077. What?
Title: Snuggling and Warriors
Fandom: Dragonball Z
Pairing: BulmaxVegeta
Prompt: 077. What?
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2205
Summary: Sometimes all you need is someone to listen to you... and give you a bottle of wine.
It was well past midnight and Bulma had just got off the phone. Her eyes were red from rubbing them and her mascara had run all down her face from crying. She had been talking to Yamcha for hours, trying to work out their issues but she realized it just wasn't going to happen. They were friends, good friends, friends with benefits... but just not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. There was a time when she had imagined herself marrying him, but those times were fleeting. It wasn't in the cards right now, anyway. The androids would be arriving in a few short years and it would be just terrible to get married and have the chance of becoming a widow in a short time anyway. Plus, there were bigger issues on the table besides the androids (at least pertaining to their relationship).
What she wanted now was ice cream. Ice cream could fix anything. As a matter of fact, she had a pint of cookie dough ice cream in the fridge. It's almost as if she had anticipated the break up when she had been shopping earlier. Now it was yelling, screaming for her. It would be rude to object its callings.
She emerged from the kitchen with a pint of ice cream in her hands and a spoon in her mouth as she pried the container apart. "You're awake," stated a voice in the darkness and she dropped the spoon in surprise, which would have been better than swallowing it.
"What the hell! You nearly scared me to death!" Bulma scolded, feeling around for the spoon in the dark living room. "Why are you just sitting here in the dark anyway? Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?"
Vegeta crouched down in the darkness beside her, his fingers barely brushing over hers on the cold tile. "That wasn't my intent," Vegeta said, finding the spoon before her and lightly tapping her nose with it before standing. "Now that you mention it, however, it seems like a great bonus."
Bulma stood, snatching the spoon from him and huffing. "You wouldn't know what to do without me. You wouldn't have anyone around to provide you with as much entertainment as I do."
"It would be a lot quieter around here for a while but I think I could manage. I have spent many of my years completely isolated," he remarked as he turned the lights on. Now incredibly self conscious, Bulma turned and headed straight back for the kitchen so he couldn't see just how much of a mess she was. After all, she hadn't thought that she would run into anyone at such a late hour. Usually even Vegeta was asleep by now. She just wanted her ice cream and a sappy movie so she could just cry about being single for the first time in years. Now she was standing at the sink in the kitchen, frantically trying to reduce the redness and puffiness on her face because of Vegeta. She wasn't sure exactly why she was caring but she did. Perhaps it was because she didn't want him to make any snide comments about how she was puffed up like a sea creature or because she didn't want him asking stupid questions about why she was all red or whatnot. Vegeta rarely, if ever, asked stupid questions, though. She heard his footsteps on the kitchen tile before they stopped.
"You had a fight with your mate," he stated. She turned to see him leaning casually in the doorframe, his arms crossed as usual.
She shook her head. "He isn't my mate. He never was and he never will be. Yamcha was my boyfriend... until this evening."
Vegeta was silent for a moment though she could feel his eyes linger on her. She kept her eyes focused on the sink and tried to fight the awkward feeling that was now hanging so heavily in the room. Vegeta cleared his throat. "You really don't need ice cream. In your over-emotional state, you will eat the entire thing and it'll give you a stomachache."
Bulma sniffed. "I don't know why you would care. You should just let me wallow in my self-pity for a little while."
"Sure, wallow away," he said plainly but walked past her to the pantry. Curiously, she inched toward the door but didn't make it quite there before he emerged with two bottles of wine. "Take this. You look terrible, by the way."
