Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Monkey ❯ Pity Fest ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, but if anyone wants to give me Vegeta for my birthday, I wouldn't oppose the idea.

A/N: I'm ashamed to say that I have used the C word in this chapter. I don't like it, but it seemed the best choice to get Bulma good and mad. Vegeta has already called her everything else and she barely bats an eye. This is my warning and I'm sorry if this upsets anyone. If it makes you feel better, I'm offended on your behalf.

Chapter Three

Pity Fest

Bulma sighed deeply as she collapsed into her chair in her private office. She was bone weary and jet lagged from her trip. She had just returned from a four day conference where she had spoken in length about her newest, mind-boggling, proposal. Space travel. She was the first human, who had built a theoretically sound, space worthy vessel. She grimaced at the thought. She said theoretically, because she dared not mention the enlarged pod she had sent Goku, Gohan and Krillan off in and her new ship was still untested.

After the battle with the Saiyans, she had been inconsolable. Her friends and her lover were dead with no way to revive them. With the revelation of the planet Namek everyone had been ecstatic, but reality quickly squashed their elation. How would they ever get to another world? They didn't have the time for her to build a ship from scrap, so she had to scavenge parts from the pods that brought the invading aliens, just barely sneaking them out from under the military's nose. Though it was a closely guarded secret, the world's governments were very aware that two unidentified objects had entered their air space only hours before the chaos that erupted when Vegeta and Nappa had appeared. Their greedy little fingers itched to get a hold of anything related to the rampaging strangers and they were very disappointed in their failure to locate the ships.

Therefore, the existence of Capsule Corporation's involvement with the aliens and more importantly their technology was top secret. You can't steal from the government and expect them to pat you on the head afterwards, even if they technically didn't have possession of the desired object.

The fear of discovery did nothing to sway her from building a second ship. This one was one hundred percent original. All materials were components of Earth. They were just a little bit ahead of their time, but CC had always produced revolutionary technology before anyone else. Just look at their capsulation process. Now it was integrated into every household throughout the world and the secret of its origin would never pass her father's lips.

Bulma was feeling restless. That was the real reason for the construction of her precious second ship, Isis. She had already seen everything that there was to see here on Earth. The last frontier really was space, no matter how Star Trekky it sounded. She wanted to probe the outer limits of her imagination, just like she had as a teenager.

Her initial excitement at the prospect of exploring space had waned as she peered into the sly faces of the various political leaders. Debate had broken out almost immediately amongst the differing factions, each vying for the upper hand. Some of the more enlightened leaders wanted to use the technology to extend their hand in friendship to any nearby sentient life, while the more iron-handed dictators wanted to invest in creating a fleet to conquer worlds with valuable resources. Others were frightened of the repercussions meeting other cultures could bring, such as disease or war. While the more close-minded members refused to even believe in the existence of aliens, thus rendering the topic of exploration invalid.

A very Vegeta like smirk had formed on her ruby lips, stunning a nearby diplomat who was drooling over her when a foreign emissary had let that little gem drop. Aliens did not exist. They were the creation of overactive sixteen year old boy's minds. How they would change their tune if they knew what she kept in her basement lab, prowling his cell like a caged tiger. She played with the top button to her blouse, almost giving the diplomat a nose bleed while she thought about her prisoner. She licked her lips while she imagined his steel corded muscles flexing under her questing fingers. She shook her head in disgust and turned her attention to more pressing matters. She hoped that he hadn't terrorized too many of her people while she was away.

In the end, it was decided that discussion for space exploration would be opened up again in six months and until then Capsule Corporation's project would be closely monitored by the military. Bulma had protested vehemently, but she had been overridden. She returned to the comfort of her home, a headache at the stress of the last few days, pounding at her skull. She would need to contact her litigation department to see if they could dig her out of the hole she dumped herself in, but she had little hope. Once her government issued an order there was very little that could be done to counteract them.

To make matters worse they had sent a military liaison to accompany her back to her labs. She had spent the last half of the day showing him around her new ship. General Lee was a cold, war hardened man who struck her as more than a little xenophobic as well as chauvinistic. Though he didn't come right out and say it, Bulma sensed that he would prefer it if women stayed at home and kept the house, no matter how intelligent they were.

