Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Too Close for Comfort ❯ Drawn In ( Chapter 10 )

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

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: I'm on a roll, I'm actually ahead on writing! I finally fixed all of the layout problems with the previous chapters. Now I never have to look at them again! Haha.

I think you guys will really enjoy this chapter. I want to thank everyone for your reviews. They really are my motivation to keep writing, and I love to hear what you think, good and bad! Thank you so much!





Too Close for Comfort





Chapter 10 –  Drawn In






Vegeta abruptly awoke to the sound of a door slamming in the hallway of his complex. He sat up in bed quickly, trying to comprehend through his alarm and drowsy stupor whether the current situation was dire. He groggily realized that, no, the building was not on fire, and no, he wasn't being burglarized, yet as he collapsed back onto his bed and closed his eyes, he already knew that after that particular interruption he would be getting no more sleep that night.

He groaned out loud to no one in particular. His muscles were twitching in excitement, ready for activity. He shook his head and kicked his legs out, willing it to go away. He was reminded of the other day when he and Kakarott, goofing off as usual in his office, somehow got to the subject of Vegeta's sleeping problems. When Vegeta had described the sensation of his entire body wanting to keep moving when all he wanted to do was sleep, Kakarott had said, “So... It's like, your whole body has Restless Leg Syndrome, so it's like Restless Body Syndrome!” Vegeta wanted to punch him for the stupid comparison, and for his lack of assistance in the matter, but really, what had he been expecting? He should have known better than to say anything at all.

After thinking about it a bit more, it became obvious what the root of the problem was, but it was something that he couldn't control, or rather, he no longer had the option to control it. They were making his injections far too close together and he was becoming, well, restless. He looked at his alarm clock, and he supposed that 4:52 AM was as good a time as any to rouse himself, as he was feeling wide awake, so he rolled out of bed and onto his feet.

At first his appointments were set at least two weeks apart in order to fully monitor the effects of the drug, but now he found himself coming in twice weekly for those foolish injections. He was glad that he no longer had to do full physicals over and over, and now all that was required of him was a weight check and a short questionnaire covering his well being.

He stretched his arms up and out after rubbing his eyes. He chuckled a bit to himself at how awake he really was, thinking about how it was funny in a way how all of this had gotten started and how amazing his progress felt at first, and how soon it was scheduled to all be over. He wasn't sure if he would miss it or not. The effects were supposed to be permanent, but that was still a point of debate.

Vegeta walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light, and looked in the mirror, examining his face closely. It was far better seeing himself looking healthy rather than beaten up, even if it had been only a few times. It was necessary as part of the study he was taking part in, but that was one aspect of it he wished he could do away with. He was familiar with fighting, both verbally and physically as he was a confrontational person, but when the intent was to get as beaten up as possible and test the limits of his body, he wanted it to stop. He desired a fair fight, one he could win. There was no winning in the open brawls the experiment necessitated. Some of those guys would be difficult to beat regardless of the circumstances, but now it was just impossible, and he hated it.

Vegeta had always been physically fit from the time he was a young boy, being involved in sports like karate, judo, and football. When he entered his 20's, he had avoided putting on any extra pounds by lifting weights and going running nearly every day, finding that it calmed him and allowed him to think about something else besides his stressful work life. Back then, he had always wanted to be the best, both at work and at the gym, and while he understood his past sentiment, he now realized that it was all for nothing. He saw now that no matter what path he might have ended up taking, it probably would have led to here.

After a few years of keeping his old workout regime, he could feel himself slipping, and he wasn't able to do what had been so easy to him before. He had reached a plateau, and it was all downhill from there. His lifts dropped and his running endurance dwindled. Frustrated, he struggled to push himself forward but found his efforts useless no matter how strong his motivation was. His feelings of disappointment in himself and desire to become what he considered “better” ultimately led him to taking part in the experiment a year and a half ago.

