and turned on my heel to give him a bright smile, casually strutting over to him. 

 

“Yes, you look like the real Indiana Jones, well except for the scar.” I giggled lightly as I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling his face closer so I could lay a kiss to the previously mentioned scar on his cheek. 

 

His arms wrapped around my hips drawing me in close, his lips tickled my ear as he whispered, “You look really hot B.” 

 

I chuckled at his comment pulling back slightly to meet his eye, “I would hope so; I’ve carefully selected each piece of this ensemble.” I jokingly refuted.

 

He laughed, “What? All two pieces of clothing.” He mused as he tugged at my tight green top, pulling it from its tucked position. 

 

I slapped his hand away, “Hey don’t mess it up. You don’t look this good by just slipping clothes on Yamcha. It took me thirty minutes just to get this wig on correctly.” I state matter of factly.

 

He chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes at my comment, he crossed his arms against his chest tossing me a confident smile, “You look perfect babe. Are you ready to go down stairs?” He hastily inquired.

 

I held up my finger before I swiveled on my heel to stroll back towards my vanity. 

 

“Just one more thing.” I beamed over my shoulder.

 

I opened the top drawer of my vanity, I couldn’t help but smile down at my genius. Two sleek black pistols laid in the drawer, except they didn’t have bullets, no, these had energy blasts that had a stunning effect. I glanced up in the mirror to see Yamcha eyeballing the covered walls of my room, I reached down to pick-up one of my un-tested pistols. 

 

“Hey babe, can I test something on you real quick.” I carefully asked as I met his eye in the reflection of the mirror.

 

He gave me his signature goofy smile, “Sure babe whatever…AHHH!” 

 

Before Yamcha could finish his sentence I had whipped around; shooting him square in his chest. It had caused him to fall back against the floor with a yelp. Not even a second later he sat up confused, rubbing over the affected area of his chest; nice doesn’t even burn clothes, just affects the person. 

 

He stared at me shocked, “What the hell babe!” He questioned as he pulled himself to his feet. 

 

I waved my hand dismissively at him as I flicked the safety, “Don’t be such a wimp, it’s just a stun gun.” I assured him. 

 

He continued to rub over the spot on his chest still looking slightly confused, “What do you need that for.” He asked slightly frightened.

 

I rolled my eyes as I carefully placed the pistol in my right thigh holster, “It’s in case my alien house guest decides to start anything.” I explained casually while shrugging my shoulders. I swiveled around on my heel to grab my second pistol. 

 

As I looked it over I could hear Yamcha snicker, “Oh, boy! I hope I get to see that happen!” He chortled back, his fear was obviously forgotten as he practically choked between small fits of laughter. 

 

I smiled as I secured my second pistol to its holster, eventually joining Yamchas’ continued fit of laughter as I imagined shooting at my saiyan house guest. 

 

~

 

By the time we got down stairs the party was in full swing, I waved at a couple of employees I recognized as we worked through the crowd. Yamcha held my hand tightly as he guided me to our small group of friends. I had invited every Z-fighter but not everybody had shown up. We found the guys outside by the apple bobbing station. Puar was dressed as Yamcha’s monkey sidekick, and she eagerly greeted us as we walked up. 

 

Oolong was dressed in striped black and white jumpsuit, obviously a prisoner. Meanwhile, Roshi was dressed in a sharp suit, no clue what his costume was but they were both bursting with laughter.

 

Krillin was dressed as a police officer and he looked very uncomfortable. I was glad we didn't go with Yamcha's original costume plan. I didn't particularly want to match those two. 

 

It seemed the crowd of people extended through the majority of the first floor of the compound. The backyard was just as crowded; except for the area around the gravity room. It had been taped off with a huge sign posted.

 

‘KEEP OUT EXPERIMENTATION UNDERWAY’. 

 

Most of the employees were well aware of our house guest with an attitude problem so it seemed most of them were avoiding the area like it was the plague. 

 

After exchanging hellos and receiving annoying but predictable cat-calls from Roshi and Oolong the group made its way towards the open bar by the pool. 

 

An hour into the night and the boys were drunk and disorderly, we ended up moving into the house. Puar was the only sober one until my mother had made her rounds a couple of minutes ago. She had offered everyone one of her famous sour frankenstein martinis. The drink matched her and my fathers costumes as they were Frankenstein and his bride. The men cheerfully accepted the offered drinks. Puar and I decided to have one as well. I sipped on the beverage and enjoyed my buzz while the men re-told older stories, still gaining a laugh from me here and there. Puar obviously couldn’t handle much and was hanging onto Yamcha for dear life. 

