Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Learning to Love ❯ Chapter 4

Edited April 8, 2008

Okay, there was a scene deleted from this chapter somehow in uploading it. For those who can remember the wake up call, sorry! To those who have no idea what I'm talking about, it's no huge deal. My beta reader and I had this scene with the girls getting icy water dumped on them for missing that 7AM appointment with Vegeta. Shouldn't really have an impact on the storyline, but if so, I'll let you guys know.

 

Hi everyone! It's been a long time, I know. But it's a REALLY long chapter to make up for that. There's the slightest hint of lime in here to sate some of you that have been asking for it; you know who you are, you pervs, LOL.

 

Disclaimer: What kind of person goes around reading all these stories to see if anyone claims to own DBZ? And I thought my job sucked. I don't own DBZ...or that's what my shrink keeps on telling me anyway.

 

Learning to Love: Chapter Four

 

 

The Next Evening

 

Bulma capsulated all of her purchases and on a last minute decision, her purse also. "That was 19,500 SMUS well spent in my opinion." Turning to her best friend, she smiled, "Aren't you glad you bought all that stuff Chi?"

 

Chichi laughed a little nervously. "I've just never spent that much on just clothes in one day before."

 

"Oh live a little," Bulma scolded, waiting as her assistant capsulated her own purchases.

 

Earlier that morning, the King had given them their Identification passes, which had their classifications on them, as their first pay check.

 

The money had been burning a hole in Bulma's pockets all morning and she'd dragged a very reluctant Chichi along to explore the Vegetaseii marketplace. Her opinion of the planet had risen exponentially that day. The buildings in the city were a beautiful mix of architectural styles from all over the world. The marketplace reminded her so much of home that she forgot completely that she was, in a sense, `not in Kansas anymore', that is until one of Vegetaseii's suns reflected down onto Chichi's silver translator bracelet, blinding her for a moment.

 

The two women attracted attention from the Saiyan and other races of beings walking the streets, but no one harassed them. She and Chichi ate lunch in the plaza, sitting down near the beautiful fountain there, and not realizing until they walked away that on the other side of the fountain there was a statue of the current King of Vegetaseii.

 

“He looks so serious,” Chichi had commented, tilting her head as she looked up into the statue's non-smiling face.

 

Bulma had shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand, her own face thoughtful as she'd noticed a small plaque at the foot of the statue. “He's always serious,” she'd replied, nearing the statue for a better look.

 

The plaque read: May this statue serve as a monument to the great Vegeta XII. Made with care and the utmost gratitude from the occupants of planet Trotaria.

 

This had sprung several questions in her mind. For a moment, she even questioned her own dislike of the man. But before she could dwell on it much longer, Chichi had dragged her away toward a shop selling clothing for the elite.

 

Bulma had gone a little crazy there; wanting to try almost everything on, but knowing she would scare her friend off of shopping forever if she did, not to mention annoy the crap out of the vendor. In the end, she wound up buying two outfits that used up her paycheck and them some-fortunately they'd exchanged their earth money earlier that day.

 

They'd stood in the plaza and watched the sun set, not wanting the day to end.

 

Her assistant had smiled. “It doesn't have to; let's go find a club or something."

 

Which brings us to the present; Bulma stepped into one of the Teleportation Units (which in her opinion looked an awful lot like those phone booths people used long, long ago) and searched the posted directory for a place under the heading 'entertainment'.

 

The blue-eyed female chuckled as she found a club bold enough to simply call itself 'The Club'. "Let's check out The Club, Chichi," she called over to her friend in the TU next to hers. She pressed the appropriate button, held her breath, and closed her eyes as she felt as though she was flying through the air. A faint, 'ding' indicated that she had reached her destination.

 

The distant sounds of people cheering, glass breaking, and music shaking the walls were all signs that they were indeed at a club; unfortunately, they couldn't see a thing anywhere outside of the faint light inside of the TU.

 

“What the hell?” Chichi asked aloud, her voice echoing since she was still standing in her TU.