Through his father and his job at Seiya Corp, he came to know a man, Doctor, who had invented a new super-hormone called “SOS”, originally concocted to sell to the military to buff up recruits, to enhance their strength and cognitive abilities. While they had the funds to retain hundreds of men to test the new formula on, Doctor preferred to first test the formula on men that he was already acquainted with, as he could assess the personality changes associated with the drug more effectively. This would require the participant's full consent, of course, and after seeing a few friends go through the process, Vegeta had decided he'd give it a shot.

To Doctor's disappointment, Vegeta hadn't turned into a cold hard killing machine, and while Vegeta had attributed the lack of change to the similarity of the desired end result to his own innate personality (he wasn't exactly winning awards for his congeniality), he had been glad that it hadn't changed him  completely, as that had been the biggest risk. His initial trepidation of participating in the tests were the predicted emotional “adjustments”, and even though he didn't have much, he enjoyed his feelings of humanity and morality, and was happy that S.O.S hadn't mucked with it.

Chichi had mentioned the funding from the military and expressed confusion in her findings, not being able to detect anything Seiya Corp might be doing that would earn such unprecedented revenue, and the experiment he was taking part in was only a small part of this. There was so much more for her to know, but judging by her reactions the day before, he was again unsure he would tell her. Only time could tell, and he came to the conclusion that if he did tell her anything, he would leave himself out of it, as she would label him as selfish and admonish him for putting himself in danger, and he didn't want to hear it. Least of all from her. Even so, that information was only the tip of the iceberg in regards to the secrets behind Seiya Corp, so he figured if it didn't effect the overall outcome there was no harm in leaving it out.

He reflected more upon the conversation he shared with Chichi the previous day. She had seemed so confident before, so sure. Vegeta had been convinced that she knew more, but it turned out for that not to be the case, and he felt foolish for letting himself get carried away. It must have been led by an innate desire of his to have someone else finally understand, someone he could talk to, but the idea had been flawed at its inception. Chichi was the wrong person to confide in simply because of her overzealous interest in Seiya Corp that he was sure was led by her own selfish desire for success and understanding, but now it was too late. He had let her in by allowing her to tell him what she knew, and now he was forced to somehow include her, but thinking about it now, what would he do with her? His new assistant would be far more useful, yet he doubted that Chichi would allow her friend's involvement were she not involved as well.

Perhaps he could let things happen organically. He could detect that Bulma was a smart woman and it wouldn't take long for her to figure out even more than her friend had managed to, and just judging by what little he knew of her character, he could easily imagine that she would choose to keep it to herself until she had all of the information she could possibly garner and then act upon it. Chichi was more emotional, and while Bulma seemed to be led by emotions herself, he thought her to be far more rational.

If Vegeta wanted anyone to be helping him, as much as he hated to admit that he needed any assistance, he wanted it to be Bulma. It was so easy to say it now before he really knew her, but he could see her clearly by his side, helping him work out the kinks in everything, innovating his entire approach to the complicated situation he was in, to some sort of conclusion that he couldn't yet place.

He had to get her to meet Doctor. He didn't know how he was going to do it, or how to arrange it to make it seem natural. Once they met, he was sure that would jump-start her brain and she would work her way up from there.

Vegeta was smart, but not as smart as he needed to be. In order to gain favor so he could gather more information, he needed to be a genius so he could suggest new technological ideas, and while he had an MBA, those skills were not quite related to what needed to be done. This was where Bulma would come in, hopefully, if she was willing to assist him. He would have to keep working on that. Get closer to her, maybe get her to trust him, and she would be more keen to hear the things he wanted to tell her. Vegeta could sense that she kept her sharp tongue to herself because she had to, and in order for her to want to listen to him, she would have to at least like him a little bit. As a person, not in a romantic way...

