I really don't know what spurred this fic on. Really. I'm certain it's the result of too much homework and obscenely late nights. Either way, here is a semi-quick multiple chapter fic of Vegeta and Chichi ACTUALLY INTERACTING WTFlolz.
(This was formerly a one-shot, but a tiny plot bunny came along and snagged me in the butt.)
Pairing-wise: Goku/Chichi, Vegeta/Bulma, and some hearty yarns of attraction between Vegeta and Chichi. Also, infidelity makes its debut between the said two. Dear Tension: have fun being cut! Love, Knife.
Reviews (especially critical ones) are greatly appreciated, as always! :3 I'm always looking to improve my writing.
A purple-haired boy pouted and folded his arms with indignity, ripped from the pride bestowed by his birthright. "Papa, why are you still carrying me?"
A white glove clenched the back of the boy's shirt, a few hundred meters above the earth. The glove's owner gave the body a quick shake and muttered, "Quiet, you!"
Trunks and Vegeta were making fast headway to the Son residence, the humble yet cozy home snuggled amongst the hills of Mount Paozu. Though his son could fly, Vegeta was never one for patience. The boy flew at too slow a pace. Trunks was only 4, yes, but Kakarotto's older brat was able to do much, much more impressive things than his own brat at the same age. Vegeta glared up at the heavens and cursed; even in absence, Kakarotto was getting the best of him.
After a few more moments of terse flying, they saw puffs of smoke chugging happily out of a modest chimney. "Finally!" Trunks exclaimed as soon as he saw the smoke. "We're here, we're here! I can hardly wait to see Goten!" The broad grin on his face was a sure indicator that he forgot all about his broken ego - it was a carbon copy of his best friend's own goofy grin.
Vegeta glanced down at his overjoyed son. "Don't you dare start looking like him now." He then let go of the impatient, squirming mass under his hand while smirking to himself. After all, Bulma did say to 'drop Trunks off at Son-kun's house'.
With nary a second thought, Trunks' instinct kicked in as he controlled his ki and flew down to the ground. He landed in front of the Son's door without a thimbleful of grace, stumbling over his feet several times before righting himself. Vegeta frowned from his spot in the air; he thought the boy would do better than that. With a disapproving sigh, he lowered himself down to the earth and followed in silence.
Unable to contain his excitement, the boy plowed the front door down and ran through the house as if it were his own. "Goten," Trunks cried throughout his newly invaded household, "Goten!" He sped past the rooms he knew like the back of his hand, seeking out his partner in crime.
Upon hearing his best friend's voice, the three year old Goten leaped out of the living room where he was playing with his toys. "Trunks!" he exclaimed, while racing towards the sound of the voice. They collided halfway through their individual sprints - which was unfortunately in the kitchen, in view of the two eyes at the back of Son Chichi's head.
With an annoyed tick of her eyebrow, she turned around from her vegetables in the sink and glowered at them. "Boys! How many times must I tell you? No running in the house!" She towered over them with balled fists on her hips, looking from one to the other in menace.
A millisecond later, both of them were untangled with their heads low in deference. "Sorry ma'am," they mumbled in unison. Almost as fast as they untangled, they were in a rough and tumble ball again, play fighting each other over all the area they could cover.
Vegeta let out an amused snort, watching their limbs sprawl all over each place. Chichi, however, was not amused at the presence of the unexpected noise. "Vegeta!" she exclaimed as she jolted in surprise. "When did you get in?"
He shook his head at the woman and rolled his eyes as he walked towards her. "How unobservant." He nodded back at the door frame he was standing in. "I was there the entire time, woman." Determining himself close enough in her proximity, he leaned against the refrigerator behind him and folded his arms across his chest.
"Hmph." Chichi tossed her head and moved away from Vegeta, turning her attention back to the sink to continue washing the vegetables. With a tangential note in her voice, she muttered, "You would do well to learn some manners, Vegeta. Haven't you ever heard of knock-"
"Don't lecture me," he interjected in a sharp voice. "If you're going to berate someone under your roof, it had better only be your two brats or Trunks."
Rather pleased that Vegeta gave her leeway to discipline his son, Chichi decided to incline to the man's orders – for now. "Alright, alright," she said with a casual wave of her hand. "Now, what do you really want, Vegeta? You usually don't even see Trunks in through the door."
