Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Pseudo Ferocity ❯ Weak Heart ( Chapter 11 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the character appearing in the manga or television show. Nor am I making any profit off of this story.

 

Author's Notes: Okay, I just wanted to apologize for how incredibly late this chapter is. I had a really busy last week of school before the holidays, 'cause the semester will be ending soon after the holidays are over, so my teachers have all gone into major exam preparation mode, which is not fun. Then, because it is the holidays, we had family and friends visiting, and I'm sure everyone knows the kind of craziness and stress that can result from that. So, I haven't had much time to write, but I finally sat my ass down and got this thing done, so here we go! I hope you enjoy it!

 

*Special thanks to ssjblackguy and Silver Sun for beta-ing*

 

11: Weak Heart

 

"Bulma, honey bunches of oats, how are you doing today?" Caleb crooned, gliding into her office and seating himself in the chair opposite her desk.

 

"Okay Caleb, what is it that you want? I know that tone of voice."

 

"Tsk tsk, Bulma. Not even a hello for your best buddy Caleb?" He teased, crossing his ankle over his knee.

 

"Oh Caleb, I was ever so lonely without you here. Why, I'm so glad you've arrived." She looked pointedly at him, flashing a wonderfully fake smile and fluttering her eyelashes. Caleb snorted, and Bulma shook her head, a small smile curving her lips. "Now, what is it that you want?"

 

"I need a really, really super big favor from you Bulma."

 

"Shoot."

 

"Bruce's firm is doing another show tonight, and my parents have tickets. And you know what they'll say if I go alone. I'll have to sit there all night listening to them about what a shame it is that I don't have a girlfriend."

 

"Caleb, how's me being there going help? They know we're strictly friends, and besides that, don't they know I'm with Yamcha anyway?"

 

"But if you're there they won't subject me to the lecture. Please, please, please Bulma! I'll never ask you for anything ever again!"

 

"Caleb, you can't keep hiding this forever." She sighed, "Eventually, they're going to find out. It's a wonder they haven't already."

 

"You'll get to see Vegeta after the show." He prodded, secretly pleased at the light flush that colored her cheeks at the mention of his introverted tenant. "You'd like to see Vegeta, wouldn't you Bulma?" He asked again, "And I'm giving you a perfect excuse, so nobody will think it's too obvious."

 

"What do you mean, obvious?" She shrieked, blushing a deeper shade of red.

 

"Bulma, I know you. I've known you since we were kids. You like the guy."

 

"What about Yamcha? I've got Yamcha."

 

"Hon, you told me yourself that Yamcha was getting, and I quote, 'Boring and blah.' Now, this does not sound like a statement of a woman in love. While, on the contrary, I have it on good authority that you've been calling Vegeta nearly every night for the past few days. Plus, the fact that you blush and stammer like a schoolgirl every time I so much as mention his name…"

 

"Caleb-" she started, but he cut her off again.

 

"Bulma," he took her hand, reaching across the desk. "Bulma, you're my friend, and I want to see you happy. Yamcha's a good guy. We both know that, but he's just not making you happy anymore."

 

"You're one to talk Caleb." She snapped back, pushing a loose strand of aqua hair behind her ear. "You've been butt-crazy in love with Bruce for over a year now, and you can't even admit it to anyone but me. Hell, you can't even admit you're gay."

 

"That's completely different and you know it." Caleb huffed, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms. "At least you don't have to worry about anyone hating you for the choices you make. You don't have to worry about your family and friends turning their backs on you because of who you love."

 

"Don't talk to me about that! You have no idea Caleb, no idea of how my friends and family would react if they knew I had even the slightest interest in Vegeta!" She jumped out of her desk, turning her back to him, trying to hide the sudden emotion in her eyes.

 

"Bulma…"

 

"I don't even know why I'm acting this way…" she sniffled, feeling incredibly silly because of her irrational emotional outburst. "I…I don't know what to do. Before Vegeta left, I'd never given him a second thought. I mean, I always thought he was good looking and all that…but he was…he was just Vegeta. And now, I can't stop thinking about him. I was so happy with Yamcha, but now I can barely stand to go out with him. I…he kissed me the other night, Cay, and you know what I almost did? I almost whispered Vegeta's name! Can you believe that? I mean, I must be crazy."

