Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Project: Vegeta ❯ Oops... ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
A/N: Some technichal stuff in here, don't mind the big words they just work here.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Damn Shame.

Chapter 4
Oops...



Bulma had risen from bed that morning feeling more rested then she had in a long time. The night before had been a disaster, but she felt cleansed somehow. She couldn’t believed she’d nearly cried in front of Vegeta. She needed to stop taking him so personally. He treated everyone like crap. That was just the way he was. Maybe someday he would change, but for now, she had vowed to stop letting him get to her. And he’d been right about one thing. She needed to hurry up and figure out what happened with GS 2.0.
Focused entirely on that one goal she sat at her desk, sheets and sheets of data before her. “Think, Bulma, think!” she said to herself.
“What’s that dear?” her father asked from across the room.
“Oh, nothing, dad, I’m just talking to myself.” She said absently as she started making a mental list of everything she’d been over already.
Dr. Briefs chuckled. ‘That’s my girl,’ he thought. ‘Anything to inspire the creative process.’ Sometimes he marveled at how alike they were.
Back in her own head Bulma was mentally checking off the Gravity Simulation Device itself. All of the readings indicated that the level of gravity had been constant and exactly what Vegeta had set it to. Also, the training bots hadn’t even been powered up, let alone activated at the time of the accident, so it couldn’t be them. She flipped through the newly added training enhancing developments. The ki absorbing shield around the inner hull hadn’t even had a chance to react to Vegeta’s blast. It showed no energy consumption up until the explosion was already happening. And the sub-sonic bio-magnetic emitter seemed... ‘Wait a second,’ she thought her eyes re-scanning the data. Just before the explosion, about the time Vegeta would have been powering up for the blast, there had been a slight fluctuation in the sub-sonic frequency. She hadn’t noticed it before because it was so slight, but since there shouldn’t have been any change in frequency at all... that had to be it! But how? ‘That frequency is set to exactly match Vegeta’s bio-magnetic signature. The additional magnetic pulses from the emitter were designed to further stimulate the neuro-muscular junctions in his muscle tissue to increase the contraction of each individual muscle fiber. That would, in turn, maximize his muscle efficiency as well as lead to increased compensation through better muscle tone and repair.’
Walking herself through the scientific process brought her back to her original conclusion. ‘But that frequency was set to match Vegeta’s personal signature. And there hadn’t been a malfunction as far as the emitter was concerned. From what she was reading the frequency had been altered sometime between when it left the emitter and when it was recorded by the data recording sensors. Which was impossible. ‘Unless...’
“Hey, dad, come look at this,” she waved him over holding the relevant pages out to him.
“What’s this?” he asked curiously as he began to look them over. Bulma just bit her lip and waited hoping that if she was right her father would come to the same conclusion. “Hmmm...” he said after a few minutes. “Vegeta was alone when the Gravity Sumilator exploded, was he not?”
“I’m sure he was.” Bulma stated. “He would have said something if anyone else had interrupted his precious training.” She was sure of it now. She had to be right.
“Well then that means... OH!” Dr. Briefs eyes widened in realization. “Then that means...”
“Yep!” Bulma smiled, excited with the discovery. “I don’t know why we didn’t consider the possibility before. After all, it explains a lot.” A LOT. “We need to do more tests, but I’m certain this will fix the problem. Why don’t you get production started on a new Simulator, sans the bio emitter. I’m going to go have a word with Vegeta. Hopefully I’ll be able to get him to see reason.” Bulma’s excitement was nearly bubbling over as she began searching the lab.
“All right, dear,” the good Doctor said as he walked over to his telephone to call their GIST department to put in the order. It was a good thing that Capsule Corps. had snagged a military contract just last week that had brought in Billions. GIST had developed a marketable prototype of the Gravity Simulator dumbed down to be practical for human usage. Along with the leaps and bounds they’d made in Inter-planetary Space Travel they were set pretty good on funding. Not that they’d been nearing destitution before but still, if this continued he could foresee them spending a lot more on their alien guest.
“GIST Supervisor Edwards here?” the voice on the other end brought Dr. Briefs back to his task.
“Yes, Edwards, Dr. Trunks Briefs here. I need you to start production on another one of those “projects” for me. Prototype CC35GS2.0, you remember? Only I need this one to have systems program CC37BME33.7 disabled. Priority Rush on this one too, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course!” Supervisor Edwards replied enthusiastically.
