Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ West City Academy ❯ Unwilling Partnership ( Chapter 5 )

A/N: Not sure what to say this time. For the few of you that follow this story, thank you for your patience and I hope it was worth the wait.

OoO

Unwilling Partnership

The study of written works, especially those considered of superior or long lasting artistic merit.

It was fourth period Literature class and Bulma tried to fight the boredom. It was her worst subject and for the life of her she couldn't understand why it was necessary to study. Calculus, physics, and automotive class she absolutely loved and actually looked forward to. Business management and economics was fairly easy to comprehend and knew why it was necessary to learn. But literature seemed useless and she couldn't quite grasp the point. She didn't like to admit it but she was having a hard time with that particular class. Nonetheless she attempted to pay attention, Active listening, she reminded herself, Try to listen actively.

It was easier said than done. Before she knew it, her mind started to wander, her sight leisurely traveling around the room. The seating was arranged in a U-shaped and Bulma considered the purpose of that for a while. Then she observed her classmates, noticing that some had an absent-minded expression and one was fighting sleep. I suppose I could be doing worse.

Her gaze then landed in Vegeta. She watched as he threw little paper balls on a curly-haired boy sitting in front of him. Her brows furrowed in question and concern. She felt bad for the kid who was the unknowing target of paper wads.

Feeling someone watching him, Vegeta looked over and for a moment locked eyes with her. He took a bigger piece of paper, folded it into a small triangle, and flicked it at the mass of curly hair. He glanced back at her and grinned as she disapprovingly glared at him.

It was then that the girl sitting next to him leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Bulma rolled her eyes and looked away.

A few weeks had passed since the agreement had been finalized. Everything had settled down from the erratic days during the car debacle. For the most part, Bulma and Vegeta continued to treat each other the same. There were occasional glares and eye-rolls at one another. Except now Vegeta had taken the habit to shove past her whenever they happened to cross paths. Bulma figured it was bullying method and she found it completely annoying.

“So now that we've reviewed the material,” the Professor said as she pulled out a stack of papers, “…lets go over the class project.” she handed out the assignment.

Great. Just what I need. Bulma thought as she took an assignment guideline from the stack that was being passed around.

The Professor continued, “This project involves pairing up and it will be over the works of a writer that will be chosen at random for everyone. It will also count for thirty percent of your final grade. You are required to analyze the works of your particular writer, compare and contrast it to their own work and the works of their time, and present your research to the class. Both students are required to present their lecture.”

Bulma looked up at the Professor as an overwhelming feeling of dread washed over her. You've got to be kidding me, she thought as she watched her instructor pace back and forth in front of the classroom. Bulma could tell by that pace alone that she was excited about what she had just assigned.

“I want you to pretend that you are the instructor and you are educating your classmates over the material you have researched. Take this opportunity to learn about previous writers and then share your combined work with the class.” She stopped by the podium. “Also, I advise you all to take notes over your classmates' presentations. Their lectures will be on the final exam”

There was an audible groan from the class. Bulma shared the mutual distress over the project.

“The project is not as hard as it sounds.” the Professor attempted to settle, “Remember that this is a group project so the work should be divided evenly between both students.” she reached for a sheet of paper from the podium. “Now, the partners are as follows…” she started listing off the student pairs.

Sighing, Bulma looked down at the guideline paying special attention to the grading rubric as she waited for her and her partner's name to be called out. She briefly wondered what writer she was going to research when she heard her name.

“Bulma Briefs….” it was in alphabetical order and her name was one of the first called out, “…and Vegeta Ouji.”

Her eyes shot up to the Professor. She was unable to hide the look of incredulousness as the Professor continued to read out names. She then looked over at Vegeta. His exasperation was apparent as he sat cross-armed and scowling at their Professor. She can't deny that she didn't feel as upset as he seemed to be. The thought of being around Vegeta, the thought of putting up with him for even a few minutes had the potential to give her a headache. The need to find an alternative, a different partner was imperative and that was exactly what she planned to do.