 

Bulma stepped out of hers holding her hands out to feel around in the darkness. "Where the hell is-"

 

"Hey," a short haired Saiyan yelled as he opened a door adjoined to the room, letting in a stream of multicolored light. Bulma looked at him, and faintly heard rustling behind her as Chichi approached. "Let me see your ID cards before you two even think about coming in here."

 

Bulma smiled, relieved that she had left hers in her pocket. She handed it to him, almost tapping her foot in impatience as he checked her clearance. "She's with me."

 

"All right, all right, go on in," he grumbled, handing her back the card, and letting them pass.

 

As they made their way into The Club's semi-dark recesses, Bulma wasn't sure where to look first; there were things of interest all around. There was a brightly lit bar (with a neon sign posted that said “5 drink limit: no exceptions”), a crowded dance floor with a smallish strobe light right out of the 1980's, a section of the room where couples were wrapped up in each other, another area with couches where there were groups of singles chatting and laughing amongst themselves, a small dining eating, and a few games that no one was playing.

 

"Do you think we should split up?" Chichi yelled over the loud music.

 

"Yeah," Bulma answered, "But let's stay kind of within each other's sights, just to be safe."

 

Chichi shot her a thumbs up and then weaved through the dancing couples on the dance floor so that she was near a solitary, handsome young Saiyan. They began to talk earnestly, much to Bulma's amusement. A tap on her shoulder startled her and she spun around, ready for the worst.

 

"You!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

 

"Looking for a good time, just the same as you are I warrant."

 

Bulma blushed and tried to be as polite as possible. "I'm sorry if that sounded rude Lord Vegeta. I'm just a little surprised to see you here of all places."

 

The former King chuckled, waving a hand dismissively at her apology. "That's both of us then. Of course, I saw you first so I had a chance to recover before you did."

 

Bulma smiled sheepishly. "I believe you're laughing at me, sir."

 

The old Saiyan's tail flicked from side to side lazily. "Never. You are far too beautiful to laugh at. No, what you deserve is to be desired and lavished with attention," he told her, his lips twitching in amusement.

 

She blushed again. "Now you're embarrassing me."

 

Lord Vegeta smirked, startling her in that moment with just how similar in appearance he was to his son. "I know." He arched his brows. "Have you seen Anyla while you've been here? Or is she off somewhere upholding her title as The Big Easy?"

 

The earth woman swatted his arm, her eyes glowing with amusement. "No, I haven't seen her. She's probably tagging along after your son," she answered, frowning at this possibility, but with no real clue as to why.

 

Lord Vegeta chuckled as he came to his own conclusions. "Surely the boy doesn't bother you that much," he joked.

 

His companion merely snorted in an unladylike fashion, causing him to laugh out loud. "All right, I admit the boy's a handful…and then some. I've had to put up with him all of his life. I know he isn't as likable as me, but he isn't half bad if you can get on his good side and once you get to know him."

 

"I'm sure he will be glad to hear you say so," Kakkarot drawled lazily, brushing lightly past Bulma. He smiled at her briefly then turned back to the older Vegeta, "You can tell Vegeta yourself if you want."

 

"Tell me what?" a cold voice asked.

 

Bulma cursed inwardly as she instinctively turned to that voice, her heart beating a little faster and tension entering her body. The King's eyes rested her and trailed slowly up her body from her black platforms to the dark purple top and black skirt she wore. When he finally met her eyes, she was glaring at him, her cheeks tinged pink with anger and embarrassment. His expression bored, he turned to his guard. "Well? What were you going to tell me Kakkarot?"

 

His officer smirked as Lord Vegeta virtually squirmed in discomfort. "Your father was merely suggesting to Bulma that you're not as bad as you act sometimes."

 

The King blinked, momentarily stunned speechless-much to his guard's and Bulma's amusement. "Father if you were half as useful as you are bothersome-"

 

Lord Vegeta grinned sheepishly. "I was just trying to make you look better in the girl's eyes. Hells, she practically sees you in the same light as she sees that bitchy fiancé of yours."

