Chapter Text
Vegeta sat alone in the large kitchen in Capsule Corp. He speared the last bites of his waffle and stared around the room. It had been oddly quieter than typical. Usually by now the woman’s mother would arrive offering more food or talking about some nonsensical soap opera as she called it. Though he didn’t understand what would be so interesting about soap doing opera considering it was just a bar of animal fat that you’d cleanse with. How could it perform opera anyway?
He shook his head, biting the last bite off the waffle before standing up with the plate in hand and walking it towards the sink.
He hadn’t seen or heard the woman’s parents at all.
Turning on the faucet, he washed the plates then set them off to dry to the side.
He didn’t even hear the irritating woman yet. By now she would march in, wearing something entirely too vulgar and complain about something or another. Lately the topic was that idiotic fool she kept around. It seemed like he was always the subject of disappointment and she was always allowing it. It was ridiculous, she could have any choice and she kept him.
“Achoo!”
He heard a sneeze from the room down the hall. Almost sounded like the woman’s lab. It should have been no surprise that she had been there. Most days she practically lived in that lab.
“Ah….Ah—Achoo!”
The second sneeze was immediately followed by a cough.
His brow furrowed.
The woman was loud. Irritatingly loud. Yet the sound had been oddly strained. Turning towards the sound, he made his way to her lab, then he saw her.
Bulma’s cheek pressed up against her hand, dark circles under her eyes and redness bloomed across her nose. She grabbed a tissue and blew hard, then threw it into a waste bin below her. Her fingers tapped away at the keyboard in front of her, sniffling a few times as she did so. The woman looked defeated.
Vegeta leaned up against the door frame watching her for a moment longer. Giving her the chance to realize the horrid state she was in and retreat to rest. It did not happen. He misunderstood how truly stubborn she could be, a mistake he would not make again.
“Woman.” He said, finally.
Bulma turned towards him, jumping a bit in surprise. “Vegeta! You scared me!” She placed a hand on her chest. The words came out nasally and congested. She looked even more pale while facing him. Possibly the woman’s mother would be a good nurse for her if she did not come to her senses.
“Where are the others?” He asked.
Bulma sighed, turning back to her work and continuing to type. “I thought you needed me, thank goodness you don’t because I am not in the mood to fix a grumpy Saiyans broken battle drone right now when I have all this work.” She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose once again. “You’re going to have to wait for them though, they’re on vacation for a few weeks.”
He sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t need them. You might, you need rest.”
Bulma rolled her eyes. “Vegeta, I don't need rest, I'm fine.” A chill traveled up her spine and she shivered violently at the sensation. “Ugh… It’s freezing in here.” She whined.
“It’s freezing because you’re sick.”
“No! It’s freezing probably because you lowered the thermostat you’re always playing with it. I’m sorry you’re hot blooded beyond human comprehension or whatever but I on the other hand don’t do well in iceboxes.” She shivered again, holding her arms and brushing over them in an attempt to try and warm up.
Vegeta’s eyebrow twitched. He unzipped his black hoodie with capsule corps logo on the chest and walked up behind her draping it over her shoulders with a heavy sigh. “The thermostat is at 72.”
Bulma blushed slightly as warmth from the hoodie settled around her shoulders. Stilling a bit before her hands pulled the fabric tighter over her. “Nuh uh.” She pouted. “Find that hard to believe.”
“Believe what you’d like, woman. I’m not going to baby you. Rest. If you do or don’t doesn’t matter to me.” He sneered before stomping off.
“Thank you.” Bulma said, quietly.
Vegeta stilled at the doorframe, looking over his shoulder. Something in his chest tightened at the sight of her sincere eyes and her soft nasally voice. The way her hair was just a little more disheveled than normal.
Stubborn woman.
“Hmph.” He turned away and left.
Later that day Bulma continued to work, and Vegeta continued on his training regimen, followed by a hot shower. He dressed, did his own laundry, just as she’d taught him which was more trivial than when he was at the PTO but nonetheless didn’t need her or her interns to touch his clothes. He walked past her office towards the kitchen, hoping to silence the persistent grumbling in his stomach. As he passed, he heard the woman talking on the phone.
“Heya Babe!”
The spineless worm. Yamcha.
Bulma’s voice answered, quiet and strained. “Hey, how are—“
“Oh man! You look awful! You sound awful too!”
Vegeta stopped in the middle of the hallway.
What kind of fool opened a conversation with that? The woman was obviously ill.
Bulma sneezed a few times in a row. Then blew her nose into a tissue. “Yeah…Thanks… I’m just not feeling too hot today, it must be because of the change of weather.”
“Damn! Well I was going to see if you’d want to go out tonight. Maybe it’s best if you stay home. Need me to bring you anything?” Yamcha asked.
In the background Bulma could make out the sound of a girl giggling softly. Normally she would have given him the third degree if her head wasn’t suddenly beginning to spin. She rested her forehead into her hand, placing the phone down.
“Umm yeah. Maybe soup? From my favorite spot?”