Bulma sighed. She would suspect an imposter if Vegeta didn't insult her in this moment. She followed him back into the living room and took the opposite side of the couch he sat down on. He opened his bottle easily with a corkscrew and handed it to Bulma, who struggled. After observing her for a moment, he silently held out his hand and she gave him the bottle and opener. Any other day she could open a wine bottle faster than she could pronounce the name of the wine but the emotional stress had her understandably distracted. He handed her the opened bottle of Zinfandel as he took a large swig of his own. She wasn't actually a fan of Zinfandel, but because Vegeta had taken a step to reach out to her in a sense, she wasn't about to refuse it. In a strange way she had harbored feelings for him for a long while, even before they received word from the purple-haired kid from the future. She had been attracted to him, not necessarily in love but in lust and curiosity. He wasn't as tall as Yamcha or caring like her ex was, but he was intelligent, powerful, and good looking to boot. He had a natural exotic scent that attracted her and even when he was drenched in sweat from locking himself in the gravity capsule for days on end she wasn't turned away from his scent. She had read something in a medical textbook years ago about pheromones and body chemistry; it must be related to that.
Vegeta coughed and Bulma's thoughts returned to the room. In the time that she had been staring idly at the carpet, lost in thought, the saiyan had downed half of his bottle. He said to her, "Drink up."
Bulma re-situated herself on the couch so she could more easily talk to Vegeta face to face, not that he would necessarily turn to talk to her. They had learned to talk over the year they had been living together even if their actual conversations were few and far between. She took a large gulp of the wine before attempting to say anything. "Vegeta?" she begun and he turned his head to look at her. "Do you feel lonely here on Earth?"
There was a small pause before he responded, "I have far more important things to worry about now. I have my training to focus on."
"No, seriously. I know your entire race was destroyed and I can't even imagine how tough that must be. That would be like if Earth blew up and I was sent to your planet," Bulma said.
"You would die immediately," he said quickly. "The gravity would crush you."
Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed. "What I meant is that you would expect me to feel somewhat alone. I feel alone right now... I don't want you to feel alone too."
"How can you feel alone?" Vegeta asked pointedly. "As you can see, I am sitting here on the same couch as you. Your parents are upstairs. There are plenty of beings around you. It is silly for you to be upset about freeing yourself of that loser."
Bulma sniffed. These were probably the nicest accidental comfort words Vegeta had ever given her. Every once in a while he would say something that surprised her, even if he didn't think he was doing her any good. She scooted up close to him and set her head on his shoulder. Immediately he tensed up, but didn't push her away. "Thanks, Vegeta. I really appreciate having you around."
"Yeah, well..." he began, mumbling, but didn't continue. She wrapped her arms around one of his large, muscular biceps and snuggled even closer in to him. He remained incredibly rigid but still didn't move away. He finally said, "What are you doing?"
A little bit startled, Bulma wasn't sure exactly what to say. It wasn't often that the outspoken scientist was trapped into a corner but it did happen. "Must be the wine."
He looked at her bottle and she had hardly made a dent out of it. "I didn't know you were such a lightweight."
"Don't you like snuggling, Vegeta?" she asked, now pretending she was drunk, perhaps to have an excuse for letting her inner feelings out. "Have you ever snuggled with anyone before?"
Vegeta downed the rest of his bottle as he began to sense danger. "Warriors don't snuggle or cuddle or do any of that nonsensical stuff. It's a sign of weakness."
"See? You and I both have skewed visions of stuff." Now she was beginning to wonder if she really was drunk off less than a glass of wine. "I think that being alone makes me weak and you think that snuggling makes you weak. Isn't that silly?"
Vegeta looked at her like she had just sprouted a hundred tiny green tentacles all over her face. "I don't think... what is wrong with you?"
Bulma let go of Vegeta and sunk back into the couch with her bottle of wine. One swig into the bottle and she started to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm such a mess over this whole breakup thing. I wish I could say it was my idea but it wasn't. Yamcha found someone else and he thinks that I have too."
