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My Bulma...

Summary:

Sometimes Vegeta steals some time to think of Bulma, and the feelings she provokes in him. He loves her, even if he has his own way of saying so.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

It was honestly cute, in his opinion, not that he’d ever say that aloud. No, he’d likely have Kakarot shoot him straight in the foot first than ever voice such a thing to Bulma. It’d go straight to her head, and take away the simplicity of his enjoyment in her antics. Vegeta only even wandered into her lab to say good-bye, as he was going with Whis and Lord Beerus to train for the next week or so. He was meant to be out in the yard where lunch was taking place nearly twenty minutes ago, but he felt no need to rush as the pair were no doubt stuffing their faces at the moment. He silently stood with his arms crossed across his chest, shoulder against the doorframe as Bulma captured his eyes and mind. Though he may not be the most open of his affection toward the Earth woman, she did mean quite a lot to him to a point where it almost consumed him. He made damn sure no one knew he cared that much, it could be the undoing of him and he knew that far too well. 

 

Some annoying pop song was rattling his eardrums, though Bulma was completely unphased, shuffling and sorta dancing to the song as she gathered her desired tools for whatever project she was conjuring up at the moment and to Vegeta, it was undeniably warming to watch. He’d been standing there for some time, simply watching his wife do her little dance walk, or shimmy her hips as she bent over into the depths of a machine. If the chorus was to her liking, she’d sometimes sing along, all while unaware of Vegeta’s presence. He kept it that way, he’d say his goodbyes when the woman took a break for some ridiculously sweet snack he made sure she always had in her cabinet she was certain he knew nothing of. She was undeniably beautiful in this type of state, Vegeta thought to himself. She was in her own little universe, unaware of the world around her aside from her machines and disgusting earth pop songs, and Vegeta found it completely endearing. He couldn’t stand her tastes in music, but he never complained about them in fear he’d not get to catch her in her element like this ever again. 

 

Vegeta had been observing her for what felt like only seconds though no doubt much longer in reality and she had not sensed his presence in the least. Or maybe she had and was simply that comfortable around him. Such a thought sent an odd feeling in his chest, one that he’d long ago associated with the woman. Bulma was humming and nodding her head, digging through a pile of tools, slightly rocking to the music and Vegeta remained silent. She was an observant woman, the only person he knew  that could ever really read him, yet she was too trusting. That worried Vegeta a tad, hell she slapped a destroyer god for interrupting her party. He smirked to himself in remembrance of the moment. She was unmoving, hard-headed, stubborn, and at times near maddening with her motivation. Yet she was also caring, soft, and genuine… She spoke her mind plainly and never made Vegeta guess what was bothering her. He appreciated her qualities, he loved her for them, for her feminine charms, and her unwavering faith in him. 

 

She was shimming her hips, doing a bit of a goofier dance to the tunes she blasted, kicking her foot a bit and wavering her hand, nearly dropping a handful of wires and bolts. Vegeta let an amused breath leave his nose, she was clumsy at times, yet graceful even then. She was as stunning to him as the time he had first really noticed her. Bulma ended up dropping her bolts, letting out an annoyed huff as she tried to stomp one to prevent it from bouncing away.

“Damn oily hands,” she sighed, and Vegeta took in that yes, the woman was smudged in grease and oil. “You little guys certainly roll far,” she said, scooping them up and hunting them all down. After having gathered them all, she placed them on a tray near a large machine. She was back to humming as the next song rolled into the air around them. If Vegeta closed his eyes and maybe pretended hard enough, he could imagine she was outside on the balcony of their bedroom, the wind gently rustling her hair and the almost short nightdress she’d wear when she wanted Vegeta’s attention. He could clearly see her coy smile when she’d look over her shoulder to see him, silently inviting him to come out with her and share the stars. He always did. 

 

When he opened his eyes, he watched the concentrated face of his wife as she screwed something in the giant metal object, watching with an almost soft look as her tongue poked out of her lips in concentration and focus. Bulma was brilliant, by every means, there was absolutely nothing Vegeta could ask that she didn’t have an answer for, or would find him an answer within a week. The training rooms she’s built him, upgrading the regimens and bots whenever she noticed he was breaking more than normal as his strength increased. She was near flawless, he felt. Her temper would at times rival his own, but he knew well enough that she meant well, she spoke from her heart and at times her anger came from fear… and fear for him, at that. 

 

“Hah! That should fix that damn bug!” Bulma cheered, and Vegeta watched her scramble down from her ladder and rush to the desktop, the clacking of keys joining the sounds of her music. Evidently, it was her answer cause she gave a dramatic sigh of relief, springing to her feet and openly dancing a bit more dramatically in joy to the annoying sound of some earth female singing about lights. Vegeta could melt watching her, she brought a sensation to his chest that was almost painful like he’d surely be unable to exist or cope if he didn’t get to steal these little moments to keep him going. She was back at a pile of junk, or at least that’s what Vegeta saw it as. She was very fond of the saying “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” but he suspected that was her way of saying it was probably trash. 

