Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What About Pride? ❯ A Lot of Catching Up To Do ( Chapter 4 )

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The big day had finally come for the all-grown-up Miss Bulma Briefs. As she stood in front of the mirror modeling her thirtieth outfit of the morning she heard someone enter the room behind her and turned to face them. Before she could stop herself, Vegeta’s name escaped her lips hopefully. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, she was mistaken. She tried to hide her disappointment as her mother entered the room. Bulma didn’t have to try too hard, however, considering that Bunny was, as usual, oblivious to everything going on around her.

Bunny immediately took her daughter’s hands and beamed in delight at the dress she was currently sporting. “Oooh!” she squealed. “This one’s even better than the last one, honey!”

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Mom, this is the last one. I haven’t changed yet since you were last in here.”

Not missing a beat, her mother patted her hands gently. “It’s all in the attitude, dear! You just pull it off so well this time. Something must have changed since I last saw you.”

Bulma sighed. “No, mom. Nothing’s changed. I just can’t seem to pull myself together for this thing. I mean, it was nice of Yamcha to take me and all that, but now I’m having second thoughts. I just know I wouldn’t have all these butterflies in my stomach if Vegeta was taking me,” She sat down on her bed, pulling the bangles from her wrists dejectedly. “But it’s no use. He’s a stubborn, royal pain and he’s never going to change.”

“Not even for a girl as pretty as you?” Bunny asked hopefully as she sat down on the bed to stroke her daughter’s hair.

Bulma smiled, despite herself. “Not even for me, Mom.”

Bunny stood up to leave the room. “Well, I don’t believe it for a minute. I see the way he looks at you. I know the way that man acts sometimes, but Bulma, darling, you’re his everything.”

Bulma interjected a disbelieving “Pffft.”

Her mother just smiled, and started toward the door. Before she walked out, though, she turned to her daughter one last time. “You may not believe me, but a mother’s intuition is never wrong, you know.” She added a wink, and that was the end of it as she left the room. Bulma just sighed. Her mother could be completely oblivious sometimes, but this time really took the cake.

Later that night, Bulma made her way down the stairs in a stunning black dress. She had teased and tousled for hours, and when she reached the bottom of the stairs the reactions she got proved that it had all been well worth it. Vegeta was sitting at the dinner table along with Trunks, eating the food Bunny had prepared for them before she and Dr. Briefs had gone off to some big company dinner. As Bulma approached, Trunks looked up from his meal in surprise. “Wow, mom! Where are you going tonight?”

Bulma smiled as she caught a tinge of the same reaction from Vegeta, who quickly replaced it with a heightened fervor for whatever he was eating at the moment. She looked back at their son who was gazing at her expectantly. “Trunks, don’t you remember? I told you I have a very important meeting with some old…friends tonight. That’s why you’re staying at Aunt Chi Chi’s tonight.”

At the news, Trunks bolted out of his chair. “Alright! Sleep over!” he dashed up the stairs, forgetting the rest of his meal in his haste to pack cooler pajamas than Goten’s.

Bulma shook her head, amazed at her child’s ability to tune her out until the very last moment. She pulled out a chair and sat down next to Vegeta, who was still doing his best to ignore her, and began to strap herself into her favorite pair of stilettos. The silence grew between them, and all that could be heard was his munching. Finally, she turned to him after securing one of her feet. “I really wish you wouldn’t act like I’m doing something wrong. I don’t know what you want from me.”
He continued to stare forward, so she continued. “I kept asking you to go, and I thought you were going to kill me after a week of that. So when I got another date, I thought you would be happy. But you’re acting like you’re mad at me, so I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Again, there was no verbal answer. But he did slow his chewing in order to hear her speak as she grew quieter. She reached out to delicately place a hand on his shoulder. “Vegeta, I love you,” she started. Then she pulled her hand away, reaching for her second shoe and returning to her work. “But you can be a total jerk sometimes.”