Perhaps the biggest reason Yamcha wanted to break up was because he thought she had feelings for Vegeta. The girl he was "with" was really just a friend with benefits. He didn't care about her and he let her know but he said he noticed the way Bulma looked at Vegeta. She hadn't ever looked at Yamcha that way and he knew it. It wasn't a lie. Bulma knew she was attracted to Vegeta in some way, even if he treated her terribly. She had imagined things would have progressed farther with Yamcha; she had wanted at some point to get married and have a family. He wasn't ready to settle down, though, and he may not ever be. The fight she had with herself when she allowed her mind to wander to those forbidden fantasies with the Prince was that he definitely wouldn't want to settle down. That was the thought that kept her in her place. Now that Yamcha was out of the picture she didn't care what he wanted... as was apparent by her activity just now.
The fight that Vegeta was dealing with now was what to do about the emotional female sitting next to him on the couch. All of the women he had dealt with in space had either been warriors from other planets that Frieza had controlled or had been on planets he had annihilated. He had been raised by his mother up until she died giving birth to his younger brother but at such a young age he couldn't even really remember what she looked like. Needless to say, he had never dealt with a woman in this situation. She was no warrior and she wasn't his mother; it was a shame she didn't come with some sort of an instruction manual. Apparently she liked when he talked to her or even just listened to her... why did he care? Warriors are not psychiatric doctors. They are not responsible for comforting Earth women.
With great difficulty, he reached out a hand and set it on her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, wiping at her eyes. He was offering her a silent invitation that she took. She scooted up close to him and wrapped her arms around his strong core. He rested his arm on her still hesitantly, still thinking this snuggling this was far beneath him but she did feel very nice tucked away next to him. Some moments passed in perfect silence before her breathing became heavy. As the wine really began to hit his bloodstream his lids became too heavy to hold up and he leaned his head against the back of the couch. Whatever... he thought.
The next morning when Mrs. Brief passed through the living room to make breakfast she saw the two still slumbering on the couch. She squealed before quickly covering her mouth and dashed off to get her camera. Once she had it, she snapped a quick picture and quietly left the room. Only she would know that she had the picture... at least until she accidentally let it slip to Bulma and that picture joined the others on her headboard.
Fandom: Dragonball Z
Pairing: BulmaxVegeta
Prompt: 077. What?
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2205
Summary: Sometimes all you need is someone to listen to you... and give you a bottle of wine.
It was well past midnight and Bulma had just got off the phone. Her eyes were red from rubbing them and her mascara had run all down her face from crying. She had been talking to Yamcha for hours, trying to work out their issues but she realized it just wasn't going to happen. They were friends, good friends, friends with benefits... but just not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. There was a time when she had imagined herself marrying him, but those times were fleeting. It wasn't in the cards right now, anyway. The androids would be arriving in a few short years and it would be just terrible to get married and have the chance of becoming a widow in a short time anyway. Plus, there were bigger issues on the table besides the androids (at least pertaining to their relationship).
What she wanted now was ice cream. Ice cream could fix anything. As a matter of fact, she had a pint of cookie dough ice cream in the fridge. It's almost as if she had anticipated the break up when she had been shopping earlier. Now it was yelling, screaming for her. It would be rude to object its callings.
She emerged from the kitchen with a pint of ice cream in her hands and a spoon in her mouth as she pried the container apart. "You're awake," stated a voice in the darkness and she dropped the spoon in surprise, which would have been better than swallowing it.
"What the hell! You nearly scared me to death!" Bulma scolded, feeling around for the spoon in the dark living room. "Why are you just sitting here in the dark anyway? Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?"
Vegeta crouched down in the darkness beside her, his fingers barely brushing over hers on the cold tile. "That wasn't my intent," Vegeta said, finding the spoon before her and lightly tapping her nose with it before standing. "Now that you mention it, however, it seems like a great bonus."
Bulma stood, snatching the spoon from him and huffing. "You wouldn't know what to do without me. You wouldn't have anyone around to provide you with as much entertainment as I do."