 

I chuckled lightly before I turned my attention to the long tables close to the walls of the compound. Each one was a different station, one table had a chocolate fountain and a wide variety of fruit; another table was full of different pastries decorated in bright oranges, purples and occasionally black. The next table was nothing but candy, as I browsed over the furthest table noting several finger sandwiches and a couple trays of pigs in a blanket I noticed someone who certainly stuck out of the crowd. 

 

With that distinct spiked flame of hair poking through the crowd,  the man stood with his arms crossed against his chest; the shirtless saiyan was leaned against the wall. I noted how close he was to the end of the table. His nose was turned up in obvious disgust, making me chuckle slightly. 

 

He was definitely aggravated, must not be accustomed to parties I joked to myself. We locked eyes for just a split second before I looked away. I kept the saiyan prince in my peripheral vision as I returned my attention to my group of rowdy friends. They were still exchanging stories, I barely caught the last half of the story but I still laughed along with the guys even though I didn’t understand the joke. 

 

The men continued to talk to each other, collectively finishing their drinks thus maneuvering the group towards the multiple laid out trash cans to discard their used plastic cups. I still had my drink as we collectively walked toward our original position; Yamcha made the off-hand comment that he was starving. 

 

We both looked over to the far table, the spread of food quickly being depleted due to a certain saiyan prince. Yamcha growled in clear frustration, “That jerk is going to eat all the food!” He complained as he pointed out Vegetas’ position at the table. 

 

I simply chuckled at his comment, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure there is plenty more.” I retorted back to him. 

 

He tossed me a confident smile, “I’m going to teach him some party etiquette, he needs to leave enough for everyone else.” He declared while his hand searched his side for his costume whip. He grabbed the unconscious Puar off his shoulder and handed her to Roshi.

 

 I glared at him, “Yamcha, please don’t.” I said bluntly. He tossed me a wink before he started to push through the crowd. I quickly handed my drink to Krillin, “Here hold this, I’ll be right back.” I instructed hurriedly, my other hand quickly reached for one of my pistols.

 

Krillin looked between my drink in his hand and the sleek black pistol in my hand, “Uh-Okay?” he stammered as I pushed through the crowd following close behind my delusionally drunk boyfriend. I mentally patted myself on my back, I knew these guns would come in handy.  

 

(Vegeta’s POV)

 

The woman had warned me about this party; it was effortless to maneuver through the swarm of people and towards the kitchen, it was also packed to the brim with people. 

 

“Oh Vegeta! There you are!” I recognized the screech over the noise of the gathered crowd. 

 

When I turned I expected to be face to face with the blonde woman but her attire was completely abnormal; she was normally neatly put together instead she wore a long off white dress that was torn in several places. Her typical short blonde hair was now in a tall mess of black and white curls. She thrust a cup forward, it was full to the brim with an abnormally green liquid. “Have a drink and relax!” She shouted obscenely loud. 

 

I glared between her painted green face and the peculiarly green liquid, “What is that?” I growled in disgust. 

 

She giggled before she thrust the cup forward, spilling a small amount onto the floor between us, “A margarita silly!” She bubbled annoyingly. 

 

I grunted and turned my nose up to her offer, glaring around the room, “Where is the food woman?” I asked crudely, continuing to ignore the drink she held out to me. 

 

She pointed with her other hand back out the kitchen, “There are tables lined with food out there darling!” She cheerfully yelled.

 

I growled once again in frustration, “All I saw was pastries out there, where is the actual food.” I demanded.

 

She giggled once more before taking a sip of the drink I had declined, “There should be a table out there covered with finger sandwiches and pigs in a blanket; everything else should be sweet treats. This is a Halloween party, silly.” She cheerfully shrieked.

 

I rolled my eyes at her comment, ridiculous, only one table of actual food; I turned to leave the kitchen. I had to maneuver past a couple of people to even get to the door frame, I angrily shoved through the rest of the crowd until I found the one table with substance on it. The table wasn’t crowded at all, and it appeared to have been barely touched. 

 

Only a few patrons were there making small plates for themselves. I moved to the far side of the table, finding a cleared space along the wall to lean against; I surveyed the crowd. I turned my nose in disgust as I watched several people grinding against each other to the loud music that played. The smell of pheromones was thick in the air even though there were what appeared to be children running amuck. This party is stupid. I felt a pair of eyes on me from across the room and I glanced over only to be met with the blue eyes of the woman noting that her unique blue mess of curls was replaced with typical brown hair. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous earth customs and glared down at the measly spread across the table; seriously was this the best they could offer. 