He frowned at himself in the mirror, rubbing his chin, which was becoming a bit scruffy. Anyone with half a brain could tell that his new assistant Bulma was very attractive. It was an instinctual thing. Even though she was petite, her legs were quite long and were shaped nicely. Not skinny chicken-legs, and not bodacious curvy ones, simply nice looking. She dressed in a feminine style that flattered her slight hourglass figure, accentuating her small waist, which Vegeta noticed had already caught the attention of several men in the office. He only felt derision for them in that moment. Every time he hired a new assistant they saw her as new eye candy, and while the suggestive remarks they had made to his previous assistants only made him laugh (as long as they weren't over-the-top inappropriate, although he found those to be funny sometimes too), he really hoped they wouldn't do that to Bulma. He felt she was too good for that.

Her peculiar coloring also added some intrigue. He hadn't seen hair quite like hers before. He wasn't going to lie, he thought her to be a very good looking woman, which was odd for him, since he was very, very picky about women, as most that he found physically attractive repulsed him mentally, and vice versa. Bulma somehow had both going for her; she was intelligent but not in-your-face about it (most of the time), and she had a quiet beauty about her that he liked.

He admitted to himself that his own interest in her came about partially because she had absolutely none in him, or not obviously, anyway. Once a woman liked him, he automatically thought there must be something wrong with her. Not out of low self confidence, oh no, he knew he was plenty egotistical, but he was self aware of his type. He wasn't handsome in the traditional sense, he didn't think, aside from his muscular stature, but more in a dangerous and exotic bad-boy type of way. Any woman that was trying her best to attract him right from the beginning he thought to be desiring a man of his stereotype, not him as who he was, even if he might fit into it well. This helped him if he was looking for something that wouldn't last very long, which admittedly, was what he usually had in mind, but for him to be legitimately attracted to a woman it was difficult for everything to match up for him.

He sighed, grabbing the shaving cream out of the medicine cabinet. For someone who works for me, I'm paying far too much attention to her appearance.

Vegeta had hired many attractive women before, yet he hadn't found himself personally drawn to any of them. Part of it was a mental block, as he didn't want to complicate matters at work, the other part was the wanton behavior on the part of the women he hired. He had previously attempted to hire women who liked him and wanted to please him, since he deduced it would be easier to convince them to assist him if they were attracted to him, but when he found that none of the women were really that intelligent, he found them to be useless and disposed of them.

Nancy in particular had been annoying in her advances, which he found even more annoying once he realized the piece of paper stating she had a degree in engineering meant jack and shit since the only intelligence she seemed to show was filing his papers in alphabetical order, but even worse had been his assistant before that, Alexa. To the delight of his underlings, she started showing up to work wearing increasingly provocative clothing in an attempt to seduce him. He had thought it was funny at first, and hell, he thought it was sort of intriguing, but it was quickly becoming a distraction for other men in the office and she hadn't shown much intellectual prowess either, again, despite her degree and her father's involvement in the scientific community.

Bulma, on the other hand, was just as intelligent as her several degrees claimed she was, and she was witty and fiery to boot, even if she kept it bottled up most of the time for the sake of being appropriate. He couldn't help but smirk every time he said something to her, purposefully baiting her, and her mouth would tighten into a thin line for a moment, as if suppressing a nasty retort, and then she would respond with what seemed like a watered down version of what she originally intended to say. At least, that was how Vegeta interpreted it.

Just the day before, almost everyone had gone home and she had been nearly jumping out of her seat in anticipation to go home and do whatever it was she needed to do. He had beckoned her into his office and she came in with a hopeful little smile, thinking he would tell her she could leave. Instead, he asked her to go back and reorder the reports handed in for that day, guaranteeing her at least another hour of work. Her face fell like that of an admonished child, and he watched with glee as her face contorted into a confused frown as she bluntly let out her feelings.

“I thought you were going to tell me I could go home...”

“Hn. Nope.” He looked back to his computer, and as she turned away, he stopped her. “Oh, and go downstairs to the cafeteria and get me a sandwich.”

He couldn't control the twisted smile from spreading across his features, flashing her his teeth. He rarely grinned that big, but it had just come out full force. She froze mid-step, and slowly turned around, her mouth forming that thin line again. Her expression already said it all. Did you just ask me to get you a fucking sandwich? He chuckled at the memory, reliving the sick pleasure he felt from pissing her off over something so little. Her lips pouted for moment, and then she broke into a grin herself, yet he could detect a certain slyness beneath it.