His sidelong glances and disrespectful sneers were enough to put her teeth on edge. He questioned her work repeatedly throughout the day, displaying next to no scientific knowledge while still maintaining an air of superiority. He managed to leave her with the unsettling feeling that he knew she had stolen the space pods away from the military, though he couldn't prove it. Although she had utilized some of the information she had gleaned from the ships, her vessel was completely her design, but its creation left many people suspicious. As General Lee left for the day, Bulma had felt a knot of dread tighten in the pit of her stomach. She knew whatever he reported back to the government committee that had been appointed to oversee this project would not be favorable.

She dropped her head onto her desk, pressing her forehead against the cool surface. General Lee would be back at the end of the week to check on her progress and she was already thinking of ways to avoid him. She would pass him off to Yamshita, the head of the marketing department. He was competent, if not a little on the brown-nosing side, but what could she expect from a man whose job was to sell people on his product. His social skills were exactly what they needed while dealing with the arrogant general. Right now all she wanted to do was get some sleep. She cradled her head in her arms, her eyes slowly drifting shut.

"Ms Briefs! I'm so glad that you are back." Her door banged against the wall and Bulma bolted upright in her chair. She blinked as she blurrily focused on the intruder. Asuka, her assistant, stood in the open portal, her hair in disarray and her cheeks flushed.

"What the hell?" Bulma asked the visibly upset woman, but the answer was already forming in the back of her mind. That damn Saiyan.

"I'm sorry, Ms Briefs, but he's yelling for you." The woman panted, still slightly out of breath from rushing to her boss' office. The alien was throwing a first class hissy fit, terrifying everyone in the lab and Asuka had done the first thing she could think of. Well the second thing. Running for her mama was out of the question, but Bulma would do in a pinch.

Bulma growled furiously, slamming her palms on her desk as she shot up from her chair. Asuka's eyes grew round as she flattened herself against the door to allow her infuriated superior to rush by. She watched Bulma stalk down the hallway, shaking her head in awe. She didn't understand why her boss wasn't afraid of ferocious man, but she supposed it was for the best. Somebody needed to handle him and she preferred that it wasn't her.

Vegeta paced his tiny cell, his tail swishing angrily behind him. She had been gone for four days. She told him that she would be absent and he had threatened her with death if she left without fixing his cell, but she had ignored him. He had waited silently, boredom eating at him until he thought he would go insane. He hadn't realized how much he had come to rely on her presence and her razor tongue to keep him entertained while he wasted away in this prison.

She was supposed to be back by now, but she had not made an appearance all day. Finally, his thin patience had snapped and he roared at the scurrying scientists, demanding that they fetch the blue-haired witch immediately. She needed to be here, building him a new cage that wasn't slowly killing him, but she had apparently forgotten her feeble promises.

Feh, he shouldn't be surprised he thought to himself. He knew that she was out to kill him since the beginning, but he honestly didn't think she would be so cruel as to watch him linger at death's door indefinitely. He was foolish to believe that she would grant him a quick death and not study his slow demise.

The outer door slid open and the demon queen in question, swept into the room like royalty. She stalked up to his cell stopping only centimeters away from him, the invisible wall giving the illusion that he could reach out and touch her. She balled her fists on her hips and leaned forward slightly, sneering at him with disdain.

"What the fuck is your problem now, Vegeta?" She demanded, the rush of anger in her veins sharpening her sleep deprived senses. After the fruitless events at the conference she could use a good fight to release her pent up aggression.

Vegeta eyed her warily. He had never seen the woman so hostile, not even when he had first been brought here. Perhaps her little meeting that she had been so excited about hadn't gone well. It would serve her right, the money grubbing bitch. Amidst his deprecating thoughts he didn't fail to notice how her skinned glowed when she was angry. Her cerulean eyes glinted like blades of ice and he felt his tail waving behind him in excitement.

"You are my problem!" He snarled evilly, while turning away to kick the mangled cot in the corner.

Bulma had experienced an unexpected dilemma after their confrontation nearly a week ago. She had hurriedly constructed his cell while he had lain unconscious from the serum she had dosed him with and unfortunately she hadn't foreseen several design flaws. One of which being the force field that kept Vegeta caged. There were only two ways to deactivate it. Either the entire wall came down or a small section on the bottom right hand corner disengaged. The hole was just large enough to slip a plate of food into, but it was by no means large enough to fit another cot through and Bulma was unwilling to take down the entire wall to replace the bed.

