Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Bulma in Me ❯ Chapter 7
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Cordelialove 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.29.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 267 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.29.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 267 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter 7
“Get up! Wake UP!”
I groaned against the pillow as the distant voice finally ended my dream. I was not ready to face another day at the Deli. I waved my hand at the noise, unable to distinguish it and assuming it was my cat, eyes closed and head buried.
The voice stopped and I snuggled back into the pillow, content that I would be allowed some more time to doze.
Then the water came down.
I sat up with a scream, wet and freezing, and looked through blurry eyes to see a figure standing there with a bucket.
“What the HELL!” I screamed, ready to lash out at whoever had the nerve to come in here.
My eyes cleared and I saw, with hope and dismay, a very irritated and slightly confused Vegeta.
I was still Bulma. I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. To scream at Vegeta or hug him. I was too cold now to consider being nice.
“Jesus CHRIST, Vegeta, what the hell is wrong with you!?” I shrieked, squeezing the water out of my hair and top.
He smirked. “It is time for breakfast. Make it.”
“You poured a bucket of water on me…so that I would make you BREAKFAST?”
The smirk grew wider.
“I’m hungry.” He said, in an almost innocent tone.
“Fuck you, Vegeta!”
It was too early for this. Before he could say another word I stomped into the kitchen and began programming the bots to cook for the entire week. I furiously mashed buttons, becoming angrier with every drop of water I heard spill from my hair to the floor.
“Here, you pigheaded jerk, these will cook for you all week. Next week I will return to the kitchen and program them again. Unless the GR breaks you have no reason to pester me.”
His smirk grew wider, if that was possible, and his eyes moved steadily down to my chest. I followed his gaze and squeaked when I saw that the shirt was now see-through.
This day was not starting off how I would’ve liked.
“Get a good look, pervert, it’s the closest you’ll ever get!”
Vegeta took that in, his eyes growing wide, and then he threw his head back and laughed.
“Stupid woman, I would never sink so low as to bed a classless loud mouth such as yourself.”
My eyes widened. “Classless? CLASSLESS!? I am the richest girl you will ever meet on this planet! I was BORN with class! In fact, on my planet, I’m as close to royalty as they come!!” I stomped up to him, poking him in the chest at the end of my rant.
“Yes, it seems royalty can be easily bought and sold on this planet. Beauty, apparently, is not so prevalent; especially not in this family.”
“You…you…” I sputtered, indignant to the point of speechlessness, “Are an IMBECILE!”
He began laughing again and I let out a scream of frustration, anxious to get away from this irritating man.
I attempted to sweep by him and slipped on the puddle of water that had rapidly formed beneath me. I flew into the air and prepared for the crack of my skull against the stone kitchen floor, but it never came.
I opened my eyes and was face to face with my rescuer. Vegeta had me in his arms, crouched low to the ground. He smirked at me and dropped his voice again.
“You know woman, you should really watch where you’re going, it’s one thing to be hideous but it’s another to be clumsy.” He was so close to my face that I could feel his words vibrate against my cheek.
“Or maybe,” he said, leaning in and pressing his lips to my ear, lowering his voice to a whisper “you were just desperate for my touch.”
It was like a slap in the face. My eyes went from half lidded to fully open and I violently struggled out his grasp as he chuckled smugly. He let me go, laughing as I slid and almost fell again. I let out a frustrated scream and tore up the stairs.
I raced to my room and slammed the door, wanting to display my anger to the empty house, but I couldn’t ignore my burning cheeks and my racing heartbeat. Being that close to him…he had set my entire body on fire.
But then he mocked me. What was he playing at? He was either playing games or was severely sadistic. Or maybe it was both. Either way I figured it was best to avoid him at all costs for the rest of the weekend.
I decided to spend the rest of the day in my lab. For some reason I had an urge to go down there all day. I was the only one with access so I knew I’d be safe from Vegeta. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and put on a pair of goggles.
Before waking up in this world science was my worst subject, with math being a close second. It would be interesting to see what this brain knew.
I slipped on a pair of gloves and went to work, my hands knowing instinctively what to do. Chemicals were measured with one hand, formulas scribbled with others.
‘Ha! If only my chemistry teacher could see me now,’ I thought with glee.
Hours passed and my work was temporarily interrupted by the loud growling coming from my stomach.
Damn.
I was onto something, and once in work mode, in this life and my previous, I didn’t like to stop. But my physical needs were calling so with a sigh I pulled off my gloves, pulled my goggles down around my neck, and headed for the kitchen.