“Well of course, Vegeta. I'll be right back.” She nearly sang out, walking calmly out of his office. As she walked away towards the back of the office to the elevator, he could see her shaking her head to herself, saying something. Rather than making him angry, it just amused him more. He realized he was being a little cruel, but he was enjoying every second of it. Even though he had first intended it as a joke to see if she would actually do it, he was hungry and busy, damn it, and it was her job to do what he asked her to do, even if it was slightly demeaning.

She was back upstairs in barely three minutes with his sandwich. She had gently set it on his desk with a smile and walked away without a word, which he hadn't minded. Just twenty minutes later she poked her head back in.

“Hey Vegeta, I'm done, so, do you need anything else or can I go now?” Her tone of absolute confidence caused him to look up.

“You're done already?”

She paused long enough for her sly smile to return. “Uh huh.”

He nodded slightly, perhaps out of recognition. He couldn't mask his surprise. She had completed an hours work in twenty minutes and she was rubbing it in. He would certainly have to check up on it later just because she had finished so fast, but he knew she was no slacker and she had probably completed it legitimately. He simply turned away from her and waved his hand, signaling she could go. She lingered at the door for a moment.

“Hey.”

He swiveled back around in his chair.

“What?” He asked.

She smiled at him and gave him a little wave. “Bye Vegeta. See you tomorrow.” She turned and walked away, and Vegeta had been caught off guard. She had wanted him to acknowledge her as she bid him goodbye, which he understood, but at the same time didn't. Why had she found that necessary?

Simply put, Vegeta found her interesting. She had been easy to get a hold of, which was very fortunate for him, as the majority of the people who could possibly help him were doing something related to their field and were therefore unattainable. He could tell that regardless of her quick temper, on the inside she was a good and optimistic person, which would help him in his plans, and every act of kindness towards him didn't seem to be in a self serving manner, which somehow pleased him greatly. There was a big difference in someone smiling at you because they felt like they had to in order to move up in the world (perhaps even in an attempt to bed their boss, earning themselves a good position based upon his favor) and someone smiling because they wanted to, as it came naturally. Every time she smiled at him, there were little undertones in what she was trying to express with it. He supposed everyone was like that, but each time, she was earnest with it. She simply felt different.

So, mentally, she was a definite step up from his previous assistants, as she was a bit more of a challenge even though they were hardly on even ground, and she didn't attempt to be obsequious with him, which he liked. He thanked his lucky stars she had somehow fallen into his lap, or more like Chichi had put her there.

Now, he just had to get her to trust him, or want to trust him, and he felt a little nauseated by the idea of being forced to be nice to her, so how was he going to do it?

He shook his head and began lathering up his face for a shave. She should just try and seduce me. That would make everything so much easier.



-



“Now, Vegeta tends to do something to his assistants...”

Time to panic. “Oh god, what?”

“Well... He keeps them for a very short period of time, and then he fires them.”

A pause. “Oh... That's it?”

“What did you think I meant?”

Bulma looked up at Goku, her eyebrow raised. “Are you really that naïve?”

“Huh?”

The ding of the elevator sounded and they both stepped out. It was Friday morning, and they had both been walking up to the building at the same time and had subsequently fallen into an engrossing conversation where Goku was trying to warn her about something, but she had to tease it out of him.  

“I thought it was going to be something really legitimately bad.” She said.

“You think being fired suddenly without any specific reason isn't bad!?” Goku exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. “I'd consider that terrible!”

They reached her office and Bulma set down her Chanel bag in a desk drawer.“Heh.” Bulma took a haughty tone, only half joking. “He wouldn't dare fire me.”

Goku rubbed the back of his head, leaning against her door jamb. “I dunno, Bulma, you shouldn't get too confident. Vegeta's pretty hard to predict.”

