Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What About Pride? ❯ Replacement Date ( Chapter 2 )

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It had been a while since Bulma had found something to pester Vegeta about to the point of the two of them sleeping in separate bedrooms. She didn’t know whether to be upset about the past night’s events, or a little bit happy that they both still had the fiery passion about things that had kept their relationship entertaining for so long. Right now, though, she would admit that she was getting a bit tired of it all, and wished there was a way of putting out her mate’s fire…just for one night.

Bulma was brought out of her thoughts by motion on the stairwell. Vegeta was making his way down to the kitchen for his usual small (Saiyan-small, not human-small, mind you) morning meal before training. The only way she had grown accustomed to noticing his whereabouts was, in fact, by his motion and not by his sound. If she was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of his approach, which was most times if he wasn’t trying to give her a jolt, then she would know where he was. If not, she certainly wouldn’t hear his stealthy advances until it was too late, and he was upon her. She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit it was one of his more attractive qualities.

But this morning, he was going for anything but attractive. He stalked down the stairs with his usual prior-to-nine-A.M. grimace and made his way straight to the refrigerator. She noticed, though, that he didn’t seem to be harboring any more irritation about the previous night’s incident. No, he seemed to be at his normal level of indifference. It wasn’t a good mood, but it would have to do. Besides, she had also noticed that he had slept in the bedroom just across the hall from hers, and not in one that was across the compound. Perhaps he wasn’t as peeved by the whole thing as he had seemed.

“Good morning, handsome,” she tested.

There was a pause. “I’m still not going.”

“You know, I wasn’t even going to bring that up again,” she pouted, folding her arms.

Taking a swig of orange juice, he slipped her a sardonic grin. “No, of course you weren’t.”

“You know, Vegeta-” she stopped herself, mid-rant. No, he wasn’t going to win this time. Her voice would just get all shrill and he would stand there with his smug little smirk and wait for her to become unraveled. But not this time. “Fine,” she continued once she had regained her bearings. “You know what? Just forget it all. Forget I even asked you about this stupid thing in the first place. I’m sorry it ever came up. I should have known better than to have ever asked you to do something so silly.”

His smirk quickly faded following her words. This obviously wasn’t the response for which he had been looking. She stood up from her chair, flipping her magazine shut and rolling it up to take with her. As she passed him, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Have a good day of training, hun.”

A moment passed before Vegeta had composed himself enough to grunt back in response. What had just happened?

Meanwhile, Bulma was making her way into the main lobby of the compound, ready to accomplish a new set of tasks for the day. It was Saturday, so she really didn’t have anything that was necessary to complete, but she had a few projects she had been tinkering with lately, and she had decided this would be a good day to take her mind off of things.

As she picked up her mail and began to flip through it coolly, wondering just what sort of plan she would concoct to finally get Vegeta to take her, she glanced up for a moment only to lay eyes upon an old…well, friend might not be exactly the right word. Okay, fine, friend.

Hercule Satan grinned back at her. “Uh, hey there Bulma. How’re you doin’?”

She placed the envelopes back on the counter and gave him a genuine smile along with a hug. “Well, hi there! I had been wondering when I would see you again! How have you been lately?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” he shuffled his feet a little as he spoke.

Just then, it occurred to her that he was holding a small, gift-wrapped box. “Um, if I may ask,” she began as politely as possible. “What brings you over to visit?”

He gave her a look just short of shock, then hurriedly tried to gather up an answer. “Uh, well, you know…” He looked around behind her. “Is this the wrong day for the party?”

In an instant, weeks of time came rushing up to culminate in one shocking realization: Today was Trunks’ birthday party, and she had entirely forgotten. It wasn’t that she had forgotten her son’s actual birthday. It was that Trunks was being taken on a safari by his grandparents for his real one, so they were having the celebration a few weeks early. And a few weeks early was…today.

Her eyes snapped back from their previously widened positions and she slapped on a hostess’ smile. “Oh, no, of course not.” She reached out to take the box. “Here, let me take this from you. Why don’t you just head right down to the greenhouse. We’ll have the barbeque set up in just a little while.”

Beaming at him as he strolled a bit confusedly down the hall, she turned to run back up to get party-ready just as he called after her. “Oh, by the way, Buu will be here in just a minute. He’s back at the car getting out his present!”

