Wet

~1~

Bulma stretched, cat-like, in the warm sun of the beach. Gosh, it felt nice to get out. Chi-Chi and Eighteen had been right. She needed this. Ever since she broke up with Yamcha a few weeks back she hadn't left her home or socialized, burying her nose in her work to forget her heartache and take out her frustration on her inventions.

"You need to get some fresh air," Chi-Chi had insisted.

"You need to get laid," Eighteen corrected.

"And going to the beach is going to get me laid?" Bulma laughed, until she saw the look that passed between the two women. Wait, what? "Oh my god, is this some kind of private sex beach?"

"No, oh my god no," Chi-Chi hurriedly replied, flustered just by the idea. "It's just that…well—"

"Let's just say the water isn't the only thing that'll get you wet," Eighteen deadpanned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulma asked, definitely interested.

"The lifeguards are, um, very good-looking," Chi-Chi said, not quite making eye-contact, her cheeks blushing. Eighteen nodded in agreement.

Bulma sat back, her interest waning. "Goku?" she sighed. He'd gotten a job as a lifeguard last summer. Bulma hadn't been surprised to hear it, it seemed the perfect fit for him. She ought to know, she and Goku had grown up together. He was practically her kid brother, which is why she wasn't especially thrilled to ogle him with his shirt off on the beach.

"Not just Goku," Eighteen amended. "There's a whole team of them. Yamcha will look like a limp noodle next to these guys. One of them is easily six foot eight and probably wrestles crocodiles for fun."

Chi-Chi nodded. "Oh my god, yes, he's the biggest man I've ever seen. But…"

"But?" Bulma prodded.

"Well, I think he's kind of sweet on the gal who works at the ice cream truck."

Eighteen shrugged. "Doesn't stop a girl from looking."

"I suppose."

"I dunno," Bulma sighed, wavering on the idea.

Eighteen narrowed icy blue eyes at her. "Is it true Yamcha is dating a supermodel now?"

Bulma scowled, an ugly black dragon surging through her. "Let's go to the goddamn beach."

"That's the spirit," Eighteen crooned.

And that's how Bulma ended up on the beach with her two friends, soaking up some rays.

The weather was perfect, so blissfully warm with just a hint of breeze off the ocean. Bulma let out a contented sigh. She hadn't seen any of these legendary lifeguards yet, but at this point she didn't really care, she was just pleased to be out. Her new yellow-and-black bikini was helping her feel like a million bucks, garnering her a few admiring stares, fluffing her vanity in all the right ways; Yamcha and her work were becoming more and more distant memories.

"I need more lotion," she demanded, reaching out to slap Eighteen in the side.

"Again?"

"Do you see how pale I am?" Bulma whined. "I'll burn in five minutes if I'm not lubed up."

Eighteen snorted at her choice of words and handed over the bottle. But when Bulma tried squeezing it, the bottle only farted at her in contempt.

"Ugh, it's empty."

"There's a stall up that ways that sells some," Eighteen pointed up the beach.

Well, she could do with a walk. Check out the scene, let some lucky men check her out too. Bulma thumbed out enough cash to buy some lotion, adjusted her bikini bottoms, and strutted her stuff along the sand.

She took the scenic route, wading through the shallows to get her toes wet. The cool water felt amazing, and the sounds of people laughing as they played and swam and conversed around her were intoxicating. She heard the loud rev of an engine and turned around towards it. A jet ski with two good-looking men approached her and slowed down.

"Hey!" One of them shouted at her.

"Hey yourself," she called back, slowing to a stop. She put up a hand to hold back her bangs as the wind wiped at her hair. The shallow waves lapped her calves. "What engine are you running?" she asked, eying the jet ski with curiosity. You could take the girl out of the lab, but you couldn't take the lab out of the girl.

"Show us your tits and we'll tell ya," guy two leered.

Ugh. "Pass." She turned away.

"Hey whoa whoa, excuse my friend," guy one hastily amended. "He forgets his manners around beautiful women. Let me make it up to you and give you a ride."

Bulma glanced over her shoulder where guy one indicated a little inflatable donut the jet ski was dragging.

She hesitated. Normally she would have told them to beat it, but the beach was infecting her, making her feel impulsive. After all, wasn't her outing all about letting down her hair and having some fun? The guys seemed harmless enough. Players, definitely, but nothing she wasn't used to handling.

Eh, to hell with it. "Okay, I'll bite. But only for five minutes, I have to get back to my friends."

"Alright! Hop on, sweetheart!" guy one whooped.

Bulma waded into the water, yelping as the cold water licked up the top of her thighs. She wriggled onto the donut and got comfortable. "Okay, I'm ready!"

