Disclaimer: I don't own Bulma, Vegeta or Dragon Ball Z. The manga belongs to Viz/Shonen Jump, and is written by Akira Toriyama. The anime belongs to Toei Animation Company Ltd. I'm only borrowing the characters for use in this fanfiction. I make no money from this and it means no harm to the series.

 

 

 

Chinks in the Armor

By Trynia Merin

 

 

 

Sweaty from a workout, Vegeta felt the weight of his armor on his damp shirt. It pressed the material of his spandex down as he took every step. While this would make many humans miserable, Vegeta was accustomed to wearing his armor every moment of the day. The flexible polymer of the breastplate conformed to his chest like the second skin of his undersuit. Who cared if there were a few holes and pieces missing? Today however, he had been forced to wear a suit he'd grabbed from his assault on Cooler's planet. His prized suit of armor was missing.

 

"Oh Vegeta dear, tell Bulma dinner's ready!" Mrs. Briefs said as she brushed past him. That small apron barely covered the front of her capris and her large overstuffed tube top. Bulma had inherited her mother's goddess-like body, and her father's brains. Yet the whifty airhead nature of her dam pervaded what was genius intelligence.

 

"I'm not the servant, you are," Vegeta grumbled.

 

"I know dear, but I will make it up to you. We're having the best cheesecake for desert, and there's an extra helping if you do me this ONE teensy favor, hmm?" Mrs. Briefs wheedled.

 

"Fine whatever. I'll bring her kicking and screaming. That might make it more entertaining."

 

"Ohh sounds kinky," she winked.

 

"Excuse me," Vegeta curtly disengaged the hand she had wrapped around his muscular biceps. Offensive words could result in a loss of the good food she prepared. So rather then jeopardizing a good thing he just brushed her off. Mrs. Briefs rarely got upset, but Vegeta knew that if you insulted a cook that threats could not bother, you'd be miserable.

 

Often something drew him into the laboratory where he knew the woman was working. Bored from the lack of activity and still on a high from his workout he sought some amusement each day. Sometimes heckling the blue haired female named Bulma was a source of some laughs.

 

Lately the arguments grew more and more intense. Both struggled to find the best verbal pot shots to trade. Then once their arsenals were complete over a long day of isolation they would let loose with a full barrage of their very choice phrases. Bulma's face would turn red, and Vegeta's smirk would grow. Till the onslaught ended and both whirled away in a huff before dinner was served. Sometimes Bulma helped cook the huge repast, other times she was so busy fixing the mess of Vegeta's training sessions that she was nowhere to be found.

 

Yet today he had another reason. She had crossed a line into his private domain, and he was there to extract retribution. Such offers of hospitality when he first came back to life rang hollow now. All because of a stupid earth custom called April Fools. Earlier that day he had come in from his morning routine to the small apartment adjacent to his GR to find something amiss.

 

Vegeta arrayed his belongings, as sparse as they were to insure that nobody invaded his domain. Very few things he could call his own save battered suits of armor. In particular he prized one thing above all others. On a shelf where books normally were put, he had placed the very breastplate that he wore when Freiza killed him on Namek. The hole through the left breast and the larger gap in the abdominal panel served to remind him the price of weakness. Every morning he awoke to ridicule the piece of armor and remind himself why he needed to train. Kakkarot had defeated Freiza when he could not. Now he aimed to prove his supremacy and achieve the Legendary.

 

 

So he took it upon himself to go to Bulma's labs off the main living quarters. They were near Dr. Briefs, but they were chock full of the accidents of a misspent teenage time. Vegeta snorted as he saw the broken bots and other mothballed things through the windows that were at shoulder level at intervals in the hall. Just like her to show her trophies. If it wasn't boys and makeup it was her latest little gizmo. Vegeta wanted to gag how she flaunted both her brains AND her looks in everyone's face. That girl needed a reality check. And he enjoyed giving it to her in spades.

 

Stealthily he peered through the half open door. Bulma's off key humming accompanied the small buzz of music emanating from the two small earpieces connected by a cord to the small ipod on her belt. She wore a labcoat streaked with dust and grease, and he saw that her bare legs protruded from the bottom. Across her chest the buttons puckered a bit, and he saw a hint of cleavage flash when she turned. Under that coat he presumed she was wearing short shorts and a halter-top because it was the middle of summer. Not to mention that frizzy blue hairstyle that defied gravity topped off a ridiculous appearance. He had to admit he hated the frizz, but there was something about it that allowed him to see the nape of her sensuous neck and the proud shape of her forehead. Blue eyes gleamed without a fringe of bangs and he silently thanked the miserable hairstyle that afforded him the view of two attributes other then her marvelous breasts and hips.

 

While Saiyan males were drawn to breasts and hips, they also tended to look for the subtle things like the neck, ears, and shape of a woman's face. Granted these were places they nipped affectionately. Reality blurred and Vegeta materialized right behind her. Arms folded across his chest as he peered at the back of her neck and wondered how long it would take her to sense him there from her peaceful rock fed oblivion.