"It would be a lot quieter around here for a while but I think I could manage. I have spent many of my years completely isolated," he remarked as he turned the lights on. Now incredibly self conscious, Bulma turned and headed straight back for the kitchen so he couldn't see just how much of a mess she was. After all, she hadn't thought that she would run into anyone at such a late hour. Usually even Vegeta was asleep by now. She just wanted her ice cream and a sappy movie so she could just cry about being single for the first time in years. Now she was standing at the sink in the kitchen, frantically trying to reduce the redness and puffiness on her face because of Vegeta. She wasn't sure exactly why she was caring but she did. Perhaps it was because she didn't want him to make any snide comments about how she was puffed up like a sea creature or because she didn't want him asking stupid questions about why she was all red or whatnot. Vegeta rarely, if ever, asked stupid questions, though. She heard his footsteps on the kitchen tile before they stopped.
"You had a fight with your mate," he stated. She turned to see him leaning casually in the doorframe, his arms crossed as usual.
She shook her head. "He isn't my mate. He never was and he never will be. Yamcha was my boyfriend... until this evening."
Vegeta was silent for a moment though she could feel his eyes linger on her. She kept her eyes focused on the sink and tried to fight the awkward feeling that was now hanging so heavily in the room. Vegeta cleared his throat. "You really don't need ice cream. In your over-emotional state, you will eat the entire thing and it'll give you a stomachache."
Bulma sniffed. "I don't know why you would care. You should just let me wallow in my self-pity for a little while."
"Sure, wallow away," he said plainly but walked past her to the pantry. Curiously, she inched toward the door but didn't make it quite there before he emerged with two bottles of wine. "Take this. You look terrible, by the way."
Bulma sighed. She would suspect an imposter if Vegeta didn't insult her in this moment. She followed him back into the living room and took the opposite side of the couch he sat down on. He opened his bottle easily with a corkscrew and handed it to Bulma, who struggled. After observing her for a moment, he silently held out his hand and she gave him the bottle and opener. Any other day she could open a wine bottle faster than she could pronounce the name of the wine but the emotional stress had her understandably distracted. He handed her the opened bottle of Zinfandel as he took a large swig of his own. She wasn't actually a fan of Zinfandel, but because Vegeta had taken a step to reach out to her in a sense, she wasn't about to refuse it. In a strange way she had harbored feelings for him for a long while, even before they received word from the purple-haired kid from the future. She had been attracted to him, not necessarily in love but in lust and curiosity. He wasn't as tall as Yamcha or caring like her ex was, but he was intelligent, powerful, and good looking to boot. He had a natural exotic scent that attracted her and even when he was drenched in sweat from locking himself in the gravity capsule for days on end she wasn't turned away from his scent. She had read something in a medical textbook years ago about pheromones and body chemistry; it must be related to that.
Vegeta coughed and Bulma's thoughts returned to the room. In the time that she had been staring idly at the carpet, lost in thought, the saiyan had downed half of his bottle. He said to her, "Drink up."
Bulma re-situated herself on the couch so she could more easily talk to Vegeta face to face, not that he would necessarily turn to talk to her. They had learned to talk over the year they had been living together even if their actual conversations were few and far between. She took a large gulp of the wine before attempting to say anything. "Vegeta?" she begun and he turned his head to look at her. "Do you feel lonely here on Earth?"
There was a small pause before he responded, "I have far more important things to worry about now. I have my training to focus on."
"No, seriously. I know your entire race was destroyed and I can't even imagine how tough that must be. That would be like if Earth blew up and I was sent to your planet," Bulma said.
"You would die immediately," he said quickly. "The gravity would crush you."
Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed. "What I meant is that you would expect me to feel somewhat alone. I feel alone right now... I don't want you to feel alone too."
"How can you feel alone?" Vegeta asked pointedly. "As you can see, I am sitting here on the same couch as you. Your parents are upstairs. There are plenty of beings around you. It is silly for you to be upset about freeing yourself of that loser."