While he finished going over some specifics over the phone he watched Bulma as she systematically continued to dismantle the lab. At least that’s what it looked like she was doing. Placing his hand over the receiver he frowned and asked, “What are you doing, Bulma? I thought you were going to talk with Vegeta.” He’d been delighted to get out of that little duty. Vegeta intimidated Trunks Briefs to no end.
“I’m going to!” She exclaimed pulling open another set of cabinets. “I’m just looking for...” her voice was muffled as she stuck her head inside and started pulling out the contents. “Do you remember what I did with that...” again muffled words were all he heard as she disappeared under a cascade of spare parts and miscellaneous pieces of scrap metal. “Oh, never mind, I found it!” she shouted, and then promptly hit her head on a shelf as she attempted to retract her head. “Ouch!” she grumbled, rubbing the back of her skull. In her hand she held what looked like half a pair of sunglasses. The trendy, colored-class kind.
Stumbling back over to her computer she plugged the base of the ear piece into an adaptable cable that was attached to her hard drive. After a few seconds of pulling up system code she plugged in a few command variations. “That should do it!” she saved the code and then unplugged the device.
Bulma managed to almost trip several times as she walked to the door. She’d left quite a mess in the wake of her frantic search. Dr. Briefs shook his head as he hung up the phone. Yes, he and his daughter were similar in some ways, but in others... they were complete strangers. “Well, Kitty,” he said to the sleeping animal curled up on his shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked up at him then, awaken by the sound of her name. “I guess we’re left to clean up the mess.”
“Meow.”



Vegeta was just managing to stave off a particularly bad mood as he worked through some of his more challenging routines. Even getting only a few hours of sleep had recovered an impressive amount of energy. And the large breakfast he’d inhaled that morning before getting to work had helped in that respect as well. But somehow his pleasure in light of such good news was overshadowed by the fact that he was still replaying the stupid woman’s words in his head. He didn’t understand why the things she’d said had made such a strong impression, but the fact that they had affected him at all was maddening.
He tried chalking it up to her ignorance, her inferior understanding, her mind-numbing irrationality. But her words still haunted him.
He’s a super Saiyan because he let himself be open to the possibilities of friendship and love and happiness. Something that I’m sure you can’t even comprehend! Our existence may seem pathetic and despicable to you, but that’s just because you can’t even see what you’re missing out on.
What was he missing out on? Friendship? Love? Happiness? All delusions of a weak mind. But if what she said about Kakarrot were true, then...
Impossible. Weakness could never breed strength. It was unthinkable. It went against everything he understood to be true. And then, worst of all, her final words had stung him to the very core.
If you really think that is true, then I pity, Vegeta. I’m sorry for you.
It was... intolerable. How dare she pity him? She was sorry for him?! HA! She should feel sorry for herself. She should... be banging at his door right this second.
“Hey! Vegeta! Come out here!” He heard her voice muffled through the metal door.
“Go away, Woman, I’m training!” He yelled. The last thing he needed right now was another distraction involving that... demanding, loud, hideous creature.
“Don’t make me unplug it, Vegeta!” She yelled back. “You’re going to want to hear this, trust me! I may have solved all your problems!”
“What?!” Vegeta said, shock in his voice. What exactly did she think his problems were. “I’m fine. My only problem is that you keep pestering me all the time!” He was prepared to ignore her indefinitely if necessary.
“Oh come on?! Please!?” She waited. He ignored her. “Fine! I’m pulling the plug. Three!... Two!”
Vegeta’s anger skyrocketed. She wouldn’t dare! And now she was counting at him as if he were some kind of infant. Well, it was time he put her back in her place. “Fine!” he roared moving to turn off the power. “Just you wait, woman...” he snarled under his breath.
With the gravity back to normal he walked to the door and opened it. “If you really have such an intense death wish, you should have just asked. I’d have gladly put you out of your misery months ago!” he growled, hands on hips.
“Whatever, Vegeta,” she said dismissively. “Just come out here for a second. I think I’ve found out what happened to the other Simulator.”
“Good for you, but why does that justify you disturbing me, yet again?” he asked, stepping outside, but only to get in her face and be more intimidating, of course. “Just fix it and be done bothering me!”
“Oh, we did! Daddy’s got a new one on order as we speak.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the edge of the yard.
“They WHY the HELL are you here?” he asked, exasperated at her audacity. He pulled his arm from her grip and stopped in his tracks. She turned around and glared at him in response. “Just tell me Woman, or I will blast you where you stand for the interruption.”
“Oh fine,” Bulma sighed, rolling her eyes at him. “But, seriously, Vegeta, you are such a Drama Queen!”
“Woman...” he growled one last warning.
