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Friends	By : ladyvegeets Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ or the characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know. No profit is being made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.25 - Fear

Sporty and competitive, Vegeta was in his element playing beach volleyball, making wild lunges to keep the ball in play and landing devastating spikes on the other team. Bulma watched him play with great admiration. He was also surprisingly gentle with her when she served the ball from his shoulders, keeping his hands firmly on her thighs to help her balance, and helping her down to her feet before he’d dash off to get into the thick of the game. His enthusiasm and skills were impressive, rivaled perhaps only by Goku’s.
After Vegeta’s first scoring spike, Bulma held up her hand.
“What?” he asked her with an odd look, staring dumbly at her hand.
“It’s a high five, you dunce,” she drawled.
“Oh.” Vegeta hesitated, then tapped her hand.
He’s never had a high five before. She made it a point to continue high fiving his every little success throughout the game. It didn’t take long for him to come to expect them, even going so far as to turn towards her when he won a point, seeking her outstretched hand with a proud smirk. It made her heart flutter to see him look for her, to have him come to her for a pat on the back.
When Bulma scored a point, letting a wild hit send the ball out of bounds, Vegeta ran over to her, offering his upraised hand. “Nice call, Briefs.”
“Thanks,” she said with a blush, tapping his hand. He was congratulating her now? Who was this Vegeta?
Vegeta hit the ball hard over the net. Goku, the only one on the opposition that had a prayer of returning Vegeta’s spikes dove for the ball, but he was too late. Goku fell, taking a large mouthful of sand for his effort.
Vegeta doubled over, laughing loudly, clutching his belly at the ridiculous sight. Everyone stopped and stared, and Bulma realized it was the first time they’d seen Vegeta really cut lose. He had tears in his eyes he was laughing so hard at Goku, barely able to stand.
Goku spat out sand and laughed along with Vegeta, always good natured, even when he was the butt of the joke. “Good one, Vegeta! I’ll get you back for that.”
“You can try,” Vegeta called back, his eyes dancing with amusement and the thrill of the challenge. Bulma smiled as her hand went to rest over her heart - over the dragon charm - overjoyed to see Vegeta was fitting in. One of them.
They easily won the volleyball game, and she gave Vegeta a big hug as she cheered in delight for their victory.
“We let you win, for your birthday,” Krillin called sourly.
“We’ll have a rematch whenever you like,” Vegeta snarked back, his hands on Bulma’s waist, returning her hug.
“Well, what now?” Chi-Chi asked as they packed up the net.
“How about the cliffs?” Goku suggested. “Vegeta still owes us a lesson.”
They all agreed and picked up their belongings to move closer to the cliffs. The cliffs themselves weren’t that tall, high enough for a challenging climb, but not so tall as to be life threatening if someone fell, although it still wouldn’t be advisable to do so, without risking a broken bone or two. It would be a challenging climb for a novice, which is exactly what Bulma was.
She nervously watched as Vegeta traversed the cliff, making it look easy. It brought back memories of when he’d paid her a late night visit to warn her against Zarbon. Vegeta had climbed up to her bedroom then, even having done so with a broken rib. His strength and agility really was remarkable.
Everyone applauded as Vegeta reached the top of the cliff, and the other boys eagerly found their own places to start climbing up, having watched Vegeta and feeling confident they could copy him.
“You gonna try?” Chi-Chi asked her.
Bulma looked at the cliff dubiously. “I doubt I could make it all the way.”
Chi-Chi shrugged and then started to make her own way up, determined to prove she was as good as any of the boys. Bulma watched as Vegeta barked down advice and insults to the MMA team as they climbed. She started to feel left out, watching everyone else climb, leaving her behind at the bottom of the beach.
“C’mon, Bulma!” Goku called down to her, already half way up.
“Yeah, you can do it!”
“It’s easy, Bulma!” The guys all cheered. Bulma bit her lip and looked up to the top of the cliff where Vegeta was crouched, observing them. He looked at her but said nothing, neither encouraging nor discouraging her, his face impassive. Bulma was suddenly filled with the overwhelming desire to not disappoint him, to prove herself equal. She frowned with determination and marched up to the cliff, finding her first finger holds, and started to climb.
