Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Too Close for Comfort ❯ Dangerous ( Chapter 3 )

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

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z isn't mine. It truly hurts me to admit the truth, but it actually isn't... I thought I had you fooled!

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for all of the reviews, from VenusLegacy, lafemmevegita, and keleos! It means a lot to me that people are taking time to read this fic and think that it's interesting enough for me to continue it, which I definitely will!

Enjoy!

11/27/11 Revised for continuity and story-flow.




Too Close for Comfort




Chapter Three : Dangerous




Vegeta awoke suddenly for the second time that morning as his backup alarm clock sounded with an annoying trill that invaded his dozing senses. Once again, he slammed an open palm onto the snooze button, not bothering to raise his head to look at the time.

"I'm awake. I'll get up. Right...now..." With a grunt and, surprisingly, more effort than he usually required, he lifted himself up onto his hands, his arms shaking under the weight, but then quickly dropped himself back down, his face landing back on his warm pillow. "No, thirty more seconds," He mumbled to himself drowsily, his voice dwindling as his unconscious sought sleep once more, and sadly, yet again, he could not reach it despite his best efforts.

Ten seconds passed, and a loud bang startled him wide awake. Fully up now and alarmed, he sat up on his bed, frantically darting his eyes around the room for the source of the sudden noise. There was another sharp thud against the wall next to his bed, and he examined it with confusion. It happened again, and again, and slowly became a series of evenly timed thuds, and Vegeta rationalized to himself aloud, attributing the sound to a hammer, and nothing more. He allowed himself to relax, and he rubbed the side of his face with his palm, which he noticed itched terribly, for some reason.

"Fucking..." He cursed. Just what time do they think it is, hammering shit like that? He blinked slowly and took a look at the clock radio he had struck just moments before. The numbers burned red into his retinas to the point where he could see them clearly etched into the darkness of his eyelids, which he closed in frustration. Three o'clock PM, Sunday. Deciding that there was no way he was going to get any sleep no matter how long he stayed in bed, he grumbled and maneuvered himself out of the sheets, tangled from his fitful rest. Cracking his neck, he got up and walked stiff-legged and sore to the bathroom, feeling as if he had just been struck by an 18-wheeler.

He flicked on the light and reluctantly looked in the mirror with an odd sense of dread. When he finally brought his eyes up to face his reflection, what he saw led him to glance quickly down at the palm that he had just wiped his face with. It had a streak of rust colored red junk across it and he closed his eyes briefly in frustration yet again, balling his hands into tight fists.

Damn, would you look at that... Strands of hair were swept down in front of his face, and his usually lively-looking spiked hair was looking a bit disheveled. Dark circles hung underneath his bloodshot eyes. He would have chuckled to himself if it weren't for his exhaustion. His body definitely didn't betray how tired he truly felt, and he was glad again that it was Sunday. He leaned forward, closer to the mirror, and examined the small wound on the side of his face. It was a small cut on his upper cheek, underneath his right eye, about four inches long. It wasn't too deep, but what had healed during his short rest had broken open from his fitful sleep and was now glistening with a bright crimson, the side of his face smeared with the ruddy remnants of the makeshift clean-up he somehow managed in the early hours of that morning in haste to get to bed.

Rough night again...

He wiped his face with a wet washcloth, shaking his head in disbelief. Opening the medicine cabinet, he rustled around blindly for a moment, but then took out an old bottle of Vicodin he had left over from his last trip to the hospital. He popped a small dose in his mouth and swallowed it dry. Vegeta took a step backward to exit the small room but a sudden rush of dizziness and unease overtook him and he lost his balance. He stumbled to the ground, landing uncomfortably on his ass on the rock-hard tile, even though he had stuck out his hands to catch the fall at the last moment. He allowed himself a grimace but swallowed the grunt of pain that shot through his lower body.