“Okay, look, first things first I need you to blast that tree over there,” she said as she pulled an object from her pocket and slid it over her right eye. It looked suspiciously like a scouter.
“You dragged me all the way out here to help you with your gardening?!” He didn’t think he could get more angry.
“Don’t be stupid, Vegeta. I need to get a reading on your energy emissions.” She pointed at the tree again. “Now please, the tree.”
Vegeta narrowed his eyes. “I’m not stupid.” He huffed one last time and then decided the only way to get the answers he wanted was to go along. For now. But only because killing her now would leave him with an unresolved question. Turning angrily he raised a fist and blasted the poor innocent tree into micro-dust. “Okay, Woman, now you will explain yourself. What did you mean when you said you may have solved all my problems.”
As if she hadn’t been offensive enough already she seemed to be ignoring him as she studied the scanner on her face. “37.3 deca-hertz...” she muttered to herself as if he wasn’t even there. “And the other was... 33.7... which means...” Bulma’s eyes snapped to Vegeta’s face and she grinned. “I was right! Kami, Vegeta you are just going to love me after this...”
“Doubtful..” he snarled. “I’ll probably die of old age before you manage to spit out what was so important that you had to...”
Bulma cut him off. “Your Ki!” she exclaimed.
“What about it?” he frowned.
“It’s out of sync. With the rest of you, I mean.” she hurriedly explained. “See, everyone has a unique Bio-magnetic frequency. It’s like... It’s like an electro-chemical fingerprint, kind of. And everyone’s is a little different.”
“I know what unique means, baka...” Vegeta hissed and Bulma suddenly realized just how seriously pissed His Royal Highness actually was.
“Oh, of course you do. What was I thinking? Well, anyway we measured your Bio-magnetic Frequency at 33.7 deca-hertz, which is exactly 337 cycles per second. But your ki, well, it should match, seeing as how it’s really just a manifestation of your bodies natural energy. But your ki is running at 37.3 deca-hertz. Which is slightly faster.” She explained quickly hoping to get out of this alive.
“Which means, what exactly?” Vegeta seemed to have calmed slightly, but he was still frowning intently.
“Well it means that... How do I put this? It seems to me that your Ki is... agitated. Something is disrupting your bodies energy and it’s moving at an increased frequency. Which is why the Gravity Simulator exploded. Your body has somehow adjusted to the disruption, which is probably why you’re so cranky all the time, but when the frequency we were outputting from the Bio-magnetic emitters came into contact with your ki and it’s slightly different frequency, well, it was basically like shattering glass with a pair of tunning forks. The conflicting frequencies cause a vibration that basically tore it all to bits. Really, it’s a miracle you survived at all.”
“So what you’re saying is that, you and your stupid “improvements” almost killed me?” Vegeta said, his anger seeming to return.
“Now wait a second,” Bulma said, backing away from Vegeta slowly. “There’s no way we could have predicted that this would happen. An internal frequency discrepancy of this nature is highly improbable. In fact, if I hadn’t seen it myself I wouldn’t have believed it possible. Theoretically you should be dead from the disruption anyway. Any normal human would be. And it’s not like we did it on purpose.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, getting in her face again. “It would’ve seemed like the perfect way to rid yourselves of a far superior being you had no chance of killing by conventional means. How do I know that you weren’t trying to get rid of me? If our roles were reversed I can assure you I would have taken any opportunity to take YOU out.” He was nearly spitting in her face at this point.
Bulma had been backing away but with that she stopped. “Well, I’m not like you.” She whispered firmly. “And I don’t want you dead. If I did I’d just call Goku.”
That simple insult smacked strangely of the truth. “You would be smart to do just that. I could end your life and the life of all you hold dear in a matter of seconds, without even breaking a sweat and sleep very soundly afterwards.” He honestly wanted to know why they’d actually tried to help him. He deserved nothing but vengeance from these humans. He’d shown up on earth, killed many of their own, including the weakling this woman called mate. Then he’d beaten their champion to a bloody pulp before they’d gotten lucky and cut off his tale. And instead of revenge, he’d been shown mercy. And still he’d tried to kill them, going in search of the Namekian Dragon balls in order to win immortality so that he could return to finish what he’d started. Then, by some unhappy accident he’d been wished back with the others killed by Frieza’s hand and brought to Earth where he’d been offered only hospitality and forgiveness. It was insane. It didn’t make any sense! WHY!?
Bulma held his gaze calmly, her expression softening, much as it had the night before. “I don’t really think you would, Vegeta. I think there’s more to you then you let on. I’ve seen goodness in you. I know you could be a better man, if only you’d...”
