capsulecorp: (bulma11sexiestdrummer)
[personal profile] capsulecorp
It's been a few days since he destroyed her television. Which is fine. Whatever. She bought a new, got it installed, fine. She's gotten the hole in her wall fixed too. She even managed to get his precious Gravity Chamber fixed which means she can get him out of her hair for a little bit. Which is good. It gives her time to work on other projects in her labs. She does have a business to run, after all.

The problem is he keeps creeping into her thoughts when she doesn't want him to. How weirdly jealous he had behaved that night. Sorry. Not jealous, possessive. Whatever the hell that meant. Half the time it seemed like he couldn't even stand her but he thought he had some weird claim over her?

It's not that she's never entertained the idea before but it's a bad idea for a lot of reasons not least of all him having an ego that almost rivaled her own.

She decides it's time for a break, exiting her lab to go outside to smoke a cigarette. He always bitched too much when she smoked in the house. Something about the smell offending his sensitive Saiyan sense of smell.

She taps the cigarette to let some of the ash fall. Really, that was almost reason enough to do it, sometimes.

Date: 2015-01-30 04:28 pm (UTC)
saiyan: (} wasted it all just to watch you go)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
His answer is to lift up into the air and do exactly that: hover. Literally hover near her, even though she hasn't even started on the repairs.

Date: 2015-02-04 01:19 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} i had to fall to lose it all)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
"If your eyes are that damaged, maybe I don't want you working on my gravity room."

His gravity room, as if he didn't park his spaceship on her property and it isn't currently filled with state of the art Capsule Corp technology, some of which is experimental and not yet on the market. Vegeta isn't a fool. He knows that she's likely monitoring now much the room can take for marketing purposes. If it's durable by Saiyan standards, then used in human industry, it would be able to withstand more damage than anything else could.

Really, she should thank him for not saying anything about being a guinea pig.

Date: 2015-02-06 12:40 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} i had nothing to say)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
"Yes, but would you have gotten this far if you didn't have me testing it out for you?" Vegeta points out, though his tone is oddly professional and lacking the malice it out to have contained upon pointing out that he's essentially a glorified crash test dummy. "Who else do you know, besides the Namekian and that bumbling idiot, Kakarot, who could push your equipment to such extremes? One would be unwilling to assist and the other's harpy would have forbidden it."

Date: 2015-02-08 04:03 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} something i've wanted all along)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
Vegeta snorts, because he refuses to acknowledge whether he is or he isn't. They've already established that he finds her appealing — or, at least, in his mind he's made that much clear, but most people don't inform people that they find them fascinating enough to keep (hanging) around by declaring a sense of extraterrestrial possessiveness.

He tried. Kinda.

Touching his boots back to the ground, Vegeta stops hovering and moves to sit next to her on the floor.

"I take it you would protest were I to train around your repairs?"

Date: 2015-02-08 04:57 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} i am a little bit insecure)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
It's true; he does indeed recognize it as her 'why so insane?' look. Granted, she's probably as familiar with his #confusion face as he is with this one. She baffles him enough on a daily basis for her to be well acquainted with look that speaks questions without the need to voice any of them.

He huffs irritably and reaches for one of her tools, a pair of needle-nosed pliers that he grabs by the pliers part instead of the handles.

"Then tell me how I can help make this go faster."

Date: 2015-02-08 05:30 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} i've felt this way before)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
Vegeta frowns, flipping the pliers over in his hand. He grabs a hold of the handles, one in each hand, and makes a show of opening and closing the pliers, watching intently as if the simple motion of the tool is the most fascinating thing he's seen in a long time — or maybe he just expects it to do something other than that.

"These are broken."

You don't even know what that is, Vegeta. Don't declare things you don't understand broke.

Date: 2015-02-08 07:20 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} haunting how i can't seem)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
"That's it? That's all they do?"

And just like that, he dismisses them. How simplistic the task they perform is takes away from the mystery and wonder of it all. Pinch, grab, cut... He could do that with his own two hands. He didn't need a tool for that. What a letdown.

"How do you expect to get anywhere with things that barely do anything at all?"

Vegeta picks a screwdriver out of her toolbox and drops it back in.

He is the most helpful assistant.

Date: 2015-02-08 07:40 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} not the way i had imagined it)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
Another snort, this time more indignant. "I can do what they do just as well—"

He reaches forward, grabs a handful of exposed wires, and yanks.

Power flickers inside the space ship turned gravity room before everything goes black.

Good job, moron.

Date: 2015-02-08 07:53 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} thoughts were spinning in my head)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
"In case you hadn't noticed, since you were the one who built this faulty contraption—" Faulty? Vegeta, you're the one who busted the power. "The door doesn't open automatically. So unless you want me to blast my way out, which I can, there will be no getting out."

Even if he is hungry.

...great, now all he can think about is food. Curse this woman.

Date: 2015-02-08 08:10 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} not that you knew me back then)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
He grumbles in the dark that surrounds them, but takes it from her, pointing it at her face.

"I'm the Prince of all Saiyans. I think I can handle a flashlight."

Nevermind that he had no clue what a flashlight was up until about a month ago when her mother showed him how to use one. He insisted he didn't really need one, but she'd shoved one into his hands anyway, then proceeded to usher him out into the yard to help her find the cat. Really, he'd only helped to get the brainless woman to leave him alone.

Date: 2015-02-09 03:07 pm (UTC)
saiyan: (} 'cause we're living at the mercy)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
The flashlight's dropped to the ground as Vegeta moves in, dangerously close. His nose is very nearly brushing against the tip of her own, but Vegeta doesn't need the dim light the flashlight's currently projecting in the opposite direction to see her.

"Are you mocking me, woman?"

Date: 2015-02-13 04:42 pm (UTC)
saiyan: (} and the fault is my own)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
Vegeta's hand lands on her throat. He pushes her onto her back and leans over her. This is the first time he's ever dared to lay a hand on her, let alone touch her. But although he shoved her back, his touch is almost gentle, contrasting against the harsh look on his face that she'd be able to see if the flashlight hadn't rolled away from them.

"I don't need an Earthling's permission."

Date: 2015-02-14 02:30 am (UTC)
saiyan: (} until my wounds are healed)
From: [personal profile] saiyan
It's true. Vegeta could easily kill her. He could circle her throat with his fingers, and it would be over before she had time to comprehend what was happening.

But he won't. And he's beginning to suspect that she knows that, even if she seemed as baffled as he was by his proclamation of possessiveness days prior. She didn't understand what it meant, and Vegeta wasn't about to delve into why he gave so much of a damn about a weakling human who was only good for building and fixing things. Bulma was kept around because she was useful, yet it was very important that she was useful to him and only him.

His fingers and thumb splayed out against her collarbone, framing the base of her neck. The hands on his chest do nothing to move him, though he doesn't push against them so much as take them as a sign to keep his present distance. (If she protested or put up a fight, he'd withdraw, and he suspects she knows that, too. Damn her.)

"It wouldn't take so long to fix if you had given me proper instructions in the first place."

Things are never his fault — ever. Especially when they are.

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Bulma Briefs

September 2015

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