Author's Notes:  *readers appear in an old cemetery, with tombstones all around…they approach the first they come to cautiously…it reads: "The Flying Pen, a Dirty, Rotten, Tardy Jerk…"  They laugh, remembering this author and knowing how true those words are…UNTIL A FIST ERUPTS FROM THE SWAMPY DIRT clutching papers…

Chapter 4 – The Plan

Bulma yawned and got up stretching, immediately wincing and shutting her eyes.

Too much alcohol…

She carefully stood up and made her way to the shower.  She needed a clear head before she went and began the first operation of her mission: Saiyan Prince.  A shadow of a smirk lit her features as she stepped in the cold water. 

Nothing to clear your head like icy cold water in the AM…

Vegeta heard a scream as he scourged the fridge for leftovers from last night's meal. 

The woman…? 

He spared a glance behind him before shrugging his shoulders.  Hefting the load out of the refrigerator, he shut the door with his foot and dropped it all on the table. 

Bulma bounced into the kitchen wearing a tiny silk robe, smiling through blue lips and shivering as if she had just been out in a freezing rain.  Her wet hair matted against her face and neck, and he could tell she hadn't even dried thoroughly from the spots where her robe darkened and clung to her body like a second skin, his eyes lingering over her hardened—

He swallowed his mouthful of food in one huge gulp, quickly averting his eyes to his plate and frowning. 

Damn woman…other people live here as well.  She should put some clothes on before prancing around like a little tramp…

Bulma hummed through chattering teeth as she grabbed a bagel and threw it on her plate, sliding in her socks over the linoleum to a chair at the table.  She grinned and sat down across from Vegeta, watching him as she nibbled on her bagel.

He felt her eyes on him and suppressed a tremor of anger from taking him.

"Are you doing a scientific study on a Saiyans' eating habits as well, woman?" he growled, slamming his hands on the table on each of the sides of his plate and glaring at her.

Bulma blinked. 

Damn, what got his shorts in a wad?

"Well, only if you want me to, Prince Vegeta…"

His lip curled angrily.  Now she was mocking him.

"Calm down, monkey boy."  She turned her attention to her bagel.  "I was just trying to think of things to cook tonight.  Mom and Dad are outta town, so it's just me and you—"

"Damn it, you had better use that telephone and call someone to bring it over.  I will not give up the chance to fight the androids just because your food killed me…" he said in between shoving his breakfast in his mouth.

"That hurt Vegeta.  Really."  Rolling her eyes, she continued.  "Anyway, I was thinking something light, but then the whole Saiyan factor comes in.  I don't know, I'll have to plan this out."

He snorted and ignored her, never even looking in her direction.

She frowned and stood up angrily, and stomping over to the fridge, she began to examine its' contents, talking to herself and nodding her head from time to time.  She grabbed a pen and notepad, scribbling things to buy.

Vegeta finished his last bite, downed his glass of orange juice, and disappeared to go train.

Bulma smirked.

"Poor little Vegeta…" she said mischievously.  "He's not even aware of the power I hold over the food he eats."  If anyone had been witness to the evil glint in her eyes, they probably would have started crying.

Unfortunately, her mother was oblivious to the world around her.

"Good morning dear!!" the older woman said as she appeared in the kitchen, looking all the ray of sunshine that she was. 

"It is, isn't it?" Bulma grinned.

"Well, yes it is."  Her mother mechanically grabbed a bowl of berries and began munching on them before heading back upstairs to her room.  Bulma shook her head.  I'll never understand her.

That's when she remembered.  She had told Vegeta that her parents were supposed to be out of town this weekend!!  And they weren't!  How in the world was she supposed to have loud crazy sex with Vegeta if her parents were in the same house as them?!

Thinking quickly, she ran to her room in order to use her private phone line.  If her father ever found out about this…she didn't want to think about it.

"Hello, Macmillan Industries, how may we help you?"

"Yes, I need to speak to Jon Macmillan, please."

"I'm afraid Mr. Macmillan is busy at this moment; I can take a message—"

"Tell him Bulma Briefs needs to speak to him."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Bulma smirked.

"Right away Ms. Briefs."

Holding the cordless phone with one hand, she walked to her closet to try to pick out something to wear.  It had to be sexy, most definitely.  Something that brought attention to her assets, so cleavage was a must.  She paused and smiled.

"Damn I'm a whore!" she exclaimed to herself, pulling out a dress.

"Well, why didn't you say so earlier? We could've skipped this whole phone call and met somewhere tonight."

"Jonathon!"  Bulma smiled.  They may be competing companies, but Jon Macmillan was one of the few who didn't turn to dirty, illegal habits when dealing with Capsule Corps.  "I need a favor."

"What is it, sweet cheeks?"

"I need you to call an emergency meeting with my father today."  She crossed her fingers as another pause came to her from the phone.

Jonathon frowned.  He had plans with the lovely Felicia tonight and did not want them to be ruined.  And he knew Dr. Briefs would only come all the way to his company headquarters in America if it were important.  And if it were important, he himself would have to head the meeting, not one of his underlings, therefore canceling his weekend plans.

"Bulma, babe, I'd love to but I just can't—"

"Jonathon, I'll think about selling the blue-prints to the spaceship me and my father have been working on…"

He paused.  If she was willing to give away company details, something must be up.

"Bulma?  Is something wrong?  Why do you want your dad out of town all of the sudden."

Now he got a pause.

"Because…something's come up and I just need my parents out of my hair for a night-er, day or two."

He grinned wickedly through the phone, and Bulma could hear it as loud as if he had been yelling.  She could just imagine his green eyes flickering malevolently as he rested his tan chin on his hand.