Bulma sniffed. These were probably the nicest accidental comfort words Vegeta had ever given her. Every once in a while he would say something that surprised her, even if he didn't think he was doing her any good. She scooted up close to him and set her head on his shoulder. Immediately he tensed up, but didn't push her away. "Thanks, Vegeta. I really appreciate having you around."
"Yeah, well..." he began, mumbling, but didn't continue. She wrapped her arms around one of his large, muscular biceps and snuggled even closer in to him. He remained incredibly rigid but still didn't move away. He finally said, "What are you doing?"
A little bit startled, Bulma wasn't sure exactly what to say. It wasn't often that the outspoken scientist was trapped into a corner but it did happen. "Must be the wine."
He looked at her bottle and she had hardly made a dent out of it. "I didn't know you were such a lightweight."
"Don't you like snuggling, Vegeta?" she asked, now pretending she was drunk, perhaps to have an excuse for letting her inner feelings out. "Have you ever snuggled with anyone before?"
Vegeta downed the rest of his bottle as he began to sense danger. "Warriors don't snuggle or cuddle or do any of that nonsensical stuff. It's a sign of weakness."
"See? You and I both have skewed visions of stuff." Now she was beginning to wonder if she really was drunk off less than a glass of wine. "I think that being alone makes me weak and you think that snuggling makes you weak. Isn't that silly?"
Vegeta looked at her like she had just sprouted a hundred tiny green tentacles all over her face. "I don't think... what is wrong with you?"
Bulma let go of Vegeta and sunk back into the couch with her bottle of wine. One swig into the bottle and she started to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm such a mess over this whole breakup thing. I wish I could say it was my idea but it wasn't. Yamcha found someone else and he thinks that I have too."
Perhaps the biggest reason Yamcha wanted to break up was because he thought she had feelings for Vegeta. The girl he was "with" was really just a friend with benefits. He didn't care about her and he let her know but he said he noticed the way Bulma looked at Vegeta. She hadn't ever looked at Yamcha that way and he knew it. It wasn't a lie. Bulma knew she was attracted to Vegeta in some way, even if he treated her terribly. She had imagined things would have progressed farther with Yamcha; she had wanted at some point to get married and have a family. He wasn't ready to settle down, though, and he may not ever be. The fight she had with herself when she allowed her mind to wander to those forbidden fantasies with the Prince was that he definitely wouldn't want to settle down. That was the thought that kept her in her place. Now that Yamcha was out of the picture she didn't care what he wanted... as was apparent by her activity just now.
The fight that Vegeta was dealing with now was what to do about the emotional female sitting next to him on the couch. All of the women he had dealt with in space had either been warriors from other planets that Frieza had controlled or had been on planets he had annihilated. He had been raised by his mother up until she died giving birth to his younger brother but at such a young age he couldn't even really remember what she looked like. Needless to say, he had never dealt with a woman in this situation. She was no warrior and she wasn't his mother; it was a shame she didn't come with some sort of an instruction manual. Apparently she liked when he talked to her or even just listened to her... why did he care? Warriors are not psychiatric doctors. They are not responsible for comforting Earth women.
With great difficulty, he reached out a hand and set it on her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, wiping at her eyes. He was offering her a silent invitation that she took. She scooted up close to him and wrapped her arms around his strong core. He rested his arm on her still hesitantly, still thinking this snuggling this was far beneath him but she did feel very nice tucked away next to him. Some moments passed in perfect silence before her breathing became heavy. As the wine really began to hit his bloodstream his lids became too heavy to hold up and he leaned his head against the back of the couch. Whatever... he thought.
The next morning when Mrs. Brief passed through the living room to make breakfast she saw the two still slumbering on the couch. She squealed before quickly covering her mouth and dashed off to get her camera. Once she had it, she snapped a quick picture and quietly left the room. Only she would know that she had the picture... at least until she accidentally let it slip to Bulma and that picture joined the others on her headboard.