Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Lesson In Humility ❯ Chapter 16 ( Chapter 16 )

Lesson in Humility

Chapter 16

 

He sat in a nearby park bench, watching her play on the monkey bars with some other children. The four year-old girl climbs up to the top, laughing with glee as she looked his direction, waving. He couldn't help but smile and wave back.

 

Bra stood on the top of those monkey bars as if she stood on top of the world; and Vegeta doted on her. From the very moment she was born Bra held a spell on her father. He spent more time with her than he did with Trunks in his younger years, carefully rearing the child to be a charming, sparkling individual that reflected his regal heritage. She even spoke his Saiyan language eloquently. Already living a privilege life; her world was simply complete with her loving father by her side. Even taking her to places like the public playground was even above Vegeta; but Bra insisted to mingle and enjoy every aspect of life; wanting to be like every other child. So Vegeta relented and took her, making sure to keep an attentive eye on her.

 

“Is she yours?” An elder woman asked as she sat down next to him. Vegeta scowled; not liking the woman's proximity or question.

 

“Yes, she is,” Vegeta replied in a clipped voice, never looking her direction. He crossed his arms like he always did; hoping that his stiff posture would tell her he wasn't keen on conversation.

 

“Oh, she is beautiful,” The woman continued, and Vegeta rolled his eyes. “I bet her mother is breathtaking.”

 

Never responding, Vegeta gazed at his daughter, feeling a mountain of emotions swell through him. Yes, after Trunks had proven himself to him he was proud. But he never felt as proud of something as he did with her. Bra was not only his creation-she was his masterpiece. It puzzled him how someone like himself who was so full of darkness and evil once could create something so perfect.

 

As Bra began to descend the bars, she lost her footing and began to fall backwards to the ground. Alarmed, Vegeta shot from his seat and flew over to her, his promise to Bulma forgotten to not fly in public. Just in a nick of time he captured her, her small body falling into his strong arms. He gazed down at her with her eyes closed tightly to brace herself for the hard fall. Bra then opened one eye, the blue iris sparking with moisture from her tears. She opened both eyes, jumping up to put her arms around her father's thick neck.

 

“Dadddddy!” Bra wailed, still a bit shaken as she held on to him as if her life depended on it.

 

“Shhh, hush little one,” Vegeta cooed as he lowered himself to the ground, ignoring the woman he was sitting next to who was now screaming bloody murder watching him fly. “You are unharmed. Let's go home now.”

 

“Okay,” Bra sniffed, still clinging to her father's neck. “Daddy?”

 

“Yes Princess.” Vegeta answered, patting her back softly.

 

“Don't ever let me go.” Bra told him, snuggling her face into the crook of his shoulder.

 

Vegeta only smiled, embracing her tighter as replied, “I won't Princess… I'll never let you go.”

 

Recalling that was the most significant and yet most ironic of his memories with her. Vegeta had felt powerless before; being overwhelmed by something so much that he could do nothing about it. But this feeling was much worse.

 

Bulma awoke to the feeling of the bed shifting, and she rubbed her eyes as she sat up to see her husband sitting on the edge, his back turned to her. He was deathly quiet; and for a moment it seemed like he wasn't breathing. Bulma gasped softly, in pity she wanted to reach out to him, but couldn't. It was terrible when Vegeta confronted Bra with what she had done.

 

He tried controlling himself at the table during dinner; but after watching Bra and Bulma converse in their simple façade to dupe him, he nearly turned the table over with his anger. He yelled, screamed, cursed… Bulma hadn't seen him this upset in years.

 

Then he started talking to Bra in his bizarre Saiyan tongue. They both bickered furiously to each other in that strange language for minutes until he spun around, facing his wife with malice in his eyes.

 

“This is your doing,” Vegeta screamed, his voice still thick with his foreign accent. “I told you years ago to destroy that damned book!”

 

“Vegeta I had no idea she would find it-“ Bulma began but was cut off by Vegeta waving his hand at her sharply, and then he pointed his index finger at her.