It was past lunchtime so I knew there would be food already made. Hopefully Vegeta would have been in and out by then.
It seemed my prayers were answered when I entered the kitchen and saw the piles of dirty dishes. Apparently he’d already eaten which gave me a chance to eat in peace.
I sat down and took one of the few remaining plates of food out of the oven. Just as I was about to dig in the door bell rang. I set the fork down with a small sigh of disappointment and went to see who it was.
“Yamcha!” I had totally forgotten about him! But there he was at the door, bouquet of roses and a sheepish smile. “What are you doing here?”
A defeated look crossed his face.
“Aw come on, you aren’t still mad at me are ya? Look, I was sick last night. I think it was something I ate. I just didn’t want to gross you out.”
“Last night?” I stared blankly.
“Bulma, look, I’m sorry. Please don’t shut me out, give me another chance! I promise to never miss a date again!”
It was starting to come together.
“So those flowers,” I gestured to the bouquet he was holding, “are to apologize…for…missing our date last night?”
His face immediately brightened and he nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Here you go babe, now can I please come inside?”
He handed me the flowers and I gestured him in, not sure what to do.
In all the fan fiction I’d read it seemed the Yamcha was the cheating type. But I couldn’t remember an actual episode of the show that confirmed that fact. I wasn’t sure how to handle this.
But it seemed he had plans of handling it for me, as I was suddenly smothered by his aggressive kiss, his hands were everywhere.
“Yam-mph!” I tried to push him away gently but he didn’t seem to be getting the hint so I used a bit of force, apparently surprising him and causing him to stumble.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m just so happy that we’re back together, babe.”
Back together? Had we broken up already? I had to think of something or this guy would be trying to get into my pants all day.
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re back together…let’s just take things slow.”
His face dropped at the prospect. Was he really just about the sex?
I got an idea. “Tell you what, why don’t we go out tonight? I could use a break from the house.”
He seemed to brighten a little at that.
“Ok, there’s a club opening tonight, why don’t I pick you up at 8pm?”
“That sounds perfect! I’ll be ready.”
I quickly ushered him out the door and ran upstairs to get changed, full of excitement. A night out!
With Yamcha.
The excitement quickly drained. Yes, he was very attractive, but he was so aggressive. I was afraid that if I drank anything I wouldn’t be able to fight him off. I needed a wingman.
Or in this case, a wingwoman.
“Get up! Wake UP!”
I groaned against the pillow as the distant voice finally ended my dream. I was not ready to face another day at the Deli. I waved my hand at the noise, unable to distinguish it and assuming it was my cat, eyes closed and head buried.
The voice stopped and I snuggled back into the pillow, content that I would be allowed some more time to doze.
Then the water came down.
I sat up with a scream, wet and freezing, and looked through blurry eyes to see a figure standing there with a bucket.
“What the HELL!” I screamed, ready to lash out at whoever had the nerve to come in here.
My eyes cleared and I saw, with hope and dismay, a very irritated and slightly confused Vegeta.
I was still Bulma. I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. To scream at Vegeta or hug him. I was too cold now to consider being nice.
“Jesus CHRIST, Vegeta, what the hell is wrong with you!?” I shrieked, squeezing the water out of my hair and top.
He smirked. “It is time for breakfast. Make it.”
“You poured a bucket of water on me…so that I would make you BREAKFAST?”
The smirk grew wider.
“I’m hungry.” He said, in an almost innocent tone.
“Fuck you, Vegeta!”
It was too early for this. Before he could say another word I stomped into the kitchen and began programming the bots to cook for the entire week. I furiously mashed buttons, becoming angrier with every drop of water I heard spill from my hair to the floor.
“Here, you pigheaded jerk, these will cook for you all week. Next week I will return to the kitchen and program them again. Unless the GR breaks you have no reason to pester me.”
His smirk grew wider, if that was possible, and his eyes moved steadily down to my chest. I followed his gaze and squeaked when I saw that the shirt was now see-through.
This day was not starting off how I would’ve liked.
“Get a good look, pervert, it’s the closest you’ll ever get!”
Vegeta took that in, his eyes growing wide, and then he threw his head back and laughed.
“Stupid woman, I would never sink so low as to bed a classless loud mouth such as yourself.”
My eyes widened. “Classless? CLASSLESS!? I am the richest girl you will ever meet on this planet! I was BORN with class! In fact, on my planet, I’m as close to royalty as they come!!” I stomped up to him, poking him in the chest at the end of my rant.
“Yes, it seems royalty can be easily bought and sold on this planet. Beauty, apparently, is not so prevalent; especially not in this family.”
