Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Arrangement ❯ Movie Night ( Chapter 8 )

"One more night to go," Bulma said to herself, looking at the clock from her position on the couch. Vegeta had managed to completely avoid her since the night of the sex-ed chat. To her surprise, she had discovered that she missed him. How that could be, she wasn't sure. They didn't exactly spend those night-time visits engaged in deep conversation. If there was one thing that she was learning about Vegeta though, it was that he could say a lot without words.

Sighing thoughtfully, Bulma drew her knees up to her chest. //Before our arrangement, I thought he was easy to read and predictable, but recently that's changed,// she mused. //His over-all motivations haven't changed, and in regards to those he's still the same, but in regards to me and what we have...I can't figure him out. He's NEVER missed a night, no matter how badly he's beaten himself in training. You'd think this mattered to him or something.// Just then, she heard Vegeta coming up the stairs to the living level. "Vegeta," she called, remembering her little plot and standing up quickly. The sound of his footsteps paused.

"What?" he answered after a minute, his voice flat and tired.

"Come in here, I've got something for you," she replied. There was another pause, then Vegeta could be heard coming toward the living room, his tread slow and measured. Bulma smiled slightly at him when he entered the room. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly, and she gestured toward the TV and the mountain of super-buttered popcorn on the table.

"What's this?" he asked.

"I haven't seen you for awhile," she answered brightly. "I want to spend some time with you."

"What for?" He was frankly confused.

"Because I want to. If I want to and I can, why shouldn't I?" The look on his face was still more incredulity than acceptance. "Look, I know you don't care about human emotions and all that, but I do, and I think it's a little weird that we can take part in such an intimate arrangement and not be at least a little more social with each other than we are."

"There's only one way that I want to be 'social' with you, and according to you, we can't do that until tomorrow night."

"C'mon, Vegeta. I made lots of popcorn just for you."

He snorted. "'Just for me?' I've seen the way you go through popcorn, Bulma. That mountain on the table has nothing to do with any consideration you have for me." To her mild relief, he was smiling a little. "And that's a nice shade of red you're turning," he added, a slight laugh evident in his voice.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered. This time he laughed out-right. "ANYway," she continued, glaring at him. "I want your opinion on something."

"What?" Now the look on his face was purely incredulous, though after a moment suspicion started to take over.

"Sheesh, Vegeta, you'd think no one's ever asked for your opinion before-- Oh." She pulled back a bit in the face of his flinty expression. One of the first lessons that everyone in the Briefs' household had learned about Vegeta was that the past was Not Mentioned. He simply wouldn't talk about it. //Ok, Bulma,// she thought, //apparently no one ever HAS asked his opinion. How can we take advantage of this?// "Well, whatever's gone on before Vegeta, I am asking now."

For a while there was no response, then he focused on her again. "On what?" he asked.

"Come here and I'll show you!" Flopping back down onto the couch, she patted the seat next to her. Looking like it was against his better judgment, he accepted her invitaion. He settled himself next to her, not on the far end of the couch, but not too close either. "Great!" she said, impulsively hugging him before she grabbed the remote. Ignoring his consternation, she pushed a bowl of popcorn at him and started babbling on about the movie.

"It's this great martial arts film, which by the way, is what I want your opinion on. It stars the best martial arts actor ever, Jackie Chan, and I've always wondered just how realistic his moves actually are. I figured, who better to tell me, you know?"

"And at what point are we going to watch this movie?" Vegeta asked sarcastically as he reached for one of the big mugs of root beer.

"Oops. Forgot to push 'play'-- What are you DOing?!"

Vegeta flicked an amused glance at her before popping the now root beer-soaked popcorn into his mouth. A shrug. "It's good."

The Federal Warning came up on the TV screen bathing them in feeble light. "That's just so-- so--" she groped for words.

"Don't knock it 'till you've tried it," he said archly, then glanced at her consideringly. Too late she saw the spark in his eyes, and he flicked a root beer-covered kernel into her open mouth. Before she'd really thought about it, she'd closed her mouth and started chewing. It...wasn't bad. Kind of buttery, sweet and salty all at once. Curious, she reached out and took a handful of popcorn from her own bowl and dipped some into her mug of root beer, like Vegeta was doing. They were actually pretty good. The movie started before she could say anything, though.

Two minutes into it, Vegeta was ready to kill Chris Tucker. In her peripheral vision she could see his hands clench and unclench. She turned to face him fully and saw that he was glaring intently at the screen, that one vein in his forehead throbbing. "It gets better," she offered.

"It'd better. If I don't see some of those martial arts you were talking about soon, I'm leaving," he snapped. Fortunately, the movie soon picked up, though Bulma wasn't sure she liked the smile on Vegeta's face when Chan and Tucker went to the massage parlor.

