Gundam Wing Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Third Annual Mediaminer.org Big Fanfiction Contest/Award Ceremony/Oscars/Emmies/Golden Globes Thingie! ❯ Romance ( Chapter 3 )

Special thanks to all of Mediaminer.org for helping in the contest.

Special thanks to the creators of anime for giving us inspiration for stories.

Special thanks to NBC for letting us borrow the auditorium.

No thanks to those responsible for censorship laws.

Special thanks to the fine people over at VGCats.com

No thanks to Frodo for being a moron and not throwing the Ring over.

 

**

 

As the commercial break ended, Fanilia and Psy took the stage once more and sighed happily at all of the applause that came their way. Psy spoke first into the microphone:

 

“Ah, Romance: that thing that girls want before they move onto the good part.”

 

Fan promptly swatted Psy on the back of the head. “Yes, Romance, the beautiful thing that touches all of our hearts and makes us go `Awww, kawaii!'”

 

“Yes, but sadly we had no guest announcer for this category due to lack of funding, so ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the Judge of Romance - Becca Stareyes!”

 

The girl walked out and gave Fan a hug and Psy a kiss. Fan dragged Psy off of the stage as he tried to glomp the Judge. Becca smiled and stood behind the podium.

 

“Our first award is for Best Romance, aptly named `Shut Up and Kiss Me Award.' The Winner is... Chronicles, by Sueric!”

 

*Excerpt*

 

*BUZZ* Zap! FIZZLE!

 

*End Excerpt*

 

“Erm, I'm sorry, it seems that the screen is experiencing a little technical malfunction...” Becca said, blushing a little as she sneaked backwards and kicked the screen to try to get it to work.

 

Becca looked out into the audience and sighed. “And it seems that the three who were accepting the award for Sueric before have stepped out, so let's just move on, shall we? Next is the predictably-clichéd Award titled `Romeo and Juliet Award' for Best Couple. And the winner is... Vegeta and Bulma, from Lady Lark's story Moonlight Confessions!”

 

Becca kicked the screen once more and the screen fizzled back to life.

 

*Excerpt*

 

