Bulma's Other Men
Published on / 1 Chapter(s) / 3 Review(s)
Vegeta finds what he considers proof of Bulma's infidelity. Can she prove her innocence to her husband?
(Dragonball Z, and its characters belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation, Toei, Bird, and all other involved parties.)
How could Bulma do this to him?
He had to admit to himself that he had not always been the perfect husband, but he had always been faithful to her, and he had not deliberately sought to hurt her—at least not after the Cell Games anyway.
He wasn't sure, if he had ever told her that he loved her, but he knew that he did—and now this had happened!
His fists were clenched, as he leaned against Bulma's closet wall, wanting to blast away everything in there. Sweat rained down Vegeta's reddened brow, as he still tried to recover from the not-so-carefully hidden evidence of the worst way a wife could hurt her husband.
“Why, Bulma?” he asked, anguished. “What do all those men have that I don't?”
Bulma huffed over to the phone and swiftly picked it up. She growled when she saw an unfamiliar number on the caller I.D. Most likely, it was a telemarketer.
“Bulma Briefs, are ya there?”
“Yes, I am, and yes, I'm happy with my long-distance company, so good-bye—hey, wait, don't I know you?”
“Sure thing, mate! It's me, Will! Will Coop from Australia!”
“WILL!” Bulma exclaimed. “So glad to hear from you! How've you been?”
“Great!” Will replied. “I've got my own gardening service now. I've moved from Sydney to here, and while I miss down under, I like this city so far. Thought I'd look ya up and see how've you been.”
“What have you been up to?” Bulma asked, and a brief catch-up conversation followed. Finally, after a few minutes, Will asked jokingly, “So, Bulma, you in need of a gardener?”
“I sure am! It's hard for me to even get a decent gardener these days…had a good one for a while, but he and my husband didn't get along too well…” Bulma's voice trailed off, for she was still embarrassed by Vegeta's previous behavior with the last gardener. The poor man had been trimming hedges, but he had made the near-fatal mistake of cutting a wire essential for powering up the gravity room while Vegeta had been training in there. Vegeta had been ready to decimate him, and if Bulma hadn't intervened, that gardener would have been Vegeta's latest victim.
“Well, when would ya like me to come, mate?”
“Today would be fine,” Bulma replied sweetly. “Our lawn does need mowing, and the shrubs are getting raggedy—“
“BULMA! WHERE ARE YOU?”
Recognizing her husband's voice, Bulma grumbled, “I'm sorry, Will, but I have to go. Just come over by five o'clock okay?”
“Sure thing, mate! G'bye!”
After hanging up, Vegeta stormed into the living room, with his arms crossed. Bulma sighed and asked, “What is it this time?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You tell me.” He took a deep breath and added in a tone between disgruntlement—and despair, “Especially about your other men.”
“OTHER MEN?” Bulma exclaimed. “Vegeta, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You know very well,” Vegeta hissed, leaning towards her menacingly. “I was in your closet because your dense mother told me she put my training boots in there, so I went to look. And while I found my boots, I found solid proof of your infidelity!”
“What proof?” Bulma asked indignantly. “Vegeta, I have never betrayed you with another man! I love you, you idiot! What kind of `proof' do you think you have?”
“Follow me,” he told her coolly, and turned on his heel without looking back at her. Bulma felt chilled to her soul, as she quietly followed her angry husband to her walk-in-closet.
When they arrived at the closet, Vegeta took her arm and pulled her inside with him. “Now, Bulma,” he said tonelessly. “I want you to at least tell me who these men are?”
“What?” Bulma shrieked. “Vegeta, for the last time, I have not—“
“Then who in the hell are Calvin, Ralph, Tommy, and Giorgio, and why are their clothes in your closet?”
“Calvin, Ralph, Tommy, and Giorgio?”
“That's right! Look!” And he pushed a package of underwear towards Bulma's face. “That fool, Calvin Klein, has no shame, leaving his briefs in your closet!
Bulma took one look at the underwear, and then she fell against the wall of the closet, laughing hysterically.
“Vegeta, you crack me up!”
“What?” Vegeta cried. “You're laughing at my misery and the mockery you made of our union! Look at this!” And he yanked an expensive white men's suit off of the rack. “Your `friend' Giorgio even has his name on the tag of this suit! Who the hell is this Giorgio Armani?”
Bulma sank to the floor, still laughing, as the tears rolled down her face. “Poor Vegeta! Vegeta, calm down!”
“Hell, if I will! And some guy named Ralph Lauren even left a bottle of men's cologne with his name on it!”
“Vegeta!” Bulma cried, laughing harder than ever. “All those clothes and that cologne are for you! Those names of my `other men' are brand names! Those men are designers, silly! Those things are your birthday presents!”
Vegeta was nonplussed. “You mean to tell me…that you don't know any of those men? And men designers just put their names on anything?”
Bulma had calmed her hysteria by then. “Y-yes, Vegeta, that's right.” She stood up and walked over to him, taking his face into her hands, as she stood on her tiptoes. “I'm sorry seeing those names upset you, but you, of all people, should know by now that I would never cheat on you.” She then implanted a steamy kiss on his lips that made him want to melt.
Deeply ashamed, Vegeta slowly embraced her, and whispered two anguished words that he rarely used with anyone, even her:
Bulma smiled, kissing his nose, and then moving her lips to his again. She winked at him. “It's okay, lover-boy, but remember this the next time you think I'm playing around on you, or talking to another man.”
“You need to talk to no other men, but me,” Vegeta insisted, pulling her against him possessively.
“You know what?” Bulma told him in a seductive whisper. “I think I have one early birthday present that I'd like to give you right now.” And after that, she started to peel off his shirt, carefully watching the play of his perfect muscles.
Vegeta was about to gladly receive that present, when he heard a doorbell ring. Bulma was about to dash off to answer it, but Vegeta took her by the waist and stopped her. “You wait here,” he ordered to her, but with a smirk. “And when I return to deal with whoever dared to delay my receiving my `birthday present', I expect you to be wearing not one stitch of clothing, especially not by Calvin or Ralph.”
“Yes, master,” Bulma mocked. “Now hurry up!”
Vegeta opened the door, and his jaw dropped when he saw a husky, muscular man with golden hair. “Who are you?” he demanded to know.
“G'day, sir! Is my old mate, Bulma Briefs, around?”
“MATE?” Vegeta's voice reverberated throughout Capsule Corp.
THE END (Of Will, perhaps?)
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