Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Pseudo Ferocity ❯ Motives ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the character appearing in the manga or television show. Nor am I making any profit off of this story.

Author's Notes: Hey all, lots of controversy with FFN lately, ne? Anyway, because I've already started, I decided I'd keep posting this fic here, and when the lemon comes, I'll edit it for here, and post the full blown NC-17 version on mediaminer or something like that.

*Special thanks to ssjblackguy, Bulma Peacecraft, Kat8125, and Silver Sun for beta-ing*

6: Motives

"And this is the bathroom, complete with two person jacuzzi tub!" Bruce clapped his hands together, excitedly, as he led Vegeta out the door again, "The master bedroom is just across the hall right here, and there's another smaller bedroom through that door."

Vegeta nodded his head, warming up to the prospect of living in the nice, clean apartment as Bruce gave him the 'grand tour' of the place. Caleb stood nearby, looking sullen with a slight pout on his face.

"And if you keep working for me, along with picking up some other jobs, maybe for calendars and ads and stuff, you'll have no problem affording this place! In fact, I can set you up for a meeting with a good friend of mine who works as an agent. She's got a knack for finding the good jobs, and if you stick with her, she'll have you rolling in the dough in no time! How's Saturday? You can take her to lunch! I'll call her right away!" Bruce rambled excitedly, not even pausing to see whether or not his new friend agreed.

Caleb couldn't help but to smile, and hid a smirk behind his hand as he beheld the flabbergasted Saiyan. It took a certain type to keep up with Bruce, and though he was jealous of the attention his friend lavished upon the strange man, it would be interesting to see how the dark stranger dealt with the bubbly designer.

"Oh, and we should go furniture shopping, shouldn't we? If you've been staying in a dump like the Southside Motel, I'm betting you don't own any furniture. Caleb, you've got something Vegeta can borrow, don't you?"

"Well…I suppose I-"

"No, I'll be fine. I'll see to finding myself some furniture once I start payments." Vegeta said gruffly, cutting Caleb off. He didn't want to accept any more favors, even if the prospect of sleeping on a good quality mattress was inviting. He would already be quite indebted to the quiet Caleb, and Vegeta had known for a long time that it was never wise to allow yourself to be put in a position where favors were owed to practical strangers. He had accepted the apartment only because of Bruce's prodding; consoling himself with the fact that he would pay proper rent once he was able.

Of course, he had lived in the Briefs' home rent free, with food and everything he needed provided…but that had been a different situation. Bulma had invited him , and he had really only accepted because he had nowhere else to go, and did not fully understand the workings of Earth society. He had considered not killing any of her friends or family as payment enough, and went about his way. As time went on, his payment was the prospect of saving their lives, and the entire Earth, from the androids, which was a fair price in his mind.

But aside from that, a small part of Vegeta's mind acknowledged the fact that he had actually enjoyed, to a certain extent, living with the Briefs, and probably would have stayed whether he was providing them with some service or another. There was something about the strange family that eased his mind and allowed him to relax a little. No matter how rude he had been, they had accepted his behavior, and dare say, wanted him to remain living with them. Even Bulma, who had been the one to kick him out, was probably missing him.

Caleb VanDios though, was not Bulma or one of her parents, and Vegeta did not relish the idea of being indebted to him.

"But Vegeta, where will you sleep?"

"The floor will be fine." Vegeta shrugged, "Probably more comfortable than a lumpy motel bed anyway."

"Fine by me." Caleb put in before Bruce had a chance to voice his opinions. "We should go and let Vegeta settle himself in." He said, putting one hand on the designer's back to steer him out the door. "Utilities are included in the rent, and will be provided until you start payments." He said over his shoulder, to the Saiyan. "We should meet some time when you have a moment, to discuss the situation and make some sort of agreement about when you're to start paying." Caleb dropped the apartment key into Vegeta's palm. "If you lose this, inform me right away so we can get the locks changed."

Vegeta nodded once, gently setting his bag on the floor. "I'm right down the hall in number 1982 Vegeta! Don't hesitate to come by if you need anything!" Bruce called out as the door closed, and Vegeta shook his head slowly, the corner of his lip curled up in amusement.

Slowly, the Saiyan looked around apartment number 1985, his new home, for the time being. It was very empty, with no furnishings at all, aside from the ugly lace curtains the previous tenants had left behind. He would need to go out and buy some necessities, like toothpaste and toilet paper. Looking at the shiny hardwood floor, he added a pillow and blanket to his list, along with soap, shampoo, and food.

Pocketing his key, Vegeta pulled out his wallet, wondering how much money he had left. Mrs. Briefs had not been stingy the day he left, stuffing over two thousand dollars worth of bills into his pocket, and because he had been careful about spending, he still had a great deal of money left over. Enough to hold him over for a few more days until the paycheck from Bruce's show arrived. And it would be big, he had been assured, seeing as how the show was such a success.

