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Diary	By : LisaB Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 423 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Diary
- 1
DIARY

Disclaimer: No, I don�t own Dragonball
Z. You�re shocked, I know. Not making any money with this story either. The song "Diary" belongs to the group Bread.

Warnings: Songfic featuring a
very old song. This got uglier than I expected so language and sexual images.

I can�t count on MM.org to put
italics where they should be so: ~~ means lyrics~~ and \ means journal
entries\

******************************************************************************************

�Yamcha! What a surprise! Bulma
didn�t say you were coming by today. She said you were out training in the
desert.� Mrs. Briefs smiles at me and opens the door further to let me in.

�I know,� I say, �but three months
in the desert is a long time. I decided to take a break and see my girl.�

�Well, isn�t that nice! I agree
three months is too long for a young man to go without love!� Mrs. Briefs shuts
the door and leads me into the kitchen. �Let me get you something to drink!
I�m sure you�re thirsty after being in the desert!� She goes to the cabinet
and gets out a glass, but I stop her before she can get to the refrigerator.

�That�s OK, Mrs. Briefs. I�m not
thirsty. I didn�t come straight from the desert, you know.�

Her eyes open wide for moment, as
if she never considered this possibility. �Oh,� she says. �Then let me get
you a snack!�

I roll my eyes. �No snack, Mrs.
Briefs. Is Bulma here?�

�No snack?� She looks supremely
disappointed. �Yes, Bulma�s outside somewhere. She said something about
enjoying the day and took her laptop and went.� She gestures vaguely toward
the backyard.

�Thanks.� I head to the back
door.

�Are you sure you don�t want---�
The door cuts off the end of Mrs. Briefs offer.

Yes, I�m sure I don�t want! Mrs. Briefs is a swell lady, but, man! She�s clueless
sometimes. Thank goodness Bulma doesn�t take after her. Of course, if she
had, we never would have met anyway. I try to picture a young Mrs. Briefs
running around the world and falling into adventure. No, Bulma and I
definitely never would have met.

I look around the huge field that
the Briefs affectionately term �the backyard� and don�t see Bulma. I sigh. I
told Mrs. Briefs that three months without Bulma was too long, but in reality
three weeks is too long. I miss her when we�re not together. I was
only gone three months because she didn�t think I was taking my training
seriously enough. I was tired of hearing how Vegeta trained for
twenty-four hours straight or Vegeta was asking for another gravity room
upgrade. Compared to Vegeta, no one took training seriously. And look where it
got him --- blown up and almost killed! I want to improve as much as the next
guy, but death sort of brings any progress to a screeching halt. I wanted to
prove to her that I did take the upcoming battle with the androids
seriously though, so while she was building the new gravity machine, Puar and I
headed to the desert.

So I trained. I even ran into
Goku and Gohan and we trained together some. It was sort of like old times,
but Bulma wasn�t there. And I missed her. I wondered what she was doing. Was
she missing me? I hoped so. I thought after I came back from Otherworld that
maybe she was finally ready to step up our relationship. You know, take it to
the next level. I�m not getting any younger and she�s not either (but don�t
tell her that!) and we�ve been dating for years. Most couples would be married
by now. At first she seemed so happy to have me back, but then we fell into
our usual pattern of bickering and we were on again, off again. It was like a
merry-go-round. I was hoping that maybe being gone might make her miss me
again, make her remember that we need each other. That it�s time to settle
down.

The wind ruffles my hair and blows
the leaves around on the lawn. There�s a slight chill in the air; summer�s
barely hanging on. My path leads me near the gravity room, which is mercifully
silent and makes the day serene. Even the sound of traffic knows today is one
of the last good days before winter and seems to hush itself in respect.

I finally find her laptop, sitting
open under a tree. I look around.

�Bulma?�

She isn�t here. I wonder where
she went. Maybe back to the house? I don�t know how we could have passed each
other without seeing one another. I sit down under the tree to wait. She�ll
be back. She won�t abandon her work for long.