 

"Bulma, you're not crazy." He placed a hand on her shoulder, having gotten up from his chair and moved around the desk.

 

"Okay, not crazy…just weird then. I mean, it must be some sort of…of…I don't know. It's like I only want him around because he's gone now."

 

"Maybe that's true. But maybe it's not. Maybe you've liked him all along, and it just took his absence for you to realize. I mean, remember Bruce's old boyfriend, Randy?" She nodded, "When I first realized I liked Bruce, he was going out with Randy. He never had time for me, and I got really jealous. All I wanted was to be around him…I thought…I thought that it was just that, jealousy that one of my best friends had found someone else to hang around with. It felt like he didn't need me anymore. When they broke up, I thought it would go away, that things would go back to the way they were…but they didn't. I still felt lonely when he wasn't around, still wanted to be with him."

 

"So you don't think it's just a missing-him thing? You think I want to…to be with him?"

 

"Bulma, it's pretty obvious…And hell, what could it hurt? You and Yamcha are going nowhere, and we both know you'll be miserable if you never give Vegeta a shot."

 

"I'll think about it." she smiled. "So, what time are you picking me up tonight?"

 

"I'm thinking, seven-ish." Caleb grinned back, pulling open the door to her office. He blew her a little mock-kiss, gliding out the door with all the grace of a swan.

 

"See you then!" She called after him, but there was no reply, so she flopped down in her chair, intending to get back to her mountain of paperwork. He probably hadn't heard her anyway, but she smiled nonetheless. Caleb had a knack for making her smile, always knowing the right words to say, the right things to do. But breaking up with Yamcha, just to take a chance at Vegeta was risky business. There was no way she could even tell whether the Saiyan thought of her in a romantic way at all! Would it be worth it, even if he turned her down?

 

"Why does life have to be so hard?" She moaned aloud, frowning at the framed snapshot sitting on her desk. Yamcha and herself, of course, smiling and looking happy for the camera. There had been a time when she was utterly content with life, completely sure that she and Yamcha would get married, have the typical 2.5 children, and live happily ever after. But Caleb's words rang true, she admitted. Things with Yamcha weren't all they used to be, and even if he did end up proposing to her, she wasn't sure she'd even say yes. Scratch that, if it weren't for her crush on the Saiyan, she'd have said yes, and pretended to herself and the rest of the world that everything was alright, that she was deeply in love, when really, she'd have been dying inside. "Yeah, like Yamcha'd ever get the balls to propose anyway." She snorted to herself. Long ago, the admission would have brought anger, frustration that their future dreams did not coincide, but she found herself grateful for her boyfriend's fear of commitment, glad that she would never have to turn down a proposal of marriage. It would have been too hard a thing to do.

 

But the question of whether or not she wanted to call it quits for good was still looming over her. Maybe it would be a good idea to give it a little bit of time, figure out where she stood with Vegeta before throwing away over ten years with Yamcha. "Kami…has it really been that long?" She wondered, remembering her meeting with Yamcha, like it had happened mere moments ago.

 

Bulma Briefs, at the tender age of sixteen, had fallen in love with a desert bandit named Yamcha, who was deathly afraid of the opposite sex. She giggled, remembering the old days, gradually helping the poor boy get over his irrational phobia. And for so many years, they had been happy. Sure, there were the occasional fights, the on-and-off relationships, but still, she had been happy. Yamcha had always been good to her, even when she was jealously accusing him of dating other girls. With a wry smile, she thought to herself that it had not all been hearsay. He had never actually cheated on her, of course, but no one could tell her that Yamcha was not a flirt. Then again, she was quite guilty of that charge as well.

 

They had shared so many good times, and even though Bulma knew, in her heart, that they were no longer what they used to be, she was reluctant to let it all go. It was unfair of her, she knew, to tote him along under the pretense of a relationship when she was really pining for the surly Saiyan no Ouji, but as long as she remained faithful, it wasn't that bad, was it?