The guys started up the jet ski at a gentle pace to pull her into deeper, less occupied water. Then they eased on the accelerator. Bulma skipped playfully over the waves. She raised her arms and let out a playful cheer. The men cheered with her, and Bulma laughed. This had been the right call.

"Wanna go faster?!" guy one called back to her.

"Actually, can I ride the jet ski?" She was still curious about how it worked. It was basically a water motorbike after all, and she loved bikes.

"Hold on!" guy one said, totally ignoring her and opening up the throttle.

She screamed, this time out of fear as she was yanked roughly along. They were going insanely fast, the water rushing by only inches beneath her. The donut bounced violently. As they hit an especially big wave, she landed hard enough to have the wind knocked out of her.

"Ah!"

"You alright?"

"NO!" she screamed, clinging to the donut in fear. "STOP, PLEASE STOP!"

"Faster?"

"NO!"

They didn't listen. Bulma scrunched her eyes shut as they made a sickeningly sharp turn. She might have been alright if they didn't double back over their own wake. The donut struck the surging water and flew sharply up into the air, hanging there for what felt like an eternity.

She slammed back down with the force of getting struck by a runaway train. The donut was ripped out from beneath her and she was flung so hard into the sea her head snapped back.

She didn't remember hitting the water.

~xox~

Vegeta jogged along the beach as he usually did before his shift started. It helped him limber up and center himself before spending the day with the idiots in the tower. He would need every drop of patience he could muster.

"Hey mister lifeguard!" A girl on the beach called after him, recognizing his uniform of red trunks and dark blue lifeguard top. "If I said I was drowning, would you rescue me?"

Grinding his teeth, he didn't acknowledge such an asinine question and jogged on. Apparently those in the tower weren't the only idiots he would need to deal with today.

Speaking of idiots, the distant sound of a jet ski revving far too fast caught his attention. Glancing out to the water, Vegeta grimaced at the sight. He recognized the two scumbags on the ski; they were a known public nuisance. His eyes darted to the back of the jet ski and sure enough spotted some clueless pretty girl getting tossed about behind. He clicked his tongue with disapproval and was about to radio in to the tower when he saw the jet ski enact a sharp turn. The girl hit the water hard and went in.

He waited three seconds, but the girl didn't resurface.

Fuck.

He sprung, sprinting full force towards the water, snatching up a surfboard along the way. "Hey!" the owner yelled after him, but Vegeta kept on, already halfway into the surf. He launched the board into the waves and paddled out, cutting furiously through the waves with powerful strokes towards the location the girl had gone down. The guys on the jet ski spotted him and took off.

Assholes.

He couldn't worry about them right now. Every second counted. He redoubled his efforts and finally approached the crash site. The girl was bobbing in the water. He pulled the drowned thing out and heaved her onto the board.

She was limp. Unresponsive. Fucking great. Vegeta didn't have the resources to help her out here. Her best —her only— chance of survival was to get her onto the land as fast as possible. He secured her as best he could between himself and the board and surfed them back to the beach.

The moment he hit the shallows, Vegeta jumped off and grabbed her up into his arms. He ran her to the nearest dry land before laying her down and pressing his ear to her mouth, his fingers to her wrist.

Nothing. No breathing, no pulse.

"No, no, no you fucking don't. I will not have you ruin my perfect record," he snarled, tilting her head to the side to remove any water in her airways. Then he rolled her head back and breathed into her mouth five times before starting rapid chest compressions. "Breathe, you stubborn bitch, c'mon!"

He went in for a second round of mouth to mouth, and on the third deep breath she bucked and came to life.

~xox~

Bulma gasped, and coughed, struggling to catch her breath. Someone brushed back her wet hair and held her head as she coughed and gathered her thoughts. She felt awful. Where was she?

"Just breathe," an authoritative voice commanded. She tried to sit up but a firm hand pushed her back down. "Don't move, idiot." She whimpered and sank back down, blinking salt water from her eyes. Her vision swirled into focus, forming into a man with a stern expression hovered over her, watching her with dark critical eyes. Voices from nearby started to impede on her senses, murmurs and strange voices talking over each other about some kind of rescue. The man grimaced and ripped off his shirt, revealing one of the most impressive bodies she had ever seen before tucking the shirt protectively over her. "I'm a lifeguard. Stay calm and don't move."

"What…?"

"Don't speak either unless I ask you a question."

She was too weak to argue, which was saying a lot because she almost never let anyone tell her what to do.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" the lifeguard asked her, still watching her carefully.

She winced, fighting back a wave of pain. Her lungs burned, but her chest and neck were far worse. "Yes, my neck—," she started to say, reaching up to touch it.

