Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Friends ❯ 13 - Jealous ( Chapter 13 )

Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets

Ch.13 - Jealous

“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Vegeta asked her in a condescending tone.

Bulma looked at her sketches. “What? You don't like it?”

“It's orange, brown, yellow and blue and,” Vegeta leaned in closer to her drawings, squinting at them in disdain. “And pink?!”

Bulma thoughtfully tapped her lip with her pen. “Too much?” she asked, cocking her head as she contemplated her designs for their school project.

Vegeta scoffed. “It looks like a super hero character a three year old would concoct. Just make it simple. Like blue. Strong. Powerful.”

Bulma tapped the paper, frowning. “Just blue? No highlights at all?”

“No,” Vegeta told her firmly. She looked up at him, pouting, and he sighed. “If you must accessorize, keep it streamlined. White.” He thought about it for a moment, then added. “Maybe gold.”

Bulma smirked. “How very militaristic of you, Vegeta.”

He frowned.

She smiled before looking back at her sketches. She shuffled them together and put them away. “Are you finished with your research?” She asked him, reaching her arms up above her head to stretch.

Vegeta nodded. “You?”

Bulma eased her arms down with a laugh. “Getting there.”

“Tch,” Vegeta grunted, displeased. “Need I remind you that the assignment is due next week. I thought you'd be more on top of your workload. I'd better not flunk this project because you can't carry your weight.”

Bulma poked her tongue out at him. “Trust me, I'll be pulling both our weight and then some on this project. Just e-mail me what you have so far so I can compile all the data.”

Vegeta grunted, and she took that as his assent.

Bulma's cell phone rang. She hopped up, hurrying over to answer it. “Excuse me,” she pardon herself to Vegeta right before answering the phone. “Oh, Raditz! Hey, it's been a while.” Bulma moved to a quiet corner of her room to carry out her conversation. After several minutes of catching up and laughing, she looked up only to see that Vegeta had let himself out of her room. She shrugged and went back to her call.

The next day, walking to school together, Vegeta initiated conversation with her. It was so unlike him to speak to her on their route that she almost tripped when he broke the silence. “Who were you talking to last night?” He asked her. “Radish or someone? I don't remember that name among the herd of buffoons you usually hang out with.”

“Hmm? Oh, Raditz,” Bulma corrected. “Yeah, he doesn't go to school with us. He's older. He's Goku's cousin actually, and when he was in school he got expelled for getting involved in some gang.”

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. “Which gang?”

Bulma shrugged. “Like I'd know. He's an idiot, but he means well enough.”

Vegeta frowned, looking forward. “…You two sounded pretty chummy.”

Bulma cocked her head. “I suppose. He was always pretty sweet on me. Where Goku is like my little brother, Raditz was something of a big brother to me. We don't see each other as much as we used to, but when we do it's like nothing's changed.”

Vegeta's mouth thinned, looking displeased by this news. “If he's related to the clown, and dumb enough to get caught doing seedy activities, then he doesn't sound like much good to me.”

Bulma smirked and nudged Vegeta's side. “Jealous?”

“Tch. Of what?” he snapped back.

She smiled at him, eyes twinkling. “That I have so many strong, handsome young men around me?”

Vegeta threw her a hard look. “So this Raditz is `strong and handsome' is he?”

Bulma laughed, feeling a thrill of pleasure. “Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” she teased.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Vegeta flared. “It's just in poor taste to gloat about how desirable you are.”

“Oh really?” Bulma asked, smirking. “I seem to remember a time you saying you were the first smart choice I had made.”

“That's not gloating, that's just a fact,” Vegeta replied back simply. Bulma snorted, but her smile faltered when she saw him smirk at her. It was never good news when he looked at her that way. “But if you want to play that game, go ahead and ask me how much tail I've had to turn down since coming here.”

That stopped Bulma in her tracks. She stared up at him, feeling cold fingers of jealousy grip her. “Wait, you… What?”

Vegeta stopped a few steps ahead of her, half turned towards her, still smirking. “What's wrong? Don't you want to know?”