A minute passed but no attempt was made to right himself. The dark-haired man just leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, and closed his eyes, not knowing exactly what to think. Not a thought came to his mind. All that came up were emotions, the bottled up feelings that he struggled to suppress; pain, nausea, and fury. He nursed a headache with a hand at his temple, gently massaging it before dropping it listlessly. He could have only dreamed of how much the night before had taken a toll on his body. Vegeta blamed himself, for all of the discomfort he felt at that moment he had brought upon himself out of his own ignorance and carelessness. The vulnerability he felt was enough to increase the ever-mounting nausea that burned in his throat.

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot...

As sleep, the cruel mistress that he had yearned for so desperately while lying in bed, finally overtook him mercifully, a final thought rang out in his mind that reflected the very truths that plagued him so. It haunted him to the point that it was his driving force, his motivation for every action he now committed to protect his own life. A life that they had claimed was so precious, once, a long time ago.

It will be over soon...

She promised me...


-


Chichi steered her car into the parking lot of the apartment complex Bulma had specified. She giggled at the accuracy of the written directions, a sloppily drawn note with a big hill and a tiny little building with arrows that pointed to it saying, 'HERE! Don't pass me, I'm hiding!' Chichi shook her head remembering Bulma's earlier display of enthusiasm as she packed up her things into her duffel bag, gushing that she would arrange the furniture so nicely that the apartment would look just like her old room.

Chichi still remained a little puzzled as to how she had gotten all of the furniture out of her room and into her new place without her parents noticing anything, as they were bound to if she planned on hauling out all of her belongings by the truckload, but she figured that Bulma had devised a foolproof plan to execute the task discreetly. She turned off her car lights and enveloped herself almost completely in darkness, save for the weak lights outside of the complex. It was a cool, Sunday night, and Chichi had rolled down her windows to let the breeze in while she drove, but she quickly rolled them up once she realized how dark it was once her lights were turned off.

She opened the door to let herself out and pushed it shut with her foot. She approached the stoop and pressed her friend's room number, 1009, and heard the resulting buzz. Chichi was practically brimming with excitement and anticipation as Bulma buzzed her in, but then she became a little irritated with her friend for not checking whether or not it was indeed her by utilizing the intercom. She realized that her friend might not have thought about how dangerous forgetting to do these things might be, however silly she might perceive them to be, and Chichi firmly decided that she would have to talk to her about it, among other safety precautions, the moment she got upstairs.

The temperature of the building was like a freezer, almost, and Chichi shivered due to the unexpected change. The lobby looked particularly unkempt, with a dead plant in the corner. She pushed the 'UP' button for the elevator, but the button did not light up. The uncooperative device only fueled her irritation, and she sighed, pressing it harder. After a couple more tries, the arrow illuminated. She crossed her arms and stood with one foot out.

'Of course Bulma wont be able to afford the best place if she's wanting to get by with her own money, it's all right.' She rationalized softly in a futile attempt to compose herself. 'The place won't be a dump, she'll clean it up, otherwise she wouldn't even bother considering it.' She took a deep breath and waited. And waited.

The lift arrived and she stepped into it with some impatience. In her opinion, the thing was now untrustworthy, as it was either as old as the building appeared to be or slow as hell. The buttons inside were even more messed up than the up/down buttons, and it seemed like it the task to get it moving would take her longer than it had to coax it down. She pressed the 0button repeatedly, pushing harder and harder than the attempt before, but to no avail. She stopped in frustration and let the doors slide shut, as she stood in the lift unmoving, remaining on the first floor. Suddenly, the familiar sound of her jingly ringtone filled the air and she answered it, completely abandoning her efforts to work the stubborn elevator.

"Hello?"

"Chichi." A rough voice stated, sounding even more menacing than real life through the ear-piece of her cellphone. The familiar displeased tone was what struck her recognition, as the number had looked foreign and unfamiliar flashing on the screen moments before. Her curiosity faded and her irritation returned with overwhelming force as she adopted a mocking tone of voice.

"Why hello, Vegeta, how may I help you this fine evening?" Chichi chirped, a false smile adorning her features.

"I'm changing it to Tuesday," He remarked gruffly with a firm tone of finality. Color rose to Chichi's face as her anger increased dangerously.

"Oh no you don't! You will not put this off another second, do you-"

A small beep signified that the call had been disconnected.