"Vegeta?" she called lightly
"What?" he grumbled.
"Come out here and be with me."
He considered ignoring her request, but something made him reconsider. Pulling the towel from around his neck and setting it on a chair, he walked out into the night.
The crisp coolness of the night air felt good against his sweaty skin. The woman was clad in a simple ivory chemise and a silk robe of the same color. The robe was unbelted, signaling that she had thrown it on for warmth rather than modesty. Even now after nine years and a child, she was still stunning. She possessed a body to make a priest renounce his vows of celibacy and Vegeta was no priest.
He moved to stand behind her sitting form. She turned and looked up at him, giving him a small mysterious smile.
"Sit down, Vegeta, and enjoy the moon," she said invitingly.
"Why?" he asked, harshly. "I have seen moons before. Yours is ugly and grey. Why would I want to look at something else that is ugly? I have you to fulfill that need for me," he stated, deliberately baiting her.
Bulma's eyes flashed with azure fire. "Fine! I asked you nicely, you lamebrain, but you're obviously too stupid to take a hint! Well, that's not my problem!" she raged. "I'll just be going, Your Highness, so you don't have to look at this ugly thing!" Grabbing her wineglass, she stood up preparing to storm past him into the bedroom.
Smirking, Vegeta moved to block her path. Bulma growled and tried to force past him, but that proved to be an exercise in futility. Taking a step back, she tried to spot an opening, even though she knew logically escape was unlikely unless Vegeta decided to let her go. She glared at the Saiyajin prince, who only continued to smirk at her in that infuriating way of his.
"Vegeta, move out of the way!"
"No."
"Listen, you misbegotten son of a monkey, you get the hell out of my way, now!" she shrieked, punctuating her statement by hurling her half full wineglass at him. Negligently, he swatted over the side of the balcony, momentarily taking his eyes off of the raging woman in front of him.
This was the opening Bulma was waiting for. She darted to one side, attempting to make it to the relative safety of the bedroom. However, she only managed a few steps before she felt a muscular arm snag her around her waist, lifting her feet off the ground. Twisting in her captor's embrace, she swung one clenched fist at his head. Vegeta blocked her blow effortlessly, taking care not to harm the woman struggling in his arms.
"Let me go, you ass!" Bulma yelled, trying to worm free.
Vegeta chuckled, feeling her squirming against him. "I will not let you go, wench. I enjoy you far too much to let you escape," he stated, fully aware his words had a double meaning.
Bulma stopped her struggles and turned her face so she could look into Vegeta's eyes. What she saw reflected in them entranced her. For the first time in all of her years of knowing him, he was allowing her to see into the Vegeta buried under his harsh exterior. She saw pride reflected there, of course. Pride in himself, but also pride in her. She saw his desire for her there as well. But then again, she knew he desired her already she could feel evidence of that against her thigh. And she saw a myriad of other feelings as well in those black orbs, all pointing to one undeniable fact. Vegeta cared for her, loved her.
Unable to tear her eyes from his, Bulma reached one slim hand up and tentatively touched it to the side of his face. She felt him lean almost imperceptibly into her hand and an upwelling of emotion threatened to overcome her. In that instant, she was struck by the power she wielded over the Saiyajin Prince. And in the next moment, she was chilled by the revelation that he possessed the same power over her.
Vegeta leaned his head forward so that their brows were touching, and Bulma slipped her arms around his neck. She didn't know how long they stayed that way, each drinking in the other's presence. She felt Vegeta shift subtly, bringing his other arm up to stroke her back. She sighed and moved her head to rest it against his shoulder.
Breaking the silence, Bulma asked the question which had been plaguing her thoughts. "Why, Vegeta?"
The hand stroking her back stopped. "What do you mean, woman?"
She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself backward to look at him. "I don't know. I'm sorry," she said softly. Bulma wriggled in his embrace indicating she wanted to be let go. For once, he accommodated her. She reached her hand up once again and stroked his face, but was saddened to see Vegeta's guarded expression was once more etched upon his features.
Walking over to the edge of balcony, she placed her hands on the rail and looked up at the sky to collect her thoughts. The moon was higher in the sky now, she noted absently. Drawing a deep breath, she started to speak. "I think I'm asking why to a lot of things, Vegeta," she began softly. "The first in my mind is 'Why me?' Why did you pick me out of all of the females in the Universe?" she queried half in frustration half in confusion. "The second is 'Why did you choose to stay?' You could have left after the Cell Games but didn't. Why? I never understood that, because you certainly hadn't stuck around before that," she continued, her voice rising in pitch and tempo. "The third I suppose is 'Why did you kill all those people at the tournament?' and that spawns another of 'Why did you have to die?'" her voice caught, tears filling her eyes. "Do you know how much that hurt? It was like a piece of me had been ripped out! I never want to feel that way again. But I guess the biggest why is 'Why do you treat me the way you do?' The insults and the contrariness along with the neglect. Just, Why?!" Tears streamed down her face as she drew to the end of her speech, and she swiped at them angrily with the back of one hand.
Vegeta stared at her for a minute, unable to form an answer to all of her questions. Slowly, he walked over to stand beside her at the rail. He did not turn to look at her, but instead stared at the moon for several minutes.
When he did speak, the words which came out of his mouth seemed oddly subdued. "Why are you humans so attached to your moon?"
"You're avoiding the question, Vegeta," she stated flatly.
"No, I am not," he retorted. "Please tell me why you are so attached to your moon?"
"I don't know!" Bulma said, exasperated. "I guess because it's always been there. It's a part of our world; just looking at it could make me feel calmer and more connected to Chikyuu. I know a lot of people who feel the same way." She paused, tilting her head to gaze at the white orb in the sky. After a moment, she turned her head to face Vegeta and found that he was watching her. In a quieter tone, she continued. "Then, suddenly it wasn't there anymore and I realized how much we had taken it for granted. It was like a big part of our global identity was gone and our equilibrium was thrown off. Now that it's back, I guess that we appreciate it more because we know what we felt like when it was gone," she concluded.
"There is the answer to most of your questions."
"Huh? I don't understand."
"Hn," Vegeta grunted, a wry smile coming to his lips. "I expected as much." At Bulma's glare, he continued. "Let me explain. Your first question is easy and you should already know the answer to it."
"Well, I don't since I asked the question, you muscle-bound meathead."
"Obviously," he said derisively. "I chose you, because you are the best match for me. You were not intimidated by me, despite your pitiful fighting ability. You have the heart of a Saiyajin."
"I do not! You take that back!
"No."
"I am nothing like a Saiyajin, Vegeta. You've said it yourself many times. I'm too weak, and I don't like fighting." Vegeta snorted in derision at her statement. "I don't enjoy getting my ass handed to me on a regular basis the way you appear to. I have more sense than to go picking fights I can't win!"
He held up a hand to stop her tirade. "Listen, and mind you listen well, woman, for I will never explain myself to you again. You are wrong. You do have the heart of a Saiyajin." His eyes swept over her face, taking in the stubborn set of her chin. "You do enjoy battle, although you prefer a battle of wits not of strength. You thrive on conflict, be it mental, emotional, or physical. You automatically seek to be the best, the strongest, the smartest. You refuse to accept defeat. You seek out challenges. You crave the excitement, the thrill of doing something that may cause you pain or even death for the sake of some intangible reward." He stopped, letting his lips curve into a smirk. "Indeed, your sense is no better than mine; you consistently fight me although you stand no chance of winning. Although, I will grant you your aim has improved since we first met."
"I'll show you my aim, you overgrown primate!" Bulma shrieked, bringing her right fist up to strike at Vegeta's head.
Taking care not to hurt her, the warrior caught her wrist with his left hand. Snarling, the blue-haired scientist retaliated with her left fist. Again, Vegeta captured her wrist with his free hand. Shifting his grip slightly, he spun Bulma in his grasp so that she was effectively bound with her arms crossed against her chest.
"Let me go!" she demanded, struggling free herself.
"Why? I have you right where I want you," he murmured against the nape of her neck. "You realize, you have proved my point, woman?"
Bulma stopped squirming as his earlier words penetrated her into her brain. She had never considered her actions in quite that way. Their squabbles both physical and verbal were forms of battle. It was true that she often tried to hit, or in some other way physically best, Vegeta and never succeeded. She conceded she did enjoy their verbal sparring, he challenged her intelligence more than any other man. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his shoulder.
"You may be right, Vegeta." She sighed, the anger and frustration from moments ago fading away as she contemplated his observations. "You may be right. Dammit!"
He chuckled, holding her closer. "Of course I am."
"You don't have to rub it in, you know."
"Why not?"
"Because it is rude," she stated, heatedly.
"Since when have I ever cared about human courtesies?" he asked, archly.
Bulma suppressed a sigh. "I know you don't care about them. But I do." She tilted her head to look at Vegeta's bemused profile. "And I am not going to win this one am I?"
"No."
"Asshole."
"And you love it," he observed.