Vegeta scoffed, continuing to make his way towards the kitchen and look through the cabinets. Truth be told, there was barely anything left. Most of the food in the kitchen required actual preparation, a skill he had never found necessary to learn.
A woman on the phone giggled again in the background this time louder and Yamcha shushed her, raising his finger towards his lips. “Yeah yeah sure babe. Hey I’ll talk to you later bye!”
In seconds the phone call ended and Bulma slunk her back into the soft black leather of her chair. She tried focusing her eyes back on the screen of her desktop but suddenly everything was upside down. “Ugh…Gods…” She rubbed her eyes with her palms, then she sighed deeply before attempting to stand up. She took a few slow steps towards the hallway but stopped in the middle of the room, unable to see properly as nausea steadily crept up on her.
Unease set inside Vegeta as he reached into the cabinet pulling out a box of macaroni. He didn’t hear her at all. Yamcha had frequently screwed up by allowing other women to so casually take his attention and normally the woman would put the imbecile in his place. Though this time she was simply silent.
He placed the box of macaroni down on the counter. Unable to ignore it further he walked back towards her lab. When he made it there he watched her staring blankly at the floor, unbalanced and wobbly.
“Woman?” He asked with far too much concern than he should’ve.
“I-I can’t see, everything’s upside down Vegeta.” She tried taking a step forward but missed her footing and came hurling forward. But instead of a cold hard floor she felt warmth envelop her in strong arms.
“You’re going to bed.” He said flatly.
With an irritated sigh, Vegeta bent down and scooped her up as though she weighed nothing at all. One arm hooked securely beneath her thighs while the other settled across her back.
Bulma let out a small sound of surprise before instinctively curling closer to his warmth.
“Put me down.”
“No.” He said, while walking towards her bedroom.
As he walked, she allowed her head to fall against the warmth of his chest. Hearing his steady heartbeat in her ears. It was far more comforting than she should have admitted. It was a new found softness that was rare and far in between for him—still it was there. In little things, pointless things. Things she shouldn’t have paid any attention to yet for some reason she couldn’t help but notice. Things she couldn’t help but want to push further to see how much she could truly get away with. She wondered if it was the daredevil in her or the scientist.
“Lemme go back to work…” She huffed against him, closing her eyes.
He peered down at her, rosy cheeks, red nose and pale skin. His chest tightened painfully at the sight. Then tore his gaze forward down the long hallway.
“I didn’t think you could write reports while the room is upside down. Is that a new found talent of yours?” He gruffed.
Bulma chuckled softly in his chest. “Mhmm it is. Just give me a minute you didn’t have to carry me around. I'm not a baby.”
“Then quit acting like it.” He turned into her room and made his way over towards her bed. His free hand peeled away the sheets before gently settling her into the mattress.
Bulma opened her eyes as he pulled the blankets over her with unnecessary precision, tucking them beneath her shoulders before he realized what he was doing. It was a sight he had only seen in the ridiculous late night movies she insisted on watching together after his late night training sessions.
“Your hoodie kept me so warm, I’m keeping it.” She said playfully while smiling.
“No you’re not.”
“I’ll fight you for it.”
“You won’t win, dizzy.”
His stomach growled again loudly.
They both stilled for a moment before Vegeta spoke up.
“I’ll be back a moment, If you move I’ll—“
Bulma nodded. “Yeah yeah I know kill me and this mud ball of a planet blah blah blah. Stop threatening me with a good time already. I won’t go anywhere.”
Vegeta began to laugh before choking it down and making his exit.
A sick woman. A starving Saiyan.
It almost sounded like the start of a joke.
He stood in the kitchen, glancing down at the ingredients before him. Thankful that a cooking book was found in the pantry.
Chicken soup.
He had purged planets, surpassed his normal limitations of power, and planned battle strategies back on Namek. Yet, he was staring blankly at the cookbook with ingredients and instructions.
For her.
Because it had been obvious, that snot nosed fool wouldn’t follow through. He never had and besides all that he was starving. Obviously this had more to do with himself than the woman.
He swallowed before emptying the chicken into the pan, browning each side. Once it looked ready, he shredded it up with two forks. Then came the chicken broth, celery, noodles and carrots and allowed it to come to a simmer.
It had been a half hour and Yamcha never came. Not that he was surprised. That bastard never followed through for her when it mattered.
A week after he arrived here, when the woman allowed him to stay in her home. Bulma was working on a project in her lab and Yamcha was sitting by her, not paying much attention at all. Then a skimpy intern walked in to give her some business consult and he watched as Yamacha’s eyes lit right up at the sight of her.
The thought made him sick when the most fiery, intelligent, attractive woman was sitting right there in front of him. He had her and his traderous eyes glanced towards another.
Repulsive
When enough time went by Vegeta opened the lid off the pot and stirred the ingredients together while adding salt, pepper, garlic and onion powder. His pouring slightly heavy on the garlic and his eyes widened. Clearing his throat he took out a spoon from the drawer and tasted it.
Not horrible.
Though the taste of garlic seemed to overwhelm his tastebuds over the rest of the soup.
Then he grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge, placed them both in the pockets of his shorts. He took two bowls out from the cabinets above him and made his way towards her room.