She didn't, Bulma realized. The thought of Vegeta with other girls made her feel suddenly ill. To hide her panic she put on a brave face, feigning indifference. “I don't believe you. You've been a surly, shabby lone-wolf since you arrived. I haven't seen anyone but myself give you the time of day.”

Vegeta's mouth twitched, his eyes narrowing subtly, but he shrugged, looking away nonchalantly. “If that's what you choose to see.” Feeling her heart quicken with fear, Bulma found her feet and stomped past him, continuing onwards. “We'll be late for school,” she grumbled, not feeling like conversing on the topic any further.

The rest of the day at school, Bulma watched Vegeta like a hawk, making sure he wasn't garnering any unwanted female attention. No one paid him any attention in class, and for the classes they didn't share, Bulma would hurry out as soon as the bell range to catch Vegeta in the hallways, but as per usual, everyone gave him a wide birth. If he was entertaining any girls, he was stealthy about it. By the end of the day, Bulma was starting to think that Vegeta had just been messing with her.

When the final bell rang, Bulma headed towards the school exit. She came around the final corner and saw Vegeta waiting for her. He was leaning against the a door frame, but she almost didn't recognize him. He looked dramatically different - his attire changed. Gone were his dark baggy jacket and top, replaced by a fitted white tee - probably an undershirt he'd been wearing. The top clung to his torso like a second skin, showing off his broad chest and back, his muscular arms, and lean cut abdomen. His hair was freshly slicked back, and most remarkable were a pair of rose-colored shades that highlighted rather than hid his eyes. Even his cast didn't detract from his look, adding a roguish element to his otherwise new clean-cut style. Vegeta looked sharp. Fuck, Bulma thought, he looked good. And for once, he looked approachable.

Which is where the problem lay, for Vegeta wasn't waiting by the door alone. A couple girls were standing before him, chatting to him in a very flirty manner while Vegeta stood there, tolerating them. One of the girls even had her manicured claws on his cast, stroking the BADMAN Bulma had designed for him. Bulma could feel a sour look contorting her expression, something dark and ugly twisting in her stomach at the sight of girls fawning over Vegeta. It made her feel… something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but it wasn't pleasant. In fact, it was painful and shattering.

Vegeta looked up and saw her, his gaze locking with hers. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, then he pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against and without so much as a pardon, pushed the girls aside and made his way over to her. Seeing him make a B line for her, leaving the other girls in his wake, Bulma felt the hot, ugly feeling inside her subside, replaced with something warmer, and far more dangerous for how heady it was.

Vegeta approached her, eyes only on her. “Your bag,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers, piercing her even through the rose-tinted shades.

Bulma was having trouble processing his words, still drinking in the picture he painted. “Huh?” she replied.

“Give me your bag,” Vegeta repeated slowly, his eyes burning into hers, demanding every ounce of attention she possessed.

Bulma nodded obediently, feeling her heart-rate flutter uncontrollably. She handed him her bag which he deftly swung over his shoulder. Then he grabbed her wrist and walked her out of the school, past the two girls who had been crowding him earlier. He didn't even give them a second glance as they walked past. Bulma turned to watch them, seeing their sullen, pouty expressions as they watched Vegeta leave with her. Bulma couldn't help the smug, victorious smile that turned up the corners of her mouth.

“You're egging them on,” Vegeta said, using the same words she had berated him with about Yamcha. Bulma whipped her head around to look at him, and saw he was glancing at her from the corner of his shades, watching her expressions.

Bulma scowled huffily to hide her embarrassment. “I am not. Besides, what's all this about then?” she asked, waving a hand at Vegeta's outfit.

“Proving a point,” he said, letting go of her wrist as they left the school grounds. She tried not to look disappointed, the ghosts of his fingers lingering on her wrist.

“Trying to make me jealous by showing me how much `tail' you can get?” Bulma asked, her tone bitchy even to her own ears.

Vegeta hooked the middle of his shades and brought them down his nose so that he could look at her directly. “No. I'm showing you that I usually dress `shabby' for a reason. I don't need that attention, day in day out. And I especially don't need friends. But you're the only idiot who didn't seem to pick up on that cue.”

