Who's The Boss?
Bulma sighed as she stared toward her home. Vegeta really had done a number on it. She frowned slightly, looking at the big empty hole in the middle of her house.
Yamucha noticed her despair, which angered him even more. He thought about putting his arm around her, but something about that felt too familiar. She was Vegeta's woman now, whether she would ever admit to it or not. If she really hated him like she said she did, she wouldn't excuse everything he did. Yamucha knew if he were to pull less than half of the shit Vegeta did, Bulma would probably kill him in his sleep. As much as he hated it, she was a woman, and he was gentlemanly enough to comfort her for that reason alone.
"You ok, Bulma?" he asked, sounding concerned. Bulma let out a deep sigh just before covering her face with her hands, shaking her head.
"I'm extremely pissed off…" she said softly. She had been trying to maintain her composure, but looking at that empty space just irked her. How dare Vegeta destroy her home? Who did that bastard think he was? That barbarian had no limits, and it was about time that he had learned his place in her home. But how did you intimidate the all powerful, 'I'll blow up your house,' Vegeta?
Yamucha was actually surprised at her answer. He expected her to feel sad, or perfectly fine. In a way, he would rather her be angry. Taking orders, being sad, and moping around was way out of character for her. For the first time in a while he felt that she might finally return to her normal self.
"Yeah, I can see why," Yamucha smiled, gently removing her hands off of her face with his own. Bulma looked down at their touching hands. She missed his soft touch as opposed to Vegeta's constant manhandling. Yamucha would have been a great father…she sighed again.
"Yamucha, why are you so nice to me?"
"Well…" he started, "I've never experienced so much with a woman before. You will always mean a lot to me. My first, y'know?"
"Yeah, I know," she smiled, looking up at him.
"So, you ready to go inside?" he asked.
"I guess I have no other choice," she shrugged.
"We probably should go through a stable entrance," suggested Yamucha.
"You're probably right. Something will probably fall on us if we walk through here," she said with irritation.
The pair walked around the building to the back entrance. They walked down the hallway toward the dining room, when Bulma stopped.
"I'm not ready to go over that way yet…let's go down to my office," she said cooly, turning around and heading towards the basement.
They made their way to her office, where Bulma sat at her desk chair. Yamucha stood in the doorway, just in case.
"So what are you going to do?" he inquired.
"Honestly, I'm not sure."
"Aren't you going to call a hotel or something?"
"You would think that."
Yamucha stopped to stare at her figure. Her back was facing him, her blue hair lying perfectly down to her shoulders. She was slightly hunched over, her eyes staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her—her right hand clenched onto the mouse while her left hand clenched the telephone. His face got slightly hot as he immediately became aware of the volcano that was about to erupt in front of him. He knew all too well when Bulma was ticked off, and this was a sure sign of the silence before the storm he had come to recognize over the years. This is how she acted right before she got scary…
"Ahh…so….what's the problem?" he asked cautiously, knowing any wrong word could set this woman off.
"How am I going to get him there?" she asked in a stern, yet quiet voice.
"How am I going to drive him anywhere with all of this outside of my house?" She asked, her voice muffled in frustration, as she pointed to the monitor. Many videos where playing on the screen.
"It's every live broadcasting news station in the western hemisphere…"
"AND THEY'RE ALL OUTSIDE MY HOUSE!" she yelled, slamming her hands on her desk, causing Yamucha to jump back. She let out another loud sigh, closed her eyes, and slowly moved her hands down on her lap. She clenched her fists and rubbed them into her thighs. She opened her eyes and spun around in her chair to face Yamucha. She sat straight up in her chair, her arms on the armrests and legs crossed. She looked like some big time executive. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead, as the woman sitting before him looked most intimidating and ferocious, although her demeanor was cool.
"I'm sorry Yamucha, I didn't mean to yell at you. It's not you I'm mad at," she apologized. She pulled herself together just long enough to let him know she didn't mean to offend him in any way. She was pissed, but she didn't want to take it out on Yamucha—not when he was being supportive for once.
"Ahh…ha ha…that's ok," he managed, squinting his eyes and scratching the back of his head with that goofy smile.
"I can't sneak him out of here. Even if the police escort everyone off the property, they will still be waiting just passed the barricade."
"Maybe he can fly himself there?"
"Oh yeah, sure. Then everyone will have live video coverage of a man flying out of my house. I already have to explain this explosion—I don't know how I could explain that."
"So…are you just going to tell him to stay here then?"
"I don't see any other option. What a shame," she sighed. Yamucha just looked down at her and blinked.
"Alright, I know what I have to do," she stated clearly. She suddenly stood up from her chair, and began to walk forcefully towards the exit. Yamucha immediately cleared the doorway, getting out of her way. When Bulma was on a mission, there was no stopping her. He gasped slightly as he realized she was already at the top of the steps. He hurried after her, slowing his pace to hers once he caught up with her.
They entered through the dining room and into the main hallway. To their left stood the stairway to the main bedrooms, and in front of them stood what was left of the living area. Bulma's face began to turn red, as she stared at the destruction with awe. It was different looking at it from the inside. It was more real and in your face and it really, REALLY, made her mad.
"Wow..." Yamucha said in awe, as he silently stared around the room. He walked into the vacant space and looked around curiously.
"This guy has got a lot of self control…" he stated matter of factly, "He concentrated all of his energy to this one room. Everything around it is completely stable and untouched. It's like he was careful not to break anything else, he only wanted this specific area gone."
