Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ FROM BAD TO WORSE... ❯ Civil Repartee ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Last Chapter: Bulma tracks down and nurses back to health a depressed Vegeta.
The pair exchange a sweet moment in her lab that finally changes their
relationship from being adversaries to something more...
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FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Five

Practically before the sun had begun its inexorable ascent of the new day,
Vegeta was in the courtyard of the Capsule Corporation lot stretching his limbs
in a brief warm-up before beginning his morning jog. He didn't normally bother
with such waste of time tactics but his muscles were aching from the torture
he'd put his system through the day before. He figured wasting a few minutes
might not be such a bad idea before he seriously pulled already strained
muscles.

Following that disastrous scene in the lab early yesterday morning, Vegeta
had fled to the gravity simulator to cope with his embarrassment and arousal. He
had witlessly set it to the extreme limits he had been practicing at, not
realizing just how much his little island misadventure had weakened him. He had
set it to three hundred like he always did and pressed the engage switch hoping
that Bulma had found time to fix it-

-And promptly went crashing face-first into the floor where he had
remained pinned like a bug for the better part of the day.

He finally managed to crawl to the console and turn the damn thing down
but by then the damage had been done. It didn't ease his frustration to have to
acknowledge the fact that he was now reduced to the same level he had originally
started at; losing well over a month of precious acclimation to the simulator
and now having to start all over again basically from scratch.

And all because of a stupid woman!

He still had no explanation for his over-reaction to her finding out that
he was working for her father. None of it made any sense. For some reason he had
found her knowledge of his secret to be completely unendurable. He really didn't
know what was worse; To be pushed over the brink of sanity worrying about what
the stupid woman must think of him or having her track him down and bring him
back like some lost mongrel. Either scenario was dreadful and both had happened
and now he had to grapple with what had happened in the lab-

Without meaning to he absently touched his left cheek, the one she had
kissed in her excitement. Her lips had seemed like a brand on his over-heated
flesh. He wouldn't have been surprised to look in a mirror and see that mark
etched there in stark relief. The vision of her deep blue eyes only mere inches
from his own had haunted his dreams last night, making him wake up in sweaty
frustration. There had yet to be night since he had arrived on this backwater
planet where he'd had a proper night's sleep and his nerves were beginning to
wear down from the strain. He was dismayed to find his emotional defenses were
also in tatters against the strength of this woman who appeared ignorant of her
true power over him. This was a battle where he had no experience to boast, he
would have to be on his guard against her. He was accustomed to taking what he
wanted and leaving with his cohorts without the concept of a conscience. Murder,
rape, theft, chaos; they had all been the same to him, a diversion to his own
madness but for some reason everything had changed.

HE had changed.

"Not for the better," he muttered as he finished with his exercises and
figured he was as ready as he ever would be. "It can't possibly be for the
better."

"Talking to yourself," remarked a distinctly feminine voice from behind
him. "Tsk.Tsk. That can't be a good sign, Vegeta."

He visibly stiffened and glowered over one shoulder as Bulma approached
with that damnable pleasant smile of her. She was wearing a tight spandex tank
top and a pair of shorts and...his eyes never got any further as they crawled
over the top again. "What are you doing here, woman?" he asked gruffly.

She caught sight of one bruised cheek. "What happened to you?"

"I'm having a shitty month. You didn't answer my question."

"I'm taking you up on your offer."

"...my offer..."

"Remember? Outside of the lab in the corridor? You invited me to come and
join you for a morning jog. You said I could use the exercise, so here I am."

"I told you that almost two weeks ago!"

"And like I said, 'here I am'," Bulma said smugly. "Are we gonna talk the
morning away or hit the trail?"

"Fine. Try to keep up if you think you can. I'm NOT going to slow down for
you."

"I didn't expect you would."

With a huff Vegeta started his jog out of the courtyard while Bulma kept
even pace with him, still smiling that knowing little grin. He debated breaking
into a desperate sprint to be rid of her but his eye had begun to track the
pendulous rise and fall of her generous chest as she kept in step beside him. He
decided that maybe, just maybe, the view might be worth the price of putting up
with her.

Bulma's private amusement increased as their jog took them into the city's
main park and he still showed no sign of abandoning her. She had deliberately
bought her top one size smaller than what she usually wore just for this
intended reason. It wasn't comfortable but against the Saiyan's arrogance, a
girl had to use what tactics she could.