“A better man!? I suppose you mean like that brain-less buffoon Kakarrot. Am I right?”
“Yes! ... No!... I mean... kind of.” Bulma looked down. “I don’t think you could be exactly like Goku, it’s not in your nature...”
“Damn straight...” he grunted.
“...but you’ve seen Goku’s strength! You know what I”m talking about. You could be... more.” She finished, exasperated that she couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t believe you’re truly as evil as you want everyone to believe, Vegeta. It’s all a front you put up to protect yourself. But you don’t need to protect yourself from us. Goku and... the rest of us, we could help you understand that. If you’d just...” her voice trailed off as she noted the stone-like expression taking it’s place on Vegeta’s face.
“That is enough. You obviously don’t know me at all. And you have no idea what’s good for you, either. You should fear me. Fear me, and my power and NEVER presume you know ANYTHING about me.” The venom in his tone stung her viciously.
Even now she could see the pain underlying his words. ‘Why can’t you just try to understand, Vegeta?’ she wanted to scream, but settled with trying to tell him with her eyes. Finally, when she realized he wasn’t going to relax, she shook her head and looked at the grass. “I’m not your enemy, Vegeta. I’m just trying to help you. I just thought you’d want to know why you’re having trouble becoming a super saiyan, that’s all. But I can see I’m wasting my breath...” she turned to go.
“Wait!” Vegeta said after a second. Bulma felt a faint smile of hope creep up the edge of her face.
“What, Vegeta?” she asked, trying to sound calm and complacent.
“This Ki disruption. You think it has something to do with my inability to ascend to Super Saiyan?” His voice remained gruff and somewhat annoyed but she suspected there was a touch of hope in it too.
Banishing her smile she turned around slowly. “Yes. I do.” She said firmly.
“And how does one... fix such a disruption?” He forced himself to ask.
“Well,” she said, thinking about it. “It would help if I understood the cause of the disruption. But without knowing that I would say... if I had to make an educated guess? That you need to relax.”
“Relax?” He sounded like that was the last thing he expected to hear.
“Yes, relax. The agitated state of your ki signature says to me that you’re too up tight. You’re trying too hard. It’s kind of a chicken vs. the egg thing. You’re ki is off which irritates you sub-consciously which causes you to get uptight, which increases the disruption and thus the sub-conscious irritation and so forth. It’s a vicious cycle. One, I’d say, you are deeply submerged in.” she challenged with a raised eyebrow. “Now, I’d have to do more research to know for sure. And, like I said, knowing the cause of the disruption would certainly speed things along, but yeah. Mostly you need to calm down.”
He narrowed his eyes at her again. He was sure this was another attempt to get him to lower his guard. “And just how do you purpose to learn the cause?” he asked suspiciously.
“Well, for starters, more tests. And it would probably include quite a lot of psychotherapy as well.” She said as casually as possible.
“Psychotherapy? What is that?”
“Its... getting inside your head. Figuring out why you are the way you are. Talking about your past and your feelings...” Bulma said, trying her best not to give Vegeta her own version of his triumphant smirk.
“Certainly not!” He said as if she’d suggested he should wear a tu-tu and do the hokey-pokey.
“I’m just saying...” She shrugged. “You’re welcome to try and fix it yourself. I’m not sure how you would go about trying to right internal conflict you weren’t even aware of until I brought it to your attention, but feel free to try.” She headed for the house again, calling over her shoulder. “Good luck with that. Oh, and don’t forget, you’re kind of on a schedule here.” And with that she was gone.
Vegeta stormed back into Simulator and slammed the door. That woman was crazy if she thought he was going to let her anywhere near his head. She could just take her “psychotherapy” and shove it. And he wasn’t submitting to anymore tests either. He slammed his fist down on the panel activating the 450 g’s once again. For all he knew it was just some kind of ploy to humiliate and disgrace him. Perhaps he’d been wrong about them not seeking revenge. Maybe this race’s brand of vengeance was just a lot more cruel and subtle then he’d ever imagined. And they said HE was evil. The worst he’d ever done was physically terrorizing people and committing mass murder. He’d never sunk so low as to force them to dig up their past. Compared to psychotherapy, his methods were infinitely more merciful. Even a slow agonizing death by the most terrible torture methods ever devised was preferred to... sharing his feelings.



Yamcha had set the weights almost a full five minutes ago but had yet to lift them even once. His eyes were focused across the room where a dozen or so women doing leg lifts to a hyperactive techno tune. It had been weeks since the last time he’d been with Bulma and if things continued being distant between them it might be weeks more. His groin twitched as he remembered their last morning together. This spell of abstinence was going to kill him.