It was easier than she thought, at first. The cliff face had many grooves and bumps with which to accommodate her, and she was able to move up a few feet before her fingers even started aching. But a few more minutes and her arms were getting tired. How the hell was everyone else doing this so easily? She must be doing something wrong, because her arms were trembling and her hands were damp with sweat.
“Put your weight on your legs and hang, don’t try to do it all with your upper body strength!” Vegeta called down to her, or at least she thought it was him, as the wind had picked up and her breath and heartbeat were so loud in her ears she could hardly hear.
“Keep going, Bulma, you’ve got this!” someone else cheered her on from far away. Raditz maybe, or was it Goku?
Bulma persisted, but the further she climbed, the harder it was to find grip-holds within her reach. She looked down to see how far she’d gone, but that was a big mistake. She was higher than she thought, too high to comfortably jump down, at least in her opinion. Starting to tremble, Bulma looked up instead, but the top of the cliff still seemed impossibly far. Everyone was so much farther ahead of her, and Goku was nearly to the top where Vegeta was. Bulma swore under her breath, kicking herself for her own stupidity. Why was she here, trying to show off at something that was clearly out of her skill set? Give her sudoku puzzle any day over this macho, Tarzan rubbish.
Refusing to be beaten, Bulma bit her lip stubbornly and managed to scale up a few more feet. Everything ached now, her shoulders were in agony, her limbs shaking in exhaustion. She had no idea what Vegeta had meant about hanging, and honestly was too afraid to try. She reached out, stretching her arm for a new hand hold that was just an inch out of her reach… - and slipped. She yelped in fear as she fell. She slid down the cliff, scraping against the rocks before she finally grabbed on, stopping herself with a terrified squeal.
“Bulma, are you okay?” someone called down, the wind barely carrying the words to her. Her heart was drowning out all other noise, beating a frantic tattoo in her eardrums.
Oh my god. Oh my GOD. Oh my god… The words cycled over and over in her mind.
She was terrified. She was exhausted. She was stuck.
Bulma heard her friends call to her but she couldn’t even find it within herself to answer them, as if admitting she was scared and helpless would only solidify how utterly fucked she was. All she could do was cling to the cliff face, immobilized by fear, refusing to advance or retreat, too scared of what would happen if she tried. She knew she had to move, but she couldn’t seem to will her fingers to uncurl from their hold.
“Bulma! Hang on!” Goku cried down, already climbing towards her. She screwed her eyes closed, as if by sheer force of will she could imagine herself out of this situation.
Goku was soon at her side. He tapped a spot on the cliff. “Look, there’s a spot here, Bulma. Use this.”
Bulma didn’t even look. She shook her head, adamantly refusing.
“It’s okay, you’ve got this,” Goku encouraged, and he reached out to help move her hand.
“D-don’t touch me!” she said shrilly, terrified that if she moved even a little, she would fall again. “I can’t, Goku, I can’t!”
“H-hey, no problem,” Goku said, his voice surprised at her sheer terror. “Just climb on my back and I’ll carry you down.”
Bulma shook her head again, feeling tears of frustrating sting her eyes. She couldn’t move. She knew, deep down, that this was illogical, but knowing it and believing it were two totally different things. She was petrified, her body not responding to her will. It occurred to her that she might have developed a phobia of heights, or at least, falling down cliffs. I’m such an idiot, she wailed to herself.
“You could jump down, it’s not that high,” Goku suggested, still trying to help her, bless him.
Bulma shook her head slowly in defeat, knowing there was no way she’d willingly jump. Overwhelmed, and feeling like an idiot, she pressed her face into the cliff and started sobbing.
Panicked, Goku looked up. “Vegeta!” he called desperately.
Bulma barely noticed, crying and using what little strength she had to keep herself in place. A few minutes later she heard Goku again. “Hey, Bulma, it’s gonna be okay. Look down.”