It would be his luck that he'd get partnered with her. From where he sat, Vegeta took a quick glance at her before looking down at the sheets that were handed out. She seemed just as tickled with the pairing as he was. He didn't bother to look through the assignment guideline. Instead he reached over for a pen from the girl that sat next to him and started to scribble. At first he drew random shapes and words but it evolved into caricatures of a fanged Professor with horns and the Briefs girl as a frog. The brunette by his side giggled as she watched him draw. It made class at bit bearable as time flew by.

The minute class was dismissed Vegeta shot from his seat and to the door. But as he made his way out he noticed that Bulma went straight to the Professor. No doubt to find a way out of working with him. He didn't have a problem with that. If anything he hoped that the Briefs girl would be able to switch with someone else. He would rather deal with anyone but her. At the moment he wanted nothing more than to put class behind him and just go get some lunch.

A moving mountain impersonated, he headed down the busy halls not bothering to veer out of others' way as he pushed passed them. Once outside he saw Nappa and Raditz heading toward the parking lot where students were uncapsuling their vehicles. He was making his way toward them when he heard a roar of an engine not far off. He looked at the direction of the noise in time to see a bluette on black sport-bike making its way to him. She screeched to a halt before him and Vegeta silently grumbled.

“We need to talk.”

He scoffed, “I'm surprised you weren't able to get out of it.”

“At least I tried, which is more than I can say for you.”

“How over-achieving of you.” he dryly replied as he made his way to walk around her.

Seeing this, she quickly dismounted her bike and went to block his way, “Look, I spoke to the Professor and she just won't allow any partner changes. No matter what I said she didn't budge. So it seems like I'm stuck with you for this stupid project. We need to get together to work on this.”

“I think not.” He attempted to step around her.

But she mirrored his movements and stepped in his way, “We're not done here, Ouji.”

“We're done when I say we're done.”

“No, that's not the way it works. We're done once this project is done. And, might I add, it's a huge project. It's going to take some time.”

“I don't care.”

“That figures but, just level with me for a minute. I barely have time to do my half. Everything will work seamlessly if we get started on this as soon as possible. I don't want to leave this for last minute. I know it's a lot for you to handle…”

His eyes narrowed at her.

“…but you have to actually do your part.”

“Oh, I have to? Well that changes everything.” he moved forward, uncaring if shoved passed her.

But Bulma once again stepped in his way and placed her fingers on his chest, affectively stopping him in place “Don't be an ass. This is just as much your grade as it is mine.”

He looked down, surprised that she would have the guts to lay a hand on him, “I don't know how to make it any more clearer.”

She heard what he said but was more interested in his reaction and couldn't help but be a bit amused at the evident look of shock and annoyance that crossed his features. “What, Ouji? Don't like people touching you?” she teased and gave him a shove.

“No.” he took a step closer with the intention of intimidating and making her feel uncomfortable with the proximity. Giving her a hard look, he leaned in and lowered his voice, “I don't imagine anyone likes being touched by someone they don't like. This isn't any different. Touch me again and I'll make you wish you hadn't.” Although she leaned away, she didn't flinch. Her eyes were dead set on his. “Now, get out of my way.”

“Like hell.” she seethed. She couldn't believe the way he was talking to her. It was uncalled for to say the least. “Do you honestly think you can intimidate me the way you intimidate everyone else?”

Vegeta saw the moment when anger flashed across her eyes. There wasn't any apprehension or fear and it only fueled his irritation, “Woman-” he nearly snarled.

“You don't scare me.”

“I'm sure I can change that.”

She was boiling inside, “Fine! You win. Since we clearly can't be around one another…”

“Humph. Clearly.”

“…I'm okay with just doing this project through e-mail. I'll split the work and send it to your school account.”

“I couldn't care less.”

“You better start caring. This counts for thirty percent of both our grades.” she gave him skeptical look, “Do you even check your school e-mail?”

“What do you think?”

“Why am I not surprised.” she deadpanned. “Just give me your cell number.”

“Ha. There's a better chance of hell freezing.”

She frowned at him, “It's not like I'm going to call you up for a booty call. It'll be strictly for class work.”

“I don't care.”

“That's ridiculous. How am I supposed to get a hold of you?”

“What's ridiculous is the notion of you having a direct line of communication with me.” he looked up and saw Nappa and Raditz watching him as they waited by Raditz's truck.