 

Vegeta's eyes rested on Bulma's and he raised his eyebrows as if to ask her if this statement was true. It was her turn to ignore him; she turned to Kakkarot. "So, why are all three of you here? Is this some sort of coincidence or something?"

 

The guard's eyes briefly went to his King. "I'm not sure if I can say..."

 

King Vegeta shrugged his shoulders, his face devoid of any emotion, save slight irritation. "You may as well go ahead and tell her."

 

"We think Anyla's meeting somebody-one of our enemies-here tonight."

 

"That wouldn't surprise me in the least; she's just that kind of person. I'm curious to one thing though," She paused, a curious look on her face as she turned from Lord Vegeta to King Vegeta. "How do you expect to catch her if she sees you here?"

 

Lord Vegeta sighed. "That's where I come in, I'm afraid."

 

"Don't tell me..." Bulma started disbelief in her voice. Kakkarot nodded, confirming her doubts. "You," she pointed to the older Vegeta, "Are going to impersonate your son!?"

 

Lord Vegeta sighed again, rubbing his facial hair ruefully. "You've hit the nail right on the head, which means I'm going to have to go shave and sit in the damn throne for the rest of the day...or at least until the boy brings his ass back home."

 

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Don't feign being upset father. You were practically jumping at the chance to be King again at the meeting 2 hours ago."

 

The former King `coughed', "Yeah, well, I better go shave and everything in a bathroom. I'll be coming out as the King," he chuckled. "And Vegeta will come out as me, facial hair and all. Come on boy, let's get this over with."

 

Vegeta scowled as he followed his father from the dance floor.

 

Bulma shook her head after the two of them, a tiny smile on her face. They're so alike in their mannerisms, no matter how much Vegeta tries to deny he's anything like his father. For a moment, she thought she was alone but then realized Kakkarot was still there with her, but his attention was focused elsewhere; namely, on the other side of the dance floor where Chichi was dancing with the young Saiyan from earlier.

 

She tried to distract him. "Kakkarot, aren't you supposed to be guarding the King?"

 

"What?" the guard asked, blinking his eyes a few times as he turned to look at her. "Oh. Right." He walked off in the direction the two Vegeta's had gone, squeezing past a passionately arguing couple.

 

I wonder if he likes Chichi as much as she seems to like him, she wondered, walking to the outskirts of the dance floor to avoid witnessing the scene. Then again, maybe I should worry about myself for once. Bulma took a deep breath and then walked up to a group of laughing male Saiyans. "Which one of you lucky men wants the chance to dance with me?" she asked a confident smile on her face.

 

Momentarily stunned, no one in the group immediately volunteered until one of them snapped out of it and stepped forward. "I will.' His friends watched the two of them walk onto the dance floor enviously.

 

He's not bad for my first Saiyan, she thought to herself, shooting him a winning smile as he found them a less crowded place to dance.

 

Her partner was about 26, maybe five inches taller than her, cute, but not as handsome as she would of preferred. If she wasn't so nervous, and she was thinking more clearly, she would have asked herself who she was comparing the boy with.

 

A large platform on the far-end of the room lit up and all other lights went out as a beautiful blue woman in chains began to sing a slow, sad song. With a lopsided smile, her partner awkwardly tried to put his hands on her hips. Bulma stopped him. "Let's just do it my way for now, OK?" She put his left hand on her right shoulder and his right around her waist. She followed suit, only she put her right hand on his chest to keep a little room between them.

 

A little uneasy, Bulma tried to make conversation. "So...what do you do for a living?"

 

Her partner smiled brightly. "I'm a trainer. The name's Cabbo and you're Bulma, right?"

 

"Right," she verified, smiling back. He probably was around when we first landed here on Vegetaseii, she thought to herself.

 

He nodded. "Yeah, I've heard a lot about you."