 

“You have caused enough trouble with your fucking research! I will hear no more from you,” He turned back around to Bra, pointing the same finger in her face. “And I will kill Goten, whether you're mated with him or not! You will not disgrace my family with that low-class idiot!”

 

“You won't,” Bra shook her head in denial, her fists balled up to her sides.

 

“Yes, I will,” Vegeta laughed drakly, shrugging like it was no big deal.

 

“Mother!” Bra whined, hoping she would come to her rescue.

 

“She's done quite enough, don't you agree?” Vegeta snarled, looking over his shoulder at Bulma.

 

Pouting, Bra wailed and ran up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door hard.

 

“You are disgusting Vegeta,” Bulma hissed, walking around to face her husband with cold eyes. “She's going to hate you for this, I hope you realize that.”

 

“Hate…” Vegeta sneered as he walked to the open balcony windows in the living room. “Yet another earthly emotion I still don't give a shit about!” He leapt off the terrace, into the dark night in search of the half-Saiyan. His mission: to end his life, as promised.

 

He remembered how she flew right up into the path of the battle. He remembered how she stretched her arms out in an attempt to stop him. But what shamed him, what made his gut twist with sadness and regret was her stare. It was cold, void of emotion… it was like looking at himself in the mirror, a mere reflection of hate.

 

Swallowing thickly, he spoke in almost a whisper. “She hates me.”

 

Bulma frowned, crawling down to the edge of the bed to him. “Did you kill him?” Bulma asked softly, trying hard to control the anxiety that was now creeping into her voice. He didn't give her an immediate response, so she feared the worse. As she reached out to touch his shoulder, he flinched.

 

“Don't touch me, please.” Vegeta managed to say, his voice cracking. Several moments passed before he spoke again. “I didn't kill him, if that's what you're so concerned about, woman.”

 

Bulma sighed, shaking her head with relief. She was glad that he started to sound like himself again. “She doesn't hate you, Vegeta. In all honesty if Bra never found that book she was still attracted to Goten. It was inevitable for them to be together… like you and me,” Bulma tried reaching out to him again, and was relieved that he let her hand lay on his shoulder. “Are you still mad with me?”

 

“I'm not sure,” Vegeta said, perplexed with how she was now rubbing his shoulders.

 

“Then can I try to make it up to you?” Bulma drawled out sexily, her mouth catching his salty earlobe. She felt Vegeta shiver; a small groan vibrating in his throat.

 

“You think sex is the answer to every problem?” Vegeta ground out lowly, his body already reacting to her ministrations.

 

“No, but make up sex is always the best with you,” Bulma purred, climbing into his lap. She noticed the small gash on his forehead, and reached up to touch it. ”You're bleeding, Vegeta. Do I need to get-“

 

“Hush woman, before you kill the moment.” Vegeta chuckled as he pulled her closer to his form, kissing her roughly.

 

*****

 

As Trunks walked through maze of cubicles that led to his office, he felt empowered. Today was a new day, a new start. When Marron stormed out of his condo last night; he decided that he would cast out all his bad, destructive habits too. He was a new man, wanting to be more responsible, wanting more than just a physical attachment. What he wanted now, was merely an arm stretch away.

 

Pan.

 

He walked up to his receptionist's desk, reaching over and picking up his mail and phone messages. Andrea's crossed her legs, making sure he saw her skirt hike up an inch. Leaning forward on her desk, like she always did to entice him with her cleavage, Andrea batted her eyes.

 

“Good morning Mr. Briefs.” Andrea rolled off sexily with her accent.

 

Never looking her direction, Trunks continued to shift through his mail. “Morning Andrea.” He turned on his heel glancing over at the empty desk across from Andrea's. “Where is Pan?”

 

“She will be in at nine o'clock, that's her schedule sir,” Andrea informed him, disappointed he didn't look her way. “Mr. Briefs… remember when I told you about the tattoo I got…?”

 

Trunks took in a deep breath, turning around to face the buxom female. “Andrea… as intriguing that topic may be; I'm afraid it's not appropriate business conversation. I'm not going to engage nor encourage any of that behavior from you anymore. Is that understood?”

