Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Pseudo Ferocity ❯ Acting ( Chapter 16 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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: Okay, so I'm really late with this chapter…but trust me, I have good reasons. Computer crash, writer's block, extreme business with homework and grad committee, yada, yada, yada. I won't bore you with the details, I'll just let you get to the chapter!

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

16: Acting

Bulma stepped carefully out of Caleb's Jaguar, running one hand through her hair as she shut the door with the other. Self-consciously, she glanced at her reflection in the car's tinted windows, smoothing the form-fitting capri pants over her hips, and straightening her shirt. With the aide of a compact mirror she fished out of her purse, she did a quick makeup check, and with one saliva-dampened finger, she wiped away a tiny smudge of eyeliner that had collected at the outer corner of one eye, then dabbed on a little lip-gloss.

"Are we done yet, Miss Briefs?" Caleb joked, elbowing her playfully in the ribs, and nearly causing her to smear frosty pink lip-gloss across her cheek. She glared at him, then snapped the compact shut, dropping it into her purse as a slight feeling of embarrassment began to wash over her. She felt like she was back in high school, crammed in front of the bathroom mirrors amongst the other girls, pasting herself over with the gaudy makeup that had been a staple of her generation's youth.

"Perhaps you'd like to borrow some, Cay," she quipped back, "your lips aren't as pouty pink as they could be. You know, the guys really go for that." Her words, veiled in a teasing note, struck right at home, and Bulma watched his cheeks darken to a deep, rich crimson. She flashed him her sweetest smile before trotting off to catch up with Bruce, who was already on his way to the set, where Max Trenton waited.

Bulma was nervous, more so than she had ever been before. She had not seen or spoken to Vegeta since the night of the kiss, and she wondered how he would react to her presence on the movie set. Would he see it as yet another intrusion into his new life? Or would he welcome her, with the secret hope that things between them could be salvaged? Or would he even care? Would he go back to being the introverted, angry, stubborn Vegeta that had taken up residence in her home so long ago, or could she hope for the Vegeta she had come to know over the past months?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Her head hurt, but she hid it behind a smile. She hid everything behind a dazzling white smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes.

 

 

"Vegeta, will you stop scowling at me like that?" Marille sighed, exasperatedly. She was the costume designer who had been at the show with Ray when Vegeta was discovered, and she was currently trying to alter one of the many costumes Vegeta would have to wear for the movie. It seemed that she had drastically underestimated his size, as he was unusually well built for someone of his small stature.

"If you don't stop sticking me with those damnable pins, I'll do more than scowl," the Saiyan shot back, his words accentuated by a deep grumbling from the back of his throat.

"Oh please, like a teeny little pin prick makes a big difference to a guy like you." She scoffed, intentionally jabbing him again with the sharp point as she pinned back a loose piece of material.

"It gets a little annoying after the FIFTIETH TIME!" He rumbled back, grinding his teeth in an attempt to control his irritation. At first, Marille Goldstern had seemed to be a nice, quiet woman; someone who avoided confrontation, and didn't, as they say, rock the boat. In reality, she was much like Bridget, with an annoyingly teasing attitude, and in Vegeta's opinion, possessed neither the looks nor charm to pull it off.

Marille's only response was a sarcastic snort; the kind specifically designed to make a person feel inferior. Vegeta's fingers clenched into a fist so tight the veins in his arm began to bulge. By the gods, how he wanted to teach her a lesson, but he had to restrain himself, if only for the sake of his job. He was smart enough to know that none of his new employers would be pleased if he mauled their costume designer, however appealing the idea was. So instead of hauling Marille up by the throat and ripping out her entrails with his bare hands, he took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he possibly could.

"Anyway, I'm almost done pinning this one up." She added, selecting another pin from the brightly colored pincushion she kept at her side. "And then you can go. I heard Max has invited some woman out to the set, and he'll probably want you to woo her into doing him some sort of favor. Either way, this is the last thing that needs altering - so far - so you won't have to see me unless you rip your britches."

"In that case, goodbye forever." Vegeta snorted, wondering who Marille was talking about. Someone he knew? Not very likely. Oh well, he figured that anyone would have been better company than the chatty seamstress.

"Annnnnd….Done!" Marille exclaimed, pushing the last pin though the fabric, not without first stabbing Vegeta's calf though. "Now good luck getting those off without pricking yourself all over again!"

Deep breaths Vegeta…deep breaths…and mutilation…mutilation is good…NO! control yourself Vegeta! Control is good…

Vegeta stalked to the back of the room, behind a curtain that had been set up for changing, and proceeded to jab himself exactly five-hundred and thirty-two times during the process of taking off his shirt, and then another two-hundred and three times while taking off his pants. Gruffly pulling on his own clothes, he stormed out of the costume building and back to his trailer to go over his lines for the scene he was to film that afternoon.

