**EDIT 2-26-2010: A/N—freshly cleaned and polished! Enjoy! **
And finally—a revenge fic, because all of you who read Pickles seemed to want it. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Let's Go!
~*~ Hattiakourri ~*~
Composure
The summer sun shimmered above, bright and boiling hot, its merciless grip chasing away the high clouds and billowing breeze that made the steamy weather even remotely tolerable. Even the hardiest of the citizenry had retreated inside to wait out the blistering heat—after all, it must be scorching indeed if a Saiyan would be driven inside to seek the solace of air conditioning.
The Great Demon King Piccolo, however, didn't care. The desolate conditions only made his hideaway on the lawn more tranquil, allowing him a bastion of meditative quiet by the water shed and the tea roses. It was the ideal spot for his pensive brooding.
Concentrate…
…
Concentrate…
His mind, however, wasn't going to cooperate.
CRUNCH!
'Goddamn it,' he mentally hissed, the echo of the ghastly noise ricocheting around his brain, scattering what precious little pearls of calm his mind had collected. 'Stupid, pickle-munching Saiyans!'
The veins beneath his skin writhed on his biceps out of irritation. He snorted, his frustration flushing his face a deep emerald. How juvenile… how old IS he, anyway? Five?
..short enough to be five…
He was the Great Demon King. He was composed, wise. He was dangerous.
He was above such juvenile behavior…
…wasn't he?
At precisely 12:30 in the afternoon, Vegeta was heading out the backdoor of the residential building, trekking across the green lawn. Despite the withering heat, he felt good enough to salvage a decent afternoon training session out of this miserable day. He shuffled down the granite pathway towards his beloved GR, lost in rambling thought, until he heard a most peculiar noise...
ssssssSSSSSSHHHHH!
Vegeta was caught unaware when the high-volume lawn sprinklers suddenly roared to life, blasting him down on all sides with sheets of chlorinated city water. His freshly changed clothes, now sopping wet, hung from his lean frame, but that wasn't the worst part of his appearance. The once-proud flame like crown of his hair now hung around his shoulders, tangled, limp and dribbling water… like his eyebrows. And his scowling face.
The vengeful Saiyan, wearing a grimace that could freeze liquid magma, slowly turned to the presence he sensed behind him on the lawn, his thoughts leaning towards disembowelment or paralysis. When he did catch sight of the perpetrator, however, he was speechless.
Well… not that speechless.
"That was YOU?! Grow up!" He hissed, storming by the Namek on his way to the GR.
Piccolo's expression had never changed from his usual stern visage during the confrontation, but he couldn't help but chuckle after the soggy Saiyan lumbered off, looking like a drowned kitten.
A minute passed by…
"Oh, God DAMN it!!!" Vegeta screamed, storming past Piccolo back toward the house, clawing at his skin, looking for all the world as if he had fleas. "I swear, Namek—when this is over, I'LL KILL YOU!!"
After the Saiyan retreated inside, the Demon King gave into the urge to chuckle at his misfortune. Piccolo hadn't known beforehand that Vegeta would have a skin reaction to the chlorine, but he wasn't sorry—he felt that it just made it funnier.
Earlier, he had thought himself incapable such juvenile conduct.
Was it dignified? Likely not…
…but the Demon King was entitled to do whatever the hell he pleased.
*fin*
"Hey, Geta, do you need some flea powder?"
"NO!!! SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!!!"
*lol*