Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Uber Babe ❯ Chapter 2

A/N: I hadn't originally intended to make Über Babe anything more than a one-shot, but writing it amused me. So here's some more. Amuse yourselves with it, my treat.

Kudos to the reader who correctly identified Dude (Looks Like a Lady) as the original inspiration for this fic. I put a teeny tiny reference to another Aerosmith song in this chapter- find it if you can! Hint: this song is also a Big One.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. I don't want to own DBZ. I just want to fiddle around with the characters now and then.


"Wakey, wakey sunshine!"

Vegeta pulled his pillow over his head with a groan. The insane woman he had- for some reason currently unbeknownst to him- agreed to marry had gotten up onto the bed and was on her hands and knees, bouncing upon the mattress in an attempt to shake him awake. He was already awake. If her true intention was to annoy him or make his head throb any worse, she was succeeding, although far from admirably. "Go away," he whined pitifully.

Bulma giggled. "You sound like a little kid when you whine like that." She bounced on the bed some more.

"Fine. Go away, Woman," he tried again.

"Nope." Bulma flopped down on top of him and trailed a fingertip along his chest. "Sorry, no can do. I let you sleep as long as possible, but it's time to get up."

Vegeta growled beneath his pillow, holding it down at either end as she tried to pry it off of his head. "I don't feel like going."

"Maybe you'll think before you drink 52 beers next time. You are going and you will not sit there and pout the entire time," Bulma informed him.

"It's pointless-"

Bulma yanked the pillow away. "It is not pointless!" she yelled, making him wince. "This lunch is for everyone to get together and finalize our wedding plans, Vegeta! Or maybe you feel the whole wedding is pointless, too. Maybe you're right!"

Before she could get off of the bed, Vegeta grabbed her by the wrist and turned them over in one smooth move, rolling on top of her. "I am a man of my word, Bulma," he told her quietly, ignoring his aching head. "I agreed to marry you, and we will get married on Saturday."

"Why bother?" Bulma pouted. "It's not like it matters to you."

Vegeta sighed. The gods were probably laughing at how soft he'd become. But she was worth it, more than worth it. "Bulma, it does matter. It matters to you, and your happiness matters to me."

Bulma's face fell. "You only agreed to get married to make me happy?"

Vegeta stared down at her intently. "Do you wish to know the true reason I agreed to marry you?" he whispered, cupping her face in his hands.

She nodded. Part of her was afraid to hear it- after all, this was Vegeta and he could be rather heartless at times- but there was a part of her that wanted to know the truth, that needed more than anything to know how he really felt about her.

Yeah, yeah. He knew why he wanted- yes, wanted- to marry her. Her hot body had nothing to do with it.

Well... maybe just a little...

"Because I need you, Bulma, you and only you." Vegeta drew up every ounce of his strength and did something he had never done before. "I admire your strength, your courage, your intelligence," he confessed, watching her face soften with every word. "Your beauty." He kissed her lips gently. "That intoxicating fire that burns within you."

Bulma's lips trembled. "Oh, Vegeta," she whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek. She'd never heard him say something so romantic before.

Vegeta pushed his strength up still another notch. "But, the true reason I agreed?" He wiped her cheek dry with his thumb. "Because... because I love you, Bulma."

It came out as little more than a mumble, but she heard it. They were the words she had only imagined he'd ever say, the words she'd only heard in her dreams. And now, they were a reality. She threw her arms around him. "I love you, Vegeta," she managed, clinging to him tightly.

This would be a good day, after all.

***

Bulma frowned. "Has Wami arrived yet?"

Mrs. Briefs shook her head. "No, I haven't seen her, dear. Maybe she's stuck in traffic."

As if on cue, Bulma's cell phone rang. "Well, what do you know, it's Wami." She answered the phone. "Hey, Wami."

"Hi Bulma. Listen, I got halfway there and turned around," Wami told her. "I'm really sick."

"Honey, you sound terrible," Bulma blurted. "No offense."

"None taken. This cold just knocked me off my feet." She sighed sadly. "I was so looking forward to being your maid of honor, Bulma. I just don't think I can do it. I'm really sorry."

"Oh, Wami, don't be sorry. I'm sorry you're sick," Bulma assured her friend. "You just get better, okay?"

Wami managed a weak chuckle. "Thanks, Bulma. If I was there I'd hug you, but I wouldn't want to give this to you."

Mrs. Briefs eyed her daughter inquisitively as she spoke on the phone with her friend. She frowned when she heard Bulma say 'I'm sorry you're sick'. Now what? She waited patiently until Bulma finished the call. "Is Wami sick, dear?"

Bulma nodded. "She's got a bad cold and sounds absolutely terrible. There's no way she's going to be in any shape to be my maid of honor on Saturday."