 

I glared around the room once more, noting that the blonde woman wasn’t lying, the other tables were covered in bright colored pastries and bowls of different things they referred to as candy. I did notice the table with a spread of fruit, there was a fountain of brown in the middle; disgusting. 

 

I waited until the stragglers had gathered their meager portions of food before they filtered back into the crowd. When my stomach growled I made my move, pushing myself off the wall and striding towards the table. I grabbed a plate and began stacking it with as much food as it could hold before I returned to the empty space to lean back on the wall. As I devoured my first portion I ignored the bustle of the crowd, my plate was empty in a small amount of time and I returned to the table to stack my plate with my second serving. 

 

~

 

I was stacking my fifth plate when I felt a familiar weak energy spike, it was charging towards my position. I ignored the meager threat focusing on carefully stacking my plate with what little food was left. “Hey! Vegeta!” the voice matched the energy, it was that foolish weakling.

 

 I glanced over my shoulder and took in his appearance. He was dressed like a buffoon, with a leather jacket and a stupid hat, “You look ridiculous.” I criticized bluntly before turning back to my food. I had more important things to do than socialize with that scar-faced idiot. As I moved to grab another set of sandwiches I felt a slight sting to my back as a resounding crack assaulted my ears.

 

I nonchalantly placed my plate on the table and glared over my shoulder at the weakling. He held the offending object in his hand that he had so obviously hit me with. 

 

“Leave some food for the rest of us!” He declared as he repositioned his feet; as if he was about to start an actual fight, with me, the prince of all saiyans.

 

I scoffed at his demand, annoyed by his ridiculous display. I turned back to my task at hand, food was more important to me at the moment. I could beat him to a pulp at any given point in time. Before I could pick up my plate I felt another pitiful thack at my back and what little patience I had diminished. 

 

Within a second I was in the weakling's face. I lifted him off the ground by his throat, making sure my grip was tight but not enough to completely shut off his airway. I raised my other fist, a malicious grin on my face as I was poised and ready to punch the living daylight out of the weakling when I was hit with three curt shots to my back. 

 

It caused me to drop the weakling; all my muscles seized, bringing me to my knees as I tried to catch the breath that was caught in my throat. The weakling was on his knees gasping for his own breath before he was hit with enough force it made him flinch and fall to his back. 

 

I glared over my shoulder only to catch smoldering blue eyes, “Break it up you two!” She declared as she stood her ground, a black weapon held skillfully in her hands. I heard the weakling grunt but I ignored him; obviously the woman had something up her sleeve.  

 

I snarlled and stood up straight, “What the fuck woman!” I glanced at the weapon in her hands, what the hell is that, I mentally questioned as I glared daggers at the offending woman.

 

 As I took a step forward her finger pulled the trigger, I swiftly turned my body, a miniscule blast soared past me and hit the weakling on his shoulder. It thrust him back against the floor once more, a barely audible grunt leaving him again. 

 

I stormed up to the woman snatching up her wrist, disabling her from shooting me again; or so I thought. With her free hand she reached for her thigh producing a similar weapon shooting me square in the chest with another three blasts. 

 

I forced a grunt in response, it was far from the worst pain I’d ever felt. Yet the force knocked the wind out of my chest and seized my muscles, dropping me to my knees once more; my fury was nearly suffocating me. 

 

“Calm down Vegeta, it’s just an energy stun gun.” The woman explained as she dropped her hands, slipping the offending weapons back to their holders strapped to the outside of her thighs. “They aren’t strong enough to do any real damage, at least not to you.” She reassured as she glanced over at the weakling, whose figure was slumped against the floor. She quickly surveyed the several eyes watching the scene unfold. 

 

She waved her hands dismissively “Just a fun Halloween prank people! Go back to the party, nothing to see here!” She roared at the crowd before she pushed past me to kneel next to the man sprawled on the floor. Of course she was examining that weakling; she put her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse I presume. 

 

She seemed satisfied with her findings. She stood to her feet and wiped her hands on her shorts. What a pity, I hoped she had accidentally killed the sorry excuse for a warrior.

 

“I'm sorry Vegeta, he may have had one too many margaritas.” She confessed while she flashed me an apologetic smile, she held out her hand; expecting me to accept her assistance, instead I smacked it away.