She pivoted quickly and plastered the smile back on. “Oooh-kay!” she chirped off-handedly before dashing back up the stairs. What could she wear? Had she remembered to send invitations to everyone, at least? Oh, thank God she had staff to prepare her parties for her, or this day would have been a total disaster.

So what did she have left to do? It seemed that everyone else already knew about the party, so she wouldn’t have to prepare her parents, or anyone else. She just had to give her clothes and makeup an upgrade and then she could start making sure that Trunks was all ready to go and that Vegeta was…

Vegeta. Did he even remember dates like these when she told him months in advance? She would just have to hope for the best. He usually didn’t do too much socializing at these sort of things, but this one was at their home, and he hadn’t seen everyone in a while…he would probably make an appearance at the very least. If he remembered.

She ascended the stairs to the master bedroom at record speed and within a few minutes she found herself sprinting back down them, hair pinned and dress donned. She probably should have been at the front door, ready to greet her guests as they arrived, but hopefully Trunks had taken care of that…wherever the boy was now…and she would just have to make for the garden since most of them would have assembled there by now. As she approached the massive greenhouse she caught the scent of charcoal smoke just outside and thanked her lucky stars she had had the forethought to put together a party staff weeks in advance.

Upon entering the garden area, she was immediately greeted by a warm hug from Chi Chi, who always knew on-sight when someone needed soothing for their frazzled nerves. “How’s it going, hun?” She gave Bulma a warm-hearted smile.

She took a calming breath, finally coming to terms with the fact that the party most likely wouldn’t crash and burn just because she didn’t have her act together. “Oh, just fine,” she finally answered. Suddenly, she realized how long it had been since she had seen her good friend and decided that another hug would be in order. “So how have things been going for you?”

Chi Chi tossed a look toward her husband, who was already devouring the hors d'oeuvres like a starving man. “Oh, same as always,” she answered with a motherly roll of her eyes.

The party went on without a hitch from then on. Old friends caught up and stories from old times were brought up for a hundredth retelling. Vegeta even made an appearance, which delighted the pre-teen Trunks almost as much as it did Goku. There were presents, dancing, and of course, a ridiculous amount of food. A few of Trunks’ school friends had even arrived, but of course he and Goten paid them no mind and snuck off on their own adventures as if they didn’t see each other every day.

Toward the end of the evening, Bulma relaxed and put her feet up as she pondered her next move with her prince. She had spent all day catering to her guests, and now as she looked on they seemed to be quite content, so she had a moment to herself to think. Vegeta had long since retired to his own affairs, ducking out of the party at a time which no one could pin point exactly. Oh well. Bulma thought he actually deserved quite a bit of credit for lasting as long as he had in a gathering of youngsters such as the day had been.

So what to do to convince him to make the sacrifice for her? She wasn’t usually one to give up on something she wanted, but after the hissy fit he had thrown…maybe it was time to throw in the towel. She sipped on her drink as she thought, and her gaze drifted thoughtfully over the party. Just then, her eyes fell on what she perceived to be the answer. Perhaps she didn’t need Vegeta. All she really needed was an impressive date. So what about Mr. Satan?

Granted, they had never been on the best of terms. But he was a friend of the family, after all. And he was certainly impressive. If she showed up to her reunion on the arm of the most well-known man on the face of the Earth…well, that would be the end of any mocking to her name. Sure, he wasn’t the most debonair man of whom she could think, but it seemed to her that she hadn’t much choice anymore, and he was definitely a better option than most.

Well, that settled it. She stood up to make her way over to the chatter box. “So then, I whooped the sad little poser until he just couldn’t take it no more!” The group around him chuckled lightly at Hercule’s story. What he didn’t know was that most of them were laughing at him, rather than with him. Of course, as long as it was attention, even if he did find out he most likely wouldn’t care.

“Ahem,” Bulma cleared her throat politely, interrupting his next story to the relief of the small crowd. She pulled him aside. “Hi. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to do me a favor.”

Mr. Satan blushed slightly at her close proximity before coughing slightly and answering. “Well, sure, uh, Bulma. Yeah, anything for you. Whaddaya need? Is it an autograph? Who do I make it out to?” he asked helpfully.