It was surprising how many other people were in the park running the
trails despite the obvious early hour. She realized that Vegeta must keep to the
same paths as several other jogging enthusiasts offered a wave at him as he
passed by, a common greeting among kindred spirits. The Saiyan merely offered an
acknowledging nod, if anything at all. It depended on the gender of the greeter.

Despite the fact that Bulma considered herself in reasonably good shape,
she knew she was going to have to call a time-out to rest for a minute, whether
it ended their companionable session or not. She barely had opened her mouth
when another woman came up on the other side of him.

"Morning, Vegeta. Haven't seen you around in awhile," the woman said
pleasantly. She was a full head taller and her chest (obviously implants, Bulma
noted with acidic jealousy) was at his eye level. Submerging a smile, Vegeta's
impression of the day was improving by the minute.

"I've been busy," he said neutrally.

"Yeah, I can see that," the woman remarked, eyeing his bruised face and
sunburned arms. "You look like hell. Who's your friend?"

"My name's Bulma. Bulma Briefs," she said, relieved to be included in this
enigmatic exchange. She extended a hand.

The woman took it gracefully. She was a beautiful brunette whose dark shin
and eyes almost rivaled Vegeta's. "Briefs...of the Capsule Corp. Empire?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it an-"

"Now I know why you've been turning me down," the woman said as she turned
back to him, rudely excusing Bulma who began to fume on the sidelines. "I can't
compete with that. Let me know when you want something...more exotic."

"I won't," he said and the woman shot him a sour glance and then pulled
ahead of them.

"What a bitch!" Bulma hissed, not even waiting until she was out of
earshot. Vegeta's smirk was back, it had been shelved for quite some time. "Who
was she?"

"Don't know. Don't care."

"She sure seemed to know you."

"Once in awhile she joins me on my run. If she wasn't so stacked I'd jog
somewhere else."

"Gosh, she sure looks familiar," Bulma said, more to herself.

"She said she does movies. I think that was supposed to impress me, for
some reason," he told her in a bored tone of voice.

The name finally came to the face and she stumbled in her shock, nearly
falling down. "Ohmigod! That was Dorothy Pereaux!"

"So?" Vegeta asked in irritation. He wanted to get on with the run and do
away with this useless chatter.

"Yamcha and I saw a movie of hers not too long ago. She's a movie star! I-
I don't believe it. I have to sit down-" she staggered over to the nearest bench
and hunched over trying to get back her breath. Vegeta kept running until he
discovered he was alone and reluctantly came walking back. "What's the damn
problem?"

"It's hard to put into words," she said as a lame excuse. It unnerved her
that all of this time on Vegeta's jogs he was keeping company with the likes of
the infamous Ms. Pereaux while she thought he was off alienating everyone in the
city. "I mean, she's famous-"

"Bah. The slut is all artificial. She's got nothing on you," he commented.

"The thought of her-" Bulma gave him an astonished double-take as his
terse statement sank in. "What did you just say?"

Realizing he had just given her a compliment Vegeta cleared his throat and
changed the subject. "Are we going to continue our run or not?"

"I think I'm done in, Vegeta. Now about what you said-"

"I knew you were out of shape," he said smugly and resumed his run without
her.

Bulma let him go, too winded to try and stop him and force him to repeat
what he had said. She'd heard enough to bring a smile to her sweaty features.
When her legs stopped shaking, she slowly walked back home feeling tired but
relieved that she had made the effort this morning to join him.

When she entered the Capsule Corp. compound, she saw Yamcha cleaning out
one of the storage capsules. Paur caught sight of her first and started to trill
in excitement and she had no choice but to wander over. When he stepped outside
and saw her, his eyes bulged and Bulma had never wished for a jacket to cover
herself up so much in her life.

"Where were you?" he asked bluntly, not bothering with the usual
formalities.

"I went jogging with Vegeta."

Yamcha gaped at her. "Wearing THAT?" He could remember the odd time that
he had managed to coax her to come along on one of his own jogs. She had worn
baggy sweatpants and a tee shirt several sizes too big for her that had hung
practically down to her knees. He was unable to pull his eyes away from her
strutted nipples clearly visible against the straining fabric.

She crossed her arms self-consciously across her chest. "I didn't receive
any complaints," she said aloofly.

"I'm surprised the little shit noticed," he said bitterly, wounded by her
attitude. "I had him figured to be a closet fag."

"You can shelve that theory. He's definitely not."