Bulma stared back at him, baffled. Vegeta had dressed this way because he'd taken offense to her quip about his shabby fashion? This was about vanity, not jealousy? She could hardly believe it. “I don't get you,” she said with a sigh, dumbfounded.

Vegeta pushed his shades back up, looking away with a wry expression. “Likewise.”

They walked together in silence, Bulma feeling a growing unease. She'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, and she had a pretty good idea why. Her reaction to seeing the other girls swarming Vegeta had been too strong for her own liking. She and Vegeta weren't even dating, and yet she'd felt possessive of him, as though Vegeta was hers… only, he wasn't.

She needed to get a grip. She knew she had no right to be jealous, Vegeta had clearly told her that he wasn't going to get into a relationship with her, and she had come to accept that, in a way, but the idea that he might have been seeking female companionship elsewhere… Bulma shook her head, trying to rid herself of the idea, and of the jealousy she felt. It just wasn't fair, she could never figure out where she stood with Vegeta - annoyance, friend, love interest? The mixed signals he sent her weren't doing her any favors. One minute he said that nothing could happen between them, then the next he was carrying her bag, brushing off some of the prettiest girls in the school just to walk her home, all the while looking like he'd stepped out of a Bad Boys Monthly magazine, just to prove a point to her. It was doing her head in something fierce, and she was starting to question her sanity and her decision to wait for Vegeta to come around; it was causing her too much heartache.

“Here,” Vegeta said, jolting her out of her contemplation, and suddenly she was smacked in the middle with her own bag.

“Oof!” Bulma cried out, grabbing her bag reflexively. “What the hell?”

“It's heavy,” Vegeta said indifferently, and continued walking, leaving her to hold her own bag.

Bulma glared at him in irritation. She swung the bag over her shoulder and hurried to catch up. “Then why did you make a big deal about taking my bag in the first place?” she grouched at him as she caught up.

“To get that look off your face,” he replied.

Bulma gripped her shoulder strap, glaring at Vegeta in annoyance. “What look?”

He glanced at her perceptively. “The same look you had when I first ran into you, coming out of the men's toilets.”

Bulma felt the color drain from her face. He was talking about when she'd found Yamcha cheating on her. Betrayal. Vegeta was talking about betrayal. The word flashed in her mind, filling her body with a sick, heavy weight, and everything clicked together. That was the elusive feeling she had experienced when she'd spotted Vegeta with the other girls, she had felt betrayed. Her feelings for Vegeta were worse than she'd thought. On top of which, he'd seen it on her face.

Bulma looked at Vegeta, reeling from her revelation and dumbfounded that he would even pay her expressions that much consideration. “Since when do you care what anyone else is feeling?” she asked, shaken.

Vegeta shrugged a shoulder. “I don't. Unless it's you.” Bulma thought the ground was going to drop away from beneath her. “Aside from myself and my father, you're the only one I give a damn about.”

Bulma slowed to a stop, unable to walk and process the weight of Vegeta's confession.

He glanced back at her, frowning. “Stop dragging your feet,” he said gruffly.

Bulma nodded dumbly, picking up her feet, following beside him in silence. She kept her eyes on the ground, unable to look him in the eye. Her world was crashing around her with revelation. She was totally doomed. There was no going back. It was no good worrying about Vegeta anymore, about being patient, or thinking of giving up on him. What good would it do, since it wouldn't change the fact that she'd already completely and utterly fallen for him?

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“You look awful,” Vegeta greeted her bluntly.

Bulma felt awful. She had pulled a couple all nighters trying to finish their project on time. She huffed at Vegeta, not in the mood for his brutal honesty when she was so sleep deprived. “That's so rude,” she snapped back.

“Is it done?” he asked her, indifferent to her crankiness.

Bulma nodded, digging about in her bag and pulling out a laminated folder. She handed it to Vegeta for his perusal. He flipped through it, looking at their research notes, charts and designs. The frown on his face eased. “Hmm, seems passable,” he said.

“You asshole. It's brilliant,” Bulma corrected him, rubbing her tired eyes. “Mostly because of me, but also in part to your efforts. I concede you did some really solid research.”

