'V-Day, the Grownup Way'

AN: Part 2. There's language and sexy-type things, so under 18, shoo! Haha, how hypocritical, I was totally reading porn when I was twelve.

But seriously, get lost, young & impressionables. XD

(Although honestly it's not that graphic. Sorry. I'm shy.)

Disclaimer: Not mine not mine not mine!

"Mm, happy Valentine's day, Vegeta…"

Here it comes, the prince thought, anticipating what manner of striptease the woman would perform for him this year—the slow, taunting sort? Or perhaps a decidedly dirty game of "hidden and seeking," or whatever the hell it was called.

He preferred "the Shredder," truth be told. The mental image of the last time he tore up Bulma's expensive undergarments made him damn near grin. But oh, time to pay attention, she was getting closer—

"…so here's the keys. Go start the car."

Wait. What?

Bulma laughed right in his face at the expression he made, the loud and booming sort that meant she was amused at his expense. "Aw, what, were you expecting something else? Errands now, fun stuff later!"

"Okay, first things first: groceries."

"Oh, joy," Vegeta sneered. He was currently stuffed inside the motorized death-trap Bulma insisted on using, despite flight being far more efficient.

And with her driving, the chances of them being maimed or causing serious property damage increased dramatically.

Bulma took a hand off the wheel, and a year off Vegeta's life, to pat his arm affectionately. "Don't pout! I'll let you pick out whatever you want. Which is probably everything."

He glowered and shook her off, but that only seemed to amuse her more.

The supermarket was swarming with humans, and at this ungodly hour it was mainly the elderly variety. The sound of squeaky shopping cart wheels and orthotic shoes threatened to incite an immediate and long-lasting migraine. The garish pink-and-hearts décor made good on that threat.

Bulma grabbed three carts ("what, you think one is enough? For our household? Ha!"), and Vegeta was coerced into steering two of them. The woman led the way, dropping this and that into the metal carriages with barely a glance and apparently no concern as to their welfare.

As they wandered through the frozen food section, Vegeta was shocked to feel a light tap on his shoulder. He whirled around, curious to see who dared assault him, and was met with the smiling face of a brown-haired female who looked to be around Bulma's age. Her uniform marked her as an employee of the store. That will have to be burned, or it will be too easy to identify the remains, he noted.

"Hi!" The woman chirped, oblivious to Vegeta's desire to tear off the hand she had defiled him with. "Care to try a mini brat and some cheese cubes? They're tasty and free!"

"Brat?" he blurted, stunned to think that humans practiced cannibalism. Sure, his own brats could be irritating, and he'd eaten a few sentient beings in his day, but this woman's suggestion that he taste-test one of her own kind was appalling.

"Yup," she nodded, "bratwurst. They're very…yummy." Her voice lowered along with her gaze as she blatantly gave him a once-over.

He took a step back. "How—how dare—!"

"Sorry," the woman husked, "I just wanted to share…I've been stealing nibbles all day. Whenever I see something I like, I just wanna…put it in my mouth."

"Oh yeah? Wanna start with my fist?" Bulma had come to intervene, and the carton in her hand looked less like a gallon of ice cream and more like a bludgeon every second.

The conflict was solved without any bloodshed, much to his disappointment.

"Well, that was interesting," Bulma growled as they pulled up to the drive-thru window at the pharmacy. "Been a while since I've fired someone who doesn't even work for me. Felt good."

"I still say you should have insisted on a public execution," Vegeta replied.

"I told you a hundred times, we don't have those here anymo—oh, yes, hello," Bulma greeted the suddenly nervous-looking man who was leaning out the window to assist her. "Picking up. The last name is 'Briefs.'"

The man seemed very glad to duck back inside, but returned moments later to hand Bulma several white paper bags. And a few more. Then several more after that.

Vegeta's lap became the dumping ground for the packages, and he pushed them to the floor with much crinkling. "Just how many addictive substances does the old man require to live?"

"These are for Mom, you jerk! And they're multivitamins. Probably."

"Last stop, and then we're headed for home, I swear," Bulma cajoled, trying to keep Vegeta from literally jumping out the window and taking off. "I'll make it worth your while, and you know I'm good for it."

