Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Lost and Found: Royal Line Blues ❯ Getting to work ( Chapter 8 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter 8

"That… that bitch!" Bulma choked. She backed away from the bush in rage and anger, colliding with Vegeta's legs.
"You sure you still like that weakling?" Vegeta muttered.
"Don't even say a word," she sniffled, glaring up at him as she climbed to her feet in anger.
"Doesn't seem like much of a friend to me, from what I hear, girl," said Vegeta, standing there with a small smirk. "And you still maintain she's not a harlot?"
"She took HIS side… that… that bitch!" Bulma sniffled angrily as she stumbled off into the trees. Vegeta rolled his eyes and took off after her.
She leaned against a tree trunk when he caught up with her, sobbing her eyes out as she leaned on her arm. The Saiyain Prince walked over and stood only a foot from her, with his hands at his sides. He sensed that she'd seen what her so-called 'friends' really thought of her, and the words used to describe the wench were eerily familiar. Had she just been called 'spoiled brat' and 'princess' or did his ears deceive him. Perhaps she wasn't so different from him after all, despite the apparent weakness.
"I swear to kami I'll wring their necks," Bulma sobbed, beating the tree trunk with her fist. "God damn him… and her… I thought they were my friends…"
"What the hell are you crying about now?" Vegeta asked as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.
"None of your DAMN business!" Bulma yelled back.
"Did you not arrange for your friend to be mates with him? Why should you complain?" Vegeta asked, shaking his head.
"It wasn't supposed to turn out like THAT!" Bulma snarled.
"You're even more insane than I thought before, wench," Vegeta said, shaking his head. "Why do you humans have such a complex over mating rituals?"
"Oh, and I suppose you have better ideas about how you get women? You asked me to find you a mate… what am I supposed to have you do, drag them off by their hair?"
"Humph, no such thing. Saiyan courtship and mate selection is a highly complicated matter when first observed, but in theory is far more simple than you could imagine…" Vegeta explained calmly.
"Oh really?" she said, angrily brushing tears from her eyes.
"Low class mate for life. In the old days the royal chose one mate. But since the females became scarce on my world, they were relegated to the house of concubines. Naturally my father the king selected only the strongest female to conceive me. She became his primary mate. Yet when she died, he chose not to renew the bond with anyone else, and merely relieved his sexual hungers with the palace whores…"
"Whatever," Bulma mumbled. "I don't care… just…"
"My point is, wench, if you care to listen, which I don't know why I should give a shit one way or the other… is this… you wanted him to see other people, and you got what you wished for. So stop making that horrible noise and…"
"What do you care, asshole," she snarled. "just… just… go away…"
"Hn, seems to me that I was right. Those women ARE low class trollops, and that man you still have affection for is a weakling and a coward. Why worry about winning their favor?" he asked.
"You wouldn't understand."
"I don't care if I do, girl," Vegeta said. "I'm just sick and tired of hearing you whine and complain about those ingrates when you've got better and more important uses of your time."
"Like fixing your goddamn GR and ship?" she snorted. "Give me a fucking break…"
"For starters," he said, closing the distance between them. Bulma hugged herself, and then stumbled over to him. Sobbing, she buried her head in his shoulder, and leaned heavily against him. Vegeta kept both hands at his side, but did not push her away. Stiffly he stood there, letting the woman cry on his shoulder for a while. He said nothing, his pride unable to allow him to embrace and comfort her. Something had hit home, and he was not going to admit it to himself consciously. For a moment all those hard years were stripped away because he saw something painfully familiar in this weakling human female.
"Damn it," he mumbled. "I'm getting fucking soft… ah shit, the hell with it."
Bulma's fingers gripped the front of his shirt, twisting the cloth in her grasp. Vegeta gritted his teeth, putting up with the horrid noise because he knew that she wouldn't shut up any other way then to let her pity party run its course. Finally her breathing settled into a more reasonable pattern, and she lifted her head from his shoulder. "All… right Vegeta… you were right," she muttered.
"Hn, took you damn long enough to realize it, idiot," Vegeta said quietly, still keeping his hands to himself. They made fists as he struggled to control his body's reaction to her scent.
