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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
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Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.03 - Midnight Meeting

When Bulma returned to school the next day, no one had heard about her and Vegeta’s visit to the hospital, but everyone had heard about her break up with Yamcha. All her friends were ready with their condolences. Yamcha didn’t come to school, still upset over the whole ordeal, and he wasn’t the only absentee. In her advanced skills class, Bulma noticed Vegeta’s desk was empty too. It only fueled the rumors that Vegeta had been suspended for fighting Yamcha, but Bulma guessed Vegeta was staying home because of his injuries from the park.
At the end of class Bulma could see Mr. Popo eyeing Vegeta’s empty desk, a homework packet on his desk. Before he could assign the task to anyone else, Bulma approached him. “Sir, do you need me to deliver that to Vegeta?”
Mr. Popo’s eyes widened. “Why yes, that would be much appreciated, Miss Briefs. Returning the favor? He delivered your homework to you earlier this week, as I recall.”
Bulma smiled and nodded. She had to hide a victorious smile as Mr Popo handed over Vegeta’s homework packet. She was going to learn where Vegeta lived! The look on his face would be priceless. Ha! That would teach him for telling her that she couldn’t know where he lived when he knew her address. And if she was being honest with herself, Bulma was also a little bit worried about how Vegeta was recovering. She was accustomed to seeing her friends injured from MMA practice, but they’d never been hurt to the same extent she had seen Vegeta the night before. Even though he was a surly jerk, she was worried about him and wanted to make sure he was okay. She tried to tell herself she was only concerned because she had found him, and that made her responsible for his wellbeing.
Bulma followed Mr Popo to get Vegeta’s file, and she waited as he wrote down Vegeta’s address on a post-it note. Bulma kept the paper close the rest of the day. She was pleased as punch with herself for finding a way to get Vegeta’s address, not only to rub it in the boy’s face, but also because it was successfully taking her mind off her break up. That’s all anyone wanted to talk to her about. Lunch was especially awkward. All her friends were trying too hard to be extra cheery and talk about topics that wouldn’t remind her of Yamcha. It was sweet of them, but the unnaturalness of their banter only reminded her of her break up all the more, and Bulma hoped her friends would stop their act soon or she was going to have to hit them.
The last bell finally rang and Bulma said her goodbyes and hurried off to suss out Vegeta’s house. She looked up the address on her phone. “Sonovabitch,” she swore to herself. It was no where near her house. Vegeta had lied about her place being on the way to his. But why? Had he walked her back to her house to keep her from learning his address, or had he wanted to walk her safely home, despite his injuries? Were Vegeta’s actions born from being an asshole, or from misunderstood good intentions?
Confused and irritated at Vegeta’s enigmatic ways, Bulma double timed it over to his address. As she went the neighborhoods became less and less desirable, lawns unkempt, old broken down cars left abandoned in driveways and yards, boarded up windows and graffiti decorating many of the streets. Bulma gripped the strap of her backpack a little tighter and made sure her cell phone was ready in case she needed to call for help. She was starting to regret volunteering to bring Vegeta his homework.
Thankfully Vegeta’s house was the biggest and nicest looking one on his street. Bulma bolstered her courage and marched up to the front door and knocked firmly. After a minute she heard a lock turning and then the door swung open.
“Yes?” a tall, good looking man greeted her, his hair long and swept to the side in a ponytail. He was wearing earrings, one in each ear, unusual for a man. He looked at Bulma with polite disinterest.
Bulma hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself. “Um, is this… Is Vegeta here?”
The man’s expression instantly changed. His eyes flashed with interest, and he smiled, amused. “Vegeta? Yes. And who might you be?” He looked her over, from head to toe, his smile curling wider, darker. Bulma resisted the urge to step back.
She wet her lips nervously. “I’m Bulma. I’m a friend from school. I’m supposed to-”
“Vegeta!” the tall man cut her off, calling over his shoulder into the house. “Your girlfriend is here!” He looked back at her with a wicked glint in his eye.
Bulma blushed. Before she could deny the accusation she heard movement from within the house. Vegeta stomped over, grumbling something until he caught sight of Bulma. His reaction was instantaneous. Vegeta was beside himself with shock. He looked absolutely appalled to see her there.