She shook her head, still weeping miserably, her whole body shaking, fatigued.
“Bulma.” The voice was firm, no nonsense, and familiar. Bulma sucked in a wet breath and forced herself to open her eyes and look down. Vegeta had climbed down and now stood on the sand beneath her, looking up at her, his expression stern. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, from worry or annoyance she couldn’t tell. Probably both, knowing him. He met her eyes unflinchingly. “Jump,” he told her.
“I c-” she started to protest, but he cut her off.
“Yes, you can. I’ll catch you.”
Doubt filled her, she was so high, and scared. What if he dropped her, what if she was too heavy, what if-
“Bulma, trust me.”
She looked into his eyes and he stared back at her resolutely, and held out his arms.
She swallowed. She didn’t know if it was his words or tone or presence, but something about him calmed the terror that was clawing her from the inside out. She trusted him. If Vegeta said he’d do something, he’d do it. Bulma steeled herself, knowing she had to do this. She wasn’t a wimp, she was a strong girl… a strong girl who couldn’t hold herself on the cliff for much longer. She closed her eyes, feeling Vegeta’s silent presence beneath her, and with a long, shaky exhale, she pushed off-
And fell-
And he caught her, just as he said he would. Bulma landed in Vegeta’s arms with a shrill yelp, her heart pounding in her chest so wildly she was afraid it might give out. Somewhere she thought she heard Chi-Chi cheering.
Bulma looked up at Vegeta, her eyes wide with fear, adrenaline still buzzing through her. He looked down at her with a small smile. “Gotchya.”
Bulma huffed out a tiny, terrified laugh and buried her face against his neck, still quivering from her ordeal. She clutched at him as if he were the only solid thing in her life and she never, ever wanted to let him go. I’ll never go near another cliff again, she promised herself.
He held her tightly. “You fell from higher than this before and survived,” he chided her gently.
“Sh-shut it,” she mumbled back, still clinging to him.
“You’re such a pain,” he replied, but his odd tone made her peek at him. She expected to see a look of annoyance, but instead she saw something much softer. He was looking at her kindly, almost adoringly. It made her forget to breathe, and all the fear seeped out of her, her heart clenching oddly.
“Vegeta…” she whispered, surprised that he’d let his mask slip, that he was looking at her so openly. She was glimpsing something so rare, seeing the real Vegeta behind the grumpy, aloof, hostile facade he showed the outside world, a protective layer he’d worn for so long it had almost become who he really was. But here she saw a young man, filled with feeling, with joy and affection and a care-freeness she’d never imagined Vegeta would be able to experience.
She loved him so much that it hurt.
She stared at him, amazed at what she witnessed, and saw the amazement echoed in his own eyes as he regarded her in turn.
“Ahem!” Chi-Chi cleared her throat from nearby. “Get a room you two.”
His guarded look fell back into place, and Vegeta flicked Chi-Chi an annoyed scowl. “Fine with me. This party is done with anyway.”
“What? But we have fireworks,” Chi-Chi protested.
The group looked at Bulma, and Bulma looked at Vegeta. She gave him a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him.
He grunted and reluctantly set her down.
They gathered their belongings and once more set up their blankets to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, waiting for sunset. Bulma sat with Vegeta, still needing a minute to relax and calm down after her fright, feeling a little silly about the whole thing now that she was safely on the ground. Everyone else started swimming, enjoying the water. It looked like a lot of fun.
“Would you just go in already if you’re going to be making those wistful eyes the whole time?” Vegeta finally snapped at her.
Bulma looked at him in surprise. “What? No, I’m fine here. With you,” she added with a warm smile.
He gave her an agitated look. Then he stood, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She yelped. “VEGETA. Wh-what are you doing?”
“Getting you wet. Again.”
Bulma blushed, his innuendo causing her brain to fritz. They were halfway towards the water before she could react. “Wait, Vegeta, I’m not ready. It’s going to be too cold. Vegeta, put me down, Vegeta!”