"Let's get the hell out of here and get your craft fixed. We can get some food capsules on the way…" she said, wiping her eyes. Vegeta grunted in agreement, steadying herself against him as they walked away towards the house. While half of him was celebrating in gleeful triumph at the success of his plan, the rest was disgusted. Vegeta ignored that tiny part of conscience developing. She was a means to an end, and one of the few humans he could tolerate and get into his 'trust'. Now she had a reason to hate, like he did. He would nurture that seed and win her over till she served him.
Who was he kidding? She was attractive, and his body had needs. The drive to reproduce was another urgent priority Vegeta could not ignore for long. Once he took her into space and recruited her help, she would be just what he needed. OF course he would train and return to earth in time for the androids, with appropriate Saiyan technology behind him, and perhaps an heir to carry on should he be destroyed.
"Things are going according to plan," Vegeta said to himself as he watched the woman go upstairs to her room.
"I'm gonna have to change into some work clothes first. Meet you over there in ten," she said.
"If you're not there, I'll fetch you myself. I'm going to get some food first," Vegeta nodded. "Don't make this another stupid excuse to…"
"Get on with it you dork," she said as she closed the door.

Vegeta had slipped back into the kitchen and eaten a large amount of food. He was carrying the rest out to the hanger with him as he walked. In order to keep others from suspecting his presence he did not fly. The others were too drunk to care, or too caught up in their various sexual gratifications.
Walking into the hanger, he saw the large curved surface of the ship blocking the view of the night sky. Down the ladder came Bulma, wearing coveralls, wiping sweat from her face. "There you are," she said, watching him finish the last bits of food.
"So, what have you done so far?" he asked, tossing her something. She caught the microdisc in her hand, looking at it in question.
"What's this?"
"Modification specifications… can you do it?"
"I can, but I'll need you to help with the programming, since you'll be running it," said Bulma. "You want voice activation?"
"This is the program, woman," he said, tossing her another disc. "Already written. Most of the other ship systems when you install the parts will respond to voice command."
"Good. I think this might take the better part of the night…" she said, wiping sweat off. "but I'll need you to lift the engine pods in place. Those suckers on here are shot, and need a complete overhaul…"
"What do I look like a crane?" he asked.
"Think of it as training, your highness," she said with a grin. "Don't tell me that you wasted your time in the GR and can't lift a few itty-bitty graviton engines!"
"Ha ha," he snorted. "Just get back to your work, and I'll move the damn equipment… just don't blow anything up!"
She saw him pulling at his shirt and yelped, "What are you doing?"
"I'm not going to wear this damn fool stuff schlepping the equipment around. That idiot mother of yours will never leave me in peace!" Vegeta said as he threw his shirt aside and she blushed at the sight of his bared chest. He was turning around to grab something from a capsule he'd dropped and Bulma rushed up the ladder to stop herself from getting a free show. Although she really DID want a look, she didn't want to hear his stupid smirk at this time. Not when she was in a good mood.
Minutes later he seated his feet in his boots, and tugged on his gloves. Climbing on board the ship he saw her tucked under a console, her shapely legs protruding out onto the floor. She was singing along to some stupid blaze music playing from a mp3.
Vegeta lightly kicked her foot with one booted toe. She yelped and narrowly avoided smacking her head on the console. "What?" she yelped, letting the earbuds drop.
"Can't get rid of me THAT easily, making yourself deaf. I'm ready to install the engines, but I need you to make the mods before they're welded on…"
"Are you nuts? I could simply make the repairs…"
"No, woman, the connections are precise, and require a delicate touch. Since you don't have a proper space dock and zero G facility, and we don’t' have much time, you'll have to do it while levitating…"
"Oh great…" she mumbled. "And Dad took the hover equipment with him to work on the new satellites he's…"
"I'll have to maneuver you in place along with the units," he said. "So you'll have to be nice to me…"
"Don't flatter yourself, jerkface. And why are you wearing your gear?"
"In case the ship blows up of course," Vegeta sneered. She threw a wrench at him with a squeal of anger, and he caught it easily.
"You ass!" she fumed, scooting out from under and stamping her feet. He had to admit she was cute when she was pissed.
"You look even uglier when you're angry," he further needled.
"Just get your royal ass out there, and let's DO this!" she grumbled. Vegeta climbed down the ramp after her, watching the angry sway of her hips as she dropped to the ground.