Vegeta tilted his head down and closed his eyes, mostly out of annoyance at Chichi becoming a pestilence. "Trunks will be spending the night here."
"Well, you should have asked me instead of telling me - but it's fine, of course. I'm sure the boys will love that, and Trunks has more than enough of his things here. Did Bulma tell you to ask me?"
Vegeta decided not to dignify her last obnoxious remark with words; he answered the question with an affirmative grunt.
"…I see," she said. Her conversations with Vegeta, if one could call them that, were almost nonexistent - and she was unsure about continuing this one or not. She decided to busy herself with washing more vegetables; he would certainly leave sooner than later. Even if she were to end the brief chat by saying goodbye, he wouldn't return the niceties. It was pointless. She finished scrubbing the vegetables and proceeded to bustle around the kitchen, paying Vegeta no mind. He was a big boy, he'd see himself out. Preparing food for her children and Trunks was no easy task, and she had to get a head start on it – in Vegeta's presence or not.
The prince stood in the same position for a while, keeping his eyes closed with his head tucked down and his arms crossed against the broad rays of his chest. Without a sound, he watched Trunks and Goten squeal and run out of the room, probably to do whatever trouble they usually did. "Idiots." He shook his head yet again, clicking his tongue and folding his knee so he could prop the sole of his foot against the refrigerator door.
"Foot down, Vegeta," commented a stern Chichi without looking up.
Vegeta didn't move an inch. "Are you capable of not nagging all the damned time, woman?"
Chichi shot him a nasty glare while wiping the soup spoons at the dining table dry; she decided to evade the question. "Is there any particular reason why you're still here?"
His eyes finally lifted, only to look at the woman with a glint of malicious mischief in his stare. "I don't know how Kakarotto puts up with you and all that nagging. The Other World must be a vacation for him."
Dumbfounded and burning a vibrant shade of red, Chichi started to wipe the back of a spoon with increased vigor. "What? If you're going to stand there, only to insult my relationship with my husband, my strong relationship," she shouted, clearly unsettled and on the defensive, "then maybe I should just kick you out!"
Vegeta was behind her before she could use the spoon as her makeshift shuriken.
Using lightening speed, he searched out Goten and Trunks' ki. He was glad to note that they were tucked away in Goten's room and not able to see what would happen to an insolent woman. The last thing he wanted were 4 little fists punching - no, tickling - his back. He did another check, this time for Gohan. The boy was thankfully off at the library, most likely doing some project forced onto him by his mother. By the time Vegeta finished searching, the spoon was making harsh contact with the refrigerator.
Before she could turn around or even make a sound, Vegeta had Chichi's arms pinned behind her back with her two wrists secured in the tight grip of his hand. He moved his mouth closer to her ear, wanting to make sure she would hear every thick word. "You dare attack me?" he commented in a dangerous, hushed tone.
"Let go of me!" Chichi barked as she tried to wriggle out of the iron-clad grasp. "I'm not afraid of you!"
Vegeta merely chuckled at Chichi's struggling. "I thought you were going to kick me out," he chided, entertained by the situation. "How typical for a woman, to be all talk. It seems that this makes you so very weak, doesn't it?"
This, in turn, was the last straw for Chichi. "Weak? Weak? I am the strongest woman on Earth, Vegeta! I am married to the strongest man! We have the strongest children! Don't you call me... call me weak!"
Vegeta furrowed his eyebrows, oblivious to the fact that he was holding her tighter out of his own growing anger. In his eyes, Chichi just blatantly gloated her own family's supposed superiority before him. He squeezed down even harder on her wrists, determined to make her feel the repercussion of her boasts. "What did you just say?" he growled.
In a move that Vegeta would never fathom in a million years, Chichi somehow managed to pull herself free from the hold – and also spin around to face him. All fury was on the woman's face; her eyes flashed like a thousand black holes awaiting their collapse. She scanned the features of his arrogant face up and down, then scowled at its lack of remorse or respect.
"Don't touch me."
A loud slap left the imprint of her left palm flashing its heat against Vegeta's cheek.