Vegeta gave her an odd look.

“What?” she asked, a little too sharply, cranky from lack of sleep.

Vegeta looked away from her. “Nothing… it's just odd to be praised for school work.”

“You mean, in a group project?” Bulma asked, not surprised seeing as Vegeta didn't collaborate well with others.

Vegeta frowned, not answering her. That's when Bulma understood that he'd meant ever. Had no one ever bothered to compliment him before? Jesus, just how much abuse had this boy been brought up with? Perhaps it was from lack of sleep, but on a whim, Bulma stepped in and hugged him.

Vegeta instantly stiffened. “What are you doing?!” he snapped at her, alarmed.

“Thanking you for your help,” she said stubbornly. She gave him a final squeeze, then stepped back before he he could shove her away, and before she found it too hard to let him go. She distracted herself by pulling out a package from her bag, handing it to Vegeta.

“What's this?” he asked, suspicious now from her assault, taking the package uncertainly as if it might try to bite him.

“Our invention.”

Vegeta looking up at her, incredulous. “… More research?”

“No, it's our invention,” Bulma repeated impatiently. “Open it up, dum-dum.”

Vegeta scowled. He put the folder aside so that he could open the package. He pulled out a long, sporty blue unitard made of a stretchy yet resilient fabric, similar to spandex.

Bulma smiled at the stunned look on Vegeta's face, feeling pride at her creation. “What do you think? Go on, try it, try to damage it.”

Vegeta gave her a surprised look, then returned his focus to the garment. He stepped on one end and grabbed the cloth with his good hand and tried to wrench it apart, but the material simply stretched, taking the abuse before snapping back into place. Bulma grinned. “Neat, huh? But that's not even the best part,” she said, and she pulled out a box cutter. She popped the blade and handed the handle to Vegeta. He took it uncertainly, then tried to stab through the fabric, but the unitard resisted the impact. Vegeta stared at the fabric, utterly dumbfounded. “You… created this?”

Bulma pushed her hair back. “Of course. It's based on our research. A fusion between rugby uniforms and bullet proof armor, flexible, strong, able to resist extreme impacts. The perfect MMA training outfit.”

Vegeta didn't seem to know what to do with that information. “…It was only supposed to be a theoretical exercise,” he said, looking up at her, at a loss.

Bulma took the material back from him with a smug look. “I know, but I'm Bulma Briefs, I make the theoretical possible. I told you, I'm a genius, and an inventor. Do you think I've been working my ass off just over a bunch of stupid pie charts? Please. We're going to blow this presentation out of the water! That A+ distinction is mine, er, ours!”

Vegeta looked uncomfortable, like he didn't know what to do in the wake of her sheer genius. “We should get going,” he finally said, and left without another look at her.

Bulma scowled after him, disappointed that he hadn't been more impressed and glowing with praise for her genius. Not that she expected much from Vegeta, but she had hoped for something at least. They walked to school in silence, Vegeta avoiding her gaze, Bulma miffed.

In class, their presentation clearly outshone everyone else's. Mr Popo was very impressed and asked to speak to Bulma and Vegeta after class about their work. While she was giving the teacher a run down of the patent process she'd gone through with her invention, Vegeta slipped out without her knowing. She looked for him at lunch, but he wasn't in the cafeteria. There was only one other place she knew that Vegeta liked to go to during lunch periods, and she decided to check out his old haunt.

She found him on the roof, staring moodily up at the sky. She took a seat beside him. “Hey, what's up? You're being more aloof than usual.”

“Nothing. Just evaluating the shit show that is my life,” he replied drolly.

Bulma snorted. “Sounds intense. Care to talk it out?” she nudged his side in a friendly, prodding manner.

He glanced at her, then away. He sighed. “You created something that didn't exist before. One day it didn't exist, then it did, because of you.”

“Yep,” she replied simply.

Vegeta gave her an incredulous look. “`Yep'? `Yep'? That's what you have to say for yourself? Damnit, Bulma, that's ridiculous. What the fuck are you even doing in a place like this? You should be in some goddamn government lab creating automated space pods or something equally genius.”