Yamcha instantly perked up. "Does this mean I'm off the hook?" he asked hopefully. He hadn't really wanted to be Vegeta's best man and Vegeta certainly hadn't begged for him to be either, but Bulma had wanted it, and what Bulma wanted, she got.

"Not a chance in hell, weakling," Vegeta spoke up tersely. His head was in his hands and he leaned upon his elbows on the table as he endured the last of his hangover. Even though this hangover was bad, a ticked off Bulma was even worse. "If you ruin this for Bulma, I will personally garrote you with your intestines and hang you from-"

"Vegeta," Bulma interrupted, "I really don't think that'll be necessary. Wami told me about an old college buddy of ours who is visiting Western Capital and suggested that I give her a call. I haven't seen her in ages! You'll like her Yami, she's really sweet." Bulma paused midway through dialing. "Wouldn't that have been cute? Wami and Yami..."

Yamcha groaned. "Great." Who else were they trying to fix him up with? Even if he hadn't drooled all over himself over her, at least Wami had been certifiably female. If this was another joke, he didn't think he could take it. His thoughts were interrupted by Bulma's voice.

"Hey, everyone!" Bulma called out. "Wami's sick, but I found someone else to take her spot. It shouldn't be a problem if the dress needs any alterations, should it?" she addressed her seamstress. Bulma had made sure that everyone who was even remotely involved in her dream wedding was present. Everyone.

The woman shook her head. "No, not unless they're a big difference in size."

Vegeta forced himself to sit up straight as the women continued to chatter. What he wouldn't do for a senzu bean. A clink on the table next to him made him open his eyes.

"Thought this might help." Yamcha sat down beside him and took a sip of his own coffee.

Vegeta turned up his nose at Yamcha's offering. "Where's the cream and sugar?" he grumbled.

"Just drink it. I can tell you're almost done with your hangover. This should help," Yamcha advised, nudging the coffee closer.

"What makes you think you can tell anything about me?" Vegeta continued to grumble as he took a gulp of the bitter black liquid.

Yamcha's eyebrow rose. "Didn't Bulma tell you about the time Goku got drunk?"

"No..." A slow smirk spread over Vegeta's face. Goku was a big enough idiot while sober. It would amuse him greatly to hear about what asinine things the lummox did while drunk. "Do tell."

Mrs. Briefs nudged her daughter. "Oh look, honey! They're getting along." She clasped her hands together and smiled as Vegeta laughed at something Yamcha said, not noticing the snide look he shot Goku's way.

"Wow. Now that's a first. Call Guiness," Bulma commented, impressed that the two did seem to be co-existing peacefully in the same hemisphere for once.

***

"Toshie!" Bulma hugged her friend tightly. "Oh! I haven't seen you in ages! How have you been?"

"I'm good," Toshie responded, returning the affection. "You?"

"Wonderful! I'm getting married!" Bulma squealed what Toshie already knew excitedly.

Toshie almost choked when she saw the enormous diamond on her friend's finger. "Oh Bulma, it's gorgeous," she breathed, eyes wide. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks..." Bulma smiled blissfully. "Come meet my fiancé." She grabbed Toshie's hand and led her over to where Vegeta was. "Toshie, this is Vegeta. Vegeta, meet Toshie, a long-time friend of mine."

Vegeta nodded and gave the young lady a less than energetic two-fingered wave.

"Sorry, we had a party last night and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I have a hangover," Vegeta groused. He sighed. The coffee hadn't really helped, nor had all the laughter that Yamcha had subjected him to. "I'm fine."

~You sure are. Yum...~ "It's very nice to meet you, Vegeta," Toshie told him sincerely. "I always knew whoever managed to win Bulma's heart would have to be a very special guy."

"Oh, he's special, all right," Bulma agreed. "In fact-"

Bulma stopped short when a little body bumped against her leg. "Mama, want up!"

"Hey, baby boy," Bulma cooed, scooping up the child. "Toshie, this is Trunks. Can you say hi to Miss Toshie, Trunks?"

The little boy stared at the strange lady talking to his mother shyly, one finger at his mouth as he decided how to respond. "Hi."

A huge smile split across Toshie's face. "You are just adorable," she proclaimed. She held out her hands, asking silently if the boy wanted to come to her.

Trunks looked up at his mother.

"It's okay, Trunksie. Did you want to go see Miss Toshie?" Bulma asked her son.

Again, Trunks contemplated his next plan of action. If Mama thought this lady was nice, she must be. "Okay."

Toshie giggled as the boy was transferred to her arms. "Bulma, he's a beautiful child," she commented. "How old is he?"

"Thank you," Bulma responded proudly. "Trunks is eighteen months, aren't you?"