 

"Miss Briefs," the intercom buzzed, sending Mrs. Briggins' voice through, "You have a call on line one. Shall I patch it through?"

 

"I suppose," she sighed back to the secretary, really not in the mood to talk business with anyone.

 

"Bulma, babe!" Yamcha's voice burst through the phone as soon as she picked it up. "Right after work, I'll pick you up, and we'll go to a nice restaurant or something, just the two of us."

 

"Sorry Yamcha, I'm busy." She muttered, leafing through some of the papers strewn on her desk. "I promised Caleb I'd go see Bruce's show tonight." Yamcha was not exactly whom she wanted to see at that moment.

 

"Caleb can find someone else, can't he baby?" Yamcha pouted, making puppy eyes at the wall, as if Bulma were standing there with him.

 

"I…I promised Bruce too. He wants my opinion on his clothes," she lied quickly, "and he'll be really upset if I don't go." And I won't get to see Vegeta…her mind added, because there was no way she could say such a thing out loud.

 

"Bulma, I haven't seen you in a week now." He whined, and she sighed, almost caving at the pleading note in his voice.

 

"Yamcha, I have other plans. If you wanted to go out, you should have called me sooner. I'm sorry, but I can't just drop everything because you want to go to dinner." She sighed, pulling out the document she had been searching for.

 

"Oh…" he said, dejectedly. "I guess I'll talk to you later then."

 

"Yeah, bye." Tell him you want to break up. Tell him you never want to go out for dinner again, unless it's to meet his new girlfriend. Tell him it's not working out. Tell him you need something else, someone else.

 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her lips parting; completely prepared to utter the words that would end their ten-year romance for good. And the dial tone blared unfeelingly into her ear.

 

Hanging up the phone, she groaned aloud, irritated by her own indecisiveness, and wondering whether she should call him back. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention to the safety report on Capsule Corporation's latest endeavor, glancing up at the clock once every five minutes or so. In two hours, she could slip out of the office, race home, and still have another two hours to get ready.

 

 

Bruce devoured his stir-fried beef with an intensity that rivaled that of Vegeta, who was currently polishing off his fifth egg roll. The designer was famished, having run errands all morning long, and Vegeta, well he was just Saiyan.

 

"I looove Chinese takeout." Bruce cooed, popping a piece of broccoli into his mouth, wielding his chopsticks with expert skill. Several of the other models nodded, mumbling agreements around mouthfuls of noodles and rice. Vegeta didn't say anything, but just kept eating, much to the amazement of everyone but the Designer, who had shared a meal or two with the Saiyan before.

 

"Vegeta, I don't see how you stay so fit, eating all that food you do." Christian, another of the models, lamented, tossing his long blonde hair over his shoulder. Like most of Bruce's other models, he was tall and lean, kind of feminine in a mildly disturbing sense.

 

"Christian, he obviously works out. I mean, look at him! I wish I had that kind of self-discipline." Eikre laughed, poking his own muscled abdominal with one finger. He was another of the models, hired for much the same reason as Vegeta had been, but Eikre was taller, less toned, more like the guys they use for ladies' calendars. He had bragged to Vegeta about posing in the July issue of Playgirl, and even though Vegeta wasn't quite sure what that was, he figured it must have been something impressive, judging by Bruce's squeal of "Oh, I have that one!"

 

Vegeta didn't mind Eikre though, because he knew a little something about working out, and he wasn't snooty and stuck-up like Christian and most of the other models. He wasn't a vacuous idiot either, and the whole reason he was modeling was to put himself through University. "I'm gonna be an astronomer." He had said once, "I want to study the stars, the planets, the Universe." Vegeta liked that too, about Eikre, he knew a lot about Space, and having grown up out there, the Saiyan was rather fond of it. And curiously, in a rare moment of friendliness, Vegeta had once asked Eikre why he was content to look up from Earth, rather than go out and experience the Universe for himself. "Weak heart." He had patted his chest, with a sad little smile on his face. "They'd never let me up there." And the subject had dropped, just like that, but the two of them usually hung around each other during shows and photo shoots, each much preferring the company of the other in comparison with the other models. Actually, at first the Saiyan had been rather intent on keeping to himself, but the young, sociable human was unstoppable.