Bulma nodded, thinking it over for a moment. Vegeta seemed to like her okay, as he wasn't as rude to her as he was the first couple of days, but that wasn't a hard thing to accomplish since he had been keeping their communication to a minimum. He had made expectations pretty clear for her; take messages, keep everything organized, do whatever he asked her to, and make coffee.

“Yeah...” She replied halfheartedly, her mind somewhere else.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sullen looking Chichi walking by, and she just about knocked Goku over as she ran to her.

“Chichi!” She said in a worried tone, grabbing her friend's arm. When Chichi turned to look at her,  Bulma couldn't stifle a gasp. She looked as if she hadn't slept all night. Bulma felt really bad for her, knowing that the meeting the day before didn't look like it went well, but she didn't think it had been that bad, after what Chichi had said to her after.

“Ugh, Vegeta is such a jerk. He and I are going to talk more tomorrow, but as I'm officially not in trouble, I'm going to relax for today. I'll talk to you after work.”

Even though that hadn't explained everything, Bulma had felt confident that everything would be okay. In an uncharacteristic move, however, Chichi had skipped out rather quickly after work. Since Vegeta made Bulma stay longer to do some silly stuff for him, she didn't have the chance to catch up with her, and Chichi hadn't returned her calls or texts. Bulma assumed Chichi needed some space to think things over, and she rationalized Chichi's behavior to herself, knowing that sometimes she could shut up like a clam when under stress. Bulma thought she should keep her distance, but that didn't stop her from getting anxious anyway. Whenever her friend did this, she would get so irrationally worried, since most of the time Chichi did this it turned out to be over trivial things, but when it came to this particular time, Bulma had a bad feeling.

Chichi only looked at her with no response, as if she could tell what Bulma was thinking. “Chichi, are you okay?”

Chichi rubbed her eyes a bit, again signifying that she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. “Yeah, I'm alright.” She laid her purse down on her desk, and when she looked up again she noticed Goku standing a bit behind Bulma with a sheepish look on his face. If she had the energy, she would have acknowledged him. “I have to go straight in to see Vegeta, but I'll talk to you after work, and I won't skip out this time, okay?” Chichi somehow managed a small smile even though she looked and felt terrible, just to solidify her sincerity, and Bulma appreciated the gesture.

She looked behind her to see Vegeta staring right at them through the glass. She was a little surprised by this, unnerved that he had been watching without her knowing. Once he made eye contact with Chichi, he raised one eyebrow, as if asking a question. Bulma looked back to Chichi, wanting to ask a few questions herself.

Chichi began slowly inching over to Vegeta's office, turning back to say, “I'll talk to you later, B.” Bulma nodded, feeling a little sick as Chichi opened the door to the office and walked in. She sighed out of frustration and worry, hating that she didn't know what was going on.

“Wow, she didn't look so good.” Goku said behind her in a concerned tone.

“No...” She put her hand up to her face out of worry. “No, she didn't...”



-




Chichi stood by the side of Vegeta's desk, running her hand over it absently. Vegeta still looked at her with a questioning glare, and she tried not to think about it, since it would just make her more furious. She felt the whole situation was so unfair, so messed up, but she had no one to thank but herself, and certainly Vegeta didn't feel any different. Were she to ask, he would be happy to fill her in on just how much of a fool she had been, agreeing to his silly demands without knowing exactly what she had been agreeing to, but out of her curiosity she had thrown caution to the wind and acted impulsively.

As much as she regretted that, she knew she had to answer for her actions. To her irritation, she was being strong-armed into a situation where there was only one right answer, Vegeta's answer. She loathed being a participant in his game now more than ever. She pointedly looked away from him, not afraid to show her hatred for him in that moment.

Vegeta wasn't in the mood for her pouting.

“Well?”

She finally looked at him, staring at him hard, trying to put all of her feeling into her eyes so that hopefully he would understand what he was making her do, and how much it hurt her, and could potentially hurt her friendship. What she saw looking back was nothing but an emotionless void...

It scared her.

Does he feel anything?

“You already know, you bastard... You already know.”



-


A/N: Hope you guys liked it! Getting a little sci-fi here... Please review!
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