Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Silent War ❯ Chapter 1

Silent War

by Debby Dea

Vegeta lowered the newspaper just enough to see Bulma over its top edge. She was sitting at the counter with one of her many projects laid out before her. Since her attention was focused on the schematic and scattering of tiny parts, he was able to study her unobtrusively.

They had not talked for nearly four days now, and Vegeta couldn't even remember what their fight had been about. Bulma had been extremely upset about something and demanded an apology from him. He had refused and she had given him the silent treatment ever since.

Bulma's head began to lift and Vegeta quickly lowered his eyes back to the print before him. He pretended to be engrossed with the news, but didn't read one word of it. He could feel her gaze on him and it took all of his self-control not to look up again. Just to be on the safe side, he raised the paper a little higher to block her view of his face. Safely hidden, Vegeta closed his eyes and took a silent, deep breath. His resolve was weakening.

Bulma knew she was being watched. She could feel his eyes burning into the top of her head. If she looked up suddenly, would she be able to catch him in the act? Would it prove anything?

The intricate lines on the diagram she was pretending to study swam before her eyes as she fought back the threat of tears. She wished--for the thousandth time--that they hadn't argued in the first place, but she couldn't take it back now. She had started this silent war. If she broke down and talked first, she would lose. And after the fit she threw at him, she would be damned if she would let him think he had won this fight. She had to stay strong to prove her point.

She reached for the tiny computer chip on the far side of the counter. Her eyes betrayed her and flicked up at a slight movement from across the room. The paper rustled slightly as he shifted the paper higher to read the lower articles. Even though he was now completely hidden behind it, Bulma was sure he had been looking at her. She gave her head a brief shake and tried again to focus on the schematic. If she didn't get better control of herself, she would weaken enough to give in.

Vegeta had been sitting, looking blankly at the same page, for almost a half hour. He knew he should really leave the room before he broke down and spoke, but there seemed to be an unseen force keeping him there. Was it the lure of competition, or just the fact that he needed to be in the same room as Bulma?

At first, it was easy to keep their distance in the large house. But, lately, it seemed that they both wanted to use the same room at the same time. Almost as if they were being magnetically drawn together. In the back of his mind, he envisioned them being forced closer and closer until they collided. The image was tempting.

He forced the slight smile from his face before carefully and methodically folding the newspaper and placing it on the table beside his chair. He stood up and and walked across the room with his head held high.

The snap of the paper made Bulma's head jerk up. Her fingers fumbled with the intricate computer chip and it dropped to the counter. Vegeta was headed straight toward her!

After days of intentionally trying to avoid him, Bulma had called herself silly and began to go about her normal daily routine. She hadn't realized until today just how often their routines caused them to be in close proximity of each other. The fact that she had decided to work in the same room at the same time Vegeta decided to read the newspaper was just a coincidence. Wasn't it?

Bulma watched Vegeta walk slowly and proudly toward her. He wasn't looking at her, but at the mess of parts still scattered across the counter. She held her breath as he got closer and closer, not sure what to expect of him. She knew she wanted him to apologize, but was he really going to do it?

He walked by Bulma so close that he could smell her shampoo. After he had passed safely behind her, Vegeta closed his eyes and inhaled the heady scent. It seemed to fill not only his nose, but his whole head as well. He hadn't realized how much he missed that scent.

It took a great deal of will power to steady his hand as he reached for a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. His mouth was so dry that the first sip felt like it evaporated before it even hit the back of his mouth. He stared out the widow above the sink, keeping his back toward Bulma, as he continued to force the water down his throat.

Vegeta knew it was going to take all of his strength, but he had to get away from her. If he didn't, he was going to end up throwing himself at her feet in complete disgrace.

Bulma's hands shook. The heat she had felt radiating from Vegeta's body as he passed, now left her feeling cold and alone. He was standing near enough for her to reach out and touch him. Too close for comfort, yet not as close as she would have wished.

Her entire being cried out for her to launch herself off her stool and into his arms. She bit down on her bottom lip until she was sure her muscles would obey her mind and not her heart. Then she reached out to picked up the screwdriver and attempted to concentrate on the task at hand. It took her many tries before she was able to connect the tip of the screwdriver to the minuscule screw. For some reason, the simple job had become a major undertaking.

Frustrated with her inability to force the screw into its hole, Bulma pressed harder and harder. Suddenly, the screwdriver slipped and punctured the tip of her finger. She gasped in surprise and pulled the tool from her skin. She held her finger up, amazed that the pain had not registered yet as the blood began to flow.

Vegeta heard Bulma's sharp gasp and looked over to see her injured finger. The blood was beginning to trickle down toward her palm, and yet she just stared at it as if in shock. He quickly set his glass down and went to her.

Bulma was surprised as Vegeta grabbed her bleeding finger and silently coaxed her over to the sink. She allowed him to place her hand under the faucet. As he gently washed the cut, she studied his face. She had always loved his strong, smooth jaw. Her other hand started to lift, but he moved away before she could touch it.

He opened a drawer and pulled out the first aid kit, rummaging around in it to find just the right size bandage. As he placed it on her finger, his hand lingered on hers. Before he knew it, he was gazing into her eyes.

She grasped his hand, ignoring the slight pain from her finger. Her other hand reached up to cup his jaw in silent thanks. When he did the same, they were drawn together as if invisible ropes around them had tightened.

They clung to each other tightly as the tension and passion that had built up for days was suddenly released. They both gave a muffled moan as Vegeta picked Bulma up and headed for their bedroom. Behind the closed door, they still had yet to speak...yet neither were silent.