Bulma had hoped Vegeta would be surprised to see her, but she hadn’t expected him to look dismayed. Bulma suddenly felt uneasy. Something wasn’t right. Vegeta didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be easily upset, so if he was upset then there was probably something worthwhile to be upset about. And boy did he look upset now.
Vegeta flashed the tall man at the door a frantic look, then glanced back at Bulma, his shocked expression quickly turning into a furious glare. “What the hell do you want?”
Bulma wasn’t prepared for such vehemence. Unsure what was going on, she held out Vegeta’s work packet uncertainly. “Um, the teacher asked me to-”
“Fine.” Vegeta snatched the homework from her hand and then slammed the door in her face. She heard raised voices from behind the door, growing fainter as the two boys moved deeper into the house. Bulma stared at the front door for a long while, trying to puzzle out what had just happened.
Finally, at a loss, Bulma turned around and meekly headed home.

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Bulma was in her bedroom brushing her hair in front of her vanity when she heard a soft tink against her window. She ignored it at first, thinking nothing of the sound. Then it came again. Tink. And again. Tink, tink. Curious, she got up and went to the window, opening it and looking out. Her mouth dropped at who she saw.
Vegeta was standing in her backyard, the fiercest scowl she’d seen yet on his face.
“Vegeta?!” Bulma whispered.
“I’m coming up,” he told her.
“Like hell you are!” she whispered back, but he ignored her and started climbing up her house to her window. He made it look easy. Bulma tried not to be impressed.
Vegeta swung smoothly into her room and shut the window behind him. She saw that he was sporting a black eye. He hadn’t had that earlier. It seemed all Vegeta was capable of was fighting. He was also rubbing his ribs as he looked around her room. He spotted the bedroom door. “Are your folks asleep?” he asked.
“What the hell are you doing here, Vegeta?” Bulma demanded, ignoring his question. Her parents’ room was on the other side of their very large house. There was no way they’d hear her or Vegeta, but she wasn’t about to tell Vegeta that, not until she knew why he’d forced his way into her room.
“What the hell am I doing?” Vegeta repeated, his attention swinging full force onto her, sounding furious. “What the hell were you doing today, coming to my house? I told you to stay away!” he shouted at her.
Bulma balked at his anger, but only for a moment. There was a reason many students had a healthy fear of Bulma Briefs, and it wasn’t just for her good looks, or smarts, or wealth. Bulma could argue with the best of them and then some. She gathered her anger, and boy did she have a lot after everything she’d been through this week.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Mister!” She snapped back at him. “You told me I didn’t need to know where you lived, but I did in order to give you your homework. Like you said to me, it’s your own stupid fault for not coming to school. You have some nerve telling me what’s appropriate when you’re the one sneaking into my room so late at night. What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“I thought you were a smart one!” Vegeta shouted back, undaunted by her anger. That was new for Bulma; most men cringed at her tirades, but Vegeta seemed unaffected. “Do you have any idea how stupid what you did today was?”
Bulma grit her teeth. “As a matter of fact, I don’t. Fancy that! Perhaps if some stubborn-headed asshole would actually tell me what was going on instead of just insulting me, I might actually know.”
Vegeta opened his mouth to reply, then stopped himself. He closed his mouth, glaring at her, thinking over her words. Seconds ticked by, and Bulma watched him struggle with himself. Finally Vegeta took a deep breath and let it out, and when he spoke his tone was calmer, if still strained.
“That guy today who answered the door. That’s Zarbon.” Vegeta looked away from her as he explained, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “He’s a relative, and his favorite past time is tormenting me. He’ll do anything to achieve that goal.” Vegeta turned to look directly at Bulma. “Anything,” he repeated solemnly.
Bulma felt a cold uneasiness grow inside her. “Come on, it can’t be that bad,” she said, half joking, half hoping.
Vegeta’s serious expression told her it was. “If he thinks you mean anything to me, he’ll target you just to mess with me. You need to watch yourself.”
Bulma sat down on the edge of her bed, suddenly scared. She didn’t want to believe what Vegeta was saying, but the candid way he delivered the news told her he wasn’t joking around. “You could have told me about Zarbon before I came to your place!” she said shrilly.
Vegeta huffed. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t! You were all grumpy and enigmatic! You didn’t say, ‘Bulma, my cousin will fuck you up if you come over, so stay away for your own good’, now did you?”