 

"Bulma, I've got a little confession to make." Max admitted, between takes of a scene between two of the lesser characters in his film. "I wasn't exactly pure in my motives to bring you here today…you see, I have a teensy little favor to ask of you." A guilty smile spread across his lips, and he tried his best to look innocent. "Do you think you could help us out by reading a scene with Vegeta?" He asked, then quickly rushed to explain himself. "I mean, you already know we haven't been able to find a replacement for Delaney yet, but this scene, there's something not-quite-right about it, and I'd like to fix it as soon as possible." Max flashed an apologetic 'you-know-how-it-is' smile, "so I thought that since you're here…maybe you wouldn't mind helping out?"

"Oh Max…I really don't know about this…"

"Oh come on Bulma!" Bruce interrupted, "It'll be fun! Right Caleb?"

"Yeah Bulma, go on. It's the steamy loooove scene," he teased.

"I guess…if it'll really help." Bulma agreed, hesitantly allowing herself to warm up to the idea. After all, it was just a reading, right? It wasn't like she was actually going to be IN the movie.

"I'll go tell Vegeta! He'll be so excited!" Bruce jumped up, off to Vegeta's trailer before Bulma had a chance to change her mind.

 

 

"WHAT?!?" Vegeta roared, spinning around to face Bruce. "No, I won't do it. I can't. Not that scene, not with her."

"Vegeta, please, it's just a reading."

"No it isn't!"

"What's the problem? Honestly, it isn't that big a deal."

Vegeta turned away again, silently brooding. He didn't really have a choice in the matter; it was either read the scene with Bulma and face a potential erection and/ or private flashbacks, or explain to everyone how afraid he was of his own feelings, and suffer complete and total public humiliation.

"Nothing," he finally answered, struggling to control the shake in his voice. "No problem. When do we start?"

 

 

About an hour later, Vegeta was pacing restlessly around the small trailer. Ten minutes…he was supposed to be there in ten minutes for the reading with Bulma. Curse all the deities in existence! What was he going to do? Well, the answer to that one was obvious; he would show up and read the damnable scene. But what would he do if something happened? A possible sexual response was pretty easy to cover up and explain, after all, she was a beautiful woman, and he was a man…in fact, people probably expected him to be at least a little attracted to her, and Bulma, well she had already seen her effect on him. A flashback, however, would be far more difficult to explain, and about one hundred million times worse.

Vegeta wasn't in control of himself anymore, and it bothered him. It bothered him so much, in fact, that he forgot to be angry with her for interfering in his professional life again.

 

 

"Alright now, Vegeta, we've got your costume all set up and ready so go put it on. Bulma, Marille's ready behind that curtain to the left with Delaney's costume, so just put it on, and she'll pin it in if need be." Max smiled, ushering the pretty young woman toward the hastily erected dressing curtains.

"Wait a minute here," Vegeta groused, "it's just a reading, so why the hell do we have to be in costume?"

"Ummm…well, Vegeta, I told you this scene is not-quite-right and needs to be fixed, so I figured it would be easier for me to fix it if I were able to easily envision what it would look like in the movie. That's why I'm having it taped too, so I can review it later." Max babbled, beginning to sweat a little under the Saiyan's scrutinizing glare.

"Fine." Vegeta muttered after a moment, and stalked off toward his dressing curtain. Bulma watched after him for a moment before following suit and heading toward her own curtain.

"Whoo, that was close." Max sighed, once the two were out of hearing range, and flopped down into his director's chair. "I never want to get on that man's bad side."

 

"Strange, it fits perfectly." Bulma murmured, twisting and turning about in front of a body length mirror. "It's like this costume was made specifically for me."

"Yes…" Marille coughed, averting her eyes toward the ground in a very suspicious manner, "strange." Bulma looked at her a moment, warily, before shrugging it off and flouncing out of the curtained area and back toward the set. Vegeta was already there, silently taking direction from Max, and she stopped short, covertly admiring the way the fitted tunic and breeches fit his muscular form. Suddenly, she felt very self-conscious in the full-length, frilly Victorian nightgown, and for a quick moment, considered turning back around and hiding.

"Ahh, Bulma! We need you over here, in the bed." Max called out, noticing her presence in the distance. "Well, what are you waiting for? No reason to be camera shy!"

"Sorry…" she muttered back, hurrying over to the gigantic four poster bed…the set of Queen Aria's bedchamber, where her adulterous love affair with Lord Dominic Satayn was to take place.

"Just climb right up on the bed, into the middle. Yes, that's it, right there. Now, you've read the script over, right?" Max asked, and Bulma nodded. "Good, so you know what you're supposed to do?" Another silent nod. "Okay then, let's get started. If you forget something, look to Bruce, and he'll help you out."

"Okay, got it." she swallowed thickly. "Let's get this over with."

 

 

"D…Dominic?" Bulma sat up in the bed, looking around the darkened set. "Is it you?"

"Of course, my love," Vegeta stepped out of a shadowed doorway and slowly made his way toward the bed, "You were expecting someone else, perhaps?" his hand reached out to brush aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

"That isn't in the script." Bruce whispered to Max, who immediately shushed him.