She smiled. “No, it’s not that. I was just wondering if there was any possibility if you could go as my, well, date to a special event. You’d be doing a friend a favor.”

Suddenly Mr. Satan’s mood wasn’t so friendly. He may have been a little cocky, but he wasn’t no danged fool. Taking Bulma anywhere that could even remotely be categorized as a date would be just like asking Vegeta to come and pound him into the next dimension. No thanks.

He smiled up at her, giving a nervous chuckle. “Well, uh, ya see…”

She waited expectantly.

He blew out a breath, looking around for an out. And right behind him, he spotted it. “Well, you know, I’m not so good at the classy, date-type stuff,” as he continued, he turned around to pull Yamcha from his current conversation and into theirs, surprising Bulma entirely. “But, uh, my pal Yamcha here is. And I would be remiss if I was to, uh, take you myself when I’m sure that he would be a much better date for you, Miss Bulma.”

She looked back and forth between the sweaty man in front of her and the confused man he was holding.

“So whaddaya say, Yamcha? Will you take Bulma on her date?” Mr. Satan looked on, pleading with Yamcha silently as he did so.

“Um, did I miss something here?” A very bewildered Yamcha asked.

Bulma looked around for Vegeta, who was no where to be found, and made up her mind. Oh to Hell with it. “Yamcha, I need a date for my high school reunion this upcoming Friday. Vegeta won’t go because he’s…busy. So what do you say?”

Between Bulma’s expectant gaze, Mr. Satan’s puppy dog stare, and now Puar’s angry “don’t-you-screw-this-one-up” glare added into the mix, poor Yamcha didn’t stand much of a chance. “Well,” he started carefully. “I suppose it’s just helping out a friend. Sure, why not?”

Bulma squealed out her excitement as she hugged him. Finally, her worries were over. Yamcha was definitely a presentable date, and this way she would be going with an old friend, so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness at all. Right?

Meanwhile, Vegeta stood in the kitchen munching on a sandwich left-over from one of the party trays. He was reading a particularly uninteresting article in the magazine laying next to Bulma’s purse on the counter. Suddenly, as he went to wipe some of the unsightly crumbs from his face, he accidentally bumped the purse, which went spilling over the edge and onto the floor.

“Blast it,” he mumbled to himself as he bent down to scoop up the contents and replace them before Bulma came up from the party. He set his sandwich down and bent to one knee as he scraped all the loose items together. There was so much useless junk. An empty lipstick container; A roll of mints with just one left; A small collection of bobby pins; A handful of tampons…whatever those blasted things were.

Yes, that’s right. As wise as Vegeta had become about most strange Earth items, the mystery of the tampon still eluded him. The extent of his knowledge on the subject had come from, of all people, Kakarot. One day while they had been sparring, the subject had come up one way or another, and all that Vegeta remembered was Kakarot’s arms flailing about wildly as his face contorted into a look he had never seen him wear before, and he was profusely instructed to never, ever, ask his wife about the matter.

After that day, the prince had never once brought it up again. If something had Kakarot that worked up, it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

As he placed the last of the items back into the purse, Vegeta came across an invitation. Upon closer inspection, he found it to be the slip of paper which had caused all the trouble between himself and Bulma. It was an invitation to her high school reunion. Out of curiosity, he opened it up and found the inside to be covered in pictures of Bulma’s graduating class covered in scrawling notations. Under one picture it read, “Divorced. Two children.” Another read, “Remember to ask about Knee Surgery.” Still another read, “Got a new job.”

One addition, however, caught his attention over all the rest. Scribbled over one of the young girls’ faces was a moustache and goatee, along with devil horns. This brought a small smile to his face. Sometimes the woman could be so childish. Then he found himself scanning back over the previous notations. She had kept tabs on so many people, just so that she could seem up-to-date and personable. It really must mean a lot to her what these people thought of her.

As he set the purse back up onto the counter, Vegeta snatched up his sandwich and took a bite. Perhaps he had been a bit harsh in his immediate rejection. The woman had made sacrifices for him in the past. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, it was just one night, and it did seem to mean a lot to her.

Vegeta growled to himself. He must be getting soft. He was actually willing to take her on her stupid date.