Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What About Pride? ❯ No Objections Here ( Chapter 3 )

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Vegeta wiped his mouth of any remaining evidence of his bedtime snack as he stalked down the hallway. If he was going to do this he wanted to get it over with, and quick. Using thoughts of Bulma’s happy face as his only incentive, he made his way back toward the sounds of the party to find his woman. Each time Vegeta began to talk himself out of the idea, he thought of the nights he would be spending sleeping in separate rooms against his will, and the notion spurned him on at a quicker pace than before.

Upon reaching the extensive greenhouse area he surveyed the party from one of the small, terrace-like additions to the room and watched for a flash of turquoise. After a few minutes without any luck, he noticed his son’s power signature moving toward him at an impressive rate. Of course, the boy must have been in the middle of some sort of horseplay with Son Goten, but this was of no consequence to his father, who immediately grabbed hold of Trunks’ shirt as he flew by. His playmate carried on for a few seconds before realizing his absence, but by that time Trunks had already begun to fuss in his father’s grasp, struggling against his grip for release. “Hey! Dad, come on…it’s my birthday!”

Vegeta lowered him to the ground, but didn’t release his shirt. Rolling his eyes, he replied. “Not yet, it isn’t.”

Trunks crossed his arms in front of himself, silently mimicking his father’s prevalent pose. Vegeta ignored his attitude, making an exception for the special occasion and returned to his real reason for plucking him from play. “Where is your mother?”

Trunks screwed his face up in thought, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling as he recalled. “Last time I saw her, she was talking to Mr. Satan, I think.”

“Satan?” Vegeta smirked at first, then furrowed his brows. “Why would she be talking to that moron?”

Trunks shrugged his shoulders dismissively. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear what they were saying. I just saw them.” He shifted his weight. “Dad, can I go play with Goten now?”

The question reminded Vegeta of his grip on the neckline of his son’s shirt. He let the fabric go, watching as Trunks took off again. His thoughts almost immediately returned to Bulma, but not before he turned back toward his young child. “Trunks,” he called after him, stopping the boy mid-flight for the second time.

“Yeah, Dad?” he returned to his post in front of his father.

Vegeta dropped his gaze downward and did his best to stir up a smile. He rested one hand on Trunks’ shoulder, and gave his hair a tousle. Then his face became more stern and princely again. “Son.”

Trunks did his best to puff out his chest and draw his shoulders back for his father’s inspection. He waited until his father’s stare softened, and after a few seconds, he relaxed his posture once more and grinned up at him. He took off again without another word, as the sentiment had been passed without need.

Vegeta then began again to comb the area of the party, but this time for a fading, black afro. While he did so, he overheard the boys’ conversation as they left.

“What was that, Trunks?” Goten blurted out immediately, his voice tinged with wonder.

“That’s how my Dad says ‘happy birthday’,” Trunks answered nonchalantly.

Goten was silent for a moment. “I don’t get it.”

“You wouldn’t. It’s a Saiyan thing,” the other boy addressed him matter-of-factly.

“Hey, I’m a Saiyan, too!” Goten protested.

Trunks laughed. “Barely. You wouldn’t understand. My dad’s a real live prince. Yours is just a third-class weakling.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but smirk at his son’s perfect reiteration of his own words.

“It doesn’t matter if my dad is a third…whatever,” Goten replied, flustered. “Mine is stronger than yours!”

“Is not!”

“Is so!”

The conversation faded as they made their way outside, more slowly this time as they embraced each other in a half-hug of playful wrestling. Vegeta turned all his focus toward the party once more, and finally caught sight of the man for whom he had been searching. He didn’t see Bulma there, but she must be somewhere close, and so he began to make his way toward Hercule as a starting base.

Vegeta couldn’t think of a single reason for Mr. Satan to speak to her much past a friendly greeting. They had nothing in common. Perhaps the man was interested in something concerning her company’s affairs . Either way, he was certain that Bulma wouldn’t return the interest in talking to the man. After all, she had expressed her disgust for his behavior many a time, and even though the whole group seemed to have accepted the fact that he was a changed man (for the most part, anyway) who was more humble when off-stage than he ever had been before, Bulma still made it obvious that she didn’t get any enjoyment from his presence.

After debating the issue with himself for a moment, Vegeta finally decided that the man must have had some reason to talk with her, most likely backing her into an awkward position before beginning their conversation. Perfect. Not only would he be finding Bulma to satisfy her most prominent request over the past few days, but he would also be stepping in to save her from unpleasant company. Yes, tonight would be a very rewarding night in the bedroom of the Saiyan No Ouji.

If only he could find that foolish woman. It was just then that he came upon a very relieved-looking Hercule, only to find him standing alone, sipping on some punch. Onyx orbs searched the area surrounding, irritated now. Ah, there she was. At last, he had located her on the other side of the large room. She was giggling loudly, and chattering in a very excited tone to someone he couldn’t quite see. The crowd blocked her mystery companion but from her bright eyes, animated gestures, and girlish giggling , Vegeta supposed it was Chi Chi.

He pushed past a few of the parents he didn’t recognize, still making an effort to avoid one that he did, not being in the mood to be bothered by Kakarot, he reached the pair, only to discover that his mate was currently sharing her excited disposition with Yamcha.