A moment of complete silence enveloped the small elevator as Chichi's mouth hung open in disbelief. She bent her head down in effort to suppress her yell of outrage, but she unleashed it with little resistance.

"ARRRGH!" Chichi screeched aloud to the cramped and empty elevator. That bastard had hung up on her! Mid-sentence! She berated him loudly as if he were still on the phone that remained open and silent in her hand, the line dead.

"You are such a fucking asshole! How dare you hang up on me! Arrogant little son of a bitch!" She gripped the railing that lined the inside of the lift to steady herself from her outburst. All of the insults and quips and retorts that she had bitten back or suppressed had come out through those words. She suddenly regretted how she had spoken to him for those few seconds he was on the line, and how it had gone against most of the rules she had set up for herself for her plan.

What if you had really said that to his face? How many days of hard work would I have undone? Chichi straightened herself up and dusted off her customary jeans that she wore religiously on her off days. She put her head in her hands for a moment, then pushed them upward and through her hair, inhaling deeply in a crude attempt to mask her indignation. While that had been certainly no good way to talk to him, whether he was listening or not, damn, it felt good.

Chichi had calmed down immensely from her short tirade, and with a clear head once again mulled over a predicament that she had faced for a long while. Although he was not much of a conversationalist, as was apparent through her years of working with him, her exchanges with Vegeta were some of the most important things she had to monitor in order to piece things together once and for all. She sat down in the elevator and sighed, hoping she wouldn't be disturbed during her contemplations. She certainly would have her overbearing boss all figured out soon enough, but what remained of her intricate puzzle never ceased to confuse her, and push her to her limits. She had to think of all of the possibilities, but she seemed to be leaving something out.

To tell the truth, when explaining to Bulma about her job, she hadn't divulged all of Seiya Corp's workings to her; in fact, she had left many things out that she assumed her friend would figure out for herself in time. She had purposefully avoided talking about her job around her friends and family as much as possible as to not give herself away, but she knew now was the time to incorporate her friend's genius into her plans, especially now that she was desperately in need and it would be convenient for the both of them. If Bulma was the girl Chichi knew her to be, which she surely was, her curiosity would lead her along the same path Chichi had walked on for years.

She hadn't always been like this. From the first months of working at Seiya Corp, Chichi knew that there was something not quite right about the company, that there was something she wasn't being told. She quickly moved to action, seeking out what exactly was being hidden from her sight, but at the time, she had little to go on to suspect her employers of treachery, and could do little to investigate her hunch. Back when she had first started working, Vegeta hadn't yet been her supervisor, and wasn't affiliated with the department in any way, to her knowledge. He almost appeared out of thin air.

However, a man named Radditz was supervisor of the department when she had first begun work there, and he had been in the position for quite some time. Radditz had been very kind, and even though he didn't seem very professional to her at the time, she learned that he was a very productive man and a force to be reckoned with concerning the treatment of business affairs. He had a strong sense of luck and intuition, and if he invested in a company that seemed like the underdog just on a feeling, it almost always would skyrocket. She had gotten to know him very well, but therein lied the first hitch in her dream job; she doubted the sincerity of the company itself.

Chichi, when she was first hired for the job, had originally thought that it was a company that managed banking affairs, but hardly anything she had done at work had much to do with money or finances at all, to her surprise. Instead, she was wading through those seemingly meaningless reports and files, and Radditz managed the accounts himself. She thought it very strange that she wasn't placed in that sector of the department, and found it a waste to hire business majors to work for a company that supposedly managed financial-related things, and not have them deal with the accounts at all.

Secondly, she couldn't understand the importance of tracking the whereabouts and actions of the top guys of the company, if they carried enough trust to be as high up in the rankings as they were in the first place. After that, Chichi began to view almost everything as busy work and unimportant, and while she had tried convincing some of her coworkers that there was something fishy going on, they ignored her suspicions and carried on.

She found it unbelievable that none of her coworkers, to her knowledge, had caught on to the suspicious activity around the company or at least asked what they were really doing, but at the same time she wasn't surprised that people didn't complain. After all, they got a paycheck every month, and they were paid well for the bordering-on menial work they put up with every day.