Trunks scratched at his ear, shrugged, and made an 'I don't know' noise.

Toshie laughed, leaning down a little to take a good look at him. She could easily see both Bulma's and Vegeta's looks on the child's face, no doubt about it. He had purple hair, just like his grandfather- "Oh!" She jumped in surprise as something warm and fuzzy tightened around her wrist. "What the?"

"Oopsie Trunks, you startled Miss Toshie," Bulma said a little nervously, noting her son's tail around her friend's wrist. She hadn't had the opportunity to tell Toshie about Vegeta yet. "Be careful."

"Bulma, is this..." Toshie wasn't quite certain what she was asking.

"Toshie, Trunks has a tail, yes," Bulma confirmed quietly. "He's half Saiyan."

Toshie turned to look at Vegeta. "Saiyan? You mean..."

"No, Vegeta isn't human," Bulma continued quietly. "His race are called Saiyans. They have strength and abilities higher than that of humans."

"Oh." Toshie took this all in stride. "Kind of like that tournament I saw the news report about."

Bulma held in a sigh of relief. "Yes, exactly like that," she agreed. This was going well, thank goodness. "But Saiyans have tails. That's where Trunks' tail came from."

"Well, that's really cool," Toshie decided. "What can you do that humans can't, Vegeta?"

"Plenty of things," Vegeta informed her. Where should he even start?

"Can you fly?" Toshie asked hopefully. "If I could do anything that ordinary humans can't do, it would be flying."

Vegeta nodded. "Sure, why not?" He was starting to feel better. Evidently Yamcha had been right.

"Maybe you could show her a few things later," Bulma decided. "But for now, we'd better get started." She winked at her friend and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey, everyone!" she yelled. "This is Toshie!" she continued after she was sure she'd gotten everyone's attention. "She'll be standing up in Wami's place."

Toshie was quickly mobbed by Bulma's family and friends, each of which was individually introduced to her. It didn't take her long to realize that many of Bulma's friends weren't ordinary humans, either. However, they seemed to be a friendly, down to earth lot- even the old man and the pig, who both seemed a little lecherous- and she found herself settling in quite easily.

"Where's Yamcha?" Bulma asked, scanning the area.

"He kinda took off," Krillin responded sheepishly. "I think he thought this was another transvestite setup."

"Transvestite setup?" Toshie asked incredulously.

Bulma groaned. "Krillin... for Kami's sake, this is my wedding and he's Vegeta's best man. Go find him," she demanded, pointing away from them. "And no more funny business."

Krillin sighed. "Fine, I'm going."

Toshie watched the miniature monk fly off. "Transvestite setup?" she repeated.

"Let's just say that they like to pull practical jokes on each other," Bulma explained, shaking her head in disgust. "Yamcha's been, well, lonely for a while now, and they kind of set him up with someone he thought was a woman. But he wasn't. I mean, she wasn't. Whatever!"

"Oh." Toshie winced. "Harsh."

***

"Hey." Krillin landed beside his friend. "Bulma's been looking for you."

"Yeah, I'll bet she has." Yamcha took a long drink of his beer.

Krillin suppressed a sigh. "Yamcha, I know you'll always care about Bulma. Do this for her, okay? It would seriously hurt her if you let her down now."

Yamcha's shoulders drooped. "I know." He eyed Krillin suspiciously. "You swear you aren't fooling with me this time?"

"Cross my heart." Krillin made the gesture. "Come on, Yamcha. Nobody needs Vegeta hunting you down and doing something deranged with Kami only hopes would be your intestines."

Yamcha paused a moment longer. "You flew here. Did Bulma explain stuff to this Toshie girl?"

Krillin nodded. "Yeah, the coast is clear if you wanna fly."

Yamcha looked over to the portable capsule building where the gathering was taking place. He could hear music and laughter and smell the wonderful luncheon the Briefs had gotten catered. He'd do this for her, for Bulma. "All right. But if you're lying to me, you're toast." He took to the air, Krillin close behind.

"Hey, there you are," Bulma exclaimed as he landed nearby and entered the building. "I've been looking for you so I could introduce you to Toshie."

"So I heard." Yamcha blinked when he saw her. She was... He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Toshie, Yamcha. Yamcha, Toshie." Bulma made her introductions. "Oh, here, I'll take him. Trunksie, come to Mama, baby." Bulma retrieved her son. "Let's go give you to Daddy, so Mama can talk. I'll be right back, guys."

They stood in silence for a moment. "So, uhm, what do you do?" Yamcha asked awkwardly.

"I'm a physical therapist," Toshie responded. "I have a job interview in Western Capital tomorrow. I really hope it works out, because I'd love to move to this area. You?"

Yamcha perked up. "Really? The Titans are actually looking for a physical therapist, too. I play for them."