Bulma turned to see what caught his attention and then looked back at him, “Just do the reading, Ouji. If you follow my lead then we won't have to talk to one another.”

“Fine.” he said through gritted teeth. He just wanted her to go away.

“Good.” Bulma used his move and purposely pushed passed him on her way back to the building. She could feel his eyes on her as she did so, “I'll see you around.” she called back.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Once he was able to calm himself he headed for his comrades.

“What was that all about?” Nappa asked as Vegeta reached them.

“Some idiotic class work. I don't want to talk about it.” Vegeta got into the passenger seat and slammed the door closed.

“If she's helping you out then you've got nothing to worry about. That girl is insanely smart.” Raditz commented as he took a seat in the driver's side.

“She handled you real nice with your old man's car, Ouji.” Nappa joked as he got in the back seat.

Raditz laughed, “I woulda never thought of doing what she did.”

“Of course you wouldn't.” Vegeta was irritated enough, “Why are we even talking about that?”

“Cuz it's fuckin' hilarious. You gotta admit that Blue's pretty sharp.”

“No. She's an utter nuisance.”

OoO

A locker door was slammed shut. She slightly winced at the noise. It wasn't her intention to close it that roughly. She stopped what she was doing, took a deep breathe, and then continued to get dressed. But that didn't help her gruff movements.

At her side, Eighteen noticed this, “What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing's wrong with me.” Bulma snapped back.

Eighteen gave her a ponderous look. In the time that she's known Bulma, she had never seen her that… tense.

Noting the silence from her friend, Bulma looked her way and noticed her expression, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be… rude.”

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“Yes.” she answered as she brusquely threw more items into her gym bag.

Eighteen continued to patiently watch her, “You played like shit today. There has to be something bothering you.”

Bulma couldn't argue that. She frequently missed the ball, bumped into her teammates, and on a few occasions couldn't even get the ball over the net when she served. She played like a rookie and that infuriated her all the more. It was the worst practice she had ever experienced. The coach had pulled her aside to check on her and chalked it up to a bad day. She was aware of the looks of concern from her teammates and was thankful that they respected her space. After all, they've all had their bad days as well. But no one but Eighteen ventured to talk to her.

“So you noticed my stellar moves out there, huh?” she dryly asked.

Eighteen calmly brushed her wet hair, “Is that what you call it? Coulda fooled me.”

Although Bulma appreciated her unruffled demeanor, she didn't respond back. She was careful about not taking her anger out on others and she didn't want to say or do anything mean to those she cared about.

“Well, are you going to spill or not?” Eighteen coolly pushed.

She sat on the bench, “It's not important.”

“Have it your way. But if it keeps affecting how you play, I'll just punch it outta ya.”

She regarded the icy blonde carefully. Deep down inside Bulma knew that she was joking but she had a feeling that she was partially serious as well, “And here I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

“Friends don't punch friends, Eighteen.”

She shrugged, “Call it tough love. So, are you done dodging the subject?”

Bulma heaved a sigh in defeat, “I have this monstrous project to work on. It wouldn't be so bad if partners weren't assigned but they were. I've already started and I even split the work for us but I haven't seen any progress on his part. I don't know if he's started and it's already been more than two weeks.”

“Is that it? That's easy. Just go up and talk to him about it.”

Bulma couldn't contain her grimace, “I really don't want to. Besides, talking to him is so much easier said than done.”

“Who's your partner?”

“Vegeta.”

She tightened her lips in an attempt to hold back a laugh “Vegeta Ouji?”

Bulma gave her a hard look, “Is there any other at WCA?”

Eighteen chuckled, completely amused at her friends misfortune, “Well at least now I get why you've been so cranky.”

“I'm glad one of us finds this funny.”

“Did you guys say Vegeta?” someone behind them asked. Both Bulma and Eighteen turned and were met with a blue-eyed, dark-haired girl: their teammate Miguel. “You're not seeing him are you?”

“Seeing him as in dating him?” Bulma asked, “Pft. Over my dead body.”

With her hand over her chest Miguel breathe a sigh in relief, “Oh, good.”

“Why do you ask?

“Well, I just saw him drive off with some girl not so long ago.”