A small rectangular card fell out of the open wallet, and, stooping to pick up the business card, Vegeta remembered Ray's offer. An audition, to be in a movie…actors made a lot of money, didn't they? And they were famous and successful. Becoming an actor would show Bulma just how capable he was, wouldn't it?

Vegeta smirked, fingering the raised lettering on the card. He would call this Ray and set up an audition. He would make his way to the top in no time.

"But first thing's first…groceries." He muttered, bringing one hand to his grumbling stomach. He grabbed his red hoodie and pulled it on over his head, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket. Leaving the apartment, he locked the door and headed for the elevator. His new place was on the very top floor of the huge apartment complex, and he had a long way to go to the bottom floor. Luckily though, no one else was in the elevator, and no one tried to get on during his descent. It was dinnertime and most people were probably eating.

Bruce had pointed out a small grocery store on the way to the building, and Vegeta headed straight for it as he exited the glass double doors onto the noisy street. The rumbling of his stomach was becoming unbearable, not to mention embarrassing. People were staring as they passed, but not for the reasons he thought. "Damn humans…haven't they ever seen a hungry person before?" He muttered to himself, pushing past a crowd of people as he crossed the street.

Pushing open the door to the small grocery store, he was greeted by the kindly face of an older lady, who smiled and said hello to him from her place behind the counter. He nodded in return, following his nose straight toward the meat aisle. Practically drooling over the sight of so much meat, he hastily grabbed the biggest whole turkey he could find, hefting the frozen body in his arms and heading off toward the produce aisle. A bushel of bananas, a bag of apples, some oranges, carrots, broccoli, his load was getting hard to carry.

Groaning to himself, Vegeta set his armload of food carefully down in the middle of the aisle and set off to find the rest of his needs. Milk, bread, butter, soap, shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a number of other things joined his massive pile. The woman leaned over her counter, wondering why the strange man did not use a cart for his purchases.

Once he was satisfied that he had everything he needed, Vegeta began the arduous task of pushing his pile toward the counter, where the kindly old woman was looking on, perplexed at his strange behavior. She hastily began ringing up the items he set on the counter, sensing he was in a bad mood by the look on his face. She didn't want to upset him more by being slow.

Paying quickly for his purchases, Vegeta maneuvered himself toward the door, carrying his multiple bags of groceries. To him, they weren't heavy, but merely awkward to carry because he only had two hands.

"Sir…" the lady at the counter piped up, just as he was about to walk out the door. "You have so many items…why didn't you just use a cart?" She asked, unable to hold in her curiosity as she gestured toward the row of metal grocery carts.

Vegeta looked at what she was pointing to, blinking once. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for being so stupid, and feeling quite embarrassed at his silliness. However, outwardly he remained quite calm, refusing to show his embarrassment to the old woman. "Don't question my motives." He snapped, a faint hint of color rising to his olive cheeks as he stalked out of the small grocery store.

Arriving back at his apartment, Vegeta found a small bundle of fabric outside his door, a small note pinned to the top.

I knocked, but you didn't answer so I figured you probably went out. Anyway, I just realized that you probably don't even have a pillow or blanket or anything like that, so you can borrow these for a few days. I left you a few towels too, and a facecloth. Remember, I'm in 1982 so if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask!

Bruce

Vegeta shrugged, inwardly grateful for the man's thoughtfulness, and set down his groceries to open the door. Depositing his key back in his pocket, he picked up his bags and stepped inside, pushing Bruce's bundle of stuff inside with his foot to avoid making a second trip back out to the door. Inside his apartment, he shut the door with his foot as he set his things down, more than ready to eat.

Heading to the small kitchenette with his food, he scowled, realizing that he didn't even have a pan or pot or anything to cook his dinner in. Nor did he have a place he could safely build a fire without having to worry about burning the building down.

Scowling to himself, he ripped the plastic off the turkey and powered up slightly, preparing an energy blast in his hand and aimed at the dead bird. Wrinkling his nose, he fired, roasting the thing with the heat from his hand. Once he figured it was thoroughly cooked, he ripped a chunk of steaming meat off and stuffed it in his mouth, grimacing at the taste ki roasting had left behind. It wasn't terribly horrible, but distasteful enough to deter him from cooking things with his energy unless absolutely necessary.

As he ate, Vegeta supposed he could have eaten the bird raw, but it had probably been frozen solid and he didn't relish the idea of eating turkey popsicles for dinner. And besides that, raw meat was best fresh from the kill, when it was still bloody and warm. After it cooled down or froze like the turkey had, it was no good.