 

"Oh really?" Bulma was already starting to get bored with this Cabbo person. He was nice but he wasn't at all what she was looking for. When silence fell between them again, she took a moment to scan the other couples, looking for her best friend in the sea of dancing couples and finally finding her on the opposite side of the dance floor, dancing with Kakkarot!

 

Her heart skipped a beat. Wait, if he's out here, then where's-

 

"Shove off brat," a gruff voice commanded from behind them.

 

The trainer bowed respectfully after immediately releasing her. "I'm sorry Lord Vegeta."

He got no reply, nor did he expect one. Cabbo left the two alone.

 

Bulma turned and frowned up at 'Lord Vegeta'. "Vegeta's the big idea-"

 

"Shut up," he growled, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her to him.

 

She blushed at the close contact but complied, putting her arms around her partner's neck as best as she could. They danced without speaking, the only sounds the beautiful voice of the singer and the background noise of the other club goers.

 

More to satisfy her curiosity then fill the silence between them she posed a question that was bothering her. "Why is Kakkarot out here too?"

 

"He's supposed to be looking for Anyla."

 

"Where's your father?" the earth woman asked in a low whisper, her face close to his ear.

 

Vegeta snorted irritably. "Sitting in my throne, impersonating me, and probably acting like a damn fool."

 

Bulma moved her head back and smiled genuinely at the King. "Oh come on. He may be a little crusty, but your father isn't going to do anything as absurd as that."

 

Vegeta ignored the second 1/2 of her statement and smirked. "'Crusty'? That's a good word for him, strange, yet fitting in a way."

 

Something in his eyes at that moment made Bulma lose her train of thought…she could only stare into them mutely, her breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing.

 

Vegeta was plagued by a similar sensation as he searched her eyes, but he forced himself to regain control and looked away, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. His grip tightened slightly. "What the hells is Kakkarot doing with your assistant?"

 

The renowned scientist sighed. "I believe it's called dancing," she supplied, her tone dry.

 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he returned his attention to his dance partner. "You know what I meant," he growled.

 

"Yes, since I possess a brain, I know exactly what you meant. I was just making a joke. Kami forbid the esteemed Vegeta have a sense of humor," was her sarcastic reply.

 

The King-who looked so much like Lord Vegeta with the clothes he was wearing and the facial hair that it was eerie-frowned at her, but said nothing as he turned his attention elsewhere.

 

They danced in silence, the soulful crooning of the alien singer washing over them. Bulma took the opportunity to eye his features now that she was allowed a close-up of the Saiyan no Ou. His ebony hair was thick and lustrous, and for some reason, Bulma wanted to believe that it was soft, not spiky as it appeared, black eyebrows winged over two intense black eyes that mirrored his very soul, an aristocratic nose, and his mouth was pressed into a straight line. I wonder what it'd be like to kiss him, she thought absently, moistening her lips without realizing it. She blushed as the mouth turned into a frown and Vegeta glared down at her.

 

"What the hell are you staring at?" He growled low in his throat.

 

"You know what Vegeta, you are so..."

 

Sexy, desirable, mysterious, unpredictable, authoritarian, aloof, rude, annoying, drop dead gorgeous sex on legs…

 

"…over-reactive," she finished lamely, shocked at the words that had leapt in her mind. Where the hell did that come from!?

 

The King's frown turned into a full-fledged scowl. "How do you expect me to react when I find you-the universe's bitchiest, most annoying female-staring at me as though I was a six-course meal, and you were some kind of refugee hasn't eaten for months."

 

Annoyed at the comparison, the earth female scowled back at him. "I was merely wondering how such an ugly, egotistic bastard such as yourself ever became King."

 

"That's easy," Vegeta said, as if he hadn't heard her insults. "I became King as soon as I became stronger than my father."

 

"You're freaking impossible," Bulma seethed. She removed her hands from where they had been draped around his neck, relieved when she heard the singer finish her last note and the sounds of scattered cheering and clapping and smiled as the King seemed unaware of this; his hands still resting on her hips, "You can let me go now Vegeta. I know it's been a while since you've touched a real woman and all, but-"

 

Vegeta hastily let her go. "Your insanity must be contagious; I didn't notice when-" He stopped abruptly and grabbed Bulma's hand, pulling her deeper into the dimly lit club.