Instinctively it would not cause Bulma any concern. Vegeta is nothing to her. Just a mean boy she's known since childhood. She would have merely shrugged and gone about her day. But her grades, her academics are important to her. She wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have reacted but instead she was irked, a flame of fury igniting deep inside. Her eyes narrowed, “What?” she sharply questioned in disbelief.

Miguel seemed taken back and she looked to Eighteen who only shrugged in response. She looked back at Bulma who seemed about to blow up at any second. “I- It's just what I saw.” came her soft reply.

Her jaw tightened, her face turning shade upon shade of red, “Son of a... that lazy, fuckin… argh!!” Bulma all the more furiously packed her things. “I can't believe that asshole!” she swung her bag over her shoulder and headed toward the exit. “Who the hell does he think he is?!” she stormed out of the ladies locker room with little care of who was present or what stood in her way.

Miguel looked over at Eighteen once more, “I thought she said they weren't dating.”

Eighteen was just as bewildered as her team mate. “They're not. Bulma can't stand Vegeta.”

“Then how do you explain that? Where is she going?”

“I have no idea.”

Bulma charged through the halls of WCA. Once outside, she didn't waste time and uncapsuled her bike. She quickly hopped on and drove off. The motor roared as she changed gears and turned the throttle. She sped through the street caring little of the speed limit. I asked him nicely to cooperate. I even made it easy for him. I gave him more than enough time and space. He didn't even bother to reply to the emails I sent, she internally fumed, Like hell am I going to do this whole thing on my own. I'm not about to do all the work while he's messing around with some girl.

It was all she thought about on the frenzied ride to his house. It just felt… unfair. She had been working so hard to not fall behind. She dedicated time and effort on the project and it was infuriating that he wasn't even doing the bare minimum. Instead he was off wasting time. Oh she'll show him.

She pulled up to the front gate of the Ouji estate. As she looked up at the black iron gates she debated jumping over. She was determined enough to walk around the gate as well, to go from brick pillar to brick pillar to find the best way in. Her sight went to the intercom and decided to try that method first. Taking in a breath to calm her nerves, she pressed the button. Her fingers tapped on her motorcycle handlebar as she waited. But she didn't have to wait long.

“Hello?” the young, slightly raspy voice said.

She was surprised, not expecting a child to answer, “Uh, hi…” Bulma was unsure of what to say to a kid. “Can I come in?”

“Maybe. Um, can you state your business here?”

Even with her vexed disposition toward Vegeta she couldn't help but smile at the way the boy sounded. She put it together, getting a feeling of who it could be, “Tarble, is that you?”

There was silence for a moment before he answered, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. I'm Bulma Briefs. A good friend of the family.” Good friends of the family minus one Ouji Jr. “I need to talk to your brother. Do you mind letting me in?”

“Good evening, Miss. How can I help you?” came the voice of an older gentleman.

Bulma figured it was probably the butler and she tried to contain a huff of exasperation. “I'm Bulma Briefs and here to… meet Vegeta over a class project.” It wasn't entirely untrue.

“Mr. Ouji did not inform me over such matters nor are you on the-”

“What are you doing, Paragus?” Tarble interrupted his voice low yet reprimanding “Let the pretty girl in.” Then there was silence.

She didn't move. She simply waited and waited, certain that Tarble was bickering with Paragus. If Tarble's comment hinted at anything, perhaps he would convince Paragus to let her in. Bulma crossed her fingers and hoped that Paragus wouldn't reason with the youngest Ouji. After all she wouldn't consider her sudden appearance an intrusion. If Vegeta could barge in to her home, her garage, while she was working on his father's car no less, then she very well had the same right to barge into his. So she took the time to calm herself, Be cool. Just be cool and don't say anything stupid. The last thing she needed was to say the wrong thing and piss of the butler, who was otherwise the gatekeeper.

Before long there was large clinking sound and the gates opened. She didn't think twice and drove in following the paved driveway and passing the rich greenery of the front lawn. She circled around the large fountain that stood before the front entrance. She was unable to help her wandering eye from looking over the landscape. It was proud and elegant place. Where her home was the epitome of technological advances, the Ouji estate embodied enduring tradition. Bulma hadn't visited in a long time, not since the late Mrs. Ouji passed away. She didn't think she would ever step foot there again, but there she stood.