Vegeta ignored her, wading into the water, holding her over his shoulder as she wriggled and begged. When he was waist deep in, he paused. “Ready?”
“NononoNONONON-”
He heaved her off, dumping her unceremoniously into the sea. Bulma shrieked, tumbling in, the cold water swallowing her. When she found which way was up, Bulma stood up, water sloshing off her, and she glared up at him, shivering, completely drenched and furious. “GOD DAMN YOU, VEGETA, I SAID-”
He smirking at her in that way, cocksure, deeply amused, and predatory. His arms were folded over his chest, and his eyes burned her, raking over her shivering, wet body. His lips peeled back, flashing teeth as he took in the sight of her, and Bulma forgot what she’d been going to say.
“You were saying?” he prompted cruelly.
“You’re such an ass,” she grumbled, blushing and looking away.
Then something brushed against Bulma’s leg and she squealed, jumping onto Vegeta’s back.
“What the- damnit, Bulma, what are you doing?” he snapped agitatedly.
“SOMETHING TOUCHED ME OH MY GOD GET ME OUT, GET ME OUT!” she shrieked, clinging to his neck from behind, her legs about his waist.
“It’s probably just seaweed!”
“EWWWWW OH GOD DON’T SAY THAT, GROSS.”
“You eat seaweed!”
“VEGETA!” she wailed.
Vegeta sighed and grabbed her legs, settling her more comfortably on his back as he started wading them back towards the beach. “You’re such a baby. I didn’t hear you complain when we were in the water earlier.”
He spoked a little too loudly and Chi-Chi overheard. She flashed them a curious look. “Since when were you guys in the water before?”
Bulma blushed furiously and scowled at Chi-Chi’s knowing smirk.
They settled in on the beach and started a campfire as the sun set, the evening growing cooler. Bulma sat close to the fire, trying to fight off a shiver from the chilly sea breeze. “Here, dumbass,” Vegeta said gruffly, and he threw his top at her. Bulma pulled it on. It was soft, far too big, and smelt just like him. It was perfect.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him affectionately.
“Tch,” he replied, but the sound held no vehemence, and she even thought he looked a little pleased. Bulma nudged her way into his embrace, and they sat cuddled by the fire, wrapped up in each other. They stayed that way as the guys let off fireworks.
The colors exploded brightly in the vast, dark sky, reflected on the sea water below like brilliant, glittering diamonds. It was magical. It was the best birthday she’d ever had, and Bulma fought back the urge to cry she was so happy. Perhaps he sensed her mood, because Vegeta hugged her tighter, and Bulma put her hands over his. She traced a love heart on his hand with her finger.
In response, he gently kissed the back of her neck.
She could have died happy then, and she melted into him as they listened to the whistling fireworks and the lapping waves.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

The rest of the summer passed peacefully, but as fall approached, with the MMA tournament looming over them, a tension started to grow. Vegeta began training twice as long and hard, barely breaking for food or rest, whether Goku joined him or not. Bulma would have protested except she knew how important this tournament was to Vegeta, knew he had to get stronger, not to die, but to live. The outcome of this tournament could change everything for them.
Which is why, one day, Vegeta took a break from training and suggested they leave the house to scope out the tournament’s location. He had the chauffeur take a very convoluted route, watching the traffic behind them to ensure they weren’t being followed. When they arrived, Vegeta walked around the event center’s parking lot, looking at everything with a critical eye, trying to find… something. He finally stopped in a small, back parking lot, shielded on all sides by bushes. He looked up at an overhead security camera.
Bulma stared up at it with him. “What are we looking for, Vegeta?” she asked, his grim mood making her anxious.
“There,” he said, nodding at the camera. “Do you think you can hack those?”
“The cameras?” Bulma asked, surprised.
Vegeta nodded.
Bulma brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, squinting at the camera. She smirked and looked back at him confidently. “Hell yes I can, in my sleep. It’s one of ours. See the logo?” she pointed, a little Capsule Corp symbol on the side.