“Tch,” Vegeta huffed and looked away, scowling.
Bulma hugged her arms about her, feeling vulnerable. Silence filled the room.
Vegeta finally unfolded his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look… you’re probably okay.”
“Oh gee, great, thanks. ‘Probably’. That’s really reassuring!” Bulma mumbled miserably.
Vegeta curled a lip. “And you give me grief about my attitude?”
Bulma bit her lip, knowing Vegeta was right. She was lashing out because she was scared. She’d never been targeted before. She wasn’t strong or good at fighting like all her friends were, and now she didn’t even have a boyfriend to protect her, not that Yamcha would have stood a chance if even Vegeta couldn’t take on this Zarbon guy. “…Sorry,” she mumbled an apology.
Vegeta huffed and leaned against her windowsill. The silence stretched out between them again.
Bulma glanced up at Vegeta from under her bangs, looking at his sour expression and bruised eye. The injury only added to his bad-boy vibe. If only Vegeta wasn’t such a total jackass, Bulma figured he might have actually be attractive.
“Did you get into another fight?” she asked, desperate to change the topic and end the silence.
Vegeta flashed her a look, raising a hand to gingerly touch his eye. He scowled and looked away, not answering her.
A horrible, horrifying thought struck. “Did… did you get that because of me?” she asked softly. It made sense - Vegeta hadn’t been hurt when she’d seen him at his house only a few hours ago. If Zarbon had hit him just because Bulma had paid him a visit, it would certainly prove a compelling reason for Vegeta to want to warn Bulma of Zarbon’s ill temper.
Vegeta glared at her, his expression hard and unreadable. “And what if it was? Would you feel guilty?” He asked her snidely.
Bulma’s stomach knotted in on itself. “Yes,” she answered honestly, daring to return his stare.
Vegeta’s expression didn’t change. After a moment he lowered his eyes and gave her an indifferent shrug. “Well, don’t lose any sleep over it. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
Lies, Bulma thought. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Vegeta was lying to protect her. Or perhaps himself. Either way, she knew she was responsible for his black eye. She felt awful.
Bulma stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she said and headed towards her door. She paused, looking over her shoulder. “Don’t touch any of my stuff,” she added, and left her room. She headed down to her kitchen, wondering if Vegeta would even bother to stick around. She half suspected that he would slip out while she was gone. She wasn’t sure if that thought made her feel relieved or disappointed.
When she returned to her bedroom Vegeta was where she’d left him. Bulma held out her hand, offering him a package. “Here.”
Vegeta looked down at the cold, wrapped steak in her hand. “What the hell… It’s not even cooked.”
“It’s not for eating, stupid,” Bulma replied indignantly. “It’s for your eye.”
Vegeta looked up at her. “You don’t have any ice?”
Bulma huffed. “Ice is too cold, and hard. Here.” She approached Vegeta and reached out for his face.
Vegeta jerked his head back away from her, giving her a suspicious glare. “I can do it myself.”
“Would you stop being such a baby?” Bulma snapped back. She slapped the steak against his eye, harder than was necessary. Vegeta hissed, wincing, but didn’t cry out. He gave her a dour, one-eyed glare.
Bulma wasn’t intimidated. “I can’t believe you climbed up here with all your injuries,” she murmured, trying to be conversational as she treated him.
Vegeta huffed. “I’ve endured worse.”
She raised a brow. “Is that supposed to impress me?”
Vegeta gave her an arrogant smirk. “Are you?”
Bulma made an expression of distaste. “I’d be far more impressed if you didn’t get your ass handed to you.”
Vegeta’s smirk quickly died to be replaced by a sullen scowl. “…Waste of a perfectly good steak,” he grumbled, lifting his hand to take over from Bulma so she needn’t hold the steak against his eye.
Bulma leaned back, rolling her eyes. “Only if you throw it out. You can eat it after it thaws.”
“Can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Cook,” Vegeta admitted, staring down between them.
Bulma observed him carefully, trying to gauge his mood. “It’s pretty easy. You just put it in a pan and… cook it.”
Vegeta glared up at her. “Thanks for the lesson, that really cleared things up for me.”
Bulma poked out her tongue. Vegeta made an aggravated sound and looked away, still holding the steak to his eye.