Yamcha's face darkened as he waited for a further explanation and didn't
get one. That smug look of accomplishment on her face was like a kick to the
groin to him. He considered himself a great catch and God's gift to women and
all of a sudden here was some prick-haired little shit intruding on his turf and
turning the tables. His deep rage grew.

"What're you doing?" she asked lightly, knowing she had hit a nerve and
relishing in it.

"Your father asked me to make some room in this storage capsule. I'm doing
it as a favor but I don't know why he doesn't ask Vegeta to do it. All that runt
does is freeload and you all just seem to put up with it."

"Don't you worry about it. Vegeta earns his keep," Bulma said with a grin
adding a suggestive wink. Deliberately puffing out her ample bosom, she gave him
a wave and walked away. Behind her, Yamcha muttered a stream of oaths and went
back to work. He was through being patient and she heard glass shatter inside
the capsule, immediately followed by outraged curses.

>>>>>
The morning jog became something of a routine between the two that Bulma
actually began to look forward to even though she was far from a morning person.
Some days Vegeta would tolerate her attempts at conversation and on others he
would bluntly tell her to shut up. She was never sure if he liked her tagging
along or not, he never came out and told her one way or the other. Encouraged,
she deliberately set her clock each and every morning to join him.

She discovered the answer to that concern when she woke up one morning,
looked at her clock and discovered she had overslept by over an hour. "Oh,
damn!" She jumped out of bed and quickly pulled on a change of clothes and
sprinted out of the building in hopes of catching up to the Saiyan in the park.
Just as she reached the final storage capsule on the lot she saw Vegeta leaning
beside it, looking irritated and bored.

"I missed our run!" she said with dismay. "I'm sorry. I overslept."

"I haven't started it yet," he told her.

A flattered smile crossed her face. "You...were waiting for me all this
time?"

"Call it what you want. Let's go. I've wasted enough time on you, woman,"
he said roughly and turned to start the run. Bulma was practically skipping as
she fell into step beside him. She could scarcely believe that he had actually
postponed his driven routine to wait for her to show up. She couldn't get the
smile off of her face even though his features were set in stone and just as
cold when she looked at him. His aloofness didn't matter, his actions spoke
louder than mere words.

Bulma had more than doubled her distance and endurance in her morning
efforts and no longer had to call out frequent time-outs to catch her breath
while he grumbled on about her mothers' insistence to buy sweets. About three
kilometers into the run, the pair stopped at a vendor's cart and she chose a
pretzel since she hadn't had time for breakfast. Vegeta bought a juice and paid
for both items.

"Danke schon," the cart owner said.

"Nichtz zu danken," Vegeta responded, sipping his drink and walking away.

The pretzel was halfway to Bulma's mouth when she stared at him. "What was
that? You were speaking German!"

"Was I? Radditz must have transmitted some German broadcasts to my
scouter, the idiot."

"What are you talking about?" she asked as they wandered off the main
path. At this later hour mothers pushing strollers and pulling toddlers were
replacing the joggers. Vegeta resented having to pass around these slow
obstacles, particularly when Bulma paused long enough to coo at one baby or
another, interfering with his stride. He couldn't understand what all of the
fuss was about; the stinky little humans were even uglier than the adult ones.

To her question, he finally answered, "Radditz was the initial scout to
this world. He automatically transmitted all of Earth relevant broadcasts and
scans to our own scouter database. As Nappa and I traveled to Earth, all of that
information was transferred to us while we were in stasis."

"That's why your English is so flawless," Bulma said in amazement. She had
always wondered how the Saiyan could have had such an expert handle on Earth
slang and profanity even before he had actually set foot on the planet.

"That was standard protocol to every world we ever approached. I've been
downloaded with literally hundreds of different languages during my missions.
Fortunately, the new language automatically overwrites the old one or a soldier
would go insane from the overload."

Chewing thoughtfully on her pretzel, she remarked, "Now that would be a
handy thing to use."

"You still have the remains of Radditz's scouter. Figure it out. It's not
as if he's going to be needing it." He snorted in amusement.

"Vegeta, don't you miss them? You grew up with Radditz and Nappa. You
three were the last Saiyans, except for Gokou, to survive your homeworld's
destruction. How do you feel now that they're gone?"

He didn't answer right away, watching the young mothers as they gathered
in informal little herds while their spawn clambered over a nearby jungle gym
like unruly cockroaches. If things had gone his way, this city would now be a
desolate crater and the Earthlings a vague memory. He would have had his mantle
of immortality and ruled the universe by now. Instead, he was standing in the
park drinking an apple juice like a native accompanied by a female sidekick
whose father he worked for to make ends meet. Could things have gotten any more
fucked up?