When he arrived and placed the bowl’s down near her nightstand he noticed her phone light up.
Yamcha: Hey babe, can’t make it with that soup so sorry! I’ll see you tomorrow.
His eyes glanced over to her, she was sleeping softly.
“Woman.” He said just above a whisper.
She stirred in the sheets, breathing heavily.
He slumped into the edge of the bed, near her and turned around placing his hand on her cheek. “Bulma.” He said louder.
Finally she began stirring awake, and Vegeta quickly drew his hand away.
She blinked a few times at him. “Did Yamcha—“ she turned her head to the side and saw two hot steaming bowls of soup side by side. Her attention snapped back to Vegeta who was already picking up a bowl and slurping it down too quickly. When he killed it off he placed the empty bowl back on the night stand, then without hesitation grabbed her bowl.
“Sit up.” He ordered.
Bulma shifted herself so that her back was against the headboard. “That doesn’t look like soup from my favorite place… did you make this?”
He scoffed, placing the bowl in her hands. “Don’t worry about where it came from woman, now eat it.”
Bulma’s lipped pulled into a bright smile, sniffling from the steam below her. “Looks good, maybe except for the misshapen carrots. Obviously you had nothing to do with it.”
“Tch.”
She giggled, her eyes brightening. “Oh you absolutely made this” She stirred the soup around in the bowl a bit while his dark eyes watched her.
“Shut up. I was hungry and the clown you call a boyfriend didn’t follow through.”
“So you knew I wanted soup, and made me soup.” She couldn’t help but full on grin.
He turned away, his eyebrow twitching. “It’s all we had laying around.”
Bulma raised the spoon to her lips, and blew softly before taking a big bite. Vegeta turned back towards her. “And?”
She swallowed. “Hmmm… this might be my new favorite even if it is a little garlicky. You’ll have to make it all the time.”
He scoffed. “One time deal. This is all you’ll get.”
She settled deeper into the blankets, while she continued to eat. Her eyes never left him as he watched her eat. Pausing for a moment, the spoon clinked inside the bowl. “You didn’t have to do this. The hoodie, the soup, taking me to bed. None of it.”
“I can’t train if the gravity chamber breaks and no one is around to fix it.” He said.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Mhmm that’s what it is?”
“Obviously woman. I don’t enjoy hovering over you.”
Unable to stop himself he leaned over and placed the palm of hand against her forehead. He hissed sharply, drawing his hand back. “Damn it woman you’re hot!”
Bulma placed her finished bowl onto the nightstand. “Thank you.” She teased.
Heat bloomed up his neck and ears. “S-Shut up! What does your mud ball of a planet use to heal in times like this?”
Bulma leaned further into the pillows allowing her eyes to flutter shut. “Just need a nap and I’ll wake up refreshed.”
“Delusional add that to the list of symptoms. Where is it woman? I’m not asking, I'm demanding.”
Bulma chuckled softly to herself. “Asking where it is sounds like asking to me, bad man.”
“Stop calling me that.”
She peeked one eye open. “Stop pretending you don’t like it when I call you it.”
“If you weren’t sick I’d kill you.”
“So you want me to heal up so you can kill me? What kind of ridiculous morals is that?”
“I’m fair, I'll give you a fighting chance.” He snickered.
“Since when?” She asked with a grin on her face.
“Where. Is. It?” He said drawing out each syllable.
Bulma sighed heavily. “Bathroom cabinet, top shelf just give me a Tylenol to help get rid of this fever.”
“Only the fever?” He got off the bed, turning to look at her.
“Yeah it’s all we got I guess I may need some Mucinex for my stuffy nose but… that’s it.”
Vegeta scoffed as he began walking out. “Earthlings and your primitive medicine.”
Bulma smiled as she watched him leave. He had only been here for a few weeks but he was already a changing man than when she met him. Back then he was much more flighty and closed off. Train, eat, sleep. That’s all he did, it was like pulling teeth to get him to say anything else, or feel comfortable enough to just be.
Like at every waking moment he had to prove his own existence and there was room for little else.
Somewhere along the way, their routines had begun to overlap. Late-night movies after training. Ordering extra food because she knew he’d still be hungry. Listening to him complain about Earth while secretly enjoying the company.
She hadn’t even noticed it happening.
He was so scary to everyone else. Not to her.
When he returned he hovered his fist over her and she stretched her hand out with a smile. He dropped the pills into her palm and took out the bottle of water in his pocket, opening it for her and handing it over.
“You’re oddly good at this.” She took the water with her left hand, taking a swig before swallowing and then downing the pills, she took another sip.
“You’re oddly more infuriating when you're sick.” He said with a smirk as he snatched the bottle of water away from her again. “Get some rest. The longer you’re sick the longer I have to wait for my upgraded training bots.”
Bulma smiled sheepishly, closing her eyes. “That’s what this is about?”
He placed her water bottle down on the nightstand then looked over his shoulder and before he could respond she was already drifting off into sleep.
“Hm.”
A small smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it. Then he quietly slipped from the room.