 

Suddenly Bulma stopped, still with her back to him. She leaned slightly over the lab counter with a soldering iron poised over a circuit board. Vegeta peered over her shoulder to see her working on a panel from one of the ruined gravity bots he'd decimated the day before. He schooled his face into a typical frown and waited patiently.

 

Hot breath fanned her neck and Bulma inwardly shivered. Ever since Namek she was scared of her own shadow when alone. While she forced the feelings away, somehow she derived some sense of safety knowing Vegeta was near and would liquidate any threat. Yet there were the times when he'd scared her badly, only to provoke her into an argument. Gripping the soldering iron, she tensed the muscles in her back and whirled around. The flat of her hand shot dangerously close.

 

"Watch it buster!" she shrieked, hand curled into a fist. It sailed towards Vegeta's jaw. He leaned backwards to avoid the blow. Bulma dropped her soldering iron and backed away to see whom it was.

 

"Oh shit," she mumbled. Then gaining false courage she narrowed her eyes and snapped, "Oh it's YOU. What's the big IDEA scaring the shit out of me, huh? Did your MAJESTY run out of BOTS to smash?"

 

"I don't need to explain my actions to you, least of all, wench," he answered in a low but derisive tone.

 

"Get bent! Can't you just piss off for one day! I'm damn SICK of you creeping around like some animal stalking me! Get your sick thrills some other way," she bitched, wagging a finger in his face.

 

"Ohh the little girl has a foul mouth on her. Who would have thought," he taunted.

 

"Vegeta, what the hell are you in here for! Thanks to you I've been in here all day cleaning up after you!"

 

"As a good servant woman should," he answered.

 

"Bite my ass, Prince. And let me get BACK to work! I'm had enough for one day! I'm not in the mood for your little bitchfest," she stuck her tongue out at him. Turning around she presented her back to him and started to work.

 

"I suppose you don't care that dinner is served? How ungrateful you are," Vegeta taunted. "I suppose I'll just let you work away without any food. Considering how much you eat in front of the television I know you won't miss it much…"

 

"What? You mean you just came down here to tell me dinner was on? Why didn't you say so, you putz?" Bulma snapped, yanking the earphones out of her ears and wheeling on him.

 

"You don't wish to listen that's not MY affair," Vegeta taunted, tuning around and starting to walk out.

 

"Hey you, are you just pulling my leg or is dinner REALLY ready?"

 

"You blew it woman," Vegeta said, walking out. He turned for a moment and snickered, "I guess I shall just have to eat YOUR portion since you're so faithfully fixing 'my so called' mess. Ungrateful you are. Tsk, Tsk."

 

"Now WAIT a minute, you jerk, you wouldn't DARE!" Bulma snapped, racing after him. Vegeta felt her hand grab his arm in a viselike grip. Turning slightly he stared down at her hand clutching his arm.

 

"You should watch what you touch, woman," Vegeta growled under his breath.

 

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked. Dark eyes fixed into hers with a hard stare. The intensity of a cobra staking out its prey, his eyes held hers. She swallowed hard and licked her suddenly dry lips.

 

"Let me refresh your memory," he said. He took a step forward, his wrist slipping out from under her grasp. She let go of his arm as if she had touched something hot. Bulma instantly backed away when she saw the hardness in his stare, penetrating deeply into her mind and soul. It was as if he was searching her and finding her wanting.

 

"Vegeta, if this is some kind of game…"

 

"Why would it be a game? Answer me this first, did you not agree to provide hospitality for me?"

 

"Yes but what does this have to do with screwing around with my mind? I've had a long day because of your…"

 

"I'm simply showing you the same lack of consideration you showed me," Vegeta continued. She glanced down at his gold-toed boots stepping closer and closer to narrow the gap between them.

 

"Lack of consideration? Since when did you care about that?"

 

"You put on such a notion of being polite and civilized, and act as if I'm the one without couth or social graces. When in reality you're just a hypocrite. Your so called hospitality is a falsehood," Vegeta snorted.

 

Bulma opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when his glare told her he wasn't even to his first point. Something told her that he had been holding back a grudge of some sort and was waiting for the right time and place to confront her. Her logical brain spun wildly trying to anticipate what game he was playing.

 

"You put on airs of being nice and accommodating. Trying to win me over with your so-called notions of kindness and hospitality. Providing me with training apparatuses and food only to lie about your true intent. Showing a lack of respect for my privacy," Vegeta said in a low harsh voice.

 

"What are you talking about?" Bulma swallowed hard.

 

"You invaded the inner sanctum of the quarters you provided for me. I ask you what the purpose was? For some frivolous GAME after you tried to earn my trust. To humiliate me in front of your friends?" Vegeta asked. "For some STUPID fucking EARTH custom!"