I glance at the laptop to see what
she�s working on. It�s not a spreadsheet or even one of those engineering
programs that simulate structural loads. Must be a report. I look closer,
hoping to glean a couple of useful facts to insert into the conversation when I
ask her what she�s working on.

But it�s not a report . . . it�s
personal. Holy shit! It�s a journal.

I tear my eyes away and glance
around to see if anyone has seen me. There�s no one around, of course, but
there�s something about snooping that makes you certain someone is hiding
nearby, just waiting to leap out and scream, �gotcha!�

Bulma is still keeping a journal?
She used to, when she was a lot younger; I remember the little pink books with
the feeble lock and key she used to scribble in on our adventures. I got my
head clobbered pretty good the first time I tried to sneak a peek. Years
later, she had pulled one of them out and shared her teenage entries with me.
�He�s a �bad guy�, but he�s kind of cute!� she�d written about me shortly after
we met. I thought writing in diaries was a thing of the past, but Bulma apparently
didn�t and only the technology had changed.

I sit there a few moments more,
wishing Bulma would come back but dreading that she�ll think I was snooping. I
decide to close the laptop, but then I wonder if I�ll be ruining something she
was working on. And she�ll know that she didn�t leave it that way and she�ll
know that I closed it and the only reason I would close it was if I knew she
was writing something personal and then she�ll know I was snooping.

What should I do? Get up and walk
away? Hide and wait till she comes back and then act like I just got here?
That would be the smart thing to do.

But the screen calls to me. Whether
or not Bulma has missed me is probably typed on that screen right now. I could
find out . . . everything. What she likes about me, what I should change, why
she doesn�t seem to want to get married. Everything I need to know is inches
away from my fingertips. I�d be a fool not to use it, right? How can I
convince Bulma to marry me if I don�t know what�s stopping her? We could
settle everything, have a spring wedding or maybe even a Christmas one.

~~I found her diary underneath a tree.

and started reading about me

The words she's written took me by surprise

you'd never read them in her eyes.

They said that she had found the love she waited for.

Wouldn't you know it, she wouldn't show it.~~

\I�ve lost count of how many days he�s been gone. I�m furious with myself
for missing him, but I know now that my feelings for him are not as superficial
as I thought. After all this time, I finally realize what I�ve wanted has been
right there beside me all along. It�s foolish, I know. These immature games
I�ve been playing. How I could have denied the truth to myself this long is
beyond me.

I think I�m sure of his
feelings. He doesn�t say much on the subject, but when he kisses me I sense
there�s more there than he�s letting on. I think perhaps he�s as uncertain of
me as I am of him. There�s been so much bad between us, the fights, the
horrible things I�ve said to him. It�s no wonder that we play our cards so
close to the chest.

When he comes back, though, I�m
going to tell him I love him. I�m going to show him that I�m not afraid
anymore to be with him.\

Holy Shit! It worked! My plan
worked. She missed me; she knows what she wants now. I feel my chest expand
again. I hadn�t even realized I had been holding my breath while I read the
entry. I smile in relief. For all the times I wondered what the hell I was
doing with her, for all the stupid games we played, the hang-ups, the slammed
doors, for all that I was finally going to get what I�ve been waiting for. I
thought she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen that day in the
desert, and she still is.

And now she�s ready. Now she wants to be mine forever. How can she not know
my feelings? I stopped asking about marriage because she told me not to, not
because my feelings had changed. It doesn�t matter. Now I can ask her again
and this time, this time I won�t be disappointed.

~~And as I go through my life, I
will give to her my wife

all the sweet things that I can find.~~

I feel courageous now; I want to
know more. I want to hear it all. I click on the entry above today, made
three days before.

\It�s so quiet without him
here. I hadn�t realized how much I�d become attuned to his comings and goings,
his demands. (Demands?) I feel like
I�m just floating adrift in the current, waiting for him to pull me to shore.
I hate this feeling. I don�t need him! I know I�ve said that before and gone
back, but I refuse to be some dick-whipped girl who can�t do without a man.
Sure the sex is mind-blowing, but it�s nothing to build a real relationship
around.