 

"What is it?" she asked as Vegeta turned her so that she was blocking him from the bar.

 

"Anyla," he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion.

 

Oh this is just peachy; an encounter with her is just what I need to top off a wonderful evening, she thought, groaning inwardly. She tried not to look at Vegeta-the last thing she wanted was a repeat of what'd happened moments ago; his eyes were too discerning. She sometimes felt as though he was looking right through her; and I think-no I know- that I hate that.

 

Bulma looked past him; to his left and to his right...then turned crimson in embarrassment. They were in the make-out area of the club; as far as she could see, there were Saiyans engrossed in heavy to light make-out sessions, so wound up in each other, they didn't notice their former monarch in their midst. Bulma closed her eyes, willing herself to think of anything else.

 

Vegeta seemed oblivious to her discomfiture. Once his attention eventually returned to his female companion, he frowned at the flushed earth woman in puzzlement. "What is it?"

 

"Nothing...it's nothing," she muttered between clenched teeth, squeezing her eyes even more tightly shut as a woman moaned loudly from somewhere nearby.

 

A minute passed, as he finally deduced the cause of her discomfort "Oh, I see what's wrong." He smirked. "What's the matter Bulma? I know you're not a prude. Could it be possible that you are jealous?"

 

She opened her eyes, at that scowling at his accusation "No, I'm not!" she denied adamantly, shivering a little at his usage of her name.

 

The Saiyan King gently pulled her closer to him and held her chin in one gloved hand; the other lightly moved the hair from her face. "Are you sure?" he whispered, the lowness of his voice and the intensity of his eyes making her shudder once again in desire. "Because all you have to do is ask..."

 

"A-ask?" she repeated, confused and mesmerized.

 

Vegeta's eyes burned with emotion as he released her chin and smirked at her mockingly. "Ask me to kiss you."

 

"What?" Bulma exclaimed, her voice shaking only slightly as she fought to control her emotions. "I don't want you to-"

 

"From what you know of me so far, what do you think my opinion is of liars Bulma?" the King purred dangerously, even as he pulled her body against his. “I know exactly what it is you want.” With his superior senses he could feel hear her heart rate and see her dilated pupils; if he was on the lookout for signs of a woman's attraction, there was no way she could hide them from him.

 

Bulma swore beneath her breath, deciding to stop denying her own impulses just this once. "Damn it Vegeta if you gloat about this later I swear to Kami I'll-"

 

The remainder of her threat was left unspoken as Vegeta lowered his head to kiss her, the contact sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. Surprised at first, Bulma only stood there, unresponsive, but she eventually regained her senses and leaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt herself being turned around and pressed against a wall, but this didn't really register until one of Vegeta's hands braced him against the wall behind her for a moment. Bulma moved her hands to his hair and smiled against his lips as she found that it was soft as she had hoped; she closed her eyes and let the feelings wash over her and take her away. She felt the King's tongue against her mouth and she gladly granted him access, moaning as she felt his tongue touch hers. Bulma unconsciously clutched the area of Vegeta's waist where his tail was wrapped tightly around him; she didn't notice his abrupt cease of movement as she did so. She leaned further still into the kiss, her tongue entering the King's mouth and exploring.

 

Vegeta almost lost control right about then; the urge to throw the female before him to the floor and take her was maddening, but he regained his composure, letting her take control. Vegeta didn't normally find any kind of pleasure in something as simple and as small as a kiss. It had actually been 10 years since his first and last kiss until now. He never kissed Anyla, not once, nor did he ever have the desire to. His `relationship' with Anyla could be considered mostly one-sided. He did his business and left. Anyla never seemed to mind; she actually seemed to enjoy it. Yet somehow all of that rutting, all of those 'quickies', every single sexual interlude he had previously participated in paled comparison to one kiss from this earth woman.