She dismounted her bike and walked up the few steps to the front door. Taking in a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself for whatever could occur. As she reached to push the doorbell, the door opened before she was able to do so. There stood a man dressed in a dark suit. He didn't look like what she expected. With dark hair, olive skin, thick mustache, and a deep scar over where an eye should be, the man didn't look like a typical snooty butler. This man looked like a soldier. He probably was at some point of his life. From behind him, Bulma could make out a small figure with flame like hair peeking over at her.

“Miss. Breifs?”

She straightened her back, refusing to let her resolve falter, “Yes. I'm here to see Vegeta.”

Skepticism shadowed his eye, “With all due respect, Miss, but I'm finding your visit… unanticipated.”

Bulma was fully aware of the reason behind his disbelief. After all, Vegeta was probably preoccupied and her presence simply didn't make sense, “Really? How so?” she had to play it off.

“Mr. Ouji did not inform me of your stopping by.”

“Well it was kind of last minute. I told him before class was over that was coming over. It probably just slipped his mind.” she glanced over at Tarble, smiled at him and waved. She looked back at Paragus, meeting his hard regard, “I can see that you're not comfortable with me being here. Tarble can lead me to him so I can drop off the homework and be on my way.”

“Miss. Brei-”

“I can do that!” Tarble cut off as he passed by Paragus. “I'll take you to him. He's just in his room.” he held his hand out for Bulma to take.

She looked up at Paragus and shrugged before taking Tarble's hand. He eagerly pulled her inside.

The fresh, cool blast of the air conditioned home was a welcomed sensation. Tarble guided up the front marble stairs, his hold surprisingly strong.

“You don't have to follow, Paragus.” Tarble called back once they reached the top.

Bulma looked down to see Paragus' watchful eye on her, “Don't worry, sir. I won't be up here for long.” she assured him.

Once they reached a hall and were out of sight out, Tarble slowed his pace and walked next to her as opposed to pulling her along. He shyly looked up at her without uttering a word.

She noticed, “Thank you, Tarble.”

He slightly reddened and let go of her hand, “It's no big deal.” out of the corned of his eye he gave her seemingly discreet once-over, “You go to West City Academy?”

“I do.” she looked down at her WCA gear, “Just got out of volley practice, actually.”

“Volley girl? That's like him. So, are you, like, with my brother?”

“With him?” she had to hold back a snide retort, “Oh no. I just have a couple classes with him.”

“Uh huh.” he then grinned, “So is Vegeta in trouble?”

“What would make you think he's in trouble?”

“Oh nothing.”

Bulma gave him a knowing look. From what little she gathered the kid was shaping up to be rather clever. She had a feeling that Tarble knew exactly what Vegeta was occupied with. Bringing a girl to the room of a brother who was already busy with a different girl was defiantly not good idea. Tarble knew the mess he was bringing Vegeta. Bulma decided that she quite liked Vegeta's younger brother.

They passed a number of identical doors. As they walked further down the hall, Bulma started to make out a sound. Music. The hard, loud rhythm of the rock song became clearer the closer they came. They finally reached the door to his room where the beat, the vibrations of the music could be felt.

She walked up and knocked on the door, “Vegeta, come out. We need to talk.”

There was no response. He either didn't hear her or he was ignoring her. Either way she didn't have time to wait around for him to decide to answer the door. Preparing herself for what she was possibly about to see, she reached to turn the doorknob only to discover it was locked, “Damn it.”

Bulma took a quick glance back at Tarble. He stood a bit away, out of the line of fire. Smart kid. She did not want to lose her cool in front of him, at least not before she had to. She knocked harder, putting more force behind her fist, “Hey, I know you're in there! It's been over two weeks, Vegeta!”

“Go away!” came the response of the girl.

She couldn't contain her glower. At least she was turned away from Tarble, her sight immersed with the wooden door. She took in a deep breath and turned to Tarble, “She speaks. Who woulda thought?”

He laughed at her comment. His seemed to relax, the tenseness in his shoulders disappeared as he leaned on a wall.

“So, listen, you don't mind if I… say some possibly awful things to your brother, do you?”

