Chapter 4

“No.” Vegeta said sternly. Kakkorrot was scratching the back of his neck, confused. Bulma and the two lads were in Vegeta and Kakkorrots’ dorm - arguing (of course).

Bulma pouted. “But you have to! It’s in the syllabus, you can’t get out of it.”

“I can and I will.” He grunted.

“Nah-ah!”

“I beg to differ.” Vegeta growled.

“You have no choice.” Bulma snapped. “You have to join a club.”

“I don’t want to!” Vegeta yelled in response.

“There are loads of clubs that you might actually like!” She insisted. “Art club, Manga club, robot club, fight club and don’t forget-”

“What was that last one?” Vegeta asked.

“Fight club?”

“Yeah.” Vegeta considered. “What does it involve?”

“You have to know at least the basics in some sort of fighting art and you’ve gotta sign something that goes on about legal shit.”

“Legal?” Vegeta considered. “Like, if I hurt someone badly then they can sue?”

“No, they can’t sue.” Bulma informed him. “That’s the point. If you get beat up it’s your own fault.”

“Sweet!” Kakkorrot exclaimed.

“You’re an idiot.” Vegeta muttered.

“Who, me or him?” Bulma narrowed her eyes at him. “Answer carefully.”

Vegeta thought about it. “Both.”

“So, you’re gonna join?” Bulma asked hopefully.

“Why not.” He looked away. “Who’s in the fight club?”

“Oh man, we’ll have to talk about this later.” She groaned, gaping at her watch and slinging her bag on her back. “I told Yamcha that I’d meet him at the pier.”

“Yamcha’s just a freak on hormones.” He snorted.

Kakkorrot jumped up. “I second that motion!!”

“Why Kakkorrot! That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day.” Vegeta muttered. “But the fact you’re also going out on a date tonight cancels that out, so you’re still technically an idiot.”

“A date?!” Bulma cried out. “With who??”

Kakkorrot blushed. “...Chi-chi ...”

“Did she lose a bet or something?” She asked.

“No!” Kakkorrot jumped up, his tail twitching with embarrassment. “I asked her if she’d go out tonight and she said yes! She’s so pretty! I want to marry her!” He started to dance and sing while Bulma wondered silently what had effected the change in his attitude all of a sudden.

Kakkorrot leant towards Vegeta, singing still. Vegeta had only one thing to say.

“Shut up, Kakkorrot.”

~*~

Bulma waited for nearly an hour in the wind. It was humid and the sand from beach kept blowing up into her face. Her hair was in shambles - she might as well have left it down. Eventually, Yamcha showed up.

“Hey sweetheart.” He greeted her with a warm hug. “You look great.”

“Whatever.” She muttered. Her hair bobble had been blown out of her hair and was floating somewhere in the ocean. “I recall you saying something about dinner at 6 o’clock? It’s 10 to 7.”

“Well, you know I like to make an entrance.” He grinned.

Bulma smiled back and laughed. “Quit stealing lines from movies, that’s so lame!”

“If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” He continued.

“Now that was just corny.”

“All right, I suck, I know.” He laughed too and looped his arm through hers. “Let’s get to this restaurant, shall we? A nice romantic-”

“Friendly.” Bulma corrected.

“- fine, a nice friendly dinner in a posh little booth on a quaint little cliff. Sound nice?”

“You certainly spare no expense in making a friend comfortable.”

“You don’t have to keep saying ‘friend’.” He looked hurt. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

She laughed and pecked his cheek. “C’mon, let’s get to this little dream place of yours.”

~*~

Bulma wrapped the spaghetti around her fork. It was rather dryer than pasta should be and the sauce was absolutely tasteless. She felt like she was eating cardboard and water.

“Enjoying yours?” She tried to sound enthusiastic.

Yamcha nodded, tucking happily into his burger. “You?” He asked, spraying burger crumbs out of his mouth.

“Uh, yeah.” She sat back a little and pushed the plate away. It made feel sick just looking at it. “I think I’m done with mine.”

“Warned you the pasta was dry.” Yamcha muttered with his mouth full.

Bulma sighed, looking out of the window. Her dress wasn’t carefully chosen. The material was a purple cotton thing that flared out at the lower thighs.

~I wish Yamcha had taken me to a McDonalds or a Pizza Hut instead of being all fancy and coming here. He doesn’t know me at all. How can he be so romantic when I keep telling his we’re just friends. Does he really love me? I just don’t really know ...is Yamcha my soulmate?~

“Something bothering you, my sweet?” Yamcha finished his burger and his fries while Bulma had been pondering. “I finished while you were looking out the window, you must have something on your mind.”