“Hey, buddy, I can get you into that class if you’d like?” One of the gyms personal trainers had caught him staring.
Yamcha blushed and scrambled to focus on the task at hand. “No, that’s okay...” He pushed his arms up too quickly, the distraction making his control slip, and he sent the weights flying from their spot on the machine and crashing into Yamcha and the unsuspecting trainer. Lying under the spilled bricks he sighed to himself. Weight lifting was useless. His training was at a stand still. “Maybe some cardio would be a good idea after all,” he said sheepishly.




For the next few months Vegeta made a point to avoid Bulma at all costs. As far as he was concerned, he had everything he needed. A shiny new Gravity Simulator, version 2.1, a never ending supply of food, and a place to rest his head. And for the time being he ignored what Bulma had told him about fixing his Ki. And for the time being she was willing to let him do so.
Bulma spent her time catching up on her Capsule Corps. work and doing some much needed shopping. She was just counting the days until he realized she was right and came to her for help. Eventually, she knew that the seed of logic she’d planted would sprout and grow. The seed of truth that would nibble at his mind until he gave in. The second he truly believed that she was the only thing that could help him become a Super Saiyan he would crack. If she knew anything about Vegeta at all it was that nothing else mattered more then that. She hoped that included his pride because Bulma knew she was right. She could wait. She wouldn’t push. Besides, she had other things to do. Her life didn’t revolve around him.
Standing in front of her mirror, Bulma tilted her head this way and that. It was about time for a new hair style, she thought. Fingering her spiral perm she considered a few options and then moved to the bags piled on her bed. Sorting through them she found the Vanessa’s Mysteries bag and pulled out her new swimming suit. It was sunny and warm and she figured she would start her summer make-over by getting the perfect tan. She quickly changed into her new suit and then, after grabbing a towel, her ipod, and her tanning oil she headed out back.
Finding the perfect, sunny spot she laid out her towel and situated herself comfortable onto it. She poured a handful of the tanning oil into her palm and began applying it to her legs. She slowly worked it into one calf, and then the other moving to her thighs and then up to her stomach and arms. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get her back, but since she was going to start with her front she decided not to worry about it for now. Putting her earphones in she chose her favorite playlist and smiled as a particularly favorite song started. Closing her eyes she laid back enjoying the sensation of sun and oil heating her skin. She let her mind wander, listening to the music and loving the perfectness of that moment. It took her a minute before she noticed that a shadow had fallen across her face. Cracking on eye she was more then surprised to see Vegeta standing over her.
“Yes, Vegeta? Can I help you with something?” she asked politely as she removed one ear piece.
“I was unaware that humans liked their flesh as well-cooked as their food.” Vegeta smirked.
“What? This?” she waved at her exposed, oil-covered skin. “This is just a little melanin stimulation.” She winked at him as she closed her eyes again and continued to bask. “You wouldn’t mind stepping just a little to your left, would you? I really don’t want a flame-shaped tan line across my breasts. Thanks, you’re a doll.” She smiled as she heard his shocked inhale followed by a low growl.
“Actually, I do mind. In fact, I think it is you that should move. Preferably, to the other side of the compound. You and your vulgar display have encroached on my side of the yard,” he growled.
“Your side?” she laughed sitting up. Looking around she noticed the GS about 20 feet away. “Oh, I’m sorry. That is the Simulator over there isn’t.”
“I’m sure you knew that full well,” Vegeta growled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She smiled at him innocently. “Seriously, Vegeta, lighten up. If I remember correctly this is still MY house. And my yard, despite your continued use of that portion of it over there. Besides, the light is better over here. Moving to the other side of the compound is out of the question. I’m sorry, but this is simply the best place for tanning.”
“And it’s just a coincidence that the best place happens to be right next to where I’m TRYING to get some training done?” He asked skeptically.
“Well, of course, Vegeta, what else would it be?” she shook her head at him, looking genuinely confused. Vegeta wasn’t sure he was buying it.
“Hey, do me a favor?” Bulma said, flipping over. “Could you put oil on my back for me? I can’t reach.” Vegeta narrowed his eyes to tiny slits and scowled. It was just as he suspected.
“I will not,” he sneered. “Don’t be disgusting.”