He tilted his head in thought, “Hmmm, I don't think so.”

She smiled, “Great.” but her smile quickly disappeared as she banged on the door, “Hey, open the fuckin' door! Do you honestly think you can avoid me for much longer?! Open the door and face me, you coward!” She made sure to make more noise. She banged and even kicked on the door, trying to surpass the loudness of the music.

But they didn't hear anything from him. Not a single peep. After a while of her clamor there was finally a response; the music was turned up.

Bulma mouth fell open for brief moment before she could compose herself, “Oh, no he didn't. That fuckin', moronic, ass-wipe!” She banged on the door again, “Hey! Do you really think that's going to work!? Open this door right now or you better believe I'll fuckin' open it myself!”

Nothing but the sound of rock music.

“Fine! Have it your way!” she took a step back and looked at the door. “Tarble,” she looked over at him. He had been mostly silent but there was a curiosity flickering in his gaze, “You don't happen to have the key, do you?”

“Nope.”

Her eyes looked at the hinges with determined interest, “I'm going to need a drill.”

His eyes widened, “Are you really going to…”

“Yup. Find one for me?”

But he was hesitant, “I don't-”

“Please. I'll make sure you won't get blamed for this. This will all fall on me.”

His lips tightened, still seeming unsure, “O…kay. I think I know where I saw one of those.” he walked down the hall, going back the way they came.

At first Bulma just stared at the door, her arms crossed as her foot tapped on the floor. But she couldn't stand that still for any longer. She paced back and forth as she waited for Tarble. She didn't know if he was going to be able to find the tool she needed so her mind ran through other options. She was a problem solver and she knew she could find another way if she simply put more thought to it. Surely Vegeta's room had a window. If she could just find exactly which window was his from the outside…

She shook her head and sighed, Don't be ridiculous. The thought that she might be going too far occurred to her. Maybe she should just go home, get some rest, and try to catch Vegeta at school the next day.

“Found it.” Tarble ran down the hall toward her and in his hand was the drill.

She smile at him, Well I'm too far in. I can't go back now.

He handed her the tool and she gladly took it, “This is great. Thank you.”

“Do you know how to use that?”

A snicker escaped her lips, “Do I know how to use this?” she checked that is was on reverse and pressed trigger switch, the drilling sound fueled her anticipation. “Here goes nothing.”

Tarble nodded and stepped back.

Bulma went to work. She quickly unscrewed the first hinge, making sure to carefully place the screws to a side. Now she could truly appreciate the music Vegeta had on. It went perfect with what she was doing, taking down the barrier that protected him, finding the way to break down the door.

She was on the bottom hinge, working on the second screw when the door suddenly swung open. Looking up she was met with a very agitated, quite shirtless Vegeta.

He breathed out, his nostrils flared making him appear like an angry bull, “What the hell do you think you're doing!?”

Unaffected by his enraged demeanor, she dropped the drill and stood up. She didn't bother responding and instead pushed passed him and entered his room. She could feel the heat of his glare on her but she didn't care. On his rumpled bed sat the pink haired girl from her first class. Her uniform was just as disheveled as the sheets. Her hands were busy buttoning her shirt. She looked up and couldn't hide her shock at the sight of Bulma. She evidently didn't expect her to be the person making all the noise from the other side of the door.

Bulma quickly located the stereo and turned off the music. She turned to face Vegeta who was still at the door, his eye slightly twitching.

“What are-”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” she cut in, “I didn't realize you were busy.”

He practically growled, “There better be an explanation f-”

“Where are your books?” she cut him off again. She had been looking around his room, trying to spot his bag-pack, he textbooks, papers, anything concerning school, “Where's your part of the work?”

His eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“We had an agreement, you know. We obviously don't get along so we decided on a way to not see each other. Well, now look at where we are,” she gestured to her surroundings. “And you know what makes things worse? I've waited and waited for any form of communication from you, any sign showing how far along you are in this project. I've been patient and I've given you the benefit of the doubt. But instead, here you are wasting your time. And now mine.” she looked over at the girl, “No offense. I'm sure you're a lovely person.”

The sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by the upper classman. She shot Bulma a look as she ran her fingers through her messy hair.