Is it? No one has ever touched
me like he does or if he did, it never felt the same. (What the fuck?) Why does he affect me so? \

My mouth goes dry. What the hell
is this?

\ I practically cum if he
whispers in my ear. His control over my body is mesmerizing. The only thing I
have to sustain me is that he seems just as affected by my touch and that day
in the shower convinced me I have a similar power over him.\

I swallow and I my eyes blur. I
blink away the tears, determined to know WHAT THE FUCK is going on.

\It amazes me how such a short
time ago I couldn�t stand to be around him. Since the accident, however, we
seem to see each other differently, I don�t know how else to explain it.\

No.

\A part of me wishes he would
never come back, so I could save myself from this pit I�m falling into, but I
know that I�ll fall anyway. I�m helpless. And hopeless.

And only Vegeta can pull me
back from the brink.\

No.

No, no, no, NO!

I don�t even know I�m screaming.
I toss the computer from my lap, standing. I look for something to hit,
anything and I pound the tree trunk beside me, throwing chunks of bark and
splintering the wood.

�No, no, no, no!�

�Yamcha?�

I hear her voice and I look over. There
she stands, looking beautiful and impossibly innocent.

�You!� I roar out. �You! How
could you?� I pick up her laptop and I hurl it across the yard. It lands a
hundred yards away, breaking in two as it lands. �And with him!�

She knows now, knows that I know.
Her face wrenches in sadness and more than a little fear. I�ve never acted
like this before.

But then, I�ve never been this
angry.

�I�m sorry, Yamcha. It just
happened---�

�Shut up! You just shut up! I
don�t want to hear how it just �happened.� I don�t want to know the details of
your shower time or how much you melt when that bastard kisses you!�

I stomp over to her and look into
her tear-streaked face. Ironically I notice that I told her to shut up and she
did. I�ve never done that before. Suddenly, my chest swells with a power
that I never knew I possessed.

�I came here hoping that you
missed me. I came here hoping that you might finally realize what I meant to
you. I came here hoping that you might agree to be my wife!

I walk around her, looking her up
and down. She stands still as stone except for the tears streaming down her
cheeks and the odd hitch in her breath as she cries.

�Instead I find you�ve been fucking
Vegeta! Instead I find you�re head over heels in love with the biggest asshole
in the universe!�

I�m crying openly now, but I don�t
care. I hold my head and let one scream go. �Auuuggghh!�

Kami! That felt good. I scream
again and again, releasing all my anger into my hoarse cries. Finally, there
is nothing left, nothing but a great, deep sadness --- a hole in my heart where
Bulma used to be.

She senses the break and decides
to try again. �I�m so sorry, Yamcha. I never wanted to hurt you. I swear I
never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me.�

�Then why did you do it? Why did
you crawl in bed with that monster? Why did you---?� I stop short as my mind
fills with a horrible vision�Bulma on her knees before that Saiyan monster,
giving him the blow job of his life while he pumps her face up and down on his
cock. �Oh god,� I say, sickened and turn away, collapsing to the ground.

~~I found her diary underneath a
tree.

and started reading about me.

The words began stick and tears to flow.

Her meaning now was clear to see.

The love she'd waited for was someone else not me

Wouldn't you know it, she wouldn't show it.~~

I hear her move toward me and I
feel her hands on me. My first instinct is to turn away, but I find myself
burying myself in her arms, weeping like a baby.

�I�m sorry, I�m so sorry,� she
says over and over and all I can do is cry. She cradles me and lets me cry
until I�m spent.

When I regain control of my
emotions, I try to pull away but she holds me firm.

�No, Yamcha,� she says, �you�re
not leaving like this. You have to listen to me.� Her lips are on my ear and
she speaks quickly because she knows she can�t hold me here unless I let her.