Bulma smiled and shrugged, hugging her knees to her chest. “There's too many restrictions working for the government,” she said mildly, only half in tongue-in-cheek. If not for her father's company, a top-secret government lab would have been a worthwhile consideration.

Her answer only seemed to make Vegeta angrier. “This place is holding you back,” he snapped at her. “These people aren't doing you any favors.”

“These people?” She asked, her brow rising.

“Yes,” he said hotly. “You deserve more than some third rate public school education, and Christ, your family can afford to give it to you. So why the fuck are you even here?” He looked at her, his eyes furious. “Why are you even here?”

Bulma was struck with clarity. “You mean, with you?” she asked, giving Vegeta an understanding look. He clenched his fist and looked away from her, and she knew she'd hit the nail on the head. She leaned in, not letting him shut her out. “Is that what this is really about? You think you're not good enough for me?”

Vegeta clenched his jaw, giving her a sidelong look. “So what if it fucking is? All I'm good at is destroying things and taking a beating. Why are you wasting your goddamn time with me?” His eyes were fierce, imploring. She could see the unasked questions, the built up frustration and doubt that gnawed away at him. It made her heart ache.

Bulma put her hand on his forearm, and leaned in. She kissed his cheek softly, squeezing his arm. “I'm the genius here, so why don't you let me worry about that? Besides, it's good ying and yang isn't it? You destroy, I create?” she gave him a half smile.

Vegeta took her kiss with a scowl, but didn't look appeased, her answer unsatisfactory. “You could do so much better, Bulma,” he said softly, and she didn't know if he meant with himself, or in life in general. “You've so many options, it's not fair you limit yourself to this plebeian life.”

“Hey, I choose to be here, I like this life,” Bulma interjected. “I have my whole future to be a genius scientist, but only this time now to be a student with my friends in high school. And I'm glad, because otherwise, I wouldn't have met you,” she smiled at him.

“Tch. Fat load of good that did you.”

Bulma frowned. “That doesn't sound like the Vegeta I know,” she chastised gently. “The Vegeta I know is proud, because he has a lot to be proud of. He's strong, smart, goal-orientated, persistent, honorable, reliable, kind-”

“Are we talking about the same Vegeta?”

“-In a weird, grumpy way,” Bulma amended, smirking. Vegeta rolled his eyes and looked away to stare out at the sky, sulking. “You make no fucking sense,” he grumbled.

Bulma squeezed his arm again, then rested her head on his shoulder. “You're not the first to say so.” She fell silent, thinking, a nagging worry growing in her heart. “… You're not going to start treating me differently now, are you?”

Vegeta huffed. “What the fuck for?”

Bulma shrugged. “Most people do. They just see me as the `smart, scientist girl' or the `rich girl' or the `fight club groupie girl'. They put me on a weird pedestal, and start attaching their expectations to it, expectations I never wanted to have. No one sees me for just me, you know? Not until…” she trailed off, needing to find her courage, then pushed on. “No until I met you.”

Vegeta didn't reply right away, mulling over her confession. “You're mostly the `pain in the ass girl' to me,” he finally said. Bulma elbowed his side. Vegeta took it without complaint. “What about those fools you call friends?” he asked. “They don't see you?”

Bulma hummed contemplatively. “Yeah, well, they are pretty awesome. But they have their own lives to think about. I've seen Chi-Chi looking at wedding magazines already - and the guys, well, I'm lucky if I'm an after thought to them most of the time.” Bulma smiled at Vegeta. “Don't get me wrong, they're all dear to me, but…” she trailed off, not sure how to express what she felt.

“You're an outsider amongst your peers?” Vegeta hazarded.

Bulma looked at him with surprise. She nodded. “Yeah, something like that. You know the feeling?”

Vegeta grimaced. “On occasion,” he said, and by his tone she guessed it was something he felt quite frequently.

Bulma gave him a sympathetic smile. “But you've never had expectations of me, you've never taken it easy on me, or treated me differently because I'm smart or rich or beautiful.”

“Tch,” Vegeta interjected. “You're giving me too much credit. It's because of those things that I pay you any attention at all, you moron.”