“Good,” Vegeta said. He looked around to ensure they were alone, then lowered his voice. “This is where the handoff will likely be.”
“Handoff? For the illegal betting?” she asked, looking around. It made sense. This parking lot was out of the way, far more private than the others. There was only one entrance too, which could easily be blocked off, shielding this place from onlookers.
Vegeta nodded again. “We need to get a copy of the security footage before Frieza pays off someone to wipe it. Then we’ll have a bargaining chip over him.”
Bulma nodded; that would indeed be a powerful weapon to have over Frieza. Bulma felt her heart flutter with nervous excitment.
Vegeta was looking at her, assessing her reactions. “You can do it, right?”
“Of course I can, who do you think you’re talking to?” She said with forced arrogance. “I’m Bulma Briefs, not just a national beauty, but a genius too. If you want the cameras accessed remotely, it’ll be done.”
He continued to look at her, his expression still grim. “Good. Because this is very important. If anything goes wrong and we don’t get that footage, we could be royally fucked, you, me, our families, your friends. Fucked,” he stressed.
Bulma thinned her lips. “I got it. I’ll ‘hack’ the cameras, I can probably have it done by tonight just to put you at ease, how about that?”
Vegeta’s mouth curled up in the hint of a smile. He nodded, once. “Good. Do it.”
They walked around the perimeter of the center one more time, Vegeta getting a lay of the land before they headed home.
Bulma was able to access the security camera feed without an issue and without alerting anyone. Vegeta was pleased, but Bulma could still sense a hidden uneasiness within him. It was as if he carried around a pent up energy that he couldn’t burn, not that he didn’t try, working out at every opportunity that he had. He didn’t even let up when summer vacation ended and school started up again.
Bulma was busy too, needing to study for once since she’d taken some online college courses this semester. She started doing her homework in the gym, half studying, half watching Vegeta abuse himself by using the equipment and going through MMA exercises until he was quivering from exhaustion, slick with sweat from head to toe. By the end of his sessions he always looked on the verge of collapse, barely able to drag his aching body across to a vending machine where he’d crack open a sports drink and empty the entire contents in several large gulps. Then he’d stumble to the bathroom and shower, emerging later to look slightly less drained and a lot more refreshed, but Bulma could see the weariness drag at him. And then he’d insist on taking her to bed, and she felt guilty that he’d be so attentive to her needs despite his fatigue. If she tried to insist they only cuddle, he’d growl at her and throw himself at her with even more ardor until she learned to shut up and accept it was just his way.
Afterwards, when he’d pass out next to her, utterly exhausted, a large, possessive arm thrown over her narrow waist, she’d watch him sleep, letting her eyes trail over the shape of his face, the line of his nose, the furrow of his brow, his dark lashes flush against his cheeks. He looked so young yet so world weary. She wondered if the pressure of the tournament, of facing Ginyu and Frieza, was becoming too much for him, but there was little she could do to alleviate that pressure other than to be positive and supportive.
She tried to make him feel better by helping him nail down their plans, but he didn’t seem interested in doing so, at least not with her. “Why are we going over this again? Didn’t you pay attention the first three times?” he snapped at her. Of course she’d paid attention, the plans were imprinted in her soul.
Vegeta was to fight in the tournament. Outwardly, it would appear that he and the others were just a bunch of school students, representing their school in an MMA bout, totally unaware of the illegal gambling that went on behind the scenes. Vegeta’s odds to win were low, so Bulma would place a large bet on him to when. If (when) he won, they would bargain with Frieza, giving the money up to buy Vegeta and his father’s freedom.
“And… if you lose…?” she finally found the nerve to ask Vegeta. She didn’t want to undermine his pride, but this was a risky plan, they had to have all their bases covered.
Vegeta snorted. “If I lose, then he’ll only have more money to hand off in front of the cameras that you’ll be watching, like I told you. If we can’t buy my freedom, then we’ll have the security footage to blackmail Frieza for it instead.”