She had finally decided on leaving him to sleep on the floor, giving him extra bedding for padding. She promised him a bigger bed in his new cell, but for now he had to suffer with the consequences of his mindless actions.

"Look at yourself. Throwing a tantrum like a ten year old. Didn't your mother teach you any manners when you were a kid or have you always been a little bastard?" She hissed, disgusted by his violent behavior. It seemed that anger was the only emotion he could express and woe to anything that was in his reach when he did so.

He whirled around, maneuvering as close as he dared and if it wasn't for the force field she knew that she would be able to feel his hot breath on her face. His voice dropped down into a deadly pitch as he merciless eyes peered into hers. "You have no idea how many people I killed by the time I was ten. The only 'manners' that I learned as a child, were how to bow in subservience to a sadistic snake and take a beating like a man."

Bulma gulped and a cold sweat broke out on her entire body. His obsidian eyes were red-rimmed with madness and his pupils were pinpoints of flame. She could see the fires of destruction burning in the deep pits and she was afraid that if she stared long enough she might be able to see his bloody, brutal past in the shadows of his soul. She jerked her eyes away, glaring down at her feet. So many questions bubbled inside of her, but she suppressed her natural urge to ask them. She wanted to know what had happened to him to make him into such a remorseless monster. Who was this snake he spoke of? How had he gotten so many scars?

"Well I'm not denying that you are a beast," she mumbled brokenly before raising her head again. She saw the flash in triumph in his eyes. She had looked away first and his words had splintered her anger. She hardened herself against him once again, repeating her original question, abet without as much venom this time.

"What do you want Vegeta?"

I WANT you to fix my cell. Unless you really do intend to watch me die slowly." He hissed vindictively.

Bulma's expressive blue eyes roved over the hard planes of Vegeta's face, taking in his haggard appearance. His skin had a yellow pallor and dark hollows had formed under his sunken eyes, making it appear as though his sockets were deeper than they actually were. Guilt stuck her full force as she cataloged the physical proof of his failing health. She hooded her eyes, not wanting him to see the pity that was surfacing again.

"Of course." She whispered, hiding her face behind the fall of aqua hued tresses and his fingers itched to reach out and touch her hair. He wanted to know if it was as silky as it looked. His life had always been full of course sensations and sharp angles. He never had the opportunity to feel something soft and rounded before. He frowned down at her, squashing his absurd thoughts.

"Bulma Brazier Briefs!" She stiffened, her head darting back up and her eyes locking with Vegeta's. He cocked an eyebrow, mouthing her middle name mockingly and she pulled a face in response before she spun on her heel to confront the newest attack.

"Yes papa?" She chirped, her hands finding their way behind her back, to twist in agitation. Vegeta's lips quirked in amusement and looked over her shoulder to see a purple-haired man standing at the door, a halo of smoke around his head. His clothes were rumbled and he had the look of a scatterbrained scientist. If this man was the woman's father, then that explained a lot about her, Vegeta thought mockingly. Mr. Briefs strode up to Bulma, waving papers in the air haphazardly, his assistant scurrying behind him, picking up any loose documents that fluttered to the ground.

"What have you done now, young lady?" The man gave her a hard look and she gulped.

"Nothing daddy. I haven't done a thing." Behind her she could hear Vegeta snort at her cajoling tone and she had to resist the urge to snarl at him. Vegeta could think of one or two things she had done recently that deserved a spanking. An image of her draped over his lap with her skirt tossed up over her head formed in his mind.

"Then why do I have government representatives calling my office. Telling me that they are going to come down here and audit our work? We are a private corporation, Bulma. We do not involve ourselves with those people!" Nothing upset her father more than having his routine disrupted. He could care less that the government was sticking their nose where it shouldn't belong, but come hell or high water, they were not going to dictate what he could experiment on.

"What's the matter? Did the dumb bitch fuck it up? Why am I not surprised?" Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, smirking wickedly at the Briefs. Watching the woman being chided by her father was very entertaining to him. It was almost worth waiting for four days with nothing to do, just to witness this.