 

I easily stood up straight without her assistance. I crossed my arms to my chest and growled at her, “I will kill him next time.” I seethed through gritted teeth. 

 

She tossed her head back and let out a cheery laugh, “I won’t stop you!” She stated, a smile plastered on her slightly blushed face. I glanced over at the table, basically empty at this point. 

 

“Tell you what, how about you go upstairs to your room and I’ll send up a shit ton of that gourmet ramen you like.” She replied casually, as if she hadn’t just shot me multiple times. 

 

I glared at the almost empty table with my forgotten plate, then glared at the enigma of a woman. “Make it quick woman, I am starving.” I said bluntly before shoving through the crowd to swiftly ascend the stairs. I made a mental note to never attend another party, awful things. If it wasn’t for that woman’s genius she would be nothing but a pile of ash.

 

(2 weeks later)

 

(Bulma’s POV)

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” Resentment and rage clouded my thoughts as I roared at the man in front of me. I picked up the nearest tool, hurling it toward a certain scar-faced Z fighter. He quickly dodged, the metal clanged against the wall before it chattered against the concrete floor.

“I’m sorry, babe, she means nothing to me– I swear!” He hastily apologized.

I picked up the half-mangled bot from my desk, hurling it towards him, screaming, “YOU LOWLIFE BASTARD!” I badgered in an incriminating manner. He avoided the clump of metal easily as he slowly stepped toward me.

“Babe, calm down, I can fix this!” He urged desperately. 

As Yamcha’s hands reached for me, anger had already hardened my heart. I took a deep breath, and threw a glare at the man in front of me. 

I took a calculated step back, evading his grasp, my fist balled at my sides “ Don’t touch me. There is nothing to fix, I don’t even understand how you could do this to me again.” My words were icy cold and too calm, he shivered; his eyes shifted through the room, avoiding my scolding glare as he calculated his next response.

“It’s not my fault! You have no clue how much it hurt when you rejected my proposal! Then you shoot me multiple times on Halloween defending that asshole only to argue with me!” He threw his arms in the air; he was very defensive as he continued. “Then you stormed off leaving me with the rest of the guys. You ignored my texts for almost a week. I presumed you were choosing to spend all your time devoted to enhancing that maniac’s training! You never have time for me anymore!” He ended with a huff while he crossed his arms to his puffed-out chest, he was always full of excuses.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to get married Yamcha, how many times do I have to tell you that!” He scoffed at my apology, as if my words meant nothing to him, it infuriated me even more. 

I gruffly continued, “And in case you forgot you’re the one who started that whole scene at the party! I wasn’t ignoring your texts, I was busy with important business pertaining to the company. This has nothing to do with Vegeta!” I hissed harshly and he rolled his eyes. I knew he was ignoring the better half of my statement. 

“You spend more time in this lab than you do with me, your boyfriend! It's obvious you would rather cater to Vegeta’s training needs than my own!”  He growled in response.

I sneered at his deflection, the comment stripping what little sanity I had left.

 “Excuse me! You’re the one prancing around with random women all the while I'm neck deep in projects for my job! Excuse me for using my expertise to help a man who might help save the human race from certain extinction! Do you want to die three years from now?” I resentfully seethed back, crossing my arms against my chest copying his stance as I gritted my teeth. It was an attempt to remain calm. 

We glared at each other for a moment until he dropped his arms; his shoulders relaxed and as he let out a sigh.

“Of course I don't want to die in three years and I won’t hurt you like this again, I promise. I love you.” He insisted as he looked at me with a gleam in his eye, flashing me a smile that used to make my knees weak; now it only makes my stomach turn over in disgust.

 I replied blatantly, “I’m done.”

I turned my back to the man I once loved, and I refused to let the tears in my eyes fall; he wasn’t worth a single drop. I heard his footsteps coming toward me, as he begged, “Please, Bulma, let me fix this.” I could hear his desperation… How pathetic.

“Just leave, Yamcha, we are through!” I lectured while slamming my fist down on my desk. I didn’t turn around to look at him, and despite my best efforts, I could feel a few stray tears stream down my cheeks. He didn’t deserve to see my weakness. 

I heard him sigh, his steps no longer approached instead they faded away. When I heard the definitive click of the door being shut I finally allowed myself to cry. As tears flowed down my cheeks, I bitterly recalled the events that had led us to this point of no return.