“You…you…” I sputtered, indignant to the point of speechlessness, “Are an IMBECILE!”
He began laughing again and I let out a scream of frustration, anxious to get away from this irritating man.
I attempted to sweep by him and slipped on the puddle of water that had rapidly formed beneath me. I flew into the air and prepared for the crack of my skull against the stone kitchen floor, but it never came.
I opened my eyes and was face to face with my rescuer. Vegeta had me in his arms, crouched low to the ground. He smirked at me and dropped his voice again.
“You know woman, you should really watch where you’re going, it’s one thing to be hideous but it’s another to be clumsy.” He was so close to my face that I could feel his words vibrate against my cheek.
“Or maybe,” he said, leaning in and pressing his lips to my ear, lowering his voice to a whisper “you were just desperate for my touch.”
It was like a slap in the face. My eyes went from half lidded to fully open and I violently struggled out his grasp as he chuckled smugly. He let me go, laughing as I slid and almost fell again. I let out a frustrated scream and tore up the stairs.
I raced to my room and slammed the door, wanting to display my anger to the empty house, but I couldn’t ignore my burning cheeks and my racing heartbeat. Being that close to him…he had set my entire body on fire.
But then he mocked me. What was he playing at? He was either playing games or was severely sadistic. Or maybe it was both. Either way I figured it was best to avoid him at all costs for the rest of the weekend.
I decided to spend the rest of the day in my lab. For some reason I had an urge to go down there all day. I was the only one with access so I knew I’d be safe from Vegeta. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and put on a pair of goggles.
Before waking up in this world science was my worst subject, with math being a close second. It would be interesting to see what this brain knew.
I slipped on a pair of gloves and went to work, my hands knowing instinctively what to do. Chemicals were measured with one hand, formulas scribbled with others.
‘Ha! If only my chemistry teacher could see me now,’ I thought with glee.
Hours passed and my work was temporarily interrupted by the loud growling coming from my stomach.
Damn.
I was onto something, and once in work mode, in this life and my previous, I didn’t like to stop. But my physical needs were calling so with a sigh I pulled off my gloves, pulled my goggles down around my neck, and headed for the kitchen.
It was past lunchtime so I knew there would be food already made. Hopefully Vegeta would have been in and out by then.
It seemed my prayers were answered when I entered the kitchen and saw the piles of dirty dishes. Apparently he’d already eaten which gave me a chance to eat in peace.
I sat down and took one of the few remaining plates of food out of the oven. Just as I was about to dig in the door bell rang. I set the fork down with a small sigh of disappointment and went to see who it was.
“Yamcha!” I had totally forgotten about him! But there he was at the door, bouquet of roses and a sheepish smile. “What are you doing here?”
A defeated look crossed his face.
“Aw come on, you aren’t still mad at me are ya? Look, I was sick last night. I think it was something I ate. I just didn’t want to gross you out.”
“Last night?” I stared blankly.
“Bulma, look, I’m sorry. Please don’t shut me out, give me another chance! I promise to never miss a date again!”
It was starting to come together.
“So those flowers,” I gestured to the bouquet he was holding, “are to apologize…for…missing our date last night?”
His face immediately brightened and he nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Here you go babe, now can I please come inside?”
He handed me the flowers and I gestured him in, not sure what to do.
In all the fan fiction I’d read it seemed the Yamcha was the cheating type. But I couldn’t remember an actual episode of the show that confirmed that fact. I wasn’t sure how to handle this.
But it seemed he had plans of handling it for me, as I was suddenly smothered by his aggressive kiss, his hands were everywhere.
“Yam-mph!” I tried to push him away gently but he didn’t seem to be getting the hint so I used a bit of force, apparently surprising him and causing him to stumble.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m just so happy that we’re back together, babe.”
Back together? Had we broken up already? I had to think of something or this guy would be trying to get into my pants all day.
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re back together…let’s just take things slow.”
His face dropped at the prospect. Was he really just about the sex?
I got an idea. “Tell you what, why don’t we go out tonight? I could use a break from the house.”
He seemed to brighten a little at that.
“Ok, there’s a club opening tonight, why don’t I pick you up at 8pm?”
“That sounds perfect! I’ll be ready.”
I quickly ushered him out the door and ran upstairs to get changed, full of excitement. A night out!
With Yamcha.
The excitement quickly drained. Yes, he was very attractive, but he was so aggressive. I was afraid that if I drank anything I wouldn’t be able to fight him off. I needed a wingman.
Or in this case, a wingwoman.