 

In total shock, Andrea nodded, gulping as she noted his cold but very serious stare. She sat upright, squaring her shoulders as she began pulling her morning diagnosis report up on her computer. “Yes sir.”

 

“Good,” Trunks said he turned back around, heading towards his office. “I want you to run out to Starbucks, get me one Grande black bold flavored, and I want that diagnosis report on my desk by ten. It's time you earned your keep and did your job for a change.”

 

Before Andrea could say another word, he stepped inside his office, quickly shutting door. All Andrea could do was mutter some very explicit French words under her breath as she typed away on her keyboard.

 

*****

 

Knocking sharply on the wooden door, Pan didn't wait for her boss to tell her to enter as she opened it, poking only her head inside. “You needed to see me, sir?”

 

A small chill ran up his spine when she called him sir. Glancing up from his paperwork, a small smirk formed on the end of his mouth as he rocked back into his leather chair.

 

“Yes, Pan. Come in.” Trunks ordered her briskly, wiping the smile off his face as he watched her nervously walk inside, shutting the door behind her quietly. His eyes raked over her body as she approached his desk; panning up from her short black pumps, her long legs that were covered with sheer white nylons, to her unusually short black shirt that rode up as she walked, exposing her thighs very nicely. His eyes then fell onto the simple white blouse she wore; a few buttons undone to reveal her small but sexy cleavage. He bit the inside of his lip when he saw a small flash of her blue bra.

 

Sitting down, Pan let out an exasperated sigh. “Is it me or is Andrea in a bad mood today?”

 

“She just got put in her place today, she'll recover,” Trunks said in low tone, his eyes still fastened to Pan's blouse. “I wanted to commend you for the Rickers report you put together today… I was quite impressed.” He smiled warmly as he eyes drifted back to her lovely face.

 

Blushing, Pan gushed out a small chortle. “Why, thank you sir… it really wasn't a big deal.”

 

“I'm serious Pan,” Trunks said in much lighter tone, sounding more like himself when he wasn't working. “You have a brilliant mind. So I figured, what better way to celebrate than taking you out for dinner?”

 

Pan eyes lit up, and she tilted her head to one side. “So you're actually going to take me out, huh?”

 

“Of course I am,” Trunks said with a shrug. “Why wouldn't I?”

 

“Wouldn't Marron be upset if you took me out?” Pan asked, quirking up one eyebrow.

 

Trunks clenched his jaw with the mere mention of the woman's name, and Pan noticed how it took him a moment to respond. “Marron is not my problem anymore, Pan. I have better interests in mind.”

 

Pan's heart fluttered against her chest, the sudden heat rushing up to her face as she looked into his sparkling blue eyes. Could he possible mean…? “What interests with whom, sir?”

 

Standing up from his desk, He slowly walked around to her, leaning on the desk's edge, folding his arms in front of him. His stare was much different than before; it was darker, deeper… almost possessive. The air seemed to jump with electricity as they both gazed at each other intensely. Pan's palms began to tingle as sweat began to form in them, and she shifted her seat anxiously.

 

He looked so sexy, just leaning there on his desk, his dark grey suit fitting him in all the right places, making his already bulging arms insinuated in them. She gulped as he leaned forward, his face only inches from hers. She saw how his nostrils flared, and a small noise rose from his throat; obviously liking her feminine scent. He smirked, straitening back up as his arms dropped to his side. Her eyes were fixed on him and Trunks like it. He liked it a lot.

 

“You'll see,” Trunks finally told her, walking back around to his seat behind his desk. “So we'll leave here from work tonight, and we'll go to my favorite spot in town… and then I'll let you know who that person of interest is, okay?”

 

“S-sure,” Pan muttered, standing up from the chair and numbly walking to his office door. She couldn't remember even leaving out of his office as she sat down at her desk, and she sighed fretfully. Finally, Pan thought to herself as she let out a giggle, and Andrea looked over at her like she'd grown a second head on her shoulders. Finally you have a chance.

 

::To be Continued::