Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Flux ❯ Chapter 1

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Note: I thought this would just be a simple oneshot, but it didn't feel right to cram everything in all at once. Seemed better to go with the flow rather than fight against it. I'm somewhat ashamed to say that this is a typical V/B get-together but I couldn't help myself...

I'm not a fan of the typical three-year gap setting but it seems this is where my story falls. I don't like sticking to timelines, so if it seems as though I'm taking liberties then I probably am. For the record, I can't stand Bulma's perm so just imagine she has long hair. Whether it's straight or wavy I leave up to you.

Things will get lemony in later chapters (or I assume they will; I haven't thought that far ahead yet), and there might be a bit of fluff.

All comments are welcome. A review only takes a couple of minutes so please be courteous and write one.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragonball/Z/GT or its characters and I make no money from the submission of this fanfiction. Full rights are owed to Akira Toriyama and all other respective copyright owners.



~*~
Flux
~*~

The phone was slammed hard into its cradle, the crack of the plastic relieving none of the upsurge of panic that rushed through Bulma's body. Her skin prickled with feverish adrenaline as her heart skipped numerous beats under the pressure of her newfound anxiety. Such a high level of stress was a rarity for Bulma, but when it took hold of her its grip was relentlessly unforgiving and its power numbed her capacity to reason. Her frenzied senses were unintelligible, her mind a whirlwind of dread and disquietude thrown into simultaneous suspended animation and overdrive, unable to decipher the language of her own thoughts.

Months of dilligent preparation now seemed to be crumbling right before her. Everything had been organised weeks in advance and confirmed time and time again through phone calls and emails. No detail was spared any of Bulma's attention; she had consumed herself with her plans and thought of nothing else. Her life had been transformed into a world of checklists, date planners, schedules and calendars all in tense anticipation of one night. There had been no slip-ups or setbacks until this very moment, and with only a couple of hours to go before Bulma was due to present a dense research paper at a prestigious science symposium, few would disagree that the timing could have been no worse.

Her fingers tangled themselves in her cerulean tresses, her eyes shut tight as she attempted to suppress a frustrated scream. Underlying her fury was desperation; it clutched at her throat and stung her tear ducts, but she forced herself not to cry as not to ruin her fresh make-up.

"Why now of all times?? Idiot Yamcha!" Bulma shrieked, tugging at her hair as she paced around the kitchen.

At that moment, Vegeta entered the compound from the garden, clad in his training gear, not expecting to see such a spectacle, and stood with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised high. Perhaps this was one of those 'episodes' he'd heard so much about; 'women's troubles' or some such thing.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He snorted as he leaned against the door. Vegeta was well accustomed to Bulma's peculiar behaviour and erratic outbursts but never understood their purpose and deduced that no benefit ever came of them. She was, after all, just an irrational, temperamental, insipid human female who spent far too much time wasting her energy on unconstructive pursuits. He pitied the way she succumbed to emotion and allowed herself to be swept away by mindless tides of melodrama.

"Yamcha's cancelled on me! He knew this was important to me, and promised he'd escort me to the symposium but he's fucking cancelled!"

Vegeta sneered and rolled his eyes. "That's hardly something to get hysterical over, baka."

Bulma's eyes snapped open and her piercing gaze stared daggers at the contemptuous Saiyan prince. "He was also supposed to be introducing me at the symposium before I read my paper! We'd practised it over and over again, and finally got it perfect but now he's called to say he can't come! It most definitely is something to get hysterical over; how stupid am I going to look walking on stage to present my research without a proper introduction??"

Vegeta blinked at the overwrought genius and guffawed. She didn't honestly expect an imbecile such as Yamcha to deliver a speech on science and be taken seriously, did she? He doubted whether he even knew how to read!

"Don't you dare laugh at me, you freeloading parasite! You don't have any idea how important this symposium is!"

"Precisely, and I do not care either. Your trivial predicaments are of no concern to me." Vegeta walked to the refridgerator, his expression impassive and calm, and browsed its contents before retrieving a bottle of water. Bulma continued to glare at him as he drank his beverage in one.

"No need to stare, woman. It's not my problem your spineless boyfriend has left you in the shit."

Bulma growled and felt her heart pummelling her chest, her fingers tingling from the electricity of the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"I have just over two hours to find a replacement who can memorise and deliver a speech flawlessly. If it isn't obvious I'm dangerously close to losing my patience!"

"Give it a rest, woman. Serves you right for entrusting that blockhead with your priorities! I can't believe it took him that long to learn an introductory speech," Scoffed Vegeta, his mouth curled at the corners in a wicked smirk. "Had you any sense you would have asked your father."

"Oh and how pathetic would that look? Bulma Briefs escorted to the International Society of Quantum Mechanics and Thermodynamics symposium with her dad. That's like going to prom with your older brother because you can't find a date!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes once more, quickly growing bored of the woman's complaining. "Forgive me for not giving a shit, but I have better things to do than sit here listening to this idiocy." Before Vegeta had the chance to leave the kitchen, Bulma grabbed the prince by the arm and was met by a look of offense and confusion.

"Look, it's not often I'm reduced to begging for help, but I can't stress how important this is. There's no way I can be escorted by my father, though I will ask him to give my introduction, so will you please come with me? It's just for a couple of-"

Vegeta snatched his arm back forcibly and snarled at Bulma. "A couple of hours, a couple of minutes, I don't care if it's just for a couple of seconds; there is absolutely no way in hell I will attend that fiasco and be paraded like a piece of meat to make you feel better about yourself!"

Bulma's eyes grew wide at Vegeta's accusatory tone. "Excuse me? I don't want you as arm candy, you egotistical ape!"