 

Bulma lost track of her surroundings. She only knew Vegeta and the pleasure she was getting from kissing him. Kisses never usually turned her on. Actually, the only man she ever kissed, Yamcha, left a lot to be desired. It was a lot like French kissing a fish, as she had complained to Chichi numerous times before his death. They'd never had sex except for once; it had been painful, awkward, and humiliating for the inexperienced Bulma and she never wanted to do it again...until now. She would have eventually repeated the painful experience with Yamcha if they ever got married but they hadn't ever even been really engaged because Yamcha suffered from an unfortunate disease called 'commitmentitis'; just thinking about commitment made him sweat.

 

But all thoughts of Yamcha were far from her mind as she wrapped her arms around the King's muscular neck, arching her back his hands slid down her back to rest on her backside. It took her a moment to notice that she was running out of oxygen; she groaned as she reluctantly pulled away. Vegeta let her go without protesting, no sign of what he was feeling, beside a brief flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

 

Bulma's cheeks were tinged pink, not in embarrassment, but in excitement; she panted slightly, watching him contemplatively from beneath her lashes. He didn't seem mad or triumphant or anything. As a matter of fact, from the look in his eyes just then she was pretty damn certain that he was feeling the same combination of gratification, astonishment, and wariness that was reflected on her own face.

 

Damage control Bulma; you just made out with a man promised to another woman, she told herself severely, schooling her features into a look of composure. "Listen Vegeta, I don't think it's-"

 

"Excuse me Lord Vegeta, but I've got to talk to Bulma," Chichi interrupted, pulling her friend to a secluded area on the other side of The Club, near the exit. Vegeta didn't even try to stop her.

 

"Bulma," she began, her black eyes narrowed, "Try to imagine my shock...no make that dismay, when I looked up from my ginger ale to see my best friend and the King's father making out as if there was no tomorrow. What the hells were you thinking?!"

 

Bulma frowned at her friend. "Chichi, who I decide to kiss is not your business. Besides, I couldn't help but notice you and Kakkarot getting chummy on the dance floor."

 

"That was different," Chichi quickly countered, putting her hands on her hips, "We weren't sucking on each other's face in public. And at least Kakkarot isn't old enough to be my father!"

 

The blue haired woman took a deep breath, and tried not to lose her temper; slowly releasing the pent up air from between pursed lips. "Chichi, mind your own damn business. I'm only going to say it once. If I want your opinion on something, I'll ask you for it. Until then stay the hell out of my affairs."

 

The raven-haired female flinched visibly and then flushed with anger. "Fine by me!" She stalked past Bulma and made an angry beeline towards the exit, brushing angrily past the bouncer.

 

"Good,” Bulma said aloud to herself, feeling childish and slightly guilty for her part in the fight. She turned to walk back toward where she'd left Vegeta on the dance floor, only to run into something hard and warm. She felt herself start to fall backwards, until two hands managed to catch her.

 

"Sorry about that love," a voice drawled with an accent that sounded like it could be Australian. A tall, blue-green man with a green braid resting on his shoulder smiled at her as he removed his hands from her sides and bowed, his cape sweeping behind him. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you before. I'm Zarbon."

 

"Oh," Bulma said, a little taken aback by the man's brazen. "I'm-".

 

"She's mine."

 

Zarbon raised his eyes from Bulma's and turned to the figure behind him. "Ah Lord Vegeta," He laughed mockingly, "I see you remember me from our last encounter." A low growl was the only response he got. Zarbon chuckled. "I can see that you're well. How is your son, by the way?"

 

Bulma watched Vegeta from beneath lowered lashes, her fingers clenched together as she grew afraid that this man would find out that the Vegeta he was talking to was the one he was talking about.

 

Vegeta shrugged dismissively, "The boy is as much a pain in my ass as always."

 

The taller man nodded. "No surprise there, some things will never change no matter how many years go by. So...how his training is coming along now that he's surpassed you?"