With that last sentiment, she strode off toward the stairs to the front entrance to wait for her date. Surprisingly enough, by the time she reached the lobby she was greeted by the sight of Yamcha in a tux, holding a bouquet of tiger lilies. She slowed her pace, taking it all in, and finally was able to form words. “You’re…uh, you’re early.”

He smiled warmly and took her hand to kiss it. “Bulma, I wanted everything to be perfect for you tonight. I know how important all this is to you, so I want it all to go right.”

Swooning for a moment, she was glad when he offered her the flowers, since it gave her something else to focus on. “You remembered,” she said softly.

Nodding, he began to lead her toward his car. “Uh huh. They’re still your favorite, right?”

She swallowed hard, and nodded back. “Yes, they are. Yamcha, why are you doing all this?”

He took a breath before answering. “Listen, babe. I know that back when we were dating, I didn’t treat you so great. I may have even taken you for granted sometimes.” She gave him a look, and he rephrased. “Okay, most of the time. And, well, I just wanted to make it up to you now.”

“Oh,” she replied, still thinking it over. “Well, thank you.”
“No problem, babe,” he grinned as he opened her car door for her. “By the way, how do I look?”

She gave him a once over and didn’t answer right away. He didn’t take this as a good sign, and shifted nervously. Finally, she spoke up. “Well…not that you don’t look great, but it’s not a terribly formal event.”
He looked down at himself, noticing for the first time that he might be a tad bit over-dressed for a high school reunion. “So…how formal is it, exactly?”

“Well,” she started, coming toward him to pull off his jacket and throw it in the back seat. “Not this formal.” Then she made a grab for his tie and untied it, tossing it to join his jacket. His vest followed, and finally she popped open his top two buttons to reveal his undershirt. “I’d say about this formal.”

He glanced at himself in his side-view mirror. “Nice work! Yeah, this is more comfortable anyway.” Smiling at her, he gestured toward the inside of the car, still holding her door open. “Well, what do you say?”

Giving a slight chuckle at his gentlemanly acts, she sat down in the passenger’s seat. “I say, take me to the ball, Prince Charming!”

When they arrived at the reunion, Bulma did her best to smooth down any wrinkles her dress had acquired on the way there and entered the building, shoulders back and head held high. Her date came up behind her, wrapping one arm around her back in support that, although she would never admit it, she really needed at that moment.

The two followed the music of past years to the outside of the grand ball room. Just outside the entrance was a small table, covered in name tags. Bulma snatched up the little off-white slip with her name on it and frowned as she pinned it to her dress, noticing the way it cheesed up her whole outfit. She wasn’t upset by it for long, though, as she reached into her purse and pulled out a head of one of the lilies from her bouquet. She had pulled one off in the car (never know when you might need a quick accessory!) and taken it in, just in case. Pinning it to her nametag to add a splash of class and color, she smiled as she took a quick glance in her compact mirror. Yep, this night was going swimmingly.

Yamcha offered her his hand and the pair entered the ball room as if they had stepped straight off the cover of a fashion magazine. The entire room took notice of the heiress as she glided over to the refreshments table to flaunt her date. There wasn’t a large crowd - only three men and four women. But all three of the men instantly stopped what they were doing as they took notice of the blue-haired bombshell. She gracefully moved to the rhythm of the music, and glanced toward the punch bowl causing four men to make a move for the crystal glasses, resulting in only one winning out as Yamcha dipped into the bowl to retrieve it for his date.

She smiled as she received an equal amount of puppy-dog eyes from the men and glares from the women. Bulma absolutely relished the chaos she had created, but didn’t linger too long - after all, she had lots of places to mingle tonight. But she had yet to locate the two people she really needed to mingle with - Electra Vossler and Natasha Ruford. They were, so far, no where to be found. Maybe they weren’t coming. No, no, neither of them would pass up a chance to judge and ridicule others for being less successful than them. Well, Bulma would find them eventually. Right now, she had a whole room full of people to impress besides those two.