“Disgusting?” Bulma frowned, looking over her shoulder at him. “What’s up with you today, Vegeta? I just asked you for a simple favor. If you don’t want to help me out that’s fine, but you don’t need to be so mean about it. Kami, Vegeta. You’d think you thought I was trying to get you to do something morally corrupt. No, wait, then you’d be all over it.”
“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you’re trying to do. I don’t suppose a weak-minded fool such as you can help herself.” He spit back.
“Honestly, Vegeta, what are you talking about?” Bulma turned back over and sat up again.
Vegeta just frowned. There was no way he was going to let her force him into saying it aloud. The very idea that this ballsy little vixen was trying to seduce him was despicable enough without him having to announce it to the world. As if he would ever be tempted by such a physically inferior female.
“What is it?” Bulma repeated, throwing her hands up. “You know what, just forget I even asked. I’ll do it myself.” She grabbed the bottle and poured some into her hand. Sliding her hand over her right shoulder she got as much as she could that way and then reached around her side to get some more. She figures she was missing quite a bit, but there was nothing else she could do.
Vegeta watched, his frustration at the situation increasing ten fold. First, he’d been distracted by the sight of the woman rubbing her body down while wearing nothing but a few minuscule scraps of light green fabric. Then to have her deny right to his face her plot to embarrass him sexually had been even worse, but now... the way she was reaching around herself made her breasts press together in such a way as to make his eyes want to bulge from their sockets. Between the limited material surrounding them and oil drenching her front they were seconds away from sliding out all together.
“Just... stop!” He shouted. Bulma froze, her eyes widening at his sudden outburst.
“What?” She set the bottle of oil down and stood up slowly. “Look, Vegeta, it’s my body and I can tan if I want to. It’s nice of you to be concerned about my well-being but really, you don’t have to worry. I created this oil myself. It’s specifically designed to block 99.9 percent of all harmful rays! It’ll be fine. Really! It’s better then a good SPF lotion! Trust me, I know what I’m doing. You think I’d risk this amazing skin just to catch a few rays? Heck no! I’d never put this kind of perfection at a high risk for cancer. It’s perfectly safe!” She picked up the bottle to start on the other side, as if to demonstrate.
“SPF?” She thought he was concerned with her health? Frowning again he decided maybe he was imaging things after all. She was vain enough to be believed. Either way he couldn’t allow her to distract him from his training any longer. “Give me that,” he growled grabbing the bottle from her hand. “If I assist you in applying this fluid will you move over there to finish your “tanning”?” he asked, pointing to a spot out of line with the GS’s windows. He sounded absolutely at wits end.
Bulma looked over to where he was pointing, frowning slightly. “Well, sure, I guess. If it means that much to you, Vegeta.” She turned her back on him now and pulled her hair out of the way. “All you had to do was ask. I don’t know why you’re acting all weird about this...” She said, and then smiled devilishly as she heard him squeeze oil onto his hand.
Vegeta stood, totally mortified as he held the greasy substance in his hand. Looking at the woman’s almost completely nude back and wondering how he’d allowed himself to be so compromised in the first place. Gritting his teeth he slowly placed his hand on her left shoulder and started applying the oil. He moved in quick little circles over her shoulder blades and then down to her lower back. In seconds he was done.
Smiling victoriously Bulma turned around. “Thanks, Veg...” but he was nowhere to be seen. The bottle of oil was lying haphazardly in the grass and Vegeta was gone. “Huh?” She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. “He can be such a weirdo sometimes...” she muttered with a shrug as she gathered her towel to move, just as Vegeta had requested a deal was a deal, after all. And even though she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to push him, there was nothing wrong with helping him to see her as less of a threat. Mission number one: Earn Vegeta’s trust. Not an easy task, to say the least, but she felt she had a pretty good start.


A few days later Bulma arrived home from the hairdressers with a glowing look on her face. Walking into the house she passed her mother, who did a quick double take and then put her hands to her mouth.
“Oh, Bulma! You’re hair looks just fabulous!” She pulled her daughter towards her to get a better look. “You’re just so beautiful! I don’t know why you don’t have more boyfriends?!” Again with her mother and the men.
“Oh, mom...” Bulma couldn’t help but blush. She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at the softness of her new do. Instead of a tiny spiral she was now sporting a gentle body perm that helped showcase her hair’s length nicely. It was past her shoulders now. ‘And there’s still some curl to it...’ she smiled again picturing the way her hair now well in waves and large, soft ringlets. Her bangs had long since gown out framing her face more softly from the sides. It complimented her delicate facial features wonderfully.