Vegeta folded his arms and thought hard. "Fine. But I want to be in and out quickly."

Bulma turned to look at him, brows arched high.

"I meant this building, not—pah," he snarled, red.

"Well, I hope so, Vegeta, but…can't promise much with this place."

They drove past a sign which read 'Department of Motor Vehicles and Hovering Craft.'

"I have to renew my license or I can't drive!"

"You can't drive with one!"

Bulma took several deep breaths, inhaling through her nose and exhaling from her mouth. "Because I understand that you sometimes express yourself with words you don't necessarily mean, I will—"

"Is that a line from that idiotic self-help tape you've been listening to?" Vegeta snickered. Really, how foolish. One did not 'manage' anger. One harnessed its power and used to destroy one's enemies and—

"You. Sit," Bulma thundered, jabbing her finger at a plastic chair in the waiting area. "I will come get you when I'm done. Got it?"

Vegeta glared, but the promise of later had him sitting down just the same to wait.

And wait.

And wait.


Vegeta was moments from a relapse into his more 'casually homicidal' persona, when a low muttering to his left drew his eye to a man sitting a few chairs down the row from himself. The stranger was hunched over, hands clasped in front of his face, lips quivering as he mumbled nonsense to no one.

Vegeta leaned away, but couldn't help barking "what the hell are you jabbering about?"

The man didn't even look up. "I'm praying."

"For what?"


A commotion from the desk at the front prevented Vegeta from granting his wish. "What do you mean, not enough points of identification? I'm Bulma fucking Briefs! The most beautiful, intelligent, and recognizable woman on the entire goddamn planet!"

The prince breathed a sigh of relief. Time to go.

Vegeta left the stranger to his fate.

"God, that sucked. I'm so tired," Bulma groused, kicking off her shoes and removing her jewelry as she prepared for bed.

Vegeta cleared his throat pointedly.

Bulma rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Oh, yeah. Why don't I wait for you in bed while you take a shower? Yes you do need one," she said, forestalling his protests.

"Hn. Don't get too comfortable, woman."

Of course. Of-fucking-course. She fell asleep, that weak-willed human wench!

And he wasn't even all that angry at her for it, which just made him angrier.

Vegeta climbed into bed, getting a smidgen of sadistic pleasure as the mattress moved and jostled Bulma, interrupting her snores. He rolled over, closed his eyes, and…

…snapped them back open as he felt Bulma's hand sliding across his bare stomach.

"Silly man, did you really think I'd fall asleep on you? I've been looking forward to this all damn day," Bulma giggled, crawling over to straddle Vegeta's hip when he stubbornly refused to roll over. "C'mon, don't get all cranky now. Gimme a little…" She pressed a slow kiss to his neck, and he was nearly undone. Evil woman, always going straight for the throat…

"You have toyed with me for the last time," he rumbled, helping himself to a handful of her ass—two handfuls, after a moment. "Now you will be my plaything."

"Ooh, yes please," Bulma moaned, wiggling over him and stretching like a contented cat, not at all cowed by his threat. He'd have felt insulted if she wasn't wriggling right above his rapidly hardening cock…maybe later…

"Happy Valentine's, Veh...mn. Vegeta."

"Don't remind me."


He hauled her into a kiss, stopping her chatter with his tongue. Knocking the breath from her lungs with his first strong push inside. Muffling his own sounds against her breasts as she mounted and counterattacked.

The whole room felt stifling, and yet wherever she wasn't he felt cold; the only solution was to be with her, against the headboard, on the floor, back in the bed with their heads where their feet were meant to go.

As they drifted off to sleep, Bulma draped herself over Vegeta's broad chest, swiped a sweaty strand of hair out of her eyes, and whispered in his ear, "I know about that card Bra gave you. I helped her pick them out."

He grit his teeth and held her closer. If he didn't love her so much, he'd kill her.

AN: This is probably full of typos and it's defintely full of too many dashes and ellipses, but it's 4am here and I'm only doing this because I love you guys. So Happy Valentine's Day and goodnight, dammit! XD

PS, thank you very much, ijustwokeup, for the 'DMV' prompt! What a great idea!