From the refreshments table, Bulma decided to lead Yamcha out onto the dance floor. Remembering that he had actually been a good dancer on their dates (those of which he had decided to show up for, anyway), she gently laid her hand on his forearm. “Yamcha, sweetie, can we dance?”

He gave her a grin. “Thought you’d never ask, babe.”

With that, he led her onto the open space between the rest of the couples that were currently attempting to show off their skills. Bulma placed her hands on her date’s shoulder and in his hand, and they began to sway to the music, twirling around to the slow-moving melody. After a moment had passed, she glanced around the room to be sure that everyone was watching them. Of course, most of the men were, as well as a very small number of women. But she could tell that the larger portion of the females in the room were watching them as well - just trying to make it as discreet as possible, waiting for her to slip up.

When she was satisfied with the number of eyes on the both of them, Bulma leaned into Yamcha’s chest happily, putting her lips next to his ear to talk. “This is going perfectly, Yamcha! Thank you so much for being my date.”

He smiled and gently spun her around, then brought her back to face him. “Anytime, babe. You deserve this kind of stuff.”

It was then that she realized she was entering dangerous territory. It had been years since Yamcha and herself had dated. And most of the time that they were, she had been fumingly angry or miserable. It wasn’t entirely his fault - she had a temper that not many guys knew how to deal with properly. But still…it almost seemed like ending things between them had been a mistake. After all, they were really just kids back then. Now they were both adults, living separate lives and being more in-tune with their own identities. Sure, back then she had been a screaming banshee and he had had a roving eye, but now…well, to be honest, she couldn’t figure out what made Yamcha so off-limits to her.

Granted, Vegeta was better than him in almost every way…at least, she had thought so, up until tonight. But now…he didn’t even seem interested in her in a romantic way anymore. Maybe things had fizzled between them. Or maybe all he had wanted from her was a physical relationship, and now that he was bored with her, he wanted them both to move on. Whatever was going on between Bulma and Vegeta, she was sure of one thing: Yamcha was currently offering more than Vegeta could ever live up to, but for some reason she couldn’t quite place…she still wished that it was Vegeta doing the offering.

She lifted her eyes up to her date’s, wondering if she should really drag him into all this, and for a split second pondering whether she had made a mistake in letting him go, when she suddenly felt a distinct rubbing sensation against her upper thigh. Shocked, she looked down at where his hands were. One was gently cradling her hand, and the other was wrapped chastely around her waist. Then, how…?

Just then, she felt it again. “Bzzzzzzzt.” Oh.

“Sorry, babe,” Yamcha whispered in her ear. “That’s my phone. I think I should get it.”

Starting to panic as she looked around, she noticed that most of the eyes that were on them at the beginning of their dance were now roving the room, looking for something more exciting or embarrassing. She nodded at Yamcha, letting him know that it was alright to take it, and he pulled his phone from his pocket, pressing it into his ear and talking as discreetly as he possibly could. “What’s up?”

There was a moment of silence as there was apparently a very long answer to his question on the other end of the line. His face grew worried, then pleading, then as the person finished, he looked at Bulma sadly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there. Just don’t go anywhere, okay?”

Bulma watched him nervously. What did he mean “be right there?” Yamcha flipped his phone shut and told her everything she needed to know in a look. She had seen that look hundreds of times back when they were dating. “Listen, Bulma, I know how important all this is to you, but…look, I’m really sorry…I don’t know how to say this…I have to go.”

She narrowed her eyes, pulling him toward her to dance so that their conversation could be kept off-display. “What do you mean, you have to go?”

“My girlfriend’s car broke down on the highway. She’s sitting out there in the dark, and something could happen to her. I’m really sorry, Bulma, but I have to go get her.”

“Yamcha, I’m not going to leave.”