This continued for a year and a half, until Radditz was replaced, and she hadn't seen Radditz since the very last day that he went to work. He hadn't told her or anyone working in the department that he would be leaving, it was sprung upon them with no prior notice, and she now had reason to believe that it was a surprise to Radditz as well, but she had no proof. Vegeta seemed to have come out of nowhere, as she had never seen him before and had little knowledge of him working at the office before, but she didn't have the employment records, so she couldn't be too sure.

He was very strange in comparison to Radditz. For one thing, he held a widespread influence over the lower branches of the company from the very beginning, even though she hadn't seen before in her life, and his power had even percolated through to some other higher-ranking departments. Another thing was that he maintained an almost paranoid secrecy regarding his work and filled in no one on his doings, which she came to realize was the reason why the assistants seemed to be going in and out through a revolving door. His behavior was so intriguing that she had consistently investigated him since the day he arrived, and had hoped to get on his good side so she could perhaps squeeze some information out of him regarding the true nature of Seiya Corp, but the man was a stone wall to her, and still revealed nothing after a year and a half. Chichi convinced herself that she was not to blame for that, because she had tried hard enough and obviously the man had cut himself off from connections to others completely.

She was filled with dislike for the man, and just thinking about the baseless insults and arrogant belittlement he subjected her and the other employees to constantly only made her anticipate the revenge that she would one day, surely, bring upon him. Chichi wasn't giving up, though, she still sought to discover the twisted underbelly of the company, and she was on the cusp of a great discovery, she could feel it.

The elevators door pulled open and Chichi gasped in surprise as an old woman crept in, not giving Chichi a second glance as she scrambled up from the ground. She brushed herself off in embarrassment, but the old woman still seemed to not have seen her do so or even care.

"What floor?" The old woman asked shakily.

"Huh? Oh... Ten." She answered, watching curiously as the old woman rammed the button in with her cane, the button blinking in response and becoming unstuck. Chichi sighed in relief, she would see Bulma soon, who was probably getting worried, now that she had been sitting in the elevator for twenty minutes thinking to herself. She looked forward to seeing the apartment, but hoped she would escape the elevator unscathed, as the old woman was now looking at her with a manic gaze.


-


Bulma grunted loudly as she lifted up the mattress and flipped it over onto the bed frame with a thud. She readjusted it, and then stood back, admiring her work as she wiped the perspiration off her forehead. Having borrowed a Capsule Corp truck used for transporting supplies, she had brought over all of her furniture and moved everything all by herself. Well, everything once it was inside her apartment, of course. She left the dirty work to some of her father's employees, some poor interns that she had so expertly wheedled into assisting her. While she did somewhat enjoy their torture, she paid them graciously and was very happy to finally get to work on arranging the furniture, which was a pastime that she frequently employed back in her own room at home.

That was six hours ago, and now all she had to do was make her bed and she was finished. Completely done, aside from unpacking her clothes, which she would attend to soon enough. Her satisfaction emanated out of her in waves, and to her, every room seemed to brighten once she walked into it. While she was disappointed that she didn't have enough furniture to fill up the whole apartment (she had just brought the furniture from her bedroom, not her media room, her study, her office, or her sitting room, after all), she reassured herself that she would soon be able to afford more, and decorate it as much as she wanted to in time.

It hadn't been difficult to satisfy her mother's ever-present curiosity when she had the interns loading up the truck with her furniture. She had simply explained that Chichi was giving away her old furniture and she thought she should as well, but as a result of her lie, she could not bring all of it with her because it would definitely arouse suspicion. It was almost a useless gesture, as her parents seldom entered her room anyway and would probably never notice the absence of all her furniture, but she felt as if she should take precautions regardless. On her way out, she managed to bring along a few things she forgot to pack in the first place, including some small pictures and things that she had missed looking at. She ended up taking a small bulletin board with her because she liked every single one of the pictures on it as she looked good in every single one: pictures of her and Chichi, with Yaumcha, and with her family. Sometimes, everyone was scrunched into one picture, doing typical peace signs and rabbit ears on one another.