 

“How adorable,” Whis said, chuckling to himself as he held his fingers to his cheek in amusement, looking into the ball of his staff. 

 

“What is?” Beerus grumbled, tapping his foot in annoyance, “Where the hell is he? Isn’t he aware how rude it is to keep a destroyer waiting?!” He demanded, picking his teeth with his nail. 

 

“He’s at Bulma’s lab, observing her work, or rather her,” Whis answered, walking with his Lord down the halls to where their usually angry Saiyan friend was. 

 

“What? You mean he’s been making us wait for almost an hour to gawk at his wife?!” Beerus snapped, scowling in annoyance. 

 

“It would seem so, my Lord,” Whis hummed, clearly amused. They fell silent as they reached their destined hall, just out of Vegeta’s view where he stood against the door frame. 

There was a soft, and obviously fond look in his eyes, his usual tense, and stiff posture was relaxed and at ease as obnoxious music blasted in the room, leaking out into the hall. Well, Beerus was a bit curious as to what someone like Bulma could be doing to completely captivate one of the universe's angriest beings. He tiptoed dramatically with Whis so that they could see beyond Vegeta and peer into the lab beyond him. Bulma was evidently unaware of her anyone's presence, seemingly working and somewhat dancing along to the music around her. 

 

“You mean to tell me you’ve kept us waiting for almost an hour to watch your wife act a fool?!” Beerus suddenly snapped, causing Vegeta to freak the fuck out, and nearly blast Beerus out of instinct alone. 

 

“What the hell are you two doing here!?” Vegeta shouted, catching Bulma’s attention who immediately scrambled to shut the music off and confront her unexpected guests.

 

“Why we were looking for you, Vegeta,” Whis laughed, “you’ve been missing for some time and my Lord grew tired of waiting for you to show up,” he said, amused. 

 

“Yes well, I was simply bidding Bulma goodbye, we can go now,” he scowled, and crossed his arms angrily, though Whis suspected he was more embarrassed than anything else. 

 

“I thought you left like an hour ago, Vegeta,” Bulma said, walking into the hallway where the other three stood. 

 

“We were supposed to leave an hour ago!” Beerus snapped, “apparently loverboy here didn’t set his alarm!” he scowled in annoyance.

 

Vegeta let out an undignified sound, clearly a bit offended at such a term being directed at him. 

 

Bulma quickly put two and two together, beaming as she blushed dramatically, “Vegeta were you spying on me cause you’re going to miss your beautiful wife?” She more or less accused than asked. 

 

“Be quiet, woman I was doing no such thing!” Vegeta squawked, scowling at her. 

 

Bulma laughed, clearly rather pleased as she looked at Whis, “he’ll be with you guys in just a moment, I had some stuff I wanted him to take with him before he left anyway,” she smiled, clearly shooing them off. 

 

“It better be something edible,” Beerus scowled while Whis laughed merrily, and began to retreat with the destroyer. 

 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Vegeta,” Bulma said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around him, a happy little blush on her cheeks as she squeezed him warmly. Vegeta hesitated a moment, even now after all this time, almost reluctant to accept forms of physical affections, but found himself encasing her, a hand on her upper back and the other on the back of her head. He moved to tilt her chin up, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against hers and holding the gentle display for a few seconds before withdrawing himself from her. Bulma looked near tears, and Vegeta worried he’d done something to upset her, but she held a look of joy in those watery eyes. 

 

“Emotional woman,” he teased lightly, while she grinned and slapped his arm. 

 

“Let’s go!” Beerus yelled from the end of the hall, evidently having had enough of the ridiculous pair. 

 

“My Lord, how rude,” Whis sighed, as Bulma shot them an angry look, heading into her lab to retrieve a small pink box and placing it in Vegeta’s hands. The two murmured something between themselves a moment more before Vegeta was heading towards the two deities. 

 

“Geeze, it’s about time,” Beerus griped before Vegeta silently handed him the box Bulma had given him. Immediately the destroyer was keenly gushing about the prospects it held, while Vegeta silently focused on Bulma’s near-silent energy as they left the building. 

 

“I finally steal a romantic moment with you and those two have to come and ruin it,” Bulma grouched as she placed the small cake box in Vegeta’s hands. 

 

“You know I’ll return, and you shouldn’t speak ill of him… He could still wipe out our existence,” Vegeta replied. 

 

“Yeah, yeah… But for now, I’m their main source of good food so I’m sure I got a bit of leeway,” Bulma said with a coy smile, “I love you, Vegeta,” she said, placing a palm on his cheek. 

 

“Troublesome woman,” Vegeta huffed in amusement. He locked eyes with her, gently removing her hand from his cheek, “my Bulma,” he said softly, turning away and heading in the direction of the two deities waiting for him. 

 

That memory held his heart in warmth as he left Earth, and spent the next many days training with the destroyer, Whis, and Kakarot. At times when he was spared a moment for his thoughts, it was the first one that came to him as the image of her look of adoration filled the view of his mind's eye… 

My Bulma... 




Notes:

Writing soft fics to fight my own loneliness