Part 2
Finally, Vegeta got up, and scooped Bulma up in his arms. One hand behind her back, one under her knees, he carried her sliently up the stairs to her room. He glanced at the clock beside her bed; 10:30 pm. Pushing that ridiculous bear off her bed, Vegeta pulled back the covers and laid her gently between the sheets on her side, facing away from him. Without thought, he climbed in beside her, and lay on his side facing her, his huge arms around her. She put a hand on his arm, and for just a few minutes, he closed his eyes and relaxed.
A sudden knock made the tension return to his body in a rush. He turned his eyes to the door. "Bulma, sweety? Are you asleep?" It was that baka of a mother of Bulma's. Vegeta froze. What if she came in? What if she saw him in Bulma's bed? Without thinking, he released Bulma and climbed swiftly out of her bed, replacing the covers and hiding behind the door just as Bulma's mother came in. She kissed Bulma on the forehead softly, then turned and walked back towards the hall. For one paralyzing moment, Vegeta thought she'd seen him. But she continued out of the dark room, and he waited until her footsteps vanished down the hall. Then, he slipped into his own room, heart pounding. He slid down the wall into a sitting position, impossible thoughts running through his head.
He'd never be able to sleep. What he wanted more than anything else, more than anything he'd ever wanted, was right across the hall. He'd never be able to sleep.
Vegeta crawled into bed, and tossed and turned, finally falling into a shallow sleep in the early hours of the morning.
He woke early, and went to have a shower before going in for a hard two hours training session at intense gravity levels. After he had busted every attack droid that worked, he went back inside. Bulma was sitting at the table, her hair mussed from sleep, sipping a latte. She was still in her pajamas. She smiled when she saw Vegeta. Standing up, she said nervously "Er, Vegeta.. I wanted to thank you for cheering me up last night." He only grunted, and yanked open the fridge door to get something to drink, but he waited for her to say more. She didn't.
Vegeta took a deep breath, thinking I can't believe I'm about to do this, then turned around and pulled Bulma towards him. He put a big arm around the small of her back, another on the back of her head, running his fingers through her soft hair. Tenderly, even for him, he put his lips to hers. For a moment, she just stood, frozen, in his embrace. Then, tentativly, she kissed back, gently nibbling on his lower lip.
A sudden sound from the front door made them pull apart fast. Mrs. Briefs came in with the milk bottles to find the two of them standing about ten feet apart, looking embarrased and guilty. Vegeta quickly busied himslef with a glass of lemonade, and Bulma pulled out a hairbrush and started to comb through her messy hair. "Hey Mom." said Bulma.
"Good morning, Bulma!" said Mrs Briefs said merrily as she put the bottles in the fridge, then pulled out an envelope from her pocket. "Yamucha wrote you." she said, handing the letter to Bulma.
Bulma ripped the envelope open and glared at the letter as if it were Yamucha. "Arrggh! That stupid jerk!" she said angrily, stuffing the letter into the garbage before stomping up the stairs, the hairbrush still in her hand. Mrs Briefs shook her head. "Poor dear." she said before becoming busy with a frying pan. "Eggs and bacon, Vegeta?"
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Yamucha was sitting on his front porch, trying to enjoy the bright sunshine on his face, but not really enjoying it. He was nervous. He hoped that letter he'd sent to Bulma hadn't made her mad. Of course, knowing Bulma, it probably had. She had too much of a temper. It was just that... They'd been fighting so much lately that Yamucha had thought it would probably be better if they were apart for a little while. Just to give them both a chance to think things over, to be able to speak to each other without screaming. That phone call last night had been awful. He'd been so mad that he'd just hung up when she'd started to rant.
This morning, he felt cooled off but worried. "D'you think she got the letter?" he asked Puar, who was sitting on the porch railing above him. "Don't worry, Yamucha." said Puar affectionatly. "I'm sure she did."
Finally, Vegeta got up, and scooped Bulma up in his arms. One hand behind her back, one under her knees, he carried her sliently up the stairs to her room. He glanced at the clock beside her bed; 10:30 pm. Pushing that ridiculous bear off her bed, Vegeta pulled back the covers and laid her gently between the sheets on her side, facing away from him. Without thought, he climbed in beside her, and lay on his side facing her, his huge arms around her. She put a hand on his arm, and for just a few minutes, he closed his eyes and relaxed.
A sudden knock made the tension return to his body in a rush. He turned his eyes to the door. "Bulma, sweety? Are you asleep?" It was that baka of a mother of Bulma's. Vegeta froze. What if she came in? What if she saw him in Bulma's bed? Without thinking, he released Bulma and climbed swiftly out of her bed, replacing the covers and hiding behind the door just as Bulma's mother came in. She kissed Bulma on the forehead softly, then turned and walked back towards the hall. For one paralyzing moment, Vegeta thought she'd seen him. But she continued out of the dark room, and he waited until her footsteps vanished down the hall. Then, he slipped into his own room, heart pounding. He slid down the wall into a sitting position, impossible thoughts running through his head.
He'd never be able to sleep. What he wanted more than anything else, more than anything he'd ever wanted, was right across the hall. He'd never be able to sleep.
Vegeta crawled into bed, and tossed and turned, finally falling into a shallow sleep in the early hours of the morning.
He woke early, and went to have a shower before going in for a hard two hours training session at intense gravity levels. After he had busted every attack droid that worked, he went back inside. Bulma was sitting at the table, her hair mussed from sleep, sipping a latte. She was still in her pajamas. She smiled when she saw Vegeta. Standing up, she said nervously "Er, Vegeta.. I wanted to thank you for cheering me up last night." He only grunted, and yanked open the fridge door to get something to drink, but he waited for her to say more. She didn't.
Vegeta took a deep breath, thinking I can't believe I'm about to do this, then turned around and pulled Bulma towards him. He put a big arm around the small of her back, another on the back of her head, running his fingers through her soft hair. Tenderly, even for him, he put his lips to hers. For a moment, she just stood, frozen, in his embrace. Then, tentativly, she kissed back, gently nibbling on his lower lip.
A sudden sound from the front door made them pull apart fast. Mrs. Briefs came in with the milk bottles to find the two of them standing about ten feet apart, looking embarrased and guilty. Vegeta quickly busied himslef with a glass of lemonade, and Bulma pulled out a hairbrush and started to comb through her messy hair. "Hey Mom." said Bulma.
"Good morning, Bulma!" said Mrs Briefs said merrily as she put the bottles in the fridge, then pulled out an envelope from her pocket. "Yamucha wrote you." she said, handing the letter to Bulma.
Bulma ripped the envelope open and glared at the letter as if it were Yamucha. "Arrggh! That stupid jerk!" she said angrily, stuffing the letter into the garbage before stomping up the stairs, the hairbrush still in her hand. Mrs Briefs shook her head. "Poor dear." she said before becoming busy with a frying pan. "Eggs and bacon, Vegeta?"
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Yamucha was sitting on his front porch, trying to enjoy the bright sunshine on his face, but not really enjoying it. He was nervous. He hoped that letter he'd sent to Bulma hadn't made her mad. Of course, knowing Bulma, it probably had. She had too much of a temper. It was just that... They'd been fighting so much lately that Yamucha had thought it would probably be better if they were apart for a little while. Just to give them both a chance to think things over, to be able to speak to each other without screaming. That phone call last night had been awful. He'd been so mad that he'd just hung up when she'd started to rant.
This morning, he felt cooled off but worried. "D'you think she got the letter?" he asked Puar, who was sitting on the porch railing above him. "Don't worry, Yamucha." said Puar affectionatly. "I'm sure she did."