She gave herself a mental pat on the back as she listened to more of her mother’s ooing and ahing. It had been a good choice. Now if there was anyone around to appreciate it that would be even better. She and Yamcha hadn’t seen each other since just after the 2.0 incident. She felt a little guilty that she hadn’t even really thought of him till just now. Maybe she’d give him a call...
Dr. Briefs entered just then carrying Kitty and a stack of paperwork. “Oh, hello, Bulma. You changed your hair. Did you get the DOD memo from this morning?”
Bulma smiled at her father. That was her dad. Ever observant but never sentimental. “Yes, Dad. I already e-mailed my response to R&D. I forwarded you a copy too if you’re interested in my recommendations.” she walked over to the fridge and pulled out an apple and a knife to cut it into slices with.
“Oh that’s fine. Great work,” He smiled back. After Bulma finished cutting her fruit he stole a slice and winked at her as he left just as quickly as he’d arrived. She just shook her head and smiled. After grabbing the peanut butter she sat down at the table for one of her favorite mid-day snacks. Pulling out her cell phone she dialed Yamcha’s number, not sure if he was going to be home at this time of day or not.
He picked up after the fourth ring. He was laughing as he said, “Hello?”
“Oh, hey, Yamcha, it’s me!” she announced.
“Uh...? Bulma?” Yamcha asked, his laughter fading. “Is that you?”
Bulma frowned. “Yes, it’s me. Where you expecting someone else?” She refused to be hurt by his lack of enthusiasm.
“Oh, no, I just... hadn’t heard from you in a while is all. How’s things?” he was at least trying to sound interested now. In the background she heard someone giggling.
“Sorry, is this not a good time?” she asked. She was rethinking the wisdom behind her decision to give him a call.
“Oh, it’s fine, I’m just... I have some people over, that’s all.” He stammered.
“In the middle of the day?” she asked skeptically.
“Well, yeah. It’s just some friends from my dance aerobics class. Is that okay?” he sounded like he was preparing for a tongue lashing.
“Yeah, I guess that’s fine. I just wanted to call and say hi. So hi. How’s the training going?”
“Oh it’s good. It’s good...”he said awkwardly and there was more laughing in the background. “You know, Bulma, it’s weird you should call today, I was just thinking I needed to call and talk to you about something...” He sounded a little hesitant.
“Yeah? What’s that?” she asked picking up a piece of apple and dipping it in the peanut butter.
“Well, I was just thinking that, since we’ve both been so busy lately and all, that maybe we should cool things off with us for a while. You know... see other people and all that. What do you think?” He tried to laugh it off, if anything sounding even more awkward.
“Well,” Bulma said, thinking it sounded like he’d already taken the initiative to “see” other people on his own. “I think that sounds like a good idea. Both of us being so “busy” and all. Sounds like you're really busy right now, in fact.” She said with just a hint of anger.
“Right,” he only cringed a little. “Well, okay then, I guess that settles it.” He paused trying to think of something to say. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”
“I guess so,” she said. “Bye.” And that was that. Hanging up she noticed for the first time that Vegeta was standing in the doorway watching her as if she were a time bomb about to go off. She swallowed her irritation at Yamcha and tried to smile. “Hey, Vegeta, how’s it hang’n?” she asked, putting her cell on the table and bitting into her apple and peanut butter.
“How’s what hang’n?” he asked as he stepped into the room and walked to the fridge. He had forced his expression back into neutral Vegeta scowl number seven.
“It’s just an expression, Vegeta,” Bulma said, enjoying the flavors mingling in her mouth. “It means, How are you doing? What’s up? Que Pasa? Donde Esta? What’s shak’n? And so on.”
“Whatever,” he said and pulled out an apple of his own. Taking a big bite he chewed slowly. Then he grabbed a tub of macaroni salad, a loaf of bread, two chunks of ham, a block of American cheese and a medium sized head of Lettice. Setting the ingredients on the counter he began to make himself a sandwich. It was about the only thing that he knew how to make. When he was finished he placed his ginormous sandwich on a plate with his half-eaten apple and then carried the plate and the tub of salad to the table.
Eyeing Bulma for a possible ambush, he slid carefully into the chair furthest from her and began eating. He was avoiding any eye contact at all now that he was satisfied that she posed to immediate threat.
Bulma was a bit surprised that Vegeta had fixed his own food at all. Usually he was up in arms, demanded to be waited on hand and foot. She realized that maybe this had been going on for a while now. Since he’d done everything possible to avoid human contact lately he might not have had a choice. She still considered it an improvement.
“Have you ever tried peanut butter with your apples?” Bulma asked as she chewed her next slice.
Vegeta continued to not look at her. “You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full. Don’t you know it’s rude?”