Bulma whipped around, sticking her tongue at the intrusive Saiyan. His smirk only grew wider and she wanted to smack herself in the forehead for her childish behavior. Better yet she wanted to smack him. Dumb bitch, indeed! A certain monkey was going to wake up tail-less one day if he wasn't careful. There was something about her father yelling at her that made her feel like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. She turned back around to see her father's blanched expression. He realized belatedly, that the alien his daughter had captured was staring at him, disgust evident in his black eyes.

He had avoided coming into her department for precisely this reason. He didn't agree with Bulma's decision to cage the powerful man. He feared for her safety, should the killer get free, but he understood her reasoning. They were the only people on the planet that had the facilities to house such a dangerous animal. That aside, he preferred to avoid this room all together. He couldn't stop the shivers that crept down his spine whenever he looked at the prisoner.

Bulma grabbed her father by the arm leading him to the door. "Don't worry papa, I will take care of the government. We had to talk to them sooner of later once we started making contact with other species. They would have to be involved if we were to start trade and diplomatic relations."

Her father sighed, allowing her to lead him to the door. "I know honey, but they are just so pushy. I don't like it one bit. They think they can come in and help themselves to anything they want."

"I know papa. Don't worry, I will take care of it." She promised.

He nodded and he stepped through the doorway, turning back to look at her with concern etched on his face. "You look exhausted honey. Why don't you come have dinner with your mother and me. She has missed you terribly, you know? You have been working so hard lately. You need to take a break before you collapse."

"Not tonight papa. I have work to do." She shook her head sadly at him.

"It can wait, Bulma. Take a break for the night."

"No it can't wait. I promise I will take a vacation after I have finished everything. I will take a nice long cruise and relax." She smiled softly and pushed her father out the door.

She strode up to far counter to start the coffee pot. She knew that she would not be getting any rest this night and she would need to rely on the caffeine to get her through it.

Vegeta blinked as he watched the woman make her drink. He hadn't expected her to capitulate so easily. She had rushed into the room so full of fire that he thought for sure their argument would last beyond one or two barbs. Then her father had come, disrupting them and trying to lead her away from her duties. He could see her weariness permeating every fiber of her being and he was certain that she was going to walk off with her parent, but she had stayed behind, true to her word. He shrugged satisfied for the moment that she was doing his bidding. He glared at the remaining scientists that had stayed behind to watch the fireworks. Instantly, they began to gather up their belongings, murmuring their goodnights to their boss who nodded half-heartedly back at them.

Cup in hand, Bulma moved over to her desk, sipping her coffee while she shifted through her papers. She worked steadily for some hours, but her exhaustion was weighing on her heavily. She glanced up to see Vegeta sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. He had his knees drawn up and his head was resting on his draped arms. She looked down, catching sight of the framed photo that graced her desk.

She picked up the picture, gently tracing the lines. It was a photograph of her and Yamcha, just before Raditz had arrived. They had been so happy then, two kids in love. Then the threat of the Saiyans had made itself known and he had gone off to train, leaving her alone with her fanatical research. All of his training had been for naught and he had died in the battle. She glanced around at the stacks of papers and plans that littered her desk. She had been completely obsessed with her work for the last fifteen months and she felt an aching in her heart unfurl. She wished she could go back and be the carefree girl that she used to be, not stuck here working all of the time. She wanted her friends back, her easy life and most of all she wanted her boyfriend.

Her vision blurred as tears threatened to fall, but they were quickly staunched by a rough voice. "What are you mewling about you weakling?" Her eyes darted up, glaring at Vegeta who still sat on the floor, with one leg now extended.

"I miss my boyfriend." She stared coldly at the man that had stolen her first and only love away from her. Vegeta returned her look with disinterest.

"What is a boyfriend?" He questioned out of sheer boredom. The ennui of the last few hours was nerve wracking. He had debated whether or not to disturb the blue-haired hag, but he wanted her to finish up her work quickly. Though she had yet to realize it, his life was hanging in the balance. He estimated that he could survive another month maybe, under the harsh glow of the life sucking force field. At this point he didn't care if she stuck him in an overflowing outhouse as long as she fixed the problem. When her soft sniffling had reached his ears he had taken the opportunity to entertain himself, figuring if she was going to take a break she might as well provide him with some amusement.

Bulma blinked at him for a moment, dumbfounded at his question. It took her a moment to realize that the word boyfriend may not translate into his language.

"Well it's someone that you spend time with."