 I had gone over to his apartment yesterday; I had been working myself half to death and while eating my light lunch he had crossed my mind. I had read through the multitude of messages he had left me. I instantly felt bad for not making time for him especially after how we ended Halloween night with that pitiful argument about my alien house guest. Even though I still felt justified in my stance I wanted to be the bigger person and apologize to him, so naturally I decided to go and visit him.

The incessant ache in my heart from recalling the events of the past two days felt like falling into a pit of cactus. I had sent a message to Yamaha earlier in the morning and when I hadn’t received a text by late afternoon I took things into my own hands. I chose to drive my favorite blue jet, most of the drive I was enthralled by the light rain; the sun would peak through the clouds bringing light to the bleak November day. I had stopped to appreciate the giant oak tree at the front of his apartment building and I gave one last glance to my phone; my message still left unanswered. 

I wasn’t bothered by the fact he had yet to respond since I had failed to respond to him for such an extended period of time. The walk up the three flights of stairs had been uneventful. Naturally I had let myself into his place with my spare key, which had never been an issue before. 

As I remembered the disarray of his living room, I felt another puncture in my heart. 

I mentally retraced my steps through his apartment. Puar curled up asleep on the couch while clothes had been discarded all over the living room floor leading toward Yamchas’ room. I allowed myself to sob as the image of him in bed with some blonde bimbo, both naked and curled to each other, lay vivid in the foreground of my mind like poison. 

At first my heart stung; it felt like my chest was carpeted in prickly needles, enclosed in the iron maiden of betrayal. As the night faded to day, I had dragged myself to my lab, deciding to bury myself in work: spontaneously, Yamcha decided to barge in, trying to explain himself. 

I was feeling particularly numb before but after dealing with the z-fighter it felt like I was ripping the needles out, leaving a plethora of tiny, bleeding holes in my chest. Through my sobs, I could barely breathe. I harshly wiped the tears away; he was not worth this. 

I slammed my fist on the desk in frustration as I stared at the disarray of materials through blurry eyes. It didn’t take long to remind myself I was working on training bots. I knew I had to keep myself occupied, I finally got what I wanted; no more annoying men to distract my work. 

I spun around, my eyes scanning the lab for the mangled bot that was previously used as my weapon of choice. I stomped over to the damaged object, grabbing it up in my arms. I stomped back over to my work bench and dropped it down on the solid surface. At least this wasn’t one of the newer ones I had just designed, just an old model. 

I turned my attention over to the scattered blueprints, sorting through them until I located the one I sought. I was not going to spend my time crying over some man who obviously didn’t know who I am- I'm Bulma fucking Breifs, I don’t need him! I have all my inventions, a whole company, and an attainable goal to not die in two and a half years.

(Vegeta’s POV)

I felt the womans’ ki spike a tremendous amount, and I couldn’t help my intrigue. Never had it reached such a level; how curious. After what she pulled at that blasted party I was keen to honing in on her energy, she wouldn’t get another opportunity to sneak up on me again. I also noticed the weakling’s energy fading farther and farther away. They had probably had another one of their fights. I didn’t let it disrupt my training; I kept pushing through. The newer bots the woman had been producing were doing a sufficient job. 

The strain in my muscles wore on as I trudged through four-hundred and twenty times earth’s gravity. Throwing my body around, I deflected the several ki blasts that soared past me. Soon enough, I will be accustomed to this gravity– I need it to go higher. If Kakarot ascended training in extreme gravity so will I. Throwing my arm up, I deflected another blast.

~

After six more hours of grueling training, I finally dragged myself out of the gravity room. My stomach was demanding substance and I could tell the blonde woman was in the kitchen. She annoys me the most, but she provides adequate food. I strode into the kitchen and took a seat at the table, arms crossed. 

I announce my presence with my casual command, “I demand food, woman!”

She only giggled in response and brought over a bowl filled with rice, setting it down in front of me, “Here you go, darling, a little snack; dinner is almost done.” She chirped.

I grunted in response, grabbing the spoon. I started eating, ignoring the overly joyful woman as she walked back over to the stove to continue her task. 

I could feel the blue-haired woman approaching the kitchen before I heard her footsteps. Perfect– I can tell her the gravity room requires a higher gravity limit. As the woman walked in, I could instantly smell the distinct saltiness of tears… that was unlike her, as strong-willed and self-motivated as she seemed to be. I continued to eat the rice in front of me, watching the woman out of the corner of my eye. 

She walked toward the pantry and came back with a dark bottle. She strode over and plopped down at the other end of the table. Despite the smell of tears, I couldn’t see any evidence supporting the matter. She seemed neatly put-together as always, albeit a little distracted.

