Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Fated ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, and I certainly do not make any money from the silly little fics I write about Toriyama's characters.

A/N: Honestly, I have no idea what this is other than something set during those infamous three years when the Z-Fighters were preparing for the androids. While stuck on Vodka, I was looking through some random tidbits I had written in the past, and I just started flowing on this. I promise nothing as far as updates since I have no plot and certainly no outline. But, you never know. I will probably write on this as the mood strikes me. Who knows, maybe if it is well-received, I will be motivated to at least develop a real plot. Lol.

Fated

Chapter 1

Bulma nervously chewed her pink lower lip as she waiting impatiently for the minus or plus to appear on the stick in her hand. How had this happened? She and Yamcha had only had one fight lasting a couple of days. Could that really have been enough for her to have done something so stupid? Then again, stupid did not even begin to describe her actions. And now, she was waiting to find what possible life changing repercussions her choice would have on not only her but Yamcha's life as well.

After glancing at the clock again, Bulma took a deep breath and looked down at the narrow piece of plastic she held in her shaking hand. After staring at it for a moment, she exhaled and closed her eyes tightly.

Reopening her eyes, Bulma tossed the stick into the bathroom trash and returned to her room.

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“It's about time you finished getting ready,” Yamcha complained good-naturedly as Bulma finally joined him in the entrance to Capsule Corps.

Shooting Yamcha a nasty look, Bulma retorted, “Looking this good is an exact science that takes time to perfect. We can't all walk around looking like something the cat dragged in like you usually do.”

“Ouch! That was harsh!” Yamcha winced.

Bulma smirked in response as she climbed into Yamcha's car waiting outside at the curb. “So, are we still on for our date tonight? Or have you made plans with one of your other girlfriends instead?”

Wincing again, Yamcha started the car. “Of course we're still on. And I don't have any other girlfriends. I told you I was seeing Aimee only while you and I were broken up for those few days. You know I can't stand to be alone. Besides, at least I was honest enough to tell you.”

“Yeah, you were honest about something for a change,” Bulma frowned, un-characteristically not meeting her boyfriend's eyes with her direct challenge.

“Look, can we not fight about this again?” Yamcha sighed tiredly as he steered his car toward their college. Sometimes it still took him by surprise when he thought about how not only did he now have a stable home, but Yamcha - the former Desert Bandit - was in school. Even more amazingly, that school was college, which he attended during the off season from his baseball career with the Taitans to keep himself busy during the morning hours before he began his daily training for the upcoming confrontation with the androids the strange future boy had described. It never failed to amaze Yamcha how a meeting with a young boy with a monkey's tail had changed his life so drastically.

“Who says we're fighting?” Bulma sniped back.

Forcing a slight smile, Yamcha nodded. “I'm glad we agree that we're not fighting.”

“Whatever,” Bulma sighed, watching the buildings pass by outside her window. “Why am I attacking him like this?” she asked herself. “I mean, it's not like I have any room to talk about affairs while we were fighting. I guess eventually, I'm going to have to tell him. I just don't know how. I just-…don't know how….”

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After throwing her purse and backpack onto her bed, Bulma moved to her computer to check her e-mail before getting ready for her prescheduled date with Yamcha. As she sat in her black, leather computer chair, her cell phone rang from the front pocket of her purse. Bulma spun her chair around, pulled the phone from its location and answered cheerfully, “Hello?”

Bulma listened for a moment before getting out of her chair and moving around her room as she spoke on her phone. “Yeah! I know! Wasn't it gross?! Men are so disgusting! I maintain we should have separate SUBS!”

The growling of the girl's stomach made her pause while pacing her room and head toward the kitchen. “Trust me, I know exactly how lucky I am. In fact, he's going to be taking me to the game in about an hour. I just hope it's better than last week's. Talk about bombing! Is it too much to ask that we win at least one football game this season?”

Without realizing her actions, Bulma found herself at the entrance to the gravity room her father had helped her build for Vegeta - who coincidently, was currently sparring imaginary opponents.

 

“I did hear that test was going to be a killer.”

The Saiyan prince paused momentarily to turn the up the gravity's level before continuing in his exercises, sweat dripping from his muscular form, raining to the floor of the room.

“If you're that worried, maybe you should get a tutor,” Bulma suggested, her eyes never leaving the prince's chiseled features as her friend continued to chatter in her ear. “Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later.” She disconnected the call she had been giving minimal attention since discovering Vegeta.

How had things changed so much in so little time? It seemed like yesterday she, along with Master Roshi and Krillin, had collected the dragon balls so they could bring Goku back to life to save the planet from the prince's rage. That fight had left its mark on the young woman, taking her newly re-discovered love from her life, Yamcha, which had led to another entire adventure on Namek where she had spent a large portion of her time hiding in fear of Frieza, his minions and the evil Prince Vegeta.

Yet, now not only was Vegeta something of an ally, but he was living in her home. The prince trained tirelessly in a gravity room she had gone through the trouble to create for him. And somewhere along the way, her fear had been replaced by something else, something that had she never feared Vegeta, most likely never would have come into existence.

Love? No, that was definitely not the word for her feelings. Bulma loved Yamcha, she was sure of that now. After years of breaking up then mending their relationship, Bulma had never felt closer to the love of her life. Yet, if it was not love, what had driven her to Vegeta during her and Yamcha's most recent tiff?

Danger? The prince certainly was dangerous - and unpredictable. Maybe that was the key. After so many years with Yamcha, Bulma had learned to read him like her favorite novel. She knew his every move even before he seemed to grasp at it. Yamcha was a good man - a safe man. He was even going to college during the off season for her sake! What more could a woman ask for than to be adored by a famous, gorgeous baseball player and expert martial artist who would unquestionably lay down his life for her, as he had proved in the past?

Yet, at the first opportunity, Bulma had found herself with a new lover.

“Are you going to stare all day or move so I can get food?” Vegeta growled from the now open door to the chamber. Unbeknownst to Bulma, the prince had finished his training for the time being, toweled off and was standing in the open doorway, scowling at the young woman standing between he and sustenance.

Bulma blinked for a moment before moving aside to allow the Saiyan passage. “Fine! Go eat all the food, free-loader!” How dare he catch her staring and thinking about him! It was bad enough she was thinking about him, but to be interrupted by him was too much. It felt too much like he was reading her thoughts for comfort. Besides, who knew? Maybe Saiyans did have a trick for reading minds. If they did, it was certain the prince would never share something that would give him such a great tactical advantage in a fight. Bulma fumed even more, knowing she was simply being paranoid.

Vegeta simply grunted as he passed her. “I don't see you working,” he casually tossed over his shoulder as he made his way toward the kitchen.

“I'm in graduate school!” Bulma retorted, seething angrily. Who did he think he was to call her out like that? How could she possibly be attracted to such an arrogant, uncouth man like Vegeta? He made her so-...so, angry!

Hunger forgotten, the blue-haired genius stormed back to her room and changed into a pair of white shorts and lavender tank top for her date. Praise Dende, she was dating Yamcha instead of the infuriating, free-loading, training-obsessed prince! Yes, Yamcha was definitely the man for her!

….

Wasn't he?

A/N: Well, what did you think? Should I even attempt to make a plot for this? Lol. I love the random things that get stuck in my head. Anyway, please give me some feedback, good or bad. Peace and Out!