Bulma pushed her silky hair behind her ears and looked up at the board that she had put up earlier that day on the wall above her bed. Her eyes honed in on an intimate picture of herself and Yaumcha, getting their picture taken by Chichi at Capsule Corp's annual New Years Eve party. Their arms were wrapped around one another, and he was kissing her cheek while fireworks exploded colorfully on the dark, endless canvas behind them, speckled with light. Her cheeks were flushed in the picture, as she had not expected for Yaumcha to kiss her so suddenly and she was embarrassed that Chichi's quick hand was going to take a picture of it, but after the photos had been developed she had been glad that she had such a sweet picture of her and her boyfriend.

Now she wasn't so sure if she wanted the picture anymore at all. She felt a sudden urge to yank it off the bulletin board and tear it up into pieces but her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. She leapt and giggled with glee, heading toward the door and knowing exactly who it was. She turned the handle and pulled at the door, but it wouldn't budge. She pulled again, a bit harder, but to no avail.

"Chichi? This door is kinda tricky, sorry, hold on a second..." She yelled through the door. Bulma yanked on it desperately and mumbled to herself choice words in frustration. 'The agent said he would fix it, but he didn't say when, that slimy bastard!'

"Bulma? Should I push on it?" Chichi said through the door anxiously. She had managed to find the apartment all right, once escaping the crazy old woman on the lift.

"Uh...yeah! Turn the knob and ram your shoulder into it, that should do. " That's what the agent had done. "Just let me know on three, I don't want to get hit in the face!" Her comment was greeted by a laugh heard through the slab of wood.

"I should do it early just to spite you..." Chichi giggled. She turned the handle and readied her shoulder. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Ready?"

"You wouldn't dare! I'd get a frying pan and hit you in the head with it if you tried that. Yeah, I'm ready. Okay. One... Two... Three!"

Chichi pushed the door hard with her shoulder and stumbled in the apartment, the tiles slippery from Bulma's fresh mopping. Chichi flailed her arms, almost falling over, but her friend steadied her. As Bulma caught her and helped her regained her footing, they both looked at each other, then at the door, and burst out laughing.

"I guess that will be the routine from now on, huh?" Chichi said.

"Oh, shut up." Bulma retorted, looking back at the door with a concerned look. "I have to call Mark, the agent guy. That could be dangerous, you almost fell over!" She thought for a moment. "Or I could just fix it myself when I have time." Chichi nodded, giving her an encouraging look.

"I think it's kind of a cute quirk." Chichi said thoughtfully. Bulma shook her head at her friend's infallible effort to look on the bright side of things. Sure, it would just be an adorable quirk until she got smacked in the face by the thing. She could see it happening already, and she took a mental note to fix it as soon as possible.

"Oh, I'll show you around!" Bulma squealed enthusiastically, almost forgetting about the newly furnished apartment behind her because of her worries about the door getting fixed. Chichi slipped her shoes off and followed her, commenting along the way.

The entrance was a short hallway with a patch of hardwood floor by the door for people to take off their shoes at. In the hallway there was a coat closet, which remained empty for the moment as Bulma hadn't gotten around to unpacking her massive amount of clothes yet. Continuing up the hallway, on the left was a small kitchenette, furnished with a makeshift folding table and chairs that Bulma assured her friend she would replace as soon as humanly possible. On the right was a medium sized den, which had ivory-colored leather couches and chairs, along with a door in the back corner to a small half-bathroom. The couches and chairs themselves were pointed towards an empty wall, and Chichi assumed that Bulma intended to put a TV there sometime, probably as soon as possible, knowing Bulma's love for television. The door at the very end of the hallway opened up to be Bulma's room, complete with king-sized bed and a laptop-adorned desk, and another door at the far end of the room she assumed led to the second bathroom.

"Wow, you even took the pictures you had on the walls with you! How did you manage that?" Chichi asked, impressed at her friend's sneaky maneuvers to take most of her belongings with her without arousing suspicion. Bulma smiled knowingly, and the two of them turned back to the den.