Bulma's focus went back to Vegeta, “So, where is it?”

“What makes you think you can demand anything from me?”

She crossed her arms, “Well when asking nicely doesn't work, there is only so much I can do.”

“You've truly got some balls on you. Although it seems it doesn't take much for someone to trespass,” his sharp gaze snapped to Tarble, “does it, boy?”

Tarble shrunk away, hiding behind the door frame.

“Leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this. If there's anyone you should be piss at, it's me.”

“As is should be.” he walked toward her, his body tense, “There is no justification for your presence here. There is no reason for you to barge in my house, my room-”

“Oh no. Do you really think you can use that argument? Especially after all the times that you barged into my house?! You remember that, right?”

“You can't compare that to this!”

“Of course I can!”

He stood mere inches away from her, the dark intensity of his eyes entirely focused on her, “You're treading on thin ice, woman.”

“I'm shaking where I stand. Now, I'll ask again…” her eyes were locked on his, “…where is your work?”

“You know damn well that I haven't so much as opened the book.”

Yes, she had the suspicion. But that didn't mean that his admission made her feel any better, gave her any sense of relief, “Damn it, Ouji! What the hell is your problem?!”

“Evidentially it's you.”

“Argh, you're such an insufferable asshole!”

“And you're an unbearable, intrusive wench!”

She disapprovingly shook her head at him, “You better prepare yourself. Find those textbooks cuz, guess what? We're playing catch-up today.”

“Ha! You're delusional. There's absolutely no way I'm about to do anything you say.”

“Is there?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Bulma broke eye contact with him to take a quick glance over at the girl who was now patiently standing at the end of the bed, “For your own good, I suggest you have your girlfriend leave.”

“Honey, if Vegeta wanted me to leave I'm sure he would of told me himself.” the girl said.

Her eyebrow arched, “Oh I'm sure he will. Isn't that right?”

“Is it? Do enlighten me.”

Bulma came closer and lowered her voice to a whisper, “If you don't cooperate, I'll tell your father what you've been up to while he was away.”

There was a moment of surprise and panic than flashed in his eyes. But as fast as it appeared, it was replaced with hard suspicion. He lowered his voice just as she had, “You wouldn't. The contract would be breached. You would lose any possible future collaboration between the companies. You have more to lose.” he reasoned.

“Do I? Think about what I would lose in comparison to you.”

“You're bluffing.”

“I have your father's number. Do you really want to try me?”

“Nice try. You already fixed it, remember? If anything, he'd applaud the fact that I got Dr. Briefs' brat to work on it.”

“I don't think he would be if he knew all the details.”

Vegeta immediately caught on. With a forceful huff of exasperation, he turned to the girl, “You need to leave.”

Her mouth fell open, clearly caught off guard, “You've got to be kidding me.” her eyes shot over to Bulma and her icy regard inspected her form. Her expression showed just how unimpressed she was. She then looked back at him, “I don't know what this bitch has on you but whatever it is, fix it, kill it, do something about it. The sooner the better, Veg.” she said as made her way out, “Call me when this is all over.” she added over her shoulder and blew him a kiss goodbye.

Once she left, Vegeta turned his attention back at her again, “Are you satisfied?”

She rolled her eyes, “Please, as if you care if she stayed or not.”

“Humph.”

“Well, this seems settled. Put on a shirt, get your books, and meet me in your kitchen.” she headed toward the door.

“Ha. That's rich.”

Her hand dug inside the pocket of her blazer. She turned around but continued to walk backwards, “You know what I should do while I wait downstairs for you? Assign a speed dial for your dear ol' dad.”

His jaw visibly clenched.

“Can you imagine all the things we could talk about? Drunk driving, car design, contractual obligations…”

“Yeah, I get it.” he bit out.

She smiled, “I'm glad you do. See, you downstairs.”

He watched as she turned and left his room. Not far behind Tarble followed after her.

OoO

A/N: Just some silly bit of information: I do believe that Miguel is the name of Mr. Satan's wife. So there you have it, Bulma and Eighteen's teammate is Videl's mom. It's a small world after all. Anyways, please leave a review to let me know what you think. As always, any comment or critique is appreciated.