'Lord Vegeta' frowned, but that quickly changed into his father's characteristic look of sheepishness. "I haven't been really diligent in keeping track of him; been busy reaping the benefits of the royal harem. But my scouts tell me he isn't that much stronger than me. He's hit some kind of plateau with his power level."

 

Bulma shuddered. It was uncanny how convincing Vegeta was.

 

"A plateau," Zarbon mused, his expression thoughtful. "Well, I've got a ship to catch back to Freeze. See you around old man," he said, clapping the Saiyan on the shoulder. "No hard feelings over the concubine?" he asked, jerking his head in Bulma's direction.

 

The earth woman's eyes lit up in anger and she would have said something if Vegeta hadn't cut her off. "Just don't touch what's mine and you'll live to see the light of another day."

 

"Sure thing," Zarbon chuckled, throwing up a mock salute as he left, his cape swirling behind him.

 

Bulma scowled darkly at Vegeta, crossing her arms over her chest. "Since when do I belong to you?"

 

He shrugged, seemingly indifferent. "You're my employee, you work for me, and therefore, in a sense I own you."

 

"I'm not going to argue with your Saiyan logic. I may work for you but I'm no one's concubine! Who does that asshole think he is?!"

 

"Freeza's right hand man," Vegeta answered matter-of-factly, his expression suddenly dour.

 

"Oh," Bulma said, not knowing who in the 10 hells Freeza was, but guessing from the expression on her employer's face that he wasn't someone to tangle with. "You know, you do a very convincing impression of your father, Vegeta,” she teased in an attempt to change the subject.

 

"When you've been around the old fool for as long as I have, he starts to rub off on you,” he grumbled.

 

Yawning, Bulma looked at her watch; it read 3:52. "I better go back to my room so that I can get the kids' homework graded, get the lesson plans finished up and hopefully get some sleep. Good night Vegeta," she said, giving him a fleeting smile before brushing past him.

 

Vegeta caught her wrist. "Aren't you forgetting something?" [Author ID1: at Tue Apr 8 16:04:00 2008 ]

 

Bulma looked into his eyes and what she saw there made her heart skip a beat. "I-I don't think so,” she stuttered.

 

He smiled at her for a brief moment, sending a shiver down her spine. "You forgot this." He kissed her gently this time and she melted against him. Loving his smell, the feeling of his hands on her shoulders, and the burning sensation his kiss sent throughout her body. After a moment, he gently pushed her away, his face thoughtful. "Now you can go," he told her, but he was the first to leave.

 

Bulma watched him walk away from her, baffled by his behavior. I don't understand any of this; why I let him kiss me, why I wanted him to, why I feel this way…there's no making sense of any of it! As great as that first kiss was, the second…she blinked, a lump rising in her throat. It had been infinitely tender, almost fearful, which confused her even more. This is Vegeta we're talking about here Bulma. This has got to be some kind of mind game he's playing. He's going to be twice as horrible to me from now on to make up for all this, she told herself as she absently made her way through the less crowded club and toward the exit.

 

As she stepped outside into the now well lit TU room, she spotted a figure sitting with its back up against the wall, knees pulled up to their chest, head resting on their knees, snoring lightly. On closer inspection, she realized it was Chichi.

 

Bulma felt a pang of fondness for her friend as she bent her knees and gently shook her friend's shoulder. "Chi. Wake up.”

 

Chichi slowly opened her eyes, but once she did, she was fully awake. She got up with Bulma's help, her expression a little apprehensive. "Bulma, I-I was waiting for you. I didn't want anything bad-"

 

Bulma put an arm around her friend's shoulders, hugging her as she helped her walk to the TU. "I know. Thank you, Chichi. Let's go home."

 

End of Chapter Four

 

YAY! I finally finished this chapter. It took me FOREVER! I don't really like the end, but it's sort of light and heart-warming to balance out any angst in the previous chapters (I don't want to depress anyone, LOL). Anyway, I haven't started chapter 5, so don't ask me when it'll be out. I have a slight idea as to how I'm going to do five, but not really. Suggestions will be appreciated.