Finishing his meal, the Saiyan stretched and gathered up the trash, the bones and inedible packaging, and put it into one of the plastic bags he had carried his groceries home in, setting it aside for later disposal. There was a garbage chute at the end of the hall, so he would toss it down later. At the moment, however, he was in the mood for a hot shower, feeling a bit lethargic after eating the huge dinner.

Digging through his shopping bags, Vegeta grabbed his new soap, shampoo and conditioner, along with one of the towels Bruce had leant him, and padded into the bathroom, stripping as he went. By the time he reached the door, all he had on were his boxers, having left a trail of clothing down the hall from the main room. He shut the door and turned on the water in the shower, waiting for it to get warm, when he remembered what Bruce had said about the 'jacuzzi tub.' It was separate from the small shower stall, a big white basin, built for two people to fit comfortably. Which meant it would be nice and roomy with just one.

Shutting off the shower, Vegeta turned the on the tap in the bath, preparing himself for a good soak. While he waited for the tub to fill, he fiddled with the little nozzles and switches, curious to find out what they did. He was quite intrigued as to why having a bubbling bathtub would be such a special treat, but soon realized as he stepped in and sat down, allowing the jets to wash over his tense muscles.

Closing his eyes, he sighed and leant back, sinking down so that only his head was above the water. He would just relax for a little while before washing up…

Two hours later, Vegeta drug himself out of the tub, shivering as the now-cold water droplets clung to his skin. He wrapped himself up in the fluffy green towel Bruce had provided, vigorously rubbing his skin dry. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he made his way back to the main room, where his bag was, and dug through it, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers, and a comb. He slipped the boxers on and pulled the towel off, using it to rub his head, ridding the thick Saiyan hair of much of the trapped water before he ran the comb through to untangle his wild mane.

About to put the comb back in the bag, Vegeta stopped himself, reminded that the apartment was his home for the moment, and was not some sleazy motel that he would be moving on from in a matter of hours. "About time I unpack…" he muttered to himself, reaching in and grabbing a fistful of clothing. He wasn't even sure what Bulma had packed for him, and decided it would be a good time to check.

There was nothing extraordinary about what he found, a few t-shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, and a few sweaters. She had been kind enough to stuff his training shorts and tank tops in as well, but he had already known that.

"Huh? What's this?" He asked himself, coming across a stiff piece of paper. Pulling it out, he saw it was a picture. "It must be Bulma's…" The bag wasn't actually his…it was hers, used for travelling and what not, so he figured that she must have forgot to take it out after her most recent trip. She had been so hasty in packing him up to leave, she probably hadn't realized the bag she was using wasn't completely empty.

Flipping the picture over, he scowled at the image of Yamcha's smiling face, his arm casually slung over Bulma's shoulder. She was smiling too, snuggled up to him as they lay on a hammock. Vegeta recognized it as the one in the front yard, slung between two birch trees. He had often rested there, after harsh training sessions, before going into the house. He didn't want the Briefs to see how weak he was sometimes, and the big white hammock was a comfortable place to rest and catch his breath before going in.

Besides that, it provided a beautiful view of the inky night sky, with its twinkling stars and swirling clouds. It was a sight Vegeta found himself easily caught up in. For someone who had spent most of his life travelling through space, he had never really been able to appreciate its beauty so well as he had from the view on the Briefs' hammock.

His eyes focussed on Bulma's smiling face, the sparkle in her eyes, and the gentle curve of her lips. He swallowed, admitting to himself, not for the first time, that she was very pretty. Then again, he had always thought her to be physically attractive, going so far as to call her gorgeous after seeing her for the first time on Namek.

But gorgeous, he realized, was too overused, too impersonal…too plain. Gorgeous was a word used to describe landscapes, cars, clothing, and people you didn't know. Bulma was much more than gorgeous. Bulma was downright pretty.

And that filthy human scum had his arm around her so casually, not even thinking how ugly he was compared to her.

A small snarl escaping his throat, Vegeta tore the picture down the center, separating the two. He wasn't satisfied until Yamcha's smiling visage was ripped to shreds, scattered in a hundred tiny pieces on the floor around him.

When his anger was sated, Vegeta sat, still staring at Bulma's pretty face, his eyes searching for something unknown, his mind wondering why it mattered so much to him. Wondering why he was so jealous of Bulma's affection toward the human male. Wondering why, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear his eyes from the picture.

Growling viciously, his hands tore at the picture, ripping it too, into even smaller pieces than he had done with Yamcha's. He couldn't fantasize about her like that…he wouldn't.

But Kami help him, Kami curse him, he wanted her. And he hated himself for it.

Mp3 of the day: 'Save Yourself' by Stabbing Westward. Oooh, this is a really good song. I like it a lot! Download! I command thee! *giggle* Seriously, it's worth a listen!

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