Learning how to Live

The following morning, Bulma sat reading one of her subscription science magazines, sipping coffee. Her mother dusted the room around her, humming cheerfully as she always would.

Vegeta’s reaction, however predictable, was distressing her. His words rang in her head “This is all your fault!” and made her feel nauseous. Not only was Vegeta deeply disgusted by the thought of fathering a child, apparently, but he blamed her entirely. She had no idea how to deal with these unwelcome emotions towards the angry alien in her home she’d, perhaps regretfully with hindsight, coerced. She felt stupid and embarrassed for her recklessness behind the conceal of confidence and independence. Torn between anger towards him and… Pity.

"Mom" Bulma begin, dropping the magazine to her lap. "I have some news, but please don't tell anyone..."

"Of course dear!" She replied, continuing to dust.

Bulma watched her mother move gleefully about… "I'm pregnant." She said, for the second time in as many days.

Her mother turned, dropping the duster and clutching her face with a delightful smile, "oh that's wonderful dear! I'll be a grandma! I bet Yamcha is delighted!"

Bulma looked away, "well, he doesn't know, it's not his. We split up."

"Oooh! Then who?" she questioned, in a concerned yet unjudgemental tone.

"...Vegeta." Bulma looked out the window, to the broken gravity machine.

"Oh how wonderful!" Her mother exclaimed, coming to sit beside her and pouring herself some coffee.

Bulma turned to her with a confused and somewhat appalled expression, "wonderful? Vegeta? He's a murdering, crazy..."

"...Powerful, brave, mysterious, dedicated..." Her mother continued, her hands clasped together dreamily.

"...stinky alien." Bulma concluded, still staring at her mother in disbelief.

"Well dear, you always have liked those bad boys!" This was true, Yamcha was hardly pure. "...I think Vegeta is on a whole different level, mom."

"Oh Bulma, give that man a chance, he must have been through a lot!"

Bulma looked back to the window, wondering where Vegeta was, "I would if he'd only give me a chance!"

Mrs Briefs sipped her coffee, "where is that man anyway? I've not seen him around much recently. He hasn't asked me to make him lunch in weeks!"

Bulma sighed, she knew exactly why, but through embarrassment, only told the portion Vegeta himself would offer as an excuse "Training... Speaking of which, the gravity room is faulty, when will dad be home?"

"Oh your father called this morning to say he wouldn't be back for another couple of days!"

"Great."

Vegeta had spent the night training in the wilderness. Without the gravity room, he had a lot of catching up to do. He needed the Briefs to provide the facilities, he needed them for food, for a place to rest, for… Company. Running away from this problem wasn’t an option. He would have to live with this. He relied on the Briefs. The realization filled him with rage, and after his thousandth or so one-handed, full body push up, balancing himself in perfect form upside-down, he encapsulated himself in a fiery aura, righting himself and powering up.

When his stomach growled loudly, he growled back – yet another reminder that he was flesh and blood, yet something else that stood in his way of being an objective warrior. He needed to go back to Capsule Corp. It was a means to an end, he told himself, a necessary evil. His lip twitched, and he set off for “home”.

Vegeta landed on the balcony of his room and pushed the door aside. He opened the door to the hallway quietly, peering outside. No one. Vegeta stepped out into the hall and walked down the corridor, heading for the family kitchen.

Bulma turned a corner, and the two, shocked to see one another, froze for a moment. Bulma frowned, Vegeta also, "you have some nerve taking off like that, then coming back like nothing has happened!" She couldn't help her anger, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You'll need my assistance when the androids arrive, so you'll have to tolerate me until then..." He said calmly, walking on past her. "And in return, I need the facilities here to train."

Vegeta, proud of his word choice, carried onward towards the kitchen. But Bulma had quite enough of tolerating Vegeta over the months he had stayed in their home. She turned to watch him with a glare, following him...

"Why did you take off like that?" She insisted, as they both entered the kitchen.

Eugh, he thought, you’d think she’d be more concerned with the future of this rock she calls home than her own silly emotions and pride. He tried to remain calm. "I had to get back to training." He replied, blankly, opening the fridge door.

Bulma was angry, her emotions high and curious to know how he felt about the news. She’d gone from being enamored with his mysteriousness to hating it, why couldn’t he just answer her and talk to her like a normal person? Stepping in front of him, she looked him dead in the eye and slammed the fridge door closed. "Why can't you see there's more to life than just training?!" She shouted into his face without restraint.

Vegeta stared back at her, confused, his brows furrowing. There was no cocky look on her face. No joking or teasing in her tone. She was angry. "Leave me alone, woman."

"Do you think I haven't noticed?! How you've been avoiding me?! What is your problem, you jerk!"

"I said," Vegeta began, only to be met with a slap across his cheek in response to his audacity. He paused for a moment, though not a flinch, of course. Just stared back at her with an unchanged glare. He pulled the fridge door back open as he retained eye contact in authority, reaching inside to pull out some food. His unemotive glare patronizing, his actions more so.

As Vegeta left the kitchen, Bulma’s eyes welled up. She was furious. Somehow his lack of retaliation was worse. His arrogance had begun to subside up until this point, but now it was back full force, and all because of the news?

Late that night, Bulma sat on the floor of her lab, tinkering with a new machine – a distraction mostly. She was still angry, though slightly embarrassed about how much Vegeta was affecting her. Maybe it was hormonal, she wondered, which only made her more embarrassed. She sighed heavily as she cranked a bolt tightly into place.

Vegeta watched her from the doorway. He’d been wondering the same, but it was confirming his fears that their intimacy together would change things forever, just as he was starting to feel comfortable around the family to some degree. He took a deep breath, and placed his foot down loudly to get her attention. This had to happen. They had to communicate. He needed her help to attain his goals.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw him, and frowned looking back to her work “Vegeta I don’t know how to fix the gravity room, Dad won’t be back for a few days and-“ as she reached for her toolbox, she noticed his feet standing beside her. Surprised, her eyes rolled upward to see him standing arms crossed, gazing across her lab.

“I thought that by avoiding you, I’d be less distracted from training.”  It was the truth, just void of detail.

Shocked, she looked away after a few moments, back to her work. “It’s… fine. I understand. Your training is important. You’re right. Sorry.” She said. Did he just apologize? Did he just remember what I’d said and come back to tell me the answer?

“For?” He asked, looking down to her.

Bulma was confused but pleasantly surprised. “Getting so angry, hitting you… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hn.” He appreciated her bravery and rage; perhaps she was not so dissimilar to himself.

“I need a space pod…” He began, after moments of silence between them. “It would be beneficial to train somewhere away from Earth.”

“Somewhere you can go crazy, huh?” She replied, smiling and turning to look at him. He nodded, and she stood, dusting herself off. “I can arrange that for you in the morning.” Vegeta nodded once more, this time in thanks.