Bulma nodded, even as she was still filled with doubts. “What if he escalates matters?” she asked, nervous. “What if something else happens that we aren’t prepared for?”
Vegeta grabbed her arms, giving her a cocky smirk. “It won’t. Don’t worry. Besides, I’m not going to lose.”
But she did worry. And despite his apparent confidence, Bulma felt like Vegeta worried too, which is why he didn’t want to discuss the plans further, and why he threw himself into his training, and their sex, with an almost feral desperation, as if to hide a deeper insecurity, as if by sheer brute force he could make everything work out. But where he lived in denial, Bulma lived in doubt. Were they doing the right thing? Would it be enough? Should she have asked for help? She could still tell someone, her father perhaps, but Vegeta would loath it if she did, and likely feel betrayed, and it would only endanger her father if they tried to bring him into their loop. No, she had to pray that Vegeta knew what he was doing, that he knew this underground world better than she did, and knew how to handle the consequences.
All she could do was trust him.
And then, before they knew it, the eve of the tournament was upon them.
They had their final MMA training at the school gym, Piccolo giving the team a pep talk and instilling in them the importance of a good night’s rest. Bulma’s stomach was in knots. She and Vegeta walked home, the silence strained between them, both of them thinking about the upcoming day. Vegeta took her hand, and she saw the blue leather band still wrapped around his wrist. The sight of it oddly reassured her.
As they turned the last corner for home, Vegeta suddenly came to a stop. Bulma looked at him to see why, and noticed him looking at something in the distance, his eyes narrowed.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice trailing off as she saw what had caught his attention. A familiar black car was parked down the street, poorly too, half up on the curb as if the driver had been drunk or in a hurry. Or both. Bulma felt herself stiffen in worry, stepping closer to Vegeta. “Is that…?”
Vegeta’s mouth thinned, unhappily. He tore his gaze from the car to look at her, letting her hand go, his expression serious. “Go inside. I’ll check it out.”
“Vegeta,” she protested, reaching out to curl her fingers in his shirt, scared. If it was Zarbon, she was afraid. The last time Vegeta had met Zarbon, he’d almost been killed. “Let’s just go inside,” she insisted.
Vegeta’s gaze pulled back to the car, unable to let it go. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone - not the one she’d given him. The sight of it made her uneasy, she knew he had another phone, but she’d never seen him use it before. It’s appearance worried her more than Zarbon’s car did. He looked at her, seeing the dread in her eyes. “I’m going to make a call,” he explained. “I don’t think Zarbon’s even supposed to be watching me anymore. He could be acting against Frieza’s orders. Go inside and wait, I promise I won’t be long.”
Bulma felt her gut twist with worry. She didn’t want to leave him, worried he wouldn’t come back, worried something awful would happen, but he gave her a stern look that wouldn’t be argued with. She fought back her anxiety, putting on a brave front. “Okay. But you’ve only got 5 minutes, then I’m calling the police,” she told him stubbornly.
His mouth curled up, his expression softening. He reached up and brushed his thumb against her cheek, leaning in to touch their brows together. “Trust me.”
Bulma let out a shivering breath, helpless to deny him that. She gave him a weak smile and nodded, then turned to head inside. She looked over her shoulder, watching as Vegeta stepped towards the road to get a better look at the car, his cell phone already to his ear as he made a call.
Bulma shut the front door gently behind her and headed upstairs to her room. The house was quiet and dark, her parents out of town on a business meeting. Bulma opened her bedroom door, stepping in, turning on the light-switch. As the white light filled the room, it illuminated an unfamiliar figure sitting on her bed. Bulma let out a short scream, startled by the sight. Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes going wide. It took a few seconds for her brain to process what she saw - Zarbon, although he was almost unrecognizable. Where once there had been a proud, strong man in the prime of his youth, now sat an emancipated, hollow shell of a person. He’d lost weight, and his hair looked greasy, unkempt. His eyes when he raised them to take her in were red rimmed and unfocused. He gave her an unsettling, lilting smile.
“Welcome home, love,” he growled.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~
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