He looked at her in disbelief, then realized whom he was addressing and rethought his reaction. “Okay, well, that’s fine. But I can’t stay here with you. I’m sorry, babe. I really am. Good luck with everything.”

“Yamcha! Come on, doesn’t she have freaking Triple “A” or something?” she hissed at him.

“I’m sorry, babe,” was his only response, and he left her there, staring at him as he walked out the door on one of the most important nights of her life. She felt some of the stares that had left her begin to return as she tried her very best to remain calm and collected while standing alone on the dance floor.

It was just then that the worst possible thing happened. Bulma happened to glance at the entrance just at the moment which Natasha and Electra had chosen to show up. No, no, no! This could not be happening. This night was supposed to be perfect, and now…everything was ruined. She felt her stomach sink as Electra caught sight of her standing there, and she decided that making a break for one of the tables instead of just standing there would be futile. They had already seen her, and now it was time to accept the hand that fate had dealt her.

As soon as the two had reached her, Natasha began to give her assessment of Bulma’s current situation. “Hm, well, this is a familiar sight. You, standing alone without a date.”

Electra grinned wolfishly. “Not surprising, I have to say.”

The two women had a laugh at her expense, and Bulma Briefs, who had achieved her master’s in public relations, could not actually form words in her award-winning mind to respond. Her mouth suddenly went dry, and she did her very best not to tear up at the thought of the loss of her perfect victory. Electra snickered. “Look, Tash. She can’t even talk anymore.”

“Maybe she switched her brain with some dumb ape during one of her little experiments!” That sent the two women into fits of high-pitched giggling that cut poor Bulma’s self-esteem in half.

It was just then that the most unimaginable thing happened. The cackling suddenly stopped as both Natasha’s and Electra’s gazes were drawn away from Bulma and to the man standing behind her. Bulma didn’t understand what had happened until she felt two strong arms slip around her waist from behind her. She turned around immediately to face her gorgeous prince, dressed to kill. He was wearing the navy blue Armani pinstripe shirt she had bought him, which he had vowed never to wear, and she felt herself swoon at how handsome he looked in it.

Still holding her in his arms, the next words he uttered Bulma never could have seen coming in a million years. “I’m so sorry, darling. I was busy putting away our coats when I caught sight of you out here, and I suppose I got lost in your beauty for a while.” He finished his apology with an exceptionally long and lustful kiss to her neck, putting on a very convincing show for the two women in front of them.

Bulma could only smile as they both took turns swooning over Vegeta and glaring at her for having snatched such a man against their judgments. Before they could be any more thoroughly embarrassed for not having dates of their own, Natasha sneered toward Bulma, “Well, it was nice seeing you again, Bulma.”

“Yeah, a real treat,” the second spat like venom. The two finally walked away, leaving Bulma alone, wrapped in her prince’s arms.

Bulma could only stare at him adoringly as Vegeta “humph”ed and ignored her gaze, looking over her head as they swayed in time with the music. She smiled and let them stay silent for a while, until finally asking why he had decided to come after all. Vegeta didn’t answer for a moment, and finally he responded, “To make a fool out of the mate of the Prince of all Saiyans is a disgrace to the title. And that buffoon was sure to do so.”

She smiled again at his sideways sweet talk. “Oh, so you were protecting your ‘title’ hm?”

He didn’t answer, but he held her a little closer. Bulma pressed her head against his shoulder. “So, why is it that you acted so sweetly in front of those two?”

“Because no one is allowed to speak to you in such a manner that those two wenches did,” Vegeta answered without hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow.

“No one but me, of course,” he finished.

Bulma giggled girlishly and slipped her arms around his neck. She gave him a long and languid kiss to reward him for his efforts (and give him a preview of what the rest of his reward would be) and the two finished off the night with grace and dignity the likes of which no one in the room had ever seen, nor would see again. Then again, no one in the room could say that they had been privileged enough to spend an evening with the royal couple.