 

"I have no idea WHAT you're talking about! You're making no sense!" Bulma blurted out in irritation. Blue eyes sparkled with anger and frustration. She couldn't see where their nightly battle of wits had suddenly taken such a nasty turn.

 

"You stole something that was mine, woman. Just to provide yourself with cheap amusement. And then you lecture ME about disturbing YOU and inconveniencing you?" Vegeta laughed angrily. "I'm simply giving you a taste of your own medicine, wench!"

 

Something bubbled up in her brain. Glancing over Vegeta's armored shoulder she saw it was April first. Her eyes widened and then she gave a nervous laugh. "Wait… I get it, this is an April fools joke, right?"

 

"Wrong, woman. That damn fool stupid custom that you insist on perpetuating has shown me your true intentions! I'm not some animal for your amusement, woman!" he snapped.

 

"If this is a joke, it's scaring me!" Bulma swallowed. Her backside slammed against something square and hard. Then she realized she had backed up as far as she could against the lab counter where she was working. "The intent of April fools isn't to take a joke seriously… it's just…"

 

"So you ADMIT to stealing my armor?" Vegeta asked, leaping forwards. Two gloved hands bracketed her hips on either side. Vegeta's fingers dug into the Formica lab counter while his body imprisoned her. Looming just before her face was his visage creased with outrage. His black eyes seemed to swallow all light as they flared a dangerous gleam of thinly contained rage.

 

"Wait… you're angry because of the joke I played on you. Is THAT it?" Bulma asked, suddenly putting the pieces together.

 

"What do you mean 'is that it?'! How DARE you make light of your crime!" Vegeta yelled. She turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut at the force of his harsh shout.

 

"I didn't mean anything by it! It was Krillen's idea because you were keeping that old damaged armor you always bitch at when you're training! I just thought you could use a new suit instead of that piece of shit!" Bulma gasped.

 

"That ARMOR was one of the last things I wore when I faced Freiza, you bitch," Vegeta retorted, shoving his nose close to hers. "To take possession of a Prince's armor is punishable by DEATH on Vegetasei! You think this is some game by taking what is rightfully mine?"

 

"I… I didn't realize that was the case, honestly Vegeta!" she apologized. Her flesh blanched alabaster pale. Suddenly her knees grew weak along with the shivers of terror creeping over her skin. Rooted to the spot she was truly terrified.

 

"You take such liberties with my property, and dare to complain that I show you NO consideration! If that is the case then how can I not be sure that there are other things you are holding back! Your true purpose to entice me here was to distract me from my mission! Admit it, you seduced me with your false words of confidence only to betray me. To belittle me and what pride remains by thinking you could twist me to your weakling earth ways!"

 

"No that's not it at all!" Bulma cried. "I didn't mean anything by taking that armor! It was only a harmless prank! I thought you understood April Fools was just a joke! Can't you take a joke?"

 

"I could kill you for that woman. Why did you REALLY drag me here? How can I be sure of anything that you say…"

 

"Vegeta, I swear to Kami that I meant nothing by what I did! I had no clue that someone hiding your armor was such a… a bad thing!" Bulma said. "I can't read your mind! I don't know your customs…"

 

"You presume to judge me by your fucked up weak standards. And expect to transform me into one of your weakling loser friends is that it? You get some sense of power from trying to tame the savage beast is that it?" he asked.

 

"Now wait a minute! That's wrong! I only invited you here to live with us because I was returning a favor! You helped Krillen, Goku and Gohan on Namek I thought it was the least I could do!"

 

"Is that what you tell yourself, woman? Or was it perhaps because you gain some sick sense of fun by manipulating me to your whim because you're far too weak to defend yourself?" Vegeta laughed harshly, his nose inches from hers, hot breath pulsing against her face.

 

"I… okay I admit I was scared because the androids might kill me! I don't want to die in three years, Vegeta! You're so powerful that I thought you could protect me because I don't have any super powers!" Bulma admitted. Nothing but the truth would satisfy him when he was in his fury. She didn't want to die by the maniac's paranoid rant.

 

"So you ADMIT that your reasons were not altruistic as you let on! You practically shove in my face that you're somehow better then me by offering me a place here out of the so called goodness of your heart when your motives are no more pure then mine. Now you see that nothing is done without a selfish motive. The universe is a harsh place and you pretend it's not. And you're the fool now," Vegeta said with a superior smirk. Gone was the outraged scowl, replaced with a mean grin that he was in the right.

 

"All right, you've got me," Bulma inhaled deeply. Judging from the dangerous glare she knew she had to come clean. Something about the way in which his hard armored breastplate pressed against her labcoat covered breasts mingled her terror with sudden arousal. Did he realize he was so close, or was this another dimension to his game? Was he somehow testing her on yet another level?

 

"Aha," he laughed. "So I was right!"

 

Chapter 2

Index