Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Doubts ❯ Prisoner of War ( Chapter 2 )

Doubts Chapter 2

The hot spray of water from the showerhead did nothing to lessen the nagging guilt at the back of Bulma's mind. Her last comment to the Saiyan had been a bit harsh, even for the usual insult slinging they still occupied themselves with. It became a firm resolution within her mind that she would go and apologize for it, as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom. Vegeta may never be the openly friendly father that Goku was, but he did care for Trunks and Bra in his own way.

With a twist of her slender wrist, Bulma shut off the onslaught of water from above. It died to a trickle in the faucet, allowing her to safely step out of the bathtub without getting any on the cool, ceramic tile of the bathroom floor. She dried herself off with a white towel, and then wrapped it skillfully around her wet locks, securing it in place before slipping into a fuzzy robe she kept hanging by the door. With a tightening of the sash, she opened the barrier between herself and the outer hallway, which in turn allowed the steam to drift free of the enclosed bathroom. Again, she found the hallway completely dark. What was going on, here?

"Kids?" she ventured, stepping forward. Just down the long stretch of hallway she could see a faint white line from underneath Bra's bedroom door, which gave her a hint as to the location of her daughter. Padding barefoot over to the glimpse of light, she knocked softly on the wood panel to the door. "Bra? You in there?"

"Yeah, Mommy." The sound of a doorknob twisting clumsily reached her ears just as the young girl on the other side swung the door ajar.

Bulma peered into her daughter's room, as if searching for something or someone. "Is Trunks home yet?"

Bra shook her head firmly, piping up to give up the relevant information. "Nah. I forgot to tell you... he called and said he was sleeping over at Goten's house."

A trailing sigh came from the hallway, escaping from the older woman's half-parted lips. "Fine. Make sure to tell me next time in advance, ok?"

"Kay."

"Goodnight Bra."

"Night Mommy."

Bulma closed the door to Bra's bedroom; effectively shutting off any further conversation that might be taken up with her daughter. Sauntering wearily down to the end of the hallway, she reached her bedroom. Unlike Bra's room, there wasn't even any obvious evidence that someone had recently occupied it. Pushing aside the door, she slipped inside and closed it after her. Her fingers fumbled for the light switch, much as they had done in the kitchen. At first contact with the knob, she flicked it upwards and flooded the area with light. The bed was neatly made, giving the impression that no one had been in the proximity since that morning. Where was Vegeta? The thought plagued her as she strode over to the lamp on her nightstand. Turning it on, she made a return trip to the light switch near the door, which she abruptly turned off. The room was much dimmer now, but at least it was at a level that Bulma enjoyed a good book in. The aqua-haired woman swept aside the thick covers to her bed, before settling in for the night. She had a dog-eared book that she had started reading nearly three weeks prior awaiting her on her nightstand, and she eagerly picked it up to begin reading where she last left off.

As the night wore on and no sign of Vegeta had yet to surface, Bulma felt her eyelids begin to droop. She could barely stay awake any longer, and even the printed text across the pages of her novel were beginning to run together. It had been a long time indeed since she could last recall a time when she didn't have a clue as to Vegeta's whereabouts. That didn't mean she didn't have an inkling, however. If instinct served her right, the stubborn Saiyan was out in the Gravity Room, training away. Her worry became so great that it temporarily overrode the exhaustion she felt. Making sure to mark the spot she left off in her book, the woman threw aside her covers and set her feet on the soft carpeting at the base of the bed. The book was discarded on the nightstand, just as it had been last night when it's owner became drowsy. The way in which it was done was a bit different this time around, as Bulma's growing irritation at Vegeta's failed attendance to their bedroom caused the item to be nearly dropped into place. A wave of unease settled upon her shoulders as she made her way to the Gravity Room in her robe.

When Bulma reached the training simulator, she could easily glean the fact that someone was inside. There were sounds emitting from within it, familiar ones that could be heard daily. She had found Vegeta. Punching in a new access code that she had created especially for the room, she entered without even a warning as the gravity dropped to normal.

"Vegeta, just what do you think you are doing?!" Bulma stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

At first, the sound of a crash was her only reply as the Saiyan nearly hit the roof of the Gravity Room. He had been pushing his normal limit, straining himself upward against the overbearing, opposing force when the woman had entered, reducing all that gravity to a simple level. It had taken him by surprise, and at the moment he was nearly peeling his face off the ceiling. "WOMAN!" He thundered.

Bulma couldn't help but to smirk. "Serves you right. You didn't even have the decency to tell me you would be here this late."

Gathering up his wounded dignity, Vegeta floated down several notches, until his feet touched the ground. He crossed his arms against his chest as he usually did when he got defensive, and right about then he looked ready to kill. "You could have at least warned me before you did that. What right do you have, coming in here anyway?"

Bulma stomped one foot, her fists balling at her sides. The nerve of that man! "Need I remind you who owns and repairs this chamber? Without me you wouldn't even have a place to train, much less live!"

The reminder did nothing to phase him. He smirked haughtily in his usual fashion, nearly sneering back at her. "...And need I remind you what I could do..."

He didn't get far on that one. Bulma held up one hand, palm up and facing him before she cut him off. "Spare me the lecture. You aren't going to blast me one and we both know it. Why do you even waste your time with that?"

Vegeta growled at being interrupted, while his forehead creased at intersection of his dark eyebrows. She had him there. "Idiot woman. If you believe I am wasting your time, then I suggest you leave." He seemed to ponder it a moment, and then authoritively restated his advice a second time, "No, I request it."

His words stung, just as they often did long before Trunks was even born and they were getting to know each other. She was so caught up in her pain and fury at his gall, that she didn't notice a small, six-year-old child standing behind her clutching a teddy bear. "Fine, your royal highn-ass. I'd be more than glad to, if you are going to be like that!"

A small whimper caught both of their attention as a diminutive form began to back away from the quarrel observed between both of her parents. Bra had been unable to sleep that night, plagued by worries of repeating another comb-in-the-hair situation, and so it was with much curiosity that she had heard her mother open the door to the bedroom she and her father shared. Making sure to keep absolutely quiet, the child had followed after her mother, careful in her footfalls. With eyes as wide as saucers, she had witnessed their falling out. She didn't completely understand the emphasis on words that they used, but she could discern anger and bitterness when she heard it.

Bulma whirled, shocked. She spared a stricken look over to Vegeta for only a second, before kneeling down to reach out to her daughter. "Oh, sweetie, why aren't you in bed?? You shouldn't have seen that..."

Vegeta looked disgruntled, but otherwise remained silent as he took a few tentative steps towards Bra in apprehension.

Tears spiked the girl's eyelashes as she turned from them both, pivoting hastily around and running from the very spot, crying in muffled tones as she went.

Bulma hissed through clenched teeth as she turned on Vegeta. "This is all your doing. I hope you are proud of yourself." Before he had time to get something in, she was gone, racing after Bra.

Within the Gravity Room, the almighty Prince of Saiyans felt his stomach drop. As much as he hated to admit it, something in him wanted to go after the two and make amends. Even though the compulsion was heavy, his pride still outweighed it by a marginal fraction. Cursing a string of slander that would make even a seasoned seaman blush, Vegeta nearly decimated a keypad nearby as he plugged in the numbers to make the gravity rise higher than the oppressive level he had had it at earlier. He'd leave Bra to Bulma, as he reasoned that she would have more of an effect on the girl than he ever would. There wasn't much time to reason, however, because the effect of the crushing gravity thankfully brought his mind back to training... and train he did, more fiercely than before.

-AN: Yay! Ch. 3 coming soon.