"Say what you have to say and leave," she said in a tone of all ice. "Gohan will take Trunks home tomorrow."
'What is this?' Vegeta thought as he blinked in anger was pushed aside by his shock. How could she even think to lay a finger, let alone a hand on him? Didn't she know who he was?
And then, he understood.
Bulma was a firebrand to say the least, but Chichi now seemed to be on a completely unreachable plane in comparison. Bulma couldn't generate a sizable ki even if she built a machine to help her - but here, in front of his very own eyes, was an Earthling female who could stand up to him. Well, for the whole of about 5 seconds of course, but it was spirit that counted. Oh yes, Chichi had this in spades: how she had all the Son men wrapped around her little finger, how brash and dominant she was, how she never failed to voice her opinion no matter how vexatious it was. Spades.
She and Bulma were both easily alpha females on their planet - Bulma much more so than Chichi, with her incredible genius and wealth - but only Chichi had the chutzpah necessary to be truly elite on Vegetasei. Her human body was the only setback.
Kakarotto had bested him again.
He had the superior mate.
With complete jealousy fueling his thoughts and actions, he seized the wrist of the hand that slapped him and saturated Chichi in his bitter glare. This time, she wouldn't get away. He made sure of that, gripping tighter than before on the feminine skin beneath his palm. Her resulting cry of pain made his blood grow hotter for a split second - he had almost forgotten how good the domination of a worthy female felt. Bulma was certainly fine enough, but her qualities were too intangible. Wealth and social status? That was all good and well, but Chichi had something more valuable that Bulma simply didn't: sheer physical strength.
Gods, this felt good.
After reveling in contentment for a moment more, he snapped his mind to the present situation. It wouldn't do to have her notice his prior flash of satisfaction. Besides, she was starting to squirm. He had to end this.
"Look, woman!" he spat, curling his fingers harder into her wrist. He was rewarded with another apt cry and he continued on. "I only milled around this God-forsaken place to see if that damned child of yours could come over to spend the weekend. Before you get any bright ideas, I could care less if the idiot fell off a cliff, but Bulma," he stressed, "apparently misses him and wants to spend time with the brat." He threw down Chichi's wrist and snarled at her through gritted teeth. "I was just taking my time to construct what I was going to say, fool. I would rather die than have you think I'd personally ask for your hellspawn to stay in my house."
Chichi's eyes grew wide as she gingerly held her left wrist in her hand. She was stunned. Delicate maiden she was not, but it had been a while since she had been so... manhandled. A perplexed expression came upon her - a mix of offense and disbelief appeared on the landscape of her face. What was wrong with this man?
Suddenly resolute, she forced herself to look away from Vegeta and fix her gaze on the stove. "I don't know what Bulma sees in you," she said in a soft air of finality.
Vegeta smirked. "I'll take that for a yes. She will come pick your brat up herself." The man pivoted on his heel and strode away from Chichi. "My regards to your children," he noted in a sarcastic tone, leaving as though nothing had happened at all.
Chichi continued watching the stove, holding her breath until she heard the inevitable slam of the front door. She took a deep exhale and turned to face the table, scrambling back to the cutlery and cloth. How could Vegeta even do this to her? She busied her physical being with wiping the spoons again - but her emotional being was a wreck. Never did she miss her husband more than she did now.
Never would he have allowed that to take place.
'Please visit soon, Goku-sa,' she thought, fighting off the tears that frosted her lashes.
And that was the only amount of sadness she allowed herself to feel.
A moment later, she was humming a pleasant tune and slicing bell peppers – and she was also devoid of any tumultuous emotion she had felt prior. It was all locked away in a box inside of her, somewhere where no one but herself could reach it.
It would be best to forget that situation ever occurred.
So she did.
Peering around the corner were two pairs of curious eyes, expertly spying on the ruckus they had noticed earlier. Like a totem pole, Goten was kneeling on the floor and Trunks had his head resting on top of the unruly black tufts. As they tried their best to digest the scene they just saw, all they could do, was blink.
"Ah, Trunks, your dad is a meanie!" Goten whispered, peeking up at his counterpart with wide, rounded eyes.
Trunks glanced down at his best friend and gave him a halfhearted shrug. "I know, Goten. I know."