Bulma laughed. “See? And you don't pull any punches.”

“I'm not joking.”

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Please. Those were just circumstances that got us to meet. Are you honestly saying you still put up with me because I get good marks or have a wealthy family?”

Vegeta looked up at the clouds. “Well, the money part helps now that I'm living with you.”

Bulma thinned her lips, but she knew Vegeta wasn't going to give her a candid answer; expressing real emotions wasn't something that came easily to him, and he'd already been more personal with her this conversation than he was probably comfortable with. “Well, whatever the case,” she pressed on. “I don't want you treating me differently because I'm a little above the bell curve when it comes to genius. I like it when you treat me for just being me. Do you know what that's like, to have someone treat you for just being you?”

Vegeta looked at her from the corner of his eye for a long while. His mouth finally turned up wryly, and he leaned into her. “Mm… I think I'm beginning to.”

Bulma smiled, and looked away before he could see the helpless adoration in her eyes.

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It wasn't long before Vegeta was able to get his cast removed, earlier than the doctor had initially thought. His ribs were also given a clean bill of health. Vegeta was awfully smug about the whole process, claiming he'd always healed fast. He was clearly excited to have the cast removed, flexing his freed hand, his eyes glinting with the taste of freedom, elated to be fully mobile once more.

“You'll be able to participate fully in the MMA club now,” Bulma said as Vegeta flexed his arm, twisting it experimentally.

He smirked at her in a cocksure way. “Finally someone there will know what they're doing,” he boasted.

Bulma snorted. “You're in for a surprise. Goku's better than you think. The others too.”

“Please. I've been watching them train. I could have taken them all on, even with my cast,” Vegeta scoffed.

Bulma rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “We'll see. Goku is a whole different beast when he fights for real. You shouldn't underestimate him. He came first in state last year.”

“Good for him,” Vegeta said snidely.

Now that their project was finished with, and Vegeta was at full health, he spent a lot more time in the home gym when he wasn't training at school. It meant he and Bulma spent less time together one on one, but Bulma found it to be a fair trade as she could enjoy the MMA club sessions a whole lot more. No longer stuck on the bench or performing simple katas, Vegeta was forced to interact with the other guys on the team, something Bulma found insatiably amusing. Vegeta intimidated the smaller guys, and pissed off almost all of them, but only Goku seemed amused by his aggressive behavior, and that in turn pissed off Vegeta. But the best part of all was watching Vegeta go through routines and exercises. With him fully healed, it was a treat for Bulma's eyes. She often found herself chewing on the end of a pencil, watching Vegeta perform an endless array of push-ups, her eyes studying the way his biceps bulged and his neck corded while she pretended to study her notes. She went through an awful lot of pencils.

To everyone's irritation, and to Vegeta's great satisfaction, Vegeta proved far stronger and more adept at fighting than the rest of the MAA boys. Only Goku came close to beating him, and that was after Vegeta had exhausted himself in matches against the other boys. Coach Piccolo had to call an end to their fight before anyone got seriously hurt. Despite his victory, Vegeta didn't seem too happy. He started watching Goku with a narrowed gaze and took training far more seriously after that. Bulma suspected Vegeta's victory had been narrower than his ego felt comfortable with.

As days turned into weeks, she noticed Vegeta getting bigger. The healthy diet he was getting at the Breif's house, along with the regular exercise in their gym was helping him put on a lot more muscle. He'd also grown an inch, something Bulma discovered when they were arguing one day and she found, to her great chagrin, that she had to look up to glare into his eyes.

As the weather grew warmer, Bulma's parents decided it was time to take a vacation.

“Where are we going?” Bulma asked as they discussed their plans over breakfast.

“You're not going anywhere, dear,” Dr. Briefs said over his newspaper. “Your mother and I are traveling alone. You and Vegeta need to stay and attend school. You also need to look at applying for college credit courses.”

“You're leaving us behind?” Bulma cried, aghast.

“Yes dear, but you'll have the whole place to yourself, won't that be nice?” Mrs. Briefs twittered.