"The loud-mouthed skinny guy just about ruined it," was the first thing Vegeta said when it was over.

"But he was so funny!" Bulma protested.

"He was irritating and ineffectual. I find it hard to believe that he was supposed to be an officer."

"Whatever, Vegeta. -I- still think he was funny. But I want to know what you thought of the martial arts, not the actors."

Vegeta sat back, folding his arms thoughtfully. The way his eyes unfocused, Bulma could tell he was replaying all the relevant scenes. "Well," he said at last, "it did show an interesting use of the fighting environment, but most of it was worthless. Just cheap acrobatic tricks."

"Wow. You sound like you're really annoyed by that. You must take this stuff really seriously."

"No shit," he said dryly.

"Oh yeah. The 'Gotta train all day, must become Super-Saiya-jin' thing."

"You know nothing," he snapped, standing up and pacing. "Fighting is not a game! You're proving your right to exist out on the battlefield and that," he paused to draw another breath, "THAT was a weak, sad, pathetic mockery, dreamed up by amatuers for the entertainment of weaklings."

Bulma blinked up at him. She'd never heard him sound like that, so serious and indignant. Like a housewife who'd just been told that someone envied her for having such an easy job. Like he felt like she did, when some chauvanistic executive patted her on the head and spoke condescendingly of her 'tinkering'. She smiled slightly at him.

Abruptly he stopped pacing. "Stand up." Barely giving her time to respond, he hauled her off of the couch and began clearing a space on the floor. Interaction with the Saiya-jin was rare enough that Bulma decided to go along with whatever he was doing. When he had finished, he pushed her to the other side of the space and took up a fighting stance. She looked at him questioningly and he indicated that she follow his lead.

"I hope know what you're doing. I have been practicing Tae kwon do for awhile now. I could probably kick your butt!" she couldn't resist bragging.

A fierce sharp grin crossed Vegeta's face. "That's the funniest thing I've ever heard. I am not trying to spar with you, you poor deluded little scientist, I am merely demonstrating a point. Now, come at me."

"Are you sure?" She kept up the bravado, ignoring the frantic part of her mind that was trying to calculate just how much faster and stronger Vegeta was.

"Yes. And as you do, try to kick that foot stool at me, like they did in the movie."

One swift kick sent the stool hurtling straight at Vegeta's knees and Bulma followed close behind it. Instead of jumping over it as they had done in the movie though, Vegeta kicked it back at her, forcing HER to jump up, which she did with a squeak. In the next instant her breath was knocked out of her as Vegeta slammed into her. They flew back and landed on the couch.

"Erf." Rubbing her ribs, which were aching from the crash, Bulma sat up. "And just what point were you making?" she asked Vegeta.

He was watching her, a small, satisfied smile playing in the corners of his mouth. "How well did jumping over that stool work for you?"

"It didn't," she grumped. "But you have that whole super speed thing going!"

"I had adjusted for your limitations." He leaned forward. "Even if I hadn't though, the point is that without the ability to manipulate ki or something to push off of, jumping around only makes you an easier target."

A light bulb flashed over Bulma's head. "I was stuck on the vertical plane, and without any way for me to change that, it was easy for you to figure out where I would be and plan a counter-attack."

Vegeta nodded sharply. "You're not as dense as you look."

"I'm not dense at all!" Indignation turned her cheeks red.

"You just needed someone else to remind you that you could wish Kakarot to Earth before wishing him back."

"I would have thought of it sooner or later!"

"Right."

"Why, you...!"

"You're right, though." His tone changed from baiting to exaggeratedly thoughtful. "You have to have some sense. After all, you did ask me to father your child."

"And you can't be as stupid as you look, because you agreed!" she snapped back.

He didn't respond, he only sat there smirking, obviously feeling pleased with himself and having a good time. Bulma found herself coming to a conclusion that left her blinking in confusion. Was this his idea of normal conversation? That possibility threw an interesting light on his behaviour. She'd have to think about it some more. Smiling, she stretched and stood up. "Well, it's getting late and apart from playing gymanstics with you, I'm bushed. I'm going to bed."

"Whatever." Disappointment flashed briefly in his dark eyes.

"Anyway, thanks for not blowing up the TV when Chris Tucker got to be too much for you."

He smirked. Bulma's best guess was that it was some kind of cocky 'you're welcome' smile.

On a sudden impulse, she reached out and grabbed his hand. Squeezing it warmly, she smiled at him. "This was fun. We'll have to do it again sometime-- without Chris Tucker. Good night, Vegeta. See you tomorrow." So saying, she pushed past him and headed for her bed room.

Was it her imagination, or had she heard him say "See you tomorrow" in return?