The silence was broken by Vegeta’s stomach rumbling. They both looked at his belly. He glanced up at her, and she smirked at him.
His cheeks pinkened. “Shut it, Briefs.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Tch.” Vegeta kept his eyes, or rather eye, averted, looking embarrassed. Bulma cocked her head, still assessing him. He didn’t seem that scary now that she thought about it, seeing him standing in her room with a steak held to his eye, looking like a scrappy, lost child.
She stuck her hand out expectantly. Vegeta hesitated, then seeming to know what she was asking of him, reluctantly handed over the steak.
“Medium?” she asked.
“Rare.”
A short while later, Bulma returned to the bedroom with a freshly cooked steak. She’d put some salad and left over pasta on the plate and also brought both aa bottle of water and a can of soda for good measure too, unsure of Vegeta’s preferences. Vegeta’s brows rose at the sight of the meal, but he said nothing of the extravagance. He took it without so much as a thanks, but Bulma hadn’t expected any.
He wolfed into the food with startling ferocity, eating as quickly as he could get the food into his mouth. Bulma sat and watched him eat. He kind of reminded her of Goku who also ate a lot quickly. Growing boys and their appetites, she supposed. “Geez, didn’t you eat dinner?”
Vegeta shook his head as he shoved a giant wedge of bloody steak into his mouth.
Bulma raised her brows. She was tempted to ask why he hadn’t eaten dinner yet when it was already so late, but then thought better of prying. She tried to ignore the pang of worry she felt about why he hadn’t eaten dinner. The poor neighborhood, the abusive relative, the broken ribs, skipped meals… it wasn’t painting a pretty picture of Vegeta’s life. Bulma pushed her thoughts aside, not wanting to judge or jump to conclusions, and she knew Vegeta would certainly loathe her if he thought she pitied him.
In no time flat Vegeta had the plate completely clean, even scraping it off to get every last bit of sauce. He then cracked open the water bottle, tipped his head back, and drained the entire bottle in several long, large gulps. Bulma watched in amazement as Vegeta’s neck bobbed with each thirsty drag. When the bottle was sucked dry, Vegeta crunched it in his hand and gave a large, satisfied sigh.
Bulma’s brows were still raised. “Good?” she asked, her tone amused.
Vegeta lounged back and nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted, the corner of his mouth curling up in a becoming smile.
Oh shit, Bulma thought to herself, he was very attractive when not being surly.
To distract herself, Bulma gathered up his dishes and pointed at his soda. “You going to drink that?”
Vegeta shook his head. “Too much sugar.”
Bulma pointed at the label. “It’s diet.”
Vegeta scoffed. “Worried about your weight?” he asked, looking her over.
“Why, are you saying I should be?” Bulma asked, narrowing her eyes.
Vegeta rubbed his chest, wincing as he prodded his ribs. “Hardly.”
Bulma glared at him, trying to decide if she was being complimented or insulted. It was impossible to tell with Vegeta. One minute he was so bluntly straight forward, the next he seemed to speak half truths and riddles. She didn’t know which was more aggravating.
“I’m going to clean up.”
“I should get going,” Vegeta interjected before she could leave.
“Oh. Yeah,” Bulma said.
They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Vegeta shoved his hands into his pockets as he pushed up from the windowsill. “Remember what I told you.”
Bulma grimaced. “Like I could forget.”
He grunted and opened the window. “Later, Briefs.”
“Later,” she replied softly as he headed out the way he’d come in. Bulma remained standing in her room a while longer, still holding his dishes, trying to wrap her head around everything that had just transpired. Then she finally made her way to the kitchen to clean up before heading to bed.

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AN:
I love blunt, surly Vegeta so much. XD
Well, that’s 3 chapters in 3 days. But chapter 4 probably won’t be up until the weekend, I need a couple days to get some RL stuff in order.
Feel free to stalk me on twitter, same username there, ladyvegeets.
To all the people defending Yamcha so much - lol, you guys are great, it cracks me up. XD
To the 30 something married lady who reads vegebul highschool fics - I totally get ya. I’m a 30 something married lady who WRITES vegebul highschool fics, so, what does that say about me? Haha.
Keep feeding me your reviews, lovely people! It sustains me. *Totally doesn’t check her email a bajillion times a day for new reviews*
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