 

"Yeah, Vegeta here gets up early every morning and works himself to death in the park." Bruce chirped, slurping up some egg noodles. "But we can all see the benefits of that!"

 

"Yep, Mr. September here has sure earned his title." Eikre teased, bringing up the "Sexy Hunks Of All Seasons" calendar that they were both featured in.

 

"A little bit of jealousy, December?" Vegeta shot back, a cruel little smirk tugging at his features as he remembered the skimpy red Santa suit they had forced Eikre into. He had been lucky, being in September, all they had made him do was pose in a school uniform, open shirt, pants unbuttoned and hanging precariously low on his hips, with a few heavy textbooks under one arm.

 

"Oh, Vegeta, guess what!" Bruce cut in, "Caleb called me, and guess who he's bringing to the show tonight!" Vegeta looked at him curiously, one eyebrow raised, and before he could even take a guess, Bruce blurted out the answer. "BULMA!" He squealed, and continued on, oblivious to the Saiyan's sudden discomfort. "How long has it been since you've seen her? I haven't seen her in ages! Well, actually, it's probably more like a week, but she's such a sweetie, it just seems like years!"

 

"Ooh, who's Bulma?" Eikre chortled, nudging Vegeta in the ribs with his elbow. "I bet she's a real hottie."

 

"Bulma Briefs!" Bruce answered for his friend, and Eikre's eyes widened.

 

"You know Bulma Briefs?" he gasped, turning toward Vegeta. "You mean, Bulma Briefs, who helps design spaceships and shit? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

 

"They used to live together." The designer supplied, and Vegeta scowled, glaring down into his fried rice as he fought to control his temper. He definitely did not appreciate the way Bruce seemed to enjoy broadcasting his personal life out to the entire world. Eikre, he didn't mind so much, but the others, they'd pry and dig up any dirt they could find on him, out of jealousy at his recent rise to fame.

 

"Drop it." He growled darkly, using his chopsticks to shovel a bit of the rice into his mouth. And that was the end of that conversation, everyone lapsing into an awkward silence as they finished the last of their lunch. There were still important preparations that had to be made before that night, so everyone was quick to scurry off and complete their allotted tasks, including Vegeta and Eikre, who had been assigned to assist in helping the stage crew put things together.

 

"I wonder where Bridget is off to these days." Eikre sighed wistfully, looking around the large hall the show was to be held in. "I wonder if she's sick."

 

"She could be dead, for all I care." Vegeta snorted, hefting a heavy light stand with one arm. "In fact, I think I would enjoy that a great deal."

 

"Aww, come on, so she's a little too flirty for your liking. Just deflect her off to me." He laughed softly. "I'd love it if she gave me all that attention. Hell, she thinks my name is Eric."

 

"Trust me, even you can do much better than a whiny little thing like her."

 

Eikre laughed, moving to give Vegeta a hand with the stand, even though he didn't need it at all. When the lights were finally in place, they moved backstage, to help finish setting up the changing stalls.

 

 

 

Welp, there's another chapter done! Next time, we get to see Bulma and Vegeta meet for the first time in weeks, and we'll be getting into the movie soon enough! I know you guys wanted to see some B/V action in this chapter, but it was either cut it here or take way longer to get out…so I cut it. Sorry!!! Please don't be too mad!

Eikre- pronounced like ake-er. Or, I'm sure you all know how to pronounce the word acre, as in an acre of land. It's pronounced like that, at least that's how I think it is…

 

Mp3 of the Day: Alright, let's go with a Dragonball song today! "Hitorijanai" by Deen. It's from DBGT, and I think it might be one of the ending themes. I dunno, I really like this song, and you might too! Then again, you may not… but I'm willing to take that risk! *giggle*