The woman popped the top of the bottle with some weird tool before she carelessly tossed the cork to the side. She put the enormous bottle to her lips and she took a considerable sized gulp of the liquid substance. I raised an eyebrow; I had never witnessed her do such a thing. 

(Bulma’s POV)

I had finally finished fixing the destroyed droids, and I could think of nothing better than a nice bottle of zinfandel red wine. I casually strode through the house, making my way toward the kitchen. My mom was fixing dinner like usual, and I made my way to the pantry to grab my desired bottle. As I walked out, I realized Vegeta was sitting at the table with a bowl in front of him; I hadn’t noticed him earlier. I grabbed the corkscrew off the counter and walked over to the table. I plopped down in the chair, I ignored the saiyans’ eyes on me as I fidgeted to get the cork out of the bottle. Once successful, I took a gracious gulp. Letting out a sigh of satisfaction, I leaned back in the chair, throwing my sore feet up on the table. 

I noticed Vegeta staring at me again, and I took another gulp, “What are you looking at?” I challenged  the saiyan harshly. I tried to sound annoyed by his gaze but it did not bother me as much. His eyes narrowed into a glare before he looked back down at his food. I let out another small sigh before taking another swig from the bottle. 

“I finished both the mangled bots you gave me earlier, now they're exactly like the other two; except these two can still shoot their own lasers.” I informed him, hoping it would lead somewhere. Vegeta looked up from his food and nodded at me… so much for a conversation. I took another drink from the bottle and closed my eyes, trying to relax. 

“Bulma, get your shoes off of the table, that is not polite.” My mother chidded.

I groaned in annoyance at my mother.

“I’m just trying to relax, mom.” I whined back as I watched her carefully bring plate after plate to the table.

“Why don’t you and Yamcha go out on a date? That normally helps you relax.” She hinted playfully.

I couldn’t help but scoff at my mother’s statement. At the mention of his name, anger thrummed through my veins.

I took another swig of my bottle. “Fuck that asshole, I am never ever ever, going out with him again!” I venomously state.

I caught my mother’s confused expression, “What happened, honey? I thought you guys were doing good?” She questioned carefully.

I chuckled at my mom’s retort, taking another swig from the bottle before replying, “If doing good qualifies as that bastard cheating on me again, then yeah, we’re doing GREAT!” I responded sarcastically.

I heard a plate shatter on the ground. I glanced down at the mess before I looked up at my mom; she was staring at me, her eyes wide open.

“HE DID WHAT?!” She fumed. I watched her face grow red in what I could only assume was anger. 

“That boy is foolish! My daughter deserves so much better!” My mom quipped as she skillfully walked around the mess she made and towards me. She closed in and gave me a big bear hug, “Don’t worry, honey, mommy is right here!” She crooned while mushing me against her bosom as if I was a child. 

I tried to push her away, but it was useless when I was also trying not to spill my wine. She eventually let me go, “He is not invited to Thanksgiving this year, that's for sure!” My mother angrily declared, I scoffed at my mother’s response, she was always thinking ahead. 

She then scrambled over to the panel on the wall to call a cleaning bot. She started bringing over more plates of food. When she finished bringing the assortment she sat down right next to me, I ignored her pained look in turn for another swig of my wine. I sat the bottle down and started piling food onto my plate. 

I looked up at the man sitting opposite of me; I would have forgotten he was here if I couldn’t practically feel his eyes burning holes into me once again. “What is your problem, Vegeta?” I asked, feigning annoyance.

He met my eye, “The gravity room needs to be able to sustain over five hundred times earth's gravity, my training is getting too easy.” He answered nonchalantly.

I scoffed at the man’s reply; nothing was ever up to standard for him. “Yeah yeah, I’ll get to it when I can.” I mumbled back. 

He stopped eating and shot me a calculated glare, “With the weakling out of the way, you should be able to immediately focus all your attention on the gravity room.” He responded harshly.

My eyes bore into the man as I took a vicious bite of the chicken in front of me. I chased it with another sip from my bottle of wine. “I am not your slave, I will get to it when I want to.” I goaded back. 

Vegeta’s brows snapped together as he shot back at me, “You’ll get to it as soon as possible.” He sneered before returning his attention to his food.

I rolled my eyes at the saiyan. Like I was gonna listen to him– ha. I continued eating my dinner and drinking my wine, and… I totally was not already planning the upgrades for the gravity room simply because Vegeta demanded it. It was an opportunity to throw myself into work and completely push Yamcha out of my head.