Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dangerous Bond ❯ Soon to be over ( Chapter 2 )

by SilverstarBlooddragon

Disclaimer: I... Don't... Own... DBZ, ya? Dankechen.

Vegeta woke up to the sound of feet behind him.

"Hey, Veg-head. You didn't sleep out here, did you?" The annoying onna asked.

Vegeta grunted, "What's it to you?"

He winced as he stood up properly from the rail of his balcony. Yes, it indeed looked like he'd somehow managed to fall asleep standing here, if the red pressure marks on his outer forearm were anything to go on. The wounded arm felt as if it were on fire and his body ached from a night standing up in cold air but he ignored it. There was no way she was going to know how much he hurt right now.

"You could catch pneumonia out here, that's all." She replied, ignoring his normal rudeness. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the marks on his arm. "Don't try to tell me that doesn't hurt." She said, prodding one of the red welts with a tentative finger.

Vegeta pulled away from her, crossing his arms and hurumphing before he re- entered his room. Bulma rolled her eyes.

Jerk.

Her evening with Yamcha had been even better than expected. They'd had dinner at a really nice restaurant in the centre of town, then went to see a romantic movie. Amazingly, they'd managed to get back row seats and barely paid attention to the flickering screen, each other's lips far more interesting. The pair had come back late and he'd carried her up the stairs, Bulma being too drunk to do it herself. After a quick kiss on the lips he'd left her, for once not trying to push her to do something she'd regret.

For once...

As well as the night before had went, Bulma was sure that her relationship with Yamcha was reaching its end. Then was something... different... when they had kissed, like it wasn't right, or something. Yamcha never said he loved her anymore. He'd kiss her, hug her, take her on dates... But there was something missing. She didn't get it. She loved him, but she no-longer felt like she trusted the man. The idea of something that had been going on since she was sixteen ending scared Bulma. It was that fact and that fact only that stopped her from dumping him on the spot, apart from his feelings. She didn't want to be alone. So she decided to ride out the last wave and only finally let go when she was sure that he wasn't the one for her...

Vegeta stepped under the hot water of the shower head, the almost scalding hot fluid making him feel better as it pounded his surprisingly soft skin. As always, that woman had him thinking. She hadn't looked... right. The prince turned his face up into the stream of water, unflinching as it got in his eyes and blurred his vision.
Why should he, the Saiya-jin no Ouji, care what was going on with her? Of course, Vegeta found a strange kind of sport in watching what these pathetic creatures wasted their pitiful lives doing, but actually caring was a new one. He shook himself. Vegeta DID NOT care. He was just... interested. Slightly.
It probably had something to do with that mate of hers, the moron man who Vegeta had seen on numerous occasions with other females. He frowned, then shut his eyes tight as the water hurt for the first time. Cursing the water, Vegeta-Ouji wondered to himself for the five-millionth time exactly why the stupid creature persisted in hunting out others when he already had what the prince considered to be the only half-decent woman on the planet in his grip. Shouldn't he be pleased in the fact that she was so attached to him?

The prince shut off the shower and his brain. After toweling himself dry and dressing once again he left the bathroom and went downstairs.

"Onna!" He bellowed, "Where are you?!"

Bulma appeared from the patio door. "What?!" She demanded as she stalked over, hands on hips.

"I'm hungry. Get me some food." His stomach growled its agreement, he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday and was beginning to feel slightly faint.

Bulma scowled at him but, seeming to realize that Vegeta really wasn't in the mood to argue (more likely to blow her head off if she complained), went over to the fridge to get him some grub. Her eyes nearly started out of her head when she saw the completely full compartment.

He... Didn't eat?

She glanced up in concern at Vegeta, currently seating himself at the table.

"Hey, Geta." She called, "Are you feeling okay? Only I didn't think you could live without eating once every three hours..."

He glared at her, but weakness due to the revelation of FORGETTING TO EAT marred the effect somewhat. The prince was beginning to go pale with lack of nourishment.