�I know I�ve hurt you; I know what
I�ve done is wrong. But I swear to Kami that my heart is breaking right now.
I hate this; I hate seeing you cry. I hate knowing that I�m the reason. But
we�ve been together too long to lie about shit now and I�m not going to lie to
you. Vegeta and I . . . we just happened. One day it all just fell into place
and made sense. I still don�t understand it. And it will probably blow up in
my face big time for all I know.� She finally releases me to look into my
face.

�But . . . I wouldn�t have hurt
you unless I sure that there was something there for me. I�ve never felt about
anyone like I do him. And when . . . it started . . . it all happened so
fast. There was no time to think about what I was doing or how it was going to
change everything between us. I�ve only now come to grips with the fact that
I�m in love with him. For better or worse, I love the arrogant SOB. There are
times I�m as disgusted by that fact as much as you. But I can�t deny it any
longer. And when he gets back---�

�Where is he?�

�In space, training.� She doesn�t
meet my eyes. She�s much less certain about him than she letting on. �But
when he gets back, I�m going to put my cards on the table. I�ve got to know
where he stands.�

�And if his stand doesn�t include
you?�

She laughed a harsh laugh. �Then
I�ve just lost the best boyfriend a girl could have for nothing!� She sees I�m
not laughing. �Best boyfriend� or not, I�m the loser in this round.

She cradles my cheek. �No, I
should have let you go long before this. You�re too good for me, Yamcha. You
give me too much without making me work for it. And I don�t deserve it. I�m
bossy and vain and I yell too much---�

�Nah, you�re perfect,� I say and
try to give her a rakish grin. I fail.

Fresh tears roll down her cheeks
and she clutches me again. �You�re so sweet, Yamcha. You�re gonna make some
lucky girl really happy one day. I wish I could be that girl, Yamcha, but I�m
not her. Not anymore. Maybe once upon a time I was, but---� She pulls back and
smiles a sad smile. �We�re all grown up now. We�ve got to . . . I�ve
got to admit that what I thought I wanted isn�t what I wanted at all. It�s an
angry, disagreeable alien with a very small chink in his armor and I�m going to
work my way into that chink and under his skin so deep he can�t let me go.�

There�s a spark of trademark Bulma
Briefs boldness as she says this and my heart warms at seeing it. And strangely,
there�s a part of me that cheers for her, and I know that if Bulma gets her
way, Vegeta doesn�t stand a chance. I guess if Vegeta has to be taken down a
peg, I would rather it be by Bulma than anyone else. Something lifts inside of
me, I feel lighter than I did a few moments ago. I take her hand and we pull
ourselves up from the ground. We stand there a moment, looking at each other.
Her smile is wistful. I have no idea what mine looks like.

�I�ll go,� I say.

�Don�t go,� she says. �Stay. Stay
and tell me about your training.� She sees the hesitation in my eyes, the
disbelief. �We can still be friends, right?�

Typical Bulma. It�s always about
her. Even as I think this I can�t be angry. My life has been about her for so
long that it�s only natural she should feel that way. And she�s right; we will
still be friends. I can�t hate her, not when I love her so much.

�Sure, we�ll still be friends,� I
say,� but not just yet.�

I drop her hands and turn to
leave. The wind suddenly seems stronger, with a bite in it that wasn�t there
before. I shove my hands in my pockets as I pass the broken laptop. If I�d
known the day was going to change like this, I would have worn a jacket.

~~I found her diary underneath a tree.

and started reading about me.

The words began stick and tears to flow.

Her meaning now was clear to see.

The love she'd waited for was someone else not me

Wouldn't you know it, she wouldn't show it.

and as I go through my life, I will wish for her his wife

all the sweet things that she can find

all the sweet things they can find~~

**********************************************************

Song: Diary by Bread

Notes: I wrote this in one day (a
record for me) and wanted to post it on the same day. I will never do that
again because Ember found so many mistakes I�m now ashamed if anyone read it
rather than proud. Thanks, Ember, for making me look good. I now know how lame
I would appear without your eye for detail. *hugs*

Thanks and hugs to debbiechan for
creative feedback. No one could ask for a more supportive writing buddy.

Please leave a review and let me
know what you thought. Any feedback is appreciated.
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Diary