"Well that should suit us both considering I have absolutely no desire to be seen with you either. If you're lucky I'm sure you can bribe that pygmy simpleton Krillin to go, but if he has any sense he'll decline too!" Mocked Vegeta as he made his way upstairs to change out of his sweaty training gear.

Bulma stood rooted to her spot in the kitchen as she watched Vegeta's figure disappear to the upper floor of the compound, her eyes unblinking, her fists clenched into such tight balls the skin on the back of her hands felt as though it might split, her stomach churning so intensely it quickly became nauseating. Such a simple act of co-operation from Vegeta would have quelled so much of her anxiety and extinguished her panicked rage, but thanks to his insolence her temper had worsened to such a degree she was sure her mind was close to meltdown.

There was no way she would resort to begging again. Sincerity was always wasted on Vegeta and never yielded good results; it would be futile to even attempt to coax Vegeta into co-operating by the batting of eyelashes. It was time to rattle the cages. Bulma rampaged out of the kitchen, grabbing a plastic-handle carving knife from a drawer, and into the garden where the Gravity Room stood. She knew that what she was about to do would bear unpleasant consequences but she no longer cared; she needed to release her anger and prescribe a dose of bad medicine to the cocky prince. She entered the chamber and stormed over to the central control unit, examining it briefly before throwing open a metal panel to expose numerous wires, LEDs, trip switches and brightly coloured buttons. With the tip of the carving knife she quickly unscrewed the corners of a thin plastic fascia that protected the circuit board. After removing the fascia, Bulma battered the circuit board with the thick, blunt end of the knife, creating dents so deep she knew most of the control unit would have to be dismantled in order to fit and reconfigure a new one. But, in that instance of unsuppressed vexation, she simply didn't care at all about the repercussions of her actions. A menacing grin spread across her face as she listened to the faint crackle of the arking current whilst she continued to ram the butt of the knife into the board.

Upstairs, however, Vegeta remained oblivious to Bulma's enraged vandalism until he stepped out of the shower. As he dried off and dressed himself in a clean dark blue t-shirt and black pants, he became aware of the sound clunking and banging from a distance. He wondered if it was the sound of building work taking place further down the road, but as he treaded softly down the stairs his frown deepend as his thoughts turned to the Gravity Room. His suspicions were confirmed when he walked into the garden and the sound grew louder, along with the muffled echo of a woman's shrill cursing.

"Odious bastard! This will teach you to laugh at me, you fucking-"

"WOMAN!"

The carving knife fell from Bulma's hands at the sound of Vegeta's roaring voice. She knew there was no way her outburst would have gone unnoticed for too long but no amount of frenzied bravado or false courage could completely steady her nerves during a confrontation with the prince. Bulma didn't truly fear Vegeta even though she was fully aware of what he was capable of and how brutal his past had been; maybe it was the way he took himself so seriously that made it virtually impossible for Bulma to feel frightened. She had a well deserved reputation for standing up to anyone, no matter how dangerous, and knocking them down a few pegs with her clever quips and savage temper. But, for some abstruse reason, something caused her heart to beat just a little faster and feel a bit more on edge during an argument with Vegeta; every time they clashed and bumped heads a vice tightened itself around her stomach. Her insides felt bottomless and hollow, her head dizzy and light. There existed an unusual tension between them that both catalysed her temper and filled her with giddiness, though she couldn't fully understand why.

"How'd you like my new approach to maintenance? My tools are somewhat unorthodox but I'm sure you'll agree it's definitely effective!"

Vegeta had snuck into the chamber to catch Bulma in her act of destruction. The corner of his eye twitched as his gaze roamed across the sight of the sparking wreckage. "What right is it of yours to sabotage my training in this way!? You must have a fucking death wish because I guarantee this will not go unpunished!"

"Your head must be full of shrapnel if you're so stupid to think that I don't have the right to sabotage your training, considering this isn't your Gravity Room and I'm not obliged in any way to let you use it!"

"Fucking ungrateful baka! You and the rest of your pitiful race are at my fucking mercy and you think you can push your luck without any ramifications! Unless you want to meet your death at my hand I suggest you repair this immediately and without question!"

The tension within Bulma heightened as it continued to constrict; her ears burned at Vegeta's orders and the pounding of her heart brought her nausea flooding back to her.

"You are not in any position to snap your fingers at me, you prick! You want this heap of shit fixing? Then come to the fucking symposium with me!"

"You're bargaining with me? This is not negotiable, woman!"

Bulma steadied herself and took several deep breaths before continuing. "Come with me or hit the road. Two hours is all I want from you, so either shut the fuck up and come with me or get your shit and fuck off somewhere else."

"Excu-"

"Come with me or fuck - off - somewhere - else. I guarantee nobody else on this godforsaken planet will pamper a spoiled brat like you!"

Vegeta walked right up to Bulma and stood barely centimetres away from her face as he took her roughly by arms and growled at her. "Do not test me, baka; insult me again and it'll be the last thing you ever do!"

Bulma winced and struggled in Vegeta's grip. "Get the fuck off me! Do you want the Gravity Room fixing or not!?"

Vegeta was silent for a moment before releasing Bulma. He folded his arms across his chest and glowered at her. He hated to admit it to himself but Bulma was right; nobody else would even consider the thought of keeping him as a house guest. He wasn't entirely sure why Bulma had wanted to accomodate him in the first place, and he couldn't afford to abandon the kind of facilities she and her family had to offer. How many other rich scientists would be willing to share their technology with him and suffer his abuse on a daily basis? Vegeta's eye twitched again as he inwardly acknowledged what he had to do.

"Fine. What time are we leaving?"