 

*End Excerpt*

 

From the backstage waiting area came a high-pitched squeal, which caused many of the watching audience to cover their ears in protest. A red haired woman dressed in a black china dress barreled onto the stage jumping up and down in excitement.

"Oh my Gods! Oh my Gods! Oh my gods! I can't believe I won!" she gushed over and over. Reaching the podium, she turned and shook Becca Stareyes' hand. "Thank you!"

Facing the crowd, she absently smoothed down the front of her dress. "Um... I'm not sure what to say. I want to thank my roommate and beta, Rhianikki, as well as all of people here at Mediaminer. I want to give a shout out to all Bulma and Vegeta fans and look - I didn't end up killing one of the pair off, that has to be a record for me."

Lady Lark looked down and noticed that the orchestra was readying their instruments. "One last thing before I am played off the stage, I want to thank my readers. Because without them, this wouldn't be possible. Thank you, everyone!"

 

Lady Lark ran to the backstage while hugging her award. Bulma, in the audience, blushed while Vegeta merely grumbled. Becca blinked and shrugged, walking offstage as Psy and Fan took the stage again.

 

“Awww, wasn't that just romantic? And wasn't it nice that this was posted just a little bit past Valentine's Day?” Psy pointed out.

 

Fan smacked Psy in the back of the head. “It's only out after Valentine's Day because you never got off your butt to write it!”

 

Psy winced and sweat dropped. “Erm, well, anyway, Original is up next! Don't miss it!”

 

Suddenly, the light went out.

 

“Or, maybe you will.”

 

**

 

To Be Continued...