Toshie blinked at him. "Who?"

Yamcha took his turn blinking at her. "You mean, who are the Titans?" Everyone knew who the Titans were, even people who didn't follow sports. "The Western Capital Titans?"

Toshie looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm not a sports enthusiast. That's baseball, right?"

"Right." Yamcha couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He wasn't sure why, until he realized what it was about her he hadn't been able to place.

She was normal. Refreshingly normal. Despite her ignorance of sports, she obviously wasn't stupid or a brainiac. She wasn't homely or gorgeous. She wasn't fat or thin, tall or short, voluptuous or bony, a snappy dresser or frumpy. She was average in every way. Maybe her ignorance of sports was a good thing. She actually seemed nice, and it wouldn't skew her opinion of him. She'd see him for who he really was, not for what he did. He still wasn't sure why it mattered to him. They'd see each other for a few hours at Bulma's wedding, then probably never again.

"Oh." Toshie smiled. She'd never met a pro athlete before, and he seemed nice. "What position do you play?"

Before he could answer, a loud excited squeal split through the room. A small black cat streaked across the floor, followed by the owner of the excited squeal as he chased the unfortunate creature faster than Toshie had ever seen a toddler move before.

"Trunks, no! Leave Kitty alone!" Bulma wailed, crawling under the dessert table after her son. "Don't eat Kitty!"

"Want to get out of here?" Yamcha asked, noting that his conversational partner's eyes had just grown about twice their normal size.

Toshie let out a little laugh that had more to do with incredulity than humor. Vegeta had entered the fray and was holding up his son by the straps of his overalls, shaking him and yelling 'drop the feline!' as Bulma attempted to pry her father's screeching cat from Trunks' iron grip. "Sure, that sounds like a good idea."

"Hey Bulma, we'll just be outside if you need us," Yamcha called out.

"Uh-huh. Trunks, give Mama the kitty, okay?" Bulma urged her son, not really listening to what was being said to her.

They left the building and shut the door. "It's okay, you can say it. Oh. My. God," Yamcha offered, grinning at the half shocked, half amused look on Toshie's face.

Toshie giggled. "He seemed like such a sweet little boy, too," she commented casually.

"Oh, he is. He's just got way too much energy for his own good," Yamcha countered. "He's a good kid." ~Even with having a crazy father.~

Toshie could sense a hint of sadness to Yamcha's voice. "So, do you know Bulma well or is it Vegeta you know?"

"Bulma. We've been friends for quite a few years. I even lived here for a while, until my baseball career took off." Yamcha shifted a little uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry."

Yamcha looked over at Toshie and immediately understood- she'd put two and two together. "No, don't be. It just wasn't meant to be. We'll always be good friends, but she's happier with Vegeta than she ever was with me."

They stood in silence again. "So, uhm, are they having a rehearsal dinner?" Toshie spoke up, not really knowing what else to say.

"Yes, Friday night," Yamcha told her.

That was two days away. "Well... I don't really have anything to do tomorrow after my interview," Toshie began a little hesitantly. "Could you suggest anything other than a fun-filled day of game shows and sitcom reruns in my hotel room?"

Yamcha couldn't figure the true meaning behind her question. "I could probably come up with some suggestions, sure. What time is your interview?"

"Nine a.m., bright and early," Toshie told him. "After that, nothing."

NormalRefreshingly normal. "I know you're not into sports, but if you want to see the ball park, I have batting practice tomorrow. You could come with, and I could show you a little of the city afterward. If you want," he added hastily, not wanting to sound as if he was presuming that she would want to spend time with him. "Or, you could-"

"That sounds great," Toshie interrupted before the situation could become awkward. "Thanks."

"No problem." Yamcha dug his phone out of his jacket pocket. "What's your number? I'll call your cell so we'll both have each other's number."

Toshie found herself a little surprised as she gave him the number, not figuring that he would have wanted to store it, or that he wouldn't care that she would have his, a pro baseball player's number. "When should I come to the stadium?"

Yamcha waved that off. "Just take a cab to your interview and call me when you're done. I'll pick you up. That way, you won't need to worry about your car," he offered.

"Okay." Toshie smiled. "Thanks. That's really nice of you."

"It's nothing." Yamcha smiled back.

"Hey, you two!" Both of them jumped at the sound of Bulma's voice. "Come on in, the disaster's over for now and Kitty is fine."

"Sure Bulma, we'll be right in." Yamcha shook his head a little to clear it. Toshie had such big, soft, brown eyes, and hadn't realized he'd been staring into them until Bulma had startled them. It was almost as if they'd hypnotized him. "Well, I guess we should."

"I guess so." A faint blush pinked over Toshie's cheeks that had nothing to do with the brisk November weather as they went back inside.