“No, just ...it’s nothing.” She shook her head and smiled. “I’m a bit tired, lets go back back to the dorms.”

Yamcha paid - although Bulma offered to go halves - and led her out to his car. He let her in the passenger seat and swung around into the driver’s side.

“Flashy car.” Bulma noted.

“You betcha,” Yamcha boasted, “nothing but the best for the best - the best girl, that is.”

“Get off it, Yamcha.” Bulma smiled.

They drove home, talking and laughing but when they reached Bulma’s place, he didn’t stop. He kept going untill he got to his.

“Yamcha, my dorm was that way.” She moaned.

“I know.” Bulma felt a little uncomfortable. “Where’s Chi-chi tonight?” He asked.

“She’s on a date with Goku, she told me they’d be kinda late-” Bulma regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

“Late, huh?” Yamcha grinned. “Well then lets be late too.”

“Yamcha, I want to go home.” Bulma ordered, frightened by the tone in his voice.

“Aww, don’t be a spoilsport.” He whined. “Come upstairs for a few minutes, just a few. I have a surprise for you.”

“Ok,” she said in a wavering voice, “but only a little while.”

Yamcha smirked and got out of the car. He opened her door and took her hand. She pulled it away, coldly. “No, Yamcha.”

Yamcha’s flat was the third floor up: it was a dangerous journey up the stairs. They were very narrow, being that of a private flat and not the college dorm. He opened the door.

“Sit down.” He said brightly, gesturing to a nearby sofa. “I won’t be long.”

Yamcha went into a room down the hall with a curtain over the door and rustled around in there for a few minutes. At long last she heard the door open.

“So, what’s the surprise?” She asked.

“See for yourself.” Yamcha remarked.

Bulma sighed irritably and turned to look at him. She was so shocked that she knocked over a lamp on the side table.

He was stood there, stark naked with open arms.

“So baby, how’d you like your surprise?” He breathed in deeply making his well muscled chest (though not as well muscled as Vegeta’s) rise and fall.

“I don’t, and I’m going home, even if I have to walk.” She huffed.

Yamcha took a few light steps towards her. “Hey, cool it, sweets. Just let Yamcha do his thing; you’ll love it, I promise.”

“No, get away from me!” He grabbed her wrist as she struggled, “Let go of me!!”

“Come on - what are you, a virgin or something?! Grow up you frigid bitch.” Yamcha snarled, trying to kiss her. His free hand rose to grab one of her breasts.

“Help!!” Bulma screamed.

Yamcha’s lips connected with hers and prevented her screaming.

He pulled away. “I’m not gonna rape you but I am gonna get what I want, so I suggest you just relax.”

An idea came into Bulma’s head. “Yeah, sure. It’s just sex.” She backed away a little as he loosened his grip. “So I’m just gonna sit down over here and-”

Yamcha let his gaurd down.

“-KICK THE FUCKING SHIT OUT OF YOU!”

She banged her knee into his groin and punched him in the eye. He tried to double over but Bulma’s knee connected again, this time with his nose. She let herself out of the appartment as he rolled around in pain on the floor.

~*~

Vegeta pushed the bike further. About 3 minutes previously, he had recieved a frantic phonecall from Bulma pleading him to pick her up. She gave him directions and urged him to hury. He saw her as soon as he turned the corner. He called her name and curbed the bike in front of her.

“What the fuck is going on?!” He demanded.

Bulma stood, cold and scared. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest and her head bent low. Vegeta saw a trail of tears down her cheek. He took off his jacket and threw it to her. She accepted it gladly and wrapped it around her shoulders. Wordlessly, Bulma stepped towards the bike.

“How do I get on again?” She asked weakly.

“You haven’t answered my question.” His voice softened. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I’ll tell you later.” She stuttered in a whisper. “P-Please, just take me home.”

He shrugged and hoisted her on the bike in front of him so he could keep a hold of her. “Hang on.”

~*~

~So, monkey-boy reckons he can move in on my girl?~ Yamcha thought to himself. He had watched the earlier discourse between Vegeta and Bulma from the corner, undetected. All rational thought was gone his mind and he was convinced that Bulma and the prince were in some sort of love.

~No. That won’t be happening. Bulma, I will make you mine.~

Ooo, what is Yamcha going to do?! Um ...in all honesty, I have no idea ... Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out before the competition finishes and finish the whole story after the competition in a sequel thing. ^_^ hey! I actually sounded like I knew what I was doing! 0.0 Did I say that out loud? Oh well, til nexties!
~Jemma the English Lunatic.