He tsked in annoyance and pushed her arm back down. "What the hell did I tell you about not moving?"

"Sorry."

He huffed and began touching her to assesses her injuries, his hands warm and strangely comforting in their efficiency. He asked her to squeeze his hands with her fingers, and push down on his palms with her toes. When she passed those tests he asked, "Did you swallow any water?"

"Water?"

"Yes. That blue stuff out there," he snarked, pointing back towards the sea. "The stuff you nearly drowned in? Did you swallow any of it?"

"I don't…" She didn't know, still disorientated. "What happened?"

"You took a ride with those morons and they wiped you out."

Bulma frowned, struggling to remember. She recalled the two men on the jet ski, and the donut, and then the accident. Only, it wasn't an accident? "They did it on purpose?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because more often than not, the girls lose their swimming suits in the process."

Bulma blinked at him, taking that in. He held her gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and glancing away. Was it her imagination, or did his cheeks turn pink?

Oh… oh no.

Eyes widening, Bulma glanced down at herself where his wet shirt covered her chest, not the slightest hint of her yellow bikini top in sight.

"Oh my god," she gasped, clutching his shirt protectively to her chest. Her top must have flown off during the crash. Absolutely mortified, she glanced over to the large crowd of people gathered around them, watching the lifeguard's heroic rescue. Her horror mounted. How many of them had seen her topless? "Oh my god," she whimpered again, scrunching her eyes shut. "Oh my god, oh my god, this is not happening…"

"Everyone back the fuck up," he snarled at the crowd, but was soon interrupted.

"Vegeta!"

"Kakarot, about time! I'm not even on duty yet and already I'm doing your goddamn job?"

"Sorry, Vegeta, I was—Bulma?"

Bulma squinted up at the newcomer. "Goku?" Relief washed through her to see a friendly face.

"Holy crap, Bulma, are you alright?" Goku dropped the stretcher and medical kit he'd been carrying and fell to her side, touching her shoulder. To her shame, his concern shattered her last thread of control and she started weeping.

Vegeta glowered at him. "No she's not alright, you moron. She's in shock and could have secondary complications. Get the stretcher ready and for fuck's sake, stop freaking her out. I had her calm until you got here."

"Right. Sorry, my bad."

Goku readied the stretcher while Vegeta scooped her into strong arms, holding her carefully until it was time to place her on the stretcher. She cried into his chest, whimpering about what an idiot she was.

Vegeta was very gentle with her head as he laid her down on the stretcher, and made sure his shirt stayed in place over her chest as he tucked her in. The two men ran her up the beach, Goku babbling reassuring nonsense to her while Vegeta called in an ambulance. Bulma barely paid them any attention, overwhelmed by the whole ordeal.

The next hour or so passed in a blur. It wasn't until she was admitted to hospital and had some time to process everything, receive some answers, that she finally calmed down. The doctors booked her in for the night for observations. Eighteen and Chi-Chi found her —thanks to Goku—, and they sat by her side.

"You know, when I said you should get out of the house, this isn't exactly what I had in mind," Eighteen drawled from her bedside.

Bulma laughed weakly, then wished she hadn't. Although alive, she hadn't escaped her ordeal injury free. Her neck was strained and two of her left ribs were cracked from receiving CPR. Still, all things considered, she was lucky to be here. If that lifeguard —Vegeta, was it?— hadn't gotten to her as fast as he had, she would have drowned for sure.

"Still, pretty exciting to be rescued," Chi-Chi said, trying to look on the bright side of things.

"Yeah, except of all the guys, she got stuck with Vegeta," Eighteen countered.

"What do you mean by that?" Bulma asked.

"The guy's known for having a massive chip on his shoulder."

"Goku respects him," Chi-Chi pointed out.

"Goku respects the Taco-bell dog," Eighteen replied, much to Chi-Chi's scowling disapproval. "Look, I'm not saying I'm ungrateful to the man. But being a good lifeguard doesn't exempt his shitty, holier-than-thou attitude."

Bulma thought back to her rescue, and wasn't sure she agreed. Yes, Vegeta had been curt with her, and she could see how some might interrupt that as arrogance. But he'd risked his life to save hers. As far as she was concerned, she owed him. Big time. Not only that, but he'd given her the literal shirt off his back to cover her up. Bulma glanced to the bedside table where his shirt sat neatly folded thanks to one of the attending nurses.

There was a knock on the door and the three women looked up. Eighteen's eyes widened when she recognized the short man in an officer's uniform.

"Hi ladies. Eighteen," Krillin greeted them with a friendly smile, blushing a little as he acknowledged Eighteen in particular. Then he cleared his throat and moved over to the foot of Bulma's bed. "Bulma, you up to giving a statement?"