He cocked his head to the side. "Like a battle comrade?"

She blushed lightly dropping her eyes away from his. "No, more like an intimate companion." She replied.

He watched her fluctuating emotions carefully before finally sighing in disgust. "Oh, a mate." He stated, losing interest in the topic. He didn't want to hear about her relationships with another male, not that he cared one way or another. Though, an insistent voice inside his head was very curious if she was feeling 'frustrated'.

"Sort of, but you're not married." She watched him closely while he tipped his head back to rest against the steel wall, his eyes sliding closed.

"What is married?" He had a sneaking suspicion as to what it meant, but he wasn't sure. He continued the inane conversation with her in the hopes that she would let something slip that he could use to start an argument with her. That was the perfect cure for his boredom, short of being set free from his prison.

It was her turn to cock her head to the side. Did his language not have a word for marriage either?

"When you are married to someone, it means that you are pledged to only be with them for the rest of your life." She twirled her pencil absently in her fingers, wondering if she would ever be married or if she would end up a work-aholic with a dozen fish to keep her company.

"I've heard of some races doing that. Sounds tedious to me." He brought his hand up, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve the pressure behind his eyes.

"Saiyans don't marry?" She asked curiously.

"No," was his simple reply.

Her brow furrowed while she stared at him, disturbed for some unknown reason. "But you just mentioned mates."

He lifted his head to look at her, annoyance clear in his eyes. "Every race needs to mate to procreate its species. Saiyans do not engage in long term bonds though. We merely choose an attractive partner and fuck, long and hard, until a brat is conceived."

His dark seductive gaze and velvety tone sent shivers down her spine. The sinful way he said fuck made her think that he was talking about her in some way. Her cheeks heated up and she looked away, her eyes locking onto the photo of Yamcha once again.

Vegeta rolled his eyes at himself. What was he doing? He needed to get out of this cage soon or he was going to start getting lustful ideas about the bathroom sink. He rubbed his face, standing up so he could stretch his muscles.

"Well, when you get done constructing my new prison, you can run off and play with your boyfriend all you want." He hissed scornfully. Bulma's shocked blue eyes shot up to stare at him incredulously, but his back was turned as he rotated his shoulder to work out a nasty kink.

"You killed him you ass!" She snarled vehemently causing him to turn around and look at her with a cocked eyebrow. She was standing up behind her desk now, clutching the picture in her hands. "You killed him and I will never be happy again!" She wailed dramatically and he winced at her volume.

"Oh shut up human. You act like you are the only one in the universe who has suffered loss." He growled at her.

"What do you know of it, you jerk? All you ever do is take. I bet you never lost anything precious in your life." She was full of righteous indignation now and Vegeta fought the urge to rub his aching head. This female was the most frustrating that he had the displeasure of meeting in a long time. Her mercurial mood swings were disconcerting even for the hardened warrior.

"You want to talk about loss? How about having your father hand you over to a tyrant in order to save your race, only to have it be in vain? How about having your entire world destroyed by a meteor shower? How about staring at yourself in the mirror and knowing you are the last of your kind left?" He shook his fist, glaring murderously at her pale countenance. This woman and her inconsequential problems inflamed him. She whined over nothing. What did she know of pain? Of Suffering? Of all the things he had to endure in one life time that should have never been heaped on ten? She knew nothing but her small petty world.

Bulma trembled as his words rained down on her. How would she bear it if Earth was destroyed? Could she survive is she was last of her race?

"What about Goku?"

"That third class is a disgrace to his heritage and he is dead to me." Vegeta growled with finality.

"What about…" Vegeta cut of her words with a slash of his hand, his black eyes burning holes of scorn into her flesh.

"Shut your ugly mouth, cunt. I will hear no more of your whining."

White hot anger spiked through her brain, causing a reflex action that Bulma had long since despaired of ever curing. Sarcasm.

"Well if you hadn't thoughtlessly murdered your bald friend, maybe you wouldn't be so alone now, at the mercy of this 'dumb bitch'. Although he's probably relieved that he doesn't have to put up with your rude, scrawny ass in the next dimension, along with the rest of your race." Bulma snapped her jaw shut, turning her back on the Saiyan prince. She gathered up her files and stomped out of the lab, leaving him to stew in his vindictive thoughts.