"I would have eventually killed them anyway," he told her, adding," They
were weak."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Not to you, it wouldn't. You're not a Saiyan. Don't presume to question
my logic, woman."

He was losing his patience, she noted and dropped the subject before
things got messy. Bringing up Vegeta's past was like stepping onto a field full
of landmines without a map. Some things he talked about, other issues he avoided
completely. She had just learned that Nappa and Radditz were off-limits.
Finishing her breakfast, the two resumed their run through the landscaped
grounds of the park.

"Vegeta, how old are you?" she finally piped up.

"Shit. Here we go again," he grumbled under his breath. He was deeply
regretting the decision to wait for her to show up this morning. He vowed never
to make that mistake a second time that's for certain. With her getting in that
extra hour of sleep she was too wide-awake to keep her damn mouth shut.
"Kakarrot was born five years after I was."

"So you're thirty-one."

"I guess..."

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

Looking at her sidelong, he explained, "Time is relative. I shouldn't have
to explain that to you. The space pods are faster than light and I've spent
nearly a quarter of my life traveling in them."

She understood what he was driving at. "Chronologically, you're thirty-
one. Physically, you're somewhere in your twenties."

"Something like that. Yeah."

"Huh. Now I'm not so sure being a year younger is a good thing or not,"
she confessed.

"Old, young, it doesn't matter to me if you would only SHUT UP!" he
finally shouted into her face. Several heads turned at the sound and one little
girl nearby burst into noisy tears.

Bulma's face reddened and she slowed her pace. "I-I'm going to head back.
I've...uh, got work to do."

"Good deal," he growled and sped up his pace to finally be rid of her.
Bulma watched him go with mixed emotions, oblivious of the young mother who was
trying to sooth her distressed child.

"Let him go, honey," the woman told her directly. "You'd be better off."

Frowning, Bulma turned to look at her. "Excuse me?"

"That guy," she nodded after Vegeta. "I know the type. I was attracted to
a bad ass myself even though my friends tried to tell me he was no good. I
wouldn't listen. When he knocked me up he left town and I never heard from him
again."

Bulma got down at eye level to the little girl and tried to get her to
smile. "Your daughter is beautiful."

"Her beauty doesn't pay the bills," the woman snapped back.

The little girl cringed in acute misery at her mothers' harsh words. Bulma
began to hear the distant ticking of her own biological clock when the girl
raised her deep brown eyes to look up at her. Any liaison that could produce
such a little beauty had to be worth any trouble. Then again, she was obviously
in a different set of circumstances than this woman and her opinion wasn't
relevant. Not everyone had a family fortune and strong parental support to fall
back on. The woman in front of her was obviously struggling to make ends meet.

"Trust me," the woman continued. "Get out of the relationship while you
still have your sanity. And your figure. That guy is bad news."

"Thanks for the tip but I know how to look after myself," Bulma said
icily.

The embittered woman picked up her daughter and shot her one cool look as
she retorted, "You're too far gone, I can see I'm just wasting my breath. Just
remember that I tried to warn you."

Before Bulma could come up with a sarcastic retort, the woman stalked away
with what she clearly regarded as a burden and not the special little gift she
truly was. The girl raised a little hand and waved good-bye and, her heart
aching, Bulma returned it sadly. Those miserable pools of brown stayed with her
for most of the day.

>>>>>
The next morning the tables were tuned as Bulma found herself waiting for
Vegeta to show up for their morning ritual and after an hour, there was still no
sign of him. She had blown it with her insistent questions the day before and he
had abandoned her out of spite. She resented stepping on eggshells whenever she
was around him and decided that all of this grief just wasn't worth it. The
woman in the park was right. He was a lost cause.

Turning, she started back for home and caught a glimpse of a figure out of
the corner of her eye coming towards her. Her heart in her throat, she faced the
figure expectantly.

Yamcha was there, wearing bicycle shorts, a tight muscle shirt and a
gloating little smile. "All dressed up with no one to run with, Bulma," he
remarked lightly. "I'm not five feet tall and mean as hell but will I do?"

She knew she was never going to hear the end of this one but at the very
least, she might see Vegeta in the park and have the opportunity to rub the
alien's face into it. Giving Yamcha a hard shove, she barked, "Shut up and run."

It didn't last very long. The ex-lovers had barely reached the entrance to
the park when the questions started. Bulma realized right then and there just
how distracting it was to try and brood and intercept a barrage of inquiries at
the same time. It was a real eye opener for her.