Bulma nodded, smiling wanly. "Yeah. About those assholes on the jet ski, right?"

"You bet. I'm real sorry you got hurt, but this finally gives us grounds to charge these two. We've had so many complaints about them, but with only being a public nuisance until now, we couldn't do much about them."

"Glad I could help," Bulma drawled. "I want to sue those bastards for everything they've got."

"Aren't you filthy rich already?"

"It's the principle of the matter."

Bulma retold her story while Krillin jotted it down. "And this lifeguard who rescued you, he saw the whole thing?" he asked.

Bulma nodded then winced. "Yes, I think so."

"Good. I'll get his statement too. Can you describe him?"

"Um. You can check with Goku, but I think his name was Vegeta. He's fit. Very fit. Dark spiky hair. Really intense eyes. High pretty cheekbones."

Krillin paused and glanced up at her. "…Pretty cheekbones?"

"Yes."

"Oh my god," Eighteen groaned.

"What?"

"You think he's cute!"

"I did not say that," Bulma scoffed.

"You pretty much did."

"You kind of did," Chi-Chi agreed.

"I… You know what? Fuck you both. You weren't there and besides, he saved my life."

Eighteen and Chi-Chi exchanged a look and burst into sniggering laughter.

"What?" Bulma sulked.

"You have the absolute worst taste in men," Eighteen told her.

Bulma threw one of her pillows at her. "You're terrible friends and you can all leave now."

"Yeah yeah yeah, we'll let you get your beauty rest."

They said their goodbyes and Chi-Chi and Eighteen promised to visit in the morning. As soon as they left, Bulma realized how utterly exhausted she was. She tried to find the most comfortable position to sleep in, her eyes falling one last time on Vegeta's top before she drifted off.

~xox~

Vegeta walked back into the lifeguard tower right as Kakarot was finishing a call.

"That's great news, Chi-Chi, thanks for the update!"

Vegeta made a b-line for the sink and turned the water on to rinse his hands.

"Hey, Vegeta. Remember the girl you rescued this morning, Bulma? She has a few minor injuries but otherwise should make a full recovery, thanks to you."

Vegeta grunted at the news. He rubbed the dried blood off his knuckles, watching the water swirl red down the drain. "If your friend had half a brain, she never would have put herself into that position in the first place."

"Who, Bulma? She's actually really super smart."

Vegeta scoffed. "That's not saying much coming from you."

"I'm serious. Her company makes millions."

Vegeta scowled, not sure what to make of that. It was hard to imagine the delicate half-naked woman, who'd been shivering in his arms, running a fortune-500 company. "…How do you know her?"

"We grew up together."

Vegeta didn't know why but that left a bad taste in his mouth. He scrubbed his knuckles more violently.

"But we don't really see each other as much since attending different colleges."

That made him feel a little better for some reason he couldn't fathom. He turned off the faucet and grabbed the antiseptic spray.

Kakarot approached, his face scrunching with concern. "Whoa, what happened to you?"

"Nothing, just cut myself up on the reef."

Kakarot eyed the wounds. "Vegeta, that doesn't look like a reef cut."

Vegeta glared at him, his eyes heavy with warning until Kakarot got the message and let the matter go with a sigh.

"You need a bandage?"

Like he'd trust Kakarot with his health. "I'll do it myself. Where's Broly?"

"North end of the beach."

"Good. Glad to hear someone's doing their fucking job. Go patrol the south. The tide will be going out soon and some idiot's likely to get caught in a rip."

"Sure thing, boss."

Kakarot jogged out of the hut to look out for drowning victims.

Vegeta snatched up a roll of bandage and sat down at the look out post. Raditz was in the next seat over, observing the beach with a pair of binoculars. He glanced at Vegeta from the corner of his eyes. "So…Where's the dead body?"

Vegeta flexed his swollen knuckles. "No dead bodies. Just dealt with some ocean trash that was long overdue to be thrown out."

Raditz smirked and went back to watching the beach while Vegeta bandaged his hands. The blue of the afternoon sky was almost the same color as the woman's hair from that morning. If he'd done his job right, she would be the last victim of those two dirtbags.

No one fucked around on his beach and got away with it.

~xoXox~

AN: I miss summer already. Also I had 'Baywatch' playing in the background while I was doing some chores, and it reminded me that I wanted to do a lifeguard AU, so I indulged.

(Broly's fascination with the ice cream truck is an idea I got from one of Nala1588's illustrations, back in July when I first suggested there should be a Saiyan-lifeguard AU and she blessed us with her interpretation of that.)

This was meant to be a one shot, but I'm already writing more. HELP.