Bulma sulked into her plate. “Living in this place without parental supervision? Nothing new then,” she grouched under her breath, salty. Her parents didn't hear, but she suspected Vegeta did when he glanced her way.

“You can invite your friends over and have a little party,” Mrs. Briefs suggested.

“Mom!” Bulma protested, slapping her hands down on the table. “It's no fun if you allow it! You're supposed to forbid such things, so it's more exciting.”

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Briefs put a worried hand to her cheek. “Well in that case, no parties then. And absolutely don't help yourself to the pantry or let your friends stay in the guest rooms if need be.”

“Ugh!” Bulma groaned, and dropped her head to the table in dramatic frustration. “I can't believe you're leaving me behind. You know how much I like to travel and go on adventures. You never left Tights behind, this is so unfair.”

“School is getting to be too important to skip,” Dr. Briefs said matter-of-factly. “Besides, Vegeta's here now. He'll be man of the house while we're gone. You'll take care of my daughter while we're out, won't you, son?” Dr. Briefs asked Vegeta.

Vegeta paused, surprised to be addressed and asked such a task. He glanced at Dr. Briefs, then at Bulma who scowled at him, then back to the Doctor. “Uh, yes, sir.”

“Dad! I don't need a babysitter!” Bulma hissed, humiliated.

“Well perhaps if you weren't acting like a baby,” Vegeta mumbled at her.

Bulma glowered at him, fuming. “Shut it, alien head!”

“Now, now, there will be plenty of time for you two to fight when we're gone,” Dr. Briefs interrupted them before they could get into it. “You take care of each other and the house. We'll leave our contact information just in case. It's all been decided already so there's no point arguing.” Dr. Briefs stood up, and put a hand on Vegeta's shoulder. “She's your responsibility. I trust you to keep her safe.”

Vegeta froze under the gesture and words. A mix of emotions warred on his face until he managed a stiff nod.

“Good boy!” Dr. Briefs complimented, then he grabbed his coffee and left. Mrs. Briefs busied herself cleaning up.

“Worst. Parents. Ever,” Bulma sulked into the table.

“Tch,” Vegeta grumbled, but Bulma noticed he didn't disagree with her, looking vexed and maybe a little daunted at the responsibility placed on his shoulders.

Bulma looked at him, sighing. “Don't think you can boss me around when my parents are gone.”

Vegeta flashed her an irritated look. “Stay out of my way and I won't have to.”

“Fine, I will,” she replied back hotly. “And I'm going to have a party, so don't bring your surly attitude and ruin it for me, okay?”

“Like hell you will,” Vegeta growled. “I won't have a bunch of strangers in my house.”

“Your house?” Bulma asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” he replied back, narrowing his eyes at her. They stared off at each other, glaring.

Bulma mulled over her options. She pursed her lips, thinking. “…I'll fix the rowing machine in the gym,” she finally offered, recalling Vegeta complaining about the broken equipment a few days ago.

Vegeta's eyes flicked with interest, his brows coming together. His finger tapped his thigh as he considered her words. “Fine,” he finally relented.

“Fine,” she replied, holding out her hand. He eyed it cautiously before meeting it with his own. They shook hands on their deal. Bulma smiled smugly to herself; with her parents gone, throwing a party was just the opportunity she needed to get Vegeta all to herself.

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AN:

In case you couldn't tell, I love putting in little DBZ references throughout this fic, our little in-jokes ;) This one had a lot. Not sure if it was obvious, but the sketches were a throw-back to Vegeta's Planet Arlia colors, and the rose-colored sunglasses are supposed to be a tip-of-the-hat to the scouter. Not to mention insults like `alien head' and the fact that Vegeta is getting more buff, like he did with his transition throughout the various DBZ sagas.

Sorry if the quality wasn't up to par this time around, I had a very minor medical procedure the other day and it's left me in some discomfort, so I didn't quite have the energy to be too pedantic with editing this chapter. Everything is fine though, or should be, so no need to worry ;)

Speaking of chapters, OH MY GOSH GUYS, I'm dying to show you chapter 14. Actually, the next few chapters are quite exciting, IMO. Can't wait to see what you all think. muwhahaha. >:)