Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Heartless ❯ Insult to Injury ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Heartless

Chapter 2: Injury to Insult

Bulma ran into her house, biting back the sobs that were fighting to accompany her streaming tears. She held her right hand, trying to stop the throbbing pain. She thought she actually broke a knuckle. How she had managed to drive home still amazed her.

Her parents were asleep, so she went to the medic room to treat herself. She cursed as she stumbled through the dark house, stubbing the same toe more than once. Injury to insult.

She threw open the door and was surprised to see the lights on. There was Vegeta, stemming the blood flow of a nasty cut on his leg. So intent was he that he was actually startled by Bulma's violent entrance.

"What's the matter with you, woman? All you can talk about is human courtesies, but you never use them."

Bulma, for once, ignored him. She wasn't in the mood for an argument. She had had about as much as she could take. Right then all men were scum. She swept past him without a word, leaving him almost disappointed. Almost.

Treating her right hand was awkward, and in her blind fury she couldn't remember how to operate the bone knitter. Finally, truly overcome, not caring about anything, save her own grief, she slid to the floor and cried.

`How could he do that to me? There he was, laughing away with a girl who couldn't be any older than nineteen. Lying to me. Cheating on me-and he didn't even know the girl's name. And then, having the audacity to apologize, and then to break my fist with his face.'

Unwittingly, she clenched her fist in rage, and then, mercifully, passed out from the pain.

*****

Yamcha slouched into his apartment. He'd really blown it. He couldn't believe Bulma's rage, or the other girl's stupidity. The other girl actually believed he was cheating on her with Bulma, and it was their first date.

Their only date. Yamcha had left her enough money for the movie, popcorn, and a drink-for she still wanted to continue the date-and went home.

Home was actually a nice little bachelor's place in a good part of town. No junk for a baseball player. He'd lost his house sometime during his death, which was now believed to be a faked death as an excuse for a vacation, or a career boost.

Career boost or not, it was murder to his personal life. Things had soured between him and Bulma, and he didn't quite know how to make things right.

Whenever he was around her, he always tried to be charming. Maybe she was now seeing his attitude for what it really was-a mask. Not that he didn't love her. He did. But he couldn't allow himself to be vulnerable. Any desert bandit could tell you that.

But he wasn't a desert bandit any longer. And he had hidden far too long behind his charm. Bulma was the only one for him, he knew beyond even a hint of a shadow of a doubt. And he had to completely open up to her, before he lost her.

Having made up his mind, disregarding all thoughts of sleep, Yamcha sat down to write Bulma a long letter.

*****

Bulma awakened in a dark room, which she quickly realized was her bedroom. It took a while to get her bearings. She was in her bed, still in her regular clothes. Her hand was mended. Her parents were asleep. No one else was in the house, except…

"Vegeta?"

"What is it, woman?"

Bulma barely bit back a scream. How long had she been unconscious? How long had he been standing there? Excellent questions, but none of them reached her mouth.

She could now see his eyes in the dark, practically glowing with intense energy. It was as if nothing short of exploding could ever truly satisfy him. For the short time she had known him, he had seemed absolutely bent on one goal or another. Now-he seemed confused. And alone.

Lonely. She was so lonely. For so long, Yamcha had not been-there. He and everyone else was so busy training, something she could not help with, or share in. No one had been by to see her in months. And Yamcha sometimes went days without talking to her. And her parents weren't very inspiring company, and had started traveling more recently. In fact, she went days without seeing anyone…

Except Vegeta.

The two stood staring at each other, current running between them. It was wordless, yet completely understood. It made sense. It fit. They were-complete.

And together.

For the rest of the night.

*****

Vegeta slept and, for the first time in years, didn't have nightmares. He knew he'd found his mate. They'd-connected. Of course, this wasn't love. Vegeta felt he couldn't love anymore. This was-necessity. They had recognized in each other matching qualities, as well as needs. He knew what he'd committed himself to. Saiyans mated for life, however long or short that may be. But he was determined not to die, so he knew he was in this for the long haul.

Vegeta awakened to find the woman gone. He glanced at the alarm clock, took a minute to understand the alien numbers, and realized it was 9:00. Of course she was up. As should he. He jumped out of bed, showered, and dressed in the gi he'd worn the night before. Good lord, was there a spring in his step? He'd have to check that.

He walked down the hallway to demand breakfast, and stopped short.

"Oh, Yamcha, these roses are beautiful! And this letter…I love you!"

"I love you, Bulma. And I'm sorry. You're the only one for me-forever."

White-hot rage filled Vegeta as he heard these disgusting words. He'd forgotten how casual human liaisons were. He'd thought last night had meant more than it actually had. But he wasn't going to be made the fool. He'd leave. No distractions in space. He'd return for the androids, but he couldn't stay here. Not now.

Vegeta crossed the area in front of the living room, headed for the lab to find the old man.

"Hey, Vegeta," Yamcha said brightly, too incredibly happy to think badly of anyone. Bulma, on the other hand, stiffened, her smile frozen in place. She didn't want to admit having slept with him. Not when she had just gotten her real boyfriend back.

Vegeta merely smirked and chuckled bitterly. "And they call me heartless."

As the prince swept out of the room, Yamcha's gaze of confusion and disgust followed him. "What's with him?"

Bulma laughed nervously. "Oh, you know Vegeta." And she quickly changed the subject.