"Never, my love. Never ever would I wish to be with someone else." Bulma looked coyly down at the sheets pooled around her body. "You are a scoundrel to suggest such a thing!"

"Ahh, that I am, my lady." Vegeta smiled, "And I wonder if such a benevolent lady might allow a poor scoundrel to share her blankets on such a cold night."

"Why, only a cold-hearted witch would turn away a frozen man." She smiled back, the candlelight flickering in her eyes. "But only if he takes off his boots."

"What of his shirt?" Vegeta asked, kicking off the tall leather boots he wore.

"That too." Bulma nodded, and obediently, Vegeta pulled the tunic up and over his head, dropping it on the floor beside his boots.

"And his britches?"

"Oh, naturally!" Bulma laughed, reaching out to tug at the waistline of Vegeta's pants, and trying to hide the subtle shiver that went though her, as her hand made contact with his stomach. She stopped, quite frozen in her position, and heat rose up to her cheeks as she looked up at Vegeta.

Taking the cue, the Saiyan let out a hearty laugh and pounced onto the bed, bowling Bulma over onto her back. "And what of the lady's nightdress?" he asked, tugging at one of the ribbon ties over her bosom. "It is proper custom, you know."

"I was right sir, to call you a scoundrel!" She laughed back, resting her head on the fluffed pillows beneath her.

"And my lady is a terrible tease." Vegeta whispered back, his lips descending to touch hers as he eased his body down to lay on top of her. A soft sigh escaped Bulma's lips, and she opened her mouth to his, her hands running up his chest to clutch at his shoulders. She felt his weight press more heavily on her, as he shifted to run one hand along her side, his mouth pressing a little harder at hers. A groan rumbled up from his throat as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, giving in to the desperate need to taste her. He was quickly losing control of himself, and for once in his life, he didn't care.

"Aaaaand, CUT!" Max yelled, "that was great, you two! I should have lots to work with! And Bulma, I don't know how to thank you for helping out! I'll be in touch to let you know how it went! Actually, maybe you could come back tomorrow and see the tape for yourself! I'll make the necessary arrangements!"

Bulma nodded weakly from her position, hot and flushed beneath the Saiyan Prince, who was also looking a little unsettled.

"Vegeta, I'll need you in about twenty minutes for the scene with Dominic's wife, so make sure you see Marille and get your costume! See you then!"

"Yeah…" Vegeta muttered, finding his voice as he pushed himself off and away from Bulma. "Which set?"

"Oh, number 17! The palace guest quarters. And Bulma, you're welcome to go get changed if you'd like to."

"Thanks…" Bulma muttered, before turning and heading back toward the dressing curtains. Vegeta followed shortly after, trying not to be too obvious as he admired her swaying backside.

"Why the diddly did you stop them?!?" Bruce cried, elbowing Max in the ribs as soon as the pair was out of earshot. "I worked so hard to get her here, with him, and now you just go and yell cut!"

"You'll have to excuse Bruce," Caleb put in, with a laugh, "he's been trying to play matchmaker for a few weeks now."

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Max snorted back, checking his watch for the time. "Oh man, guys, I'm supposed to be over at set 22 in about three seconds, so I'll have to catch you two later! Make yourselves at home!"

Bruce and Caleb stood in a somewhat awkward silence, watching as Max ran off toward the set. The pair hadn't really been alone together since the night of the show, after going out for drinks. "So…how's…stuff?" Bruce groped for something to say.

"Okay." Caleb mumbled back, equally tongue-tied. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm okay…" Bruce said softly, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Look Bruce…I uh…I think we need to talk," the young businessman blurted out. Lord, how he had messed things up! In his somewhat drunken state, he had kissed the eccentric designer, possibly ruining a friendship with one of the best people he had ever met, and almost definitely ruining any chances at romance. He had meant to come out some day, and eventually confess his love for Bruce, but the kiss, the damn kiss! Bruce hadn't been the same toward him since that night.

Oh no, Bruce thought, frantically, he's going to tell me it was all a mistake and that he's totally straight and that the kiss meant nothing at all! NO! I don't want to hear it! "No, I've got to go…to…over there." He bumbled, before abruptly turning away.

Caleb's heart grew heavy as he watched his best friend walk away, and was so wrapped up in pain that he didn't notice Bulma's presence behind him, until she put her hand on his shoulder, startling him. "Oh, Bulma…that was quick. Where's Vegeta?" He asked, trying to shake the emotion from his expression.

"Oh, don't be an idiot." She snapped, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Go run after him, you big dolt!"

"Wh…what?"

"You heard me! Chase him down!" She laughed, and he sent her an uncertain little smile.

"You really think he'll…?"

"I know so!" She turned his body in the direction that Bruce had gone, and gave him a quick slap on the rump. "Now go!" He jumped forward in surprise, but flashed her a smile as he took the first hesitant step, then another.

Before long, he was running.

 

 

 

Oooh, Bruce and Caleb, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!! *giggle* I'm such a dork…lol.

Mp3 of the Day: "Guy Guy" by Max Coveri