"You call this self control?" Bulma shot back, giving Yamucha a menacing glance.
"N-n-no….o-of course not!" he stuttered, fearful of the fire in her eyes. She moved her glance from him and immediately began to storm up the stairs toward her bedroom. Yamucha once again hurried after her. She looked like she was about to explode, and he didn't want her to do anything stupid.
Bulma reached the top of the stairs, took a mean left, swung her bedroom door open, and immediately spotted Vegeta sitting at the edge of her bed. He turned his head to face her, but before he could get a sly comment out, her face had appeared directly in front of his, and her right hand grabbed his left ear as hard as it could. Her nails dug into the area between his ear and his head, and she squeezed it and pulled it away from his head as much as her strength would let her.
The Saiyan prince let out a screech of pain, as his head was forced to face down. She pulled him toward her, forcing him to get up. They made their way to the balcony, with her strong strides and Vegeta's crippled walk. His eyes watched the back of her feet, as it was all he was allowed to see. That and a major close up of her rear end. Why the fuck did this hurt so much? While in battle, make sure to always guard the ears, he thought, taking down a quick mental side note.
Still holding onto his ear, she swung back the curtains and opened the glass patio door. She used the doorway to give her momentum as she swung Vegeta out onto the balcony floor, letting go of his ear once he landed in the area that was to her satisfaction.
Yamucha's jaw dropped as he stared through the open door. What was she doing? Was she trying to get herself killed? !
"W-WOMAN! Y-YOU—," Vegeta started, his body still frozen in a half-standing, fetal position.
"LOOK!" she yelled, as she pointed her finger towards the main gate. Vegeta obediently stood up and looked in the direction she had ordered him to. The main gate now served as a barricade to thousands of reporters and bystanders, stretching for miles.
"Look at what you did!" she said sternly, sounding like an owner trying to train an animal. Vegeta was beyond words as he stared at the chaos in silence. He felt obligated to do as she told him to. He didn't know why, but something about her fearlessness commanded his respect and attention. Funny, her fearlessness toward him was part of the reason why he was ever attracted to her in the first place. But this….this took an amazing amount of courage. He was amazed at the amount of gall she had, especially after the display of dominance he tried to show in blowing up her living room. Clearly, his plan to get back at her backfired.
"How do you expect me to explain this?"
"How am I supposed to get rid of all of these people?"
Vegeta growled between clenched teeth. He continued to rub his ear slightly with his left hand. His eyes widened as he saw a red stain on his thumb.
"YOU CUT ME!" He yelled, sounding like a child feeling betrayed after his mother's scorning.
"How am I supposed to take you to a hotel without all of these people following us?"
"I SAID QUIET!"
"Grr…WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME QUESTIONS IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO RESPOND?"
"THEY'RE RHETORICAL QUESTIONS IDIOT! I'M TRYING TO MAKE A POINT!"
"WELL GET TO IT ALREADY!"
"ARRGHMPH!" She screamed, her hands flailing in the air. Vegeta instinctively protected his ears with his hands.
"Ok Vegeta, here's the point," she said with a strict tone, "You don't want to stay here because this place has a hole in it that YOU created. You wanted to stay at a hotel, even though I already have to pay to fix this mess. Ok great, I'd love to have you out of here, but there's no way we can go anywhere without getting hounded by the press. Get it, jackass?"
"Are you going to go to your room now, or are you just going to stand there and growl?"
"You are really testing my patience!"
"You're testing mine!" she shot back, "There's nothing I can do for you, so get out of my fucking room and when it gets dark, feel free to disappear."
"Hmph," he muttered, as he briskly walked towards the exit. As he took a right out of the doorway, he noticed Yamucha in his peripherals.
"And what are you looking a—"
"DON'T TALK TO HIM!" Vegeta heard her yell from inside her room. He gave Yamucha one last glance before he decided to just throw in the towel and head for his room. It seemed like to safest place to be at this point in time…
Yamucha ran into the room as soon as Vegeta was out of his line of vision.
"Holy crap Bulma, that was awesome!" He cheered with excitement. He had never seen the prince lose an argument, and she schooled him!
"Thank you!" She smiled, flipping her hair as she turned to face his direction. Yamucha blushed as the sunlight illuminated her figure and her face appeared to glow.
"Wow…" the word quietly escaped his lips without him knowing.
"What?" Bulma asked softly, her smile so friendly now, after the successful verbal beat down she had just given Vegeta.
"Nothing…" he blushed. She's so beautiful, is what he was really thinking. Not that he could ever tell her that.
"Well Yamucha, you're going to have to stay here tonight, if you don't mind."
"Well, if Vegeta can't leave, I don't see why you should be able to either," she smiled, touching the tip of her nose with her index finger.
"Nnn!" he nodded happily.
Piccolo's eyes grew large, as he hovered above the clouds over Capsule Corporation. He had floated there for an extended period of time, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. He used his acute sense of hearing to listen in on the conversations that were of interest to him. He was shocked to hear that Bulma had made Vegeta bleed, and he even heard the Saiyan scream in pain! It was all quite amusing, as Piccolo had never really cared for Vegeta. But everything seemed to be as it should. Bulma was pregnant with Vegeta's child, and she was in good health. Piccolo had never thought that the wellbeing of these two lunatics would be a priority in his anti-androids strategy, but now it was simply something checked off of his "to-do" list. He could now return to his training without the fate of Trunks lying heavy on his conscious.