Bulma rolled her eyes at the fact that Vegeta was giving her a lecture in manners. She finished chewing and swallowed. “Well, have you?” she inquired again.
“No,” she said, still avoiding her questions. “It looks disgusting.”
“Well, it’s not.” She said amiably. “You should try it. You might like it. You never know...” she popped another goop-covered slice into her mouth. Finally, Vegeta paused his eating and looked up at her. He wondered what her angle was. He’d seen her eat from the same apple, so it wasn’t likely to be poison... She just smiled at him and offered him her last slice, a large mound of golden, peanut buttery goodness on the end of it.
They sat like that for a minute. Her offering a seemingly harmless morsel of food, him analyzing her for any possible trap. He didn’t want to look like he was afraid. Hesitantly he reached out and accepted the adorned apple slice. Slowly he brought it to his mouth watching her face for anything suspicious. Sliding the whole thing between his lips he started to chew.
“So?” she asked. “What do you think.”
He thought it was pretty good. He said, “Hmm,” and then went back to his other food. Bulma watched him for a second, smiling as he eyed the peanut butter slowly and then glanced at his own unfinished apple.
She stood slowly and walked to the sink. Grabbing the knife she’d used she rinsed it off and then walked back to the table. Holding the knife she reached across the table...
Vegeta sat back, not quite flinching but looking very uncomfortable as she picked up his apple. Then he watched her like a hawk as she sat down and began cutting it into slices. She was also giving him a funny look.
“You seem a little jumpy, Vegeta. Is everything okay?” She asked curiously.
“I’m fine,” he grunted non-committal like as he finished his sandwich and picked up his fork to start on the macaroni salad.
“Cause if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were just a tinsy bit scared of me...” she raised an eyebrow in question and he froze, fork halfway to his wide open mouth.
“That is preposterous.” he said simply. “I would never be scared of a highly inferior weakling like yourself.” he scoffed as he stuffed the fork in his mouth and continued eating.
“Well, that’s what I would have thought...” Bulma shrugged it off.
Vegeta just scolded himself for acting foolishly in the first place. Of coarse this silly woman posed him no threat. She was neither strong enough nor smart enough to cause him any concern. Still, there was something about the way she’d been acting... nicer then usual somehow. He recalled hearing her phone conversation earlier. Maybe it had something to do with her and that weakling Yamcha.
Nodding towards her phone he raised an eyebrow. “So you finally decided to toss that looser after all, eh?” he said between bites.
Bulma sighed. Inside she was stinging a little from the loss. Her and Yamcha were finally over. For good. It just didn't feel real yet. She shrugged. “Yeah, well, things have been over for a while now. We just decided to make it official.”
Vegeta scoffed slightly. “I would have thought you’d have turned on the waterworks by now,” he challenged her mockingly.
“I don’t know...” she sighed. “I mean I’m upset a little, I guess. I mean we were together for so long! And from the sounds of it he’s already moved on, but... Like I said, things haven’t really been that great for a while now, so I guess I just have to face the idea that Yamcha and I aren’t going to grow old together.”
Vegeta grunted another mindless agreement as he picked up an apple slice and dipped it in the peanut butter.
Bulma got up to grab a fork from the silverware drawer and sat back down, reaching for the tub of macaroni she took a fork full and chewed thoughtfully. “Things were great when we first met. He was dangerous and exiting and yet adorably naive at the same time. We had some good times together, don’t get me wrong. Just lately... things had gotten so... boring.”
Vegeta stuffed another apple and peanut butter in his mouth and chewed slowly. As he swallowed he opened his mouth to say he thought she deserved better anyway when it hit him that they were actually have a conversation. An actual conversation with her opening up and sharing and... him acting like he cared. His face dropped into a sharp scowl. ‘Pathetic wench! How could I let my guard down so easily!?’ he thought as he glared at her innocently chewing away. He snarled as he grabbed the macaroni tub from her hand.
“Hey...!” she said sitting up straight. “I was eating that!” she reached for it quickly. Just as quickly he jerked it out of her grasp.
“Well, I was eating it first. Go find your own food!” he shouted back at her.
Bulma slammed her fork down on the table and stood, huffing slightly. “Fine. I was done anyway.” She said petulantly and headed for the door.
“And your hair looks stupid,” he called over his shoulder. He wasn’t going to even consider the fact that wasn’t entirely true.
“Ooooh!” she screeched and then stormed out.
‘That’ll teach her...’ he thought with a smug smile as he finished the last of the macaroni and reached for the peanut butter.