And it's only been a day...

"Whatever." Pulling large amounts of food from the fridge and cupboard, Bulma began to cook.

It took two hours to make enough food to keep Vegeta happy, but it only took five minutes before he had gulped it all down with an un-princely lack of manners. Normally he'd at least use his knife and fork... Once he was done the Saiya-jin was beginning to feel like himself again, a mixed blessing to Bulma.
As soon as she realized that he was feeling better all traces of former sympathy left her perfect face.

"Alright mister. That's two hours of my day gone now, thanks to you. And did you say please? Did you heck. Did you say thank you? Never heard of the words. And am I willing to do that again? NOT ON YOUR LIFE!"

Vegeta smirked. "That's too bad for you. I eat three times a day, if you've failed to notice, YOU are my cook. Now, that stupid machine of yours is broken. Fix it so I can get back to training."

"Why should I?! I'm not your slave!"

"Need I remind you about the androids? I'm sure they'd like to do some work on your precious machines. Just not constructive work..."

Bulma glared at him.

Stupid jerk. Why should I do anything for him? He doesn't deserve any of what he has. He can just go sit in a hole in a desert and get killed by a snake or something...

Three hours later she sat back from her work, wiping oil from her forehead.

Why the fuck do I do this? He doesn't need to train that much, Goku'll beat the androids with one hand behind his back...

But still, she had fixed the GR and now Vegeta could get back to his training.

It wasn't so bad before we heard about the androids, She thought to herself as she went back into the house, He didn't bother me, I didn't bother him. None of this, 'make me some food' or 'fix the GR'. I actually almost liked him back then...

Vegeta brushed past her in the hallway, making his way to the GR to train.

I will be a Super Saiya-jin! He promised himself, No third-class imbecile can be stronger than me!

The prince turned the gravity up to 400x that of Chikyuusei and began to train, throwing ki wave blasts at the robot drones Dr. Briefs had provided him with. Soon the attack was moving with blinding speed and Vegeta was straining to keep up.
His corded muscled rippled under his skin as he shot back and forth, senses screaming at him to stop, he was going to far. Vegeta ignored his instincts and kept going, pushing himself to the limits. Nearly four hours later something in him snapped and the super speed blast slammed into his unprotected chest, sending him hurtling to the ground. The second blast smashed into his leg before exploding, sending the drones hurtling backwards. The walls of the GR barely took the pressure.

Vegeta staggered out of the GR, cursing up a storm in Saiya-jin language. Bulma looked up from her work at the dining table just in time to see the Saiya-jin no Ouji's backside as he stuck his head into the fridge in search of supplement. One hand held a huge wad of gauze to his leg, the other was currently helping itself to the product of Bulma's shopping spree.

'Stupid Saiya-jin! She thought angrily to herself, then noticed the blood sliding down his leg from under the gauze. What's he done to himself this time? Hmph, as if I care...

Satisfied that the small army rations he held in his arms would probably stop his ravenous hunger, Vegeta left the fridge and sat across from Bulma to eat. She looked up and saw the movement of his eyes as the prince looked away, ignoring his curiosity in favour of his pride.

"Aren't you going to ask what I'm making if you're so interested?" Bulma challenged, refusing to let his pride be.

Vegeta's dangerous black eyes caught her gaze. "What gives you the idea that I'm interested in your pitiful work, onna?"

"You were watching me."

The prince gave her a death stare but returned to his meal, not actually denying what she had said. Bulma decided not to waste time and effort continuing the possible argument and got back to her project.
But her mind kept straying to the walking, insulting enigma that sat across from her. Bulma was a stubborn woman and she wanted to understand him. To her he was just a puzzle, waiting to be figured out. As Vegeta destroyed the last apple in the house Bulma looked up at him again. He no-longer really scared her, but if she wanted answers she knew she'd have to be careful...