"He stood you up. What do you see in him, Bulma?" Yamcha piped up.

"It's none of your business."

"He's not even your type."

She shot him a hard look. "Who precisely is my type? You?"

"Yeah, me," he said defensively. "I'm a great catch. I'm tall, have a
great personality and I know just how to treat a woman right."

"Is that a fact." She released a bitter snort, "Huh. And I thought Vegeta
had the over-inflated ego."

Definitely resenting any comparison between himself and the brash Saiyan,
Yamcha's face flushed in anger. He settled into a moody silence for awhile and
just as Bulma's thoughts began to drift again he brought her back to reality
with, "You never told them, did you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your parents. They don't know anything about what Vegeta has done in the
past, do they? All of those horrible things, all those people he's killed. You
lied to them."

Struggling with her indignation, she managed to say in a level voice, "I
told them what was relevant; we met him on Namek and he helped us out, which was
the truth. Telling them the rest would have accomplished nothing."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I think your parents deserve to
know that they have a cold-blooded killer living in their house who could go
ballistic at any time and level the damned city, Bulma! What the hell were you
thinking by not warning them?"

"Vegeta has changed, Yamcha. He became different when he got wished back-"

"I also got wished back. Do you remember how I died? I got slaughtered
because that little bastard tried to take over the Earth. Does any of that ring
a bell?" He was close to shouting now in his growing rage. Head's were starting
to turn and she wrestled him over to a tree to try and calm him down.

"I was devastated when you died, Yamcha," she said sincerely, looking up
into his anguished face. "I was inconsolable. I had dreams of us getting married
and having children and living happily ever after. Why else would I have risked
my life to travel to Namek in the hopes of retrieving the Dragonballs and
wishing you back into my life?"

His mouth worked as he struggled for words. Finally, he was able to get
out, "What happened, Bulma? What changed?"

"Nothing. Everything," she confessed unhappily. "I went through hell on
Namek. We all did. Me, Gohan, Krillin. Especially Vegeta. Gokou and Piccolo
arrived too late to really offer any kind of assistance. We were on our own. But
at the same time that spoiled little part of me finally gave away and I found my
own independence. It was a real shock to be on my own, and I liked it."

"It doesn't explain your fascination with someone like Vegeta," he said
bitterly.

"Yamcha, we've been a couple since were teenagers. You're a sweet guy but
when you got wished back, you changed and not for the better." There was only
brutal honestly in her softly spoken words but the young fighter didn't bridle
very well as he started fidgeting in place. "You wanted to play the field, see
other women, the thought of commitment was the furthest thing from your mind. I
realized that and I let you go." Bulma chewed the inside of her cheek as she
looked out into the park and Yamcha knew who she was searching for. "Vegeta was
tortured to death by that monster Frieza and when he came back he was different,
in a good way. The cruelty got beaten out of him. I think he genuinely wants to
help the Earth this time but doesn't know really what to do or how to go about
it. He needs me now, Yamcha. You don't anymore. You haven't for a very long time
and that's what I do best; Help people. That need, that desperation is what
attracts me to him."

Baring his teeth at her, Yamcha hissed, "You're being a love struck idiot!
He's evil and untrustworthy and you're placing the entire Western Capital in
jeopardy by letting him stay here. He's going to kill you all!"

"Don't make accusations about someone you don't even know," she said, on
the edge of serious anger herself. "I can understand that you're jealous,
Yamcha, but for god's sake can you try to pretend to be a man for once?"

He grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. "I'm just trying to stop
you from making a serious mistake. Give me another chance, Bulma. Please!"

"Would you be acting so desperate if I were attracted to someone else
other than Vegeta?" she asked in a hard voice, her blue eyes boring into his
own.

Yamcha couldn't come up with the words for a rebuttal and she pulled her
arm free. "I didn't think so. We are through, Yamcha. You didn't know what it
was that you wanted before and that hasn't changed now."

"He's only going to hurt you!" he yelled at her.

"No one could hurt me as badly as you did!" she screamed back and sprinted
away as tears came to her eyes. He watched her anguished retreat, his hands
clenched into fists by his sides and his scarred face twisted with bitter hate.

"Vegeta," he growled.

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Chapter Six: It's the inevitable First Kiss between Vegeta and Bulma!
Unfortunately, Yamcha has had enough and turns to her parents with the true past
of the evil Saiyan hoping to cause conflict. It works with disastrous results!