"There are so many things you could do with this." Chichi thought aloud. "It's a little plain right now, but add a few pillows, rugs, and pictures, and a TV too, and it'll be spectacular!" She beamed at Bulma, who nodded in agreement, but with a tinge of sadness. Chichi felt bad the moment her friend let her disappointment slip up.

"Aw, Bulma..." Chichi said quietly in a concerned voice. "Do you want me to lend you some of my stuff? I know it seems kind of empty in here, but you can call me if you get lonely."

Bulma had been expecting Chichi's kind offer to lend her some things, but she was all too prepared for it, and quickly declined. "No thanks. I owe you enough." Chichi waved her hand modestly. "I'm glad you like it, though."

"Oh, I really do! It's surprisingly big, actually... Judging from the building itself you'd think that they'd only have studio apartments or something." Chichi said with distaste, but with no intent to offend. Bulma nodded strongly, and told her she had felt the exact same thing.

"Oh yeah, there's a balcony, too." Bulma added on. Chichi perked up immediately.

"Really? Where's it hiding?"

Bulma smiled and pointed towards the back of the den next to the bathroom door. "See those shades? Once you pull those back there's a sliding door." Bulma led her excited friend through the room and opened the vertical blinds, sliding open the screen door and welcoming her friend outside. There were a couple of outdoor chairs but little else adorning the balcony, and Chichi could see, just over the hill, the city landscape that lay beyond.

"Wow! The view is really nice!" Chichi exclaimed in surprise. She didn't think they would be able to look over the hill, and suddenly felt sorry for those who had apartments facing this direction but on lower floors, who surely wouldn't be able to see over it. The light of the city seemed to cast a halo around it, and they both could even see the towering structures that marked Capsule Corp from there. Bulma had initially thought that it was a little too depressing to see her first home from the doorstep of her new one, but changed her view once she had looked out towards it more than once. Instead of making her homesick, she felt relieved, and maybe even comforted, by its presence, perhaps because she knew that if she needed help that it wasn't too far away. Making her way to one of the chairs, she sat and invited her friend to do the same.

"Come sit. It's nice out and you can prep me for my interview tomorrow!" Bulma smiled playfully. Chichi sat but with a pout on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just an inconvenience. On my way up when I was in the elevator, Vegeta gave me a call and told me that he was changing your interview to Tuesday. I couldn't get a word out before he hung up on me. What a dick, right?" Chichi sighed with irritation and sunk herself a bit lower in her chair.

Bulma was mildly disappointed but at the same time relieved. "That's fine, it just gives me more time to prepare." Bulma grinned. "He won't know what hit him."

Chichi gave a little smile, straightening up. "That's right!"

Bulma laughed along too, but then quickly got up. "I'm kinda thirsty. Want something?" She asked, clearing her throat. When Chichi shook her head, she opened the screen door and padded inside, getting bottled water from the fridge. "So, what do I need to know?" She inquired loudly while fiddling with the cap.

Chichi pondered that for a moment. She had expected her friend to be less broad with her questions and a bit more direct, as she tended to be. She didn't want her to know too much about the company, otherwise she would get suspicious, but hint enough to intrigue her like she had the last time she talked with her about it. It would be a difficult task, but Chichi began to forewarn Bulma against all of the traps that Vegeta would set up for her to make her sound like an idiot, but Chichi doubted Bulma would be nervous or foolhardy enough to entangle herself in one. No, it wasn't the traps she was worried about, it was simply Vegeta's presence. It would be easy for anyone to get caught up in his attempts to intimidate.

Bulma was a very dominant and bossy person, and didn't like it when things didn't go her way. Chichi knew that Bulma would most certainly be surprised at how helpless she would be in a world where she was not the boss anymore. She would find out soon enough what Vegeta was like, in the flesh, and the dangers his presence posed to Chichi, from not knowing the truth about the world that was slowly consuming her.


-


A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! That was a long one...with a lot of introspection with Chichi, whew! The next one should come soon, I hope...in a week, or so. It's been taking me awhile, but I'll crank it out.
Thanks for reading.

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