The prince was not at all bothered by his discovery. After all, the two had been close friends for many years and now and again they spent time together at parties and such. And when it came to Yamcha on anything more than a friendship level, well, he wasn’t much in the way of competition for the Prince of All Saiyans. He was, however, surprised when he watched Bulma throw her arms around his neck in a warm hug. After all, they weren’t that close.

He watched as she finished their conversation by thanking him over and over again and slowly made her way back through the crowd, beaming all the way up to her other half, who was standing, arms folded, waiting patiently for her arrival. Nearly bumping into him, Bulma stopped an gave him a startled look. “Vegeta! I thought you’d be training or something by now.”

“I needed to speak with you,” he answered, his tone very warm. He was being surprisingly calm, and hadn’t even snapped out a single sarcastic comment so far. It was strange to have him acting so affectionately, being that the past few days had been strained for the couple.

Bulma was bewildered, finding herself trying to figure out what had changed his mood. “Oh,” was all she could offer in response.

Before she added anything else, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “What could that weakling possibly have done that deserved such thanks?” he asked, bringing the subject a step backward.

She slipped on a pleased smirk. “Well, Vegeta, you won’t have to worry about taking me to that stupid ol’ reunion anymore.” She punctuated her answer with a wink.

Vegeta’s face fell slightly, and the beginnings of a confused scowl began to creep into his features. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I thought you’d be happy to hear that,” she pouted, placing a hand on her hip. “I won’t be bothering you about it anymore, since Yamcha agreed to take me.”

The prince’s eyes flew open in shock, but he quickly concealed his initial emotion with anger. “You’ve decided to take that fool to your so-called important evening? Have you gone completely mad, woman?” His voice began to raise just slightly above the average level for the room. Bulma, taking notice of the concerned looks they were both getting from all sides, grasped for her indignant partner’s arm, now desperately trying to move them both out of the spotlight.

Vegeta purposely eluded her grasp, but opting for a more private moment away from the idiotic stares of the party-goers, he stalked out of the room, Bulma in close pursuit. Her shouts became more audible as they left the noise of the party, as she alternated between scolding him for embarrassing her and for leaving their initial fight.

When they had entered a more private room Vegeta turned and crossed his arms, awaiting the end of her barrage. It came somewhere around, “…and I think you owe me a little bit more respect than that!”

He rolled his eyes, only further infuriating the heiress. “Are you quite finished? Because I don’t see much of a point to your babbling.”

Her mouth gaped open for a moment, as she was caught between starting up another reprimand and taking a moment to think over why exactly he was trying to incite her irritation. She chose the latter, giving him time to speak. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

She contained her fuming gaze long enough to bring her eyes up to his in a questioning stare. “Oh, I’m sorry. What was that question? I must have missed it between the part where you totally ruined my party and made everyone uncomfortable by yelling at me for no reason, and the part where you walked away from me in the middle of our argument, making me look even worse!”

He scoffed. “For someone so concerned about what others think, you certainly don’t give much care regarding your little dates for these events.” Vegeta waited for her irritated physical response, which came in the form of a glare, and continued before she could speak. “And my question was regarding just that: Have you gone mad, are have you always been this stupid?”

Bulma couldn’t believe her ears. Why was he acting this way? She hadn’t expected him to care much at all about her special evening anymore, but it seemed that he had gone off the deep end at the news that she had found another date. “What is your problem, Vegeta?”

He snorted. “I have no problem. I’m just curious as to why you would take it upon yourself to ruin your own night. That pathetic weakling was no acceptable suitor to you in the past, and he will prove the same again.”

This time it was her turn to snort. “Well, let’s see…my first choice was a total selfish prick who told me to drop the subject, so, yeah, I went ahead with my second.” When he didn’t answer right away, she cocked her head at him. “Why are you so interested, anyway? Since when do you care who takes me to a dumb old ‘human gathering’?” she asked, mocking his own words.

He turned his back to her instantly, making his way for the door and purposely avoiding her gaze. “I don’t. If you want to end up miserable, it’s no concern of mine.”

When he reached the doorway, he paused to toss an antagonizing look at her one last time. “But when you do, I suggest that you look elsewhere for comfort, since I will find it highly amusing.”

Before she could respond, he blasted down the hallway, leaving a cluttered floor covered in over-turned catering carts in his wake. Blasted woman. Why couldn’t she see that he was trying to be…caring? Or something idiotic like that. It would be her own damned fault when her night fell apart. That thought rang in the prince’s mind as he angrily slammed the door to the spare bedroom for the second night in a row.

After he had calmed himself down a bit, he found himself pacing the floor, pondering just what had happened. Had he really just become angry over a stupid date? He hadn’t even wanted to go, and by all rights, he should have been pleased to hear that she had found a replacement. Vegeta wasn’t the jealous type, so it couldn’t have been her escort that was the problem for him. Was it…was it really that important to him that she was happy? Could it be that he wanted to make an appearance at her reunion, just so that he could be the one causing her happiness rather than anyone else? For once, did he actually want to be the one making her smile instead of irritating her to the point of madness?

He scoffed at his own foolishness. No, it couldn’t be any of those things.