"Something, eh?  Don't you mean someone?"

"Jonathon!  Will you do it or not?!"

He grinned.

"Sure, if you throw in the blueprints to that wonderful toaster-oven that cooks in half the time.  I've been hearing little rumors about that for a while now…"  Would she rise to the bait?

"Done."

"One more thing."  He leaned back in his chair, thinking that Bulma should get laid more often if this swapping of information was the result, and brushed a hand through his sandy blond hair.  Perhaps next she needed male ahem, services, he himself could offer his assistance…?  "What, pray tell, should this emergency meeting be about?"

Bulma thought.  And then she grinned.

"Ohhh, let's just say that I've heard rumors through the grapevine that a certain Zeneer Technology and a certain FTP Engineering have been considering a little alliance to stop the 'monopolization' of a certain Capsule Corps. and Macmillan Industries…"

Jonathon Macmillan sat straight up in his chair.

"Y-You're shitting me, right?"

"Nope.  I'll send the e-mail I intercepted to you ASAP." 

Jonathon gulped.

"You know Bulma, I would've agreed to meet your Dad without the spaceship or the toaster oven if you had just told me that…"

"I know.  Let's just say you owe me one."

Jonathon grinned, glad to have Capsule Corps. as an ally and not an enemy.  That Briefs girl was positively downright evil sometimes…

"Deal.  Oh, and Bulma?"

"Hmm?"

"Use protection." He grinned evilly.  "We don't want an illegitimate heir to Capsule Corps. popping up within the next year.  That might accidentally make Macmillan Industries rise above CC—"

A second later all he could hear was dial tone.  He laughed and phoned his secretary to ask Felicia if he could reschedule.

Bulma shook her head and threw the phone on her bed. 

"Time to go shopping…"

Vegeta kicked his shadow, following through with a punch and flipping backwards out of the way.  Taking a deep breath, he let his arms rest by his sides and rolled his neck around, hearing the popping of tired joints.  And his stomach.

Blasted organ…

Turning off the gravity, he froze when a new sound was revealed after the humming of the simulator was gone.

Is that…barking?!

Opening the door, he was surprised to see Bulma holding onto two long chains, two massive dogs at the other end.  Both were barking and pulling at the chains excitedly.  That's when he noticed cars lined up in the driveway as well.  He growled.  She knew he hated people…and animals.

"Woman!"

She looked up as if just noticing his presence, though he couldn't see her eyes through her dark sunglasses.  She had on a tight red shirt and short, dark denim shorts on, with black sandals.  Her hair was messily piled on top of her head, a few strands falling in front of her frames.  She sacrificed one hand on the chains to push her frames back on her nose, holding the hand there and looking as if the dogs might pull her over any moment now.

Bulma zoomed in on the unknowing Prince's chest, watching the drops of sweat drip down the valleys of his muscles and pool in the material of the waistband on his shorts, creating darker splotches all around, but especially right above his—

"Yes, Vegeta?"

"What the hell is all this?" he motioned to the cars and the dogs, and then he crossed his arms.

A mighty fine show, Princey-boy…She watched his pecks and abs move around as he motioned, and then his biceps as they tensed when he crossed his arms.

"Well, I took your advice and decided not to cook—"

"Thank Kami…" he muttered, giving her a view of his profile.

"—and hired all these chefs from the city to come and cook a full-course meal, Earth style."  She smiled when he looked at her hungrily.  If only that look was directed at my body… "There'll be Italian, Chinese, Mexican…anything you want."

He frowned.  If this was some ploy to use on him because she was looking for a mate, it wouldn't work on him.  He did not need a mate to hound on him day and night.  He would eat the food and leave, without saying thank you, of course. 

Stupid woman…she doesn't know who she's messing with…

Silly Prince…you don't know what you're in for…

As she headed towards her labs with the dogs pulling her for the most part, he stopped her again.

"You never explained why you had the mutts."

She turned to look at him, glasses sliding down to the tip of her nose so she could regard him with those piercing blue eyes.

"The neighbors are out of town.  So I volunteered to watch Apollo and Zeus while they were gone."  The two pitch black Great Danes turned their cropped ears to her when she said their names.  She bent down and hugged both their huge heads at the same time.  "And they're good boys, yes they are!  They do exactly what I tell them, 'cause they love Aunty Bulma, don't they?"

Two barks were her answer, and she turned smugly to Vegeta, who had a revolted look on his face.

"Disgusting…"

Bulma stood up and continued to her labs before remembering.

"Oh, and Vegeta…"

He growled but stopped anyway, not bothering to turn around to look at her.

"Don't kill any of the chefs.  Don't get in their way.  And don't ruin your supper with junk food because you feel a little hungry now."  Her voice was icy.

He shook his head and walked into the house.  The woman was already putting a leash on him, as if he was her mate or something!!  He'd have to put her in her place sometime.  Just not when she had those appalling, drooling animals with her.  Yuck.

Bulma grinned as she entered her labs, the door shutting behind her and locking.

"Sit." She commanded, pleased as both dogs immediately heeded her.  "If only Vegeta were as receptive."  She paused just to think about that, a naughty grin highlighting her features.  "The possibilities."

Chuckling, she walked to the chemical storage part of her lab, and quickly grabbed various things in order to pile them gently on the table in front of her. 

"I haven't used this formula in so long…" she mused, mixing powders together in a little bowl before crushing them with a stick in order to fully combine them.  The recipe came to her as easily as if she made it all her life, when really she hadn't used this particular formula since her college days.

She remembered her and her friends staying up late one night to perfect it, this little aphrodisiatic substance.  Chi Chi had said the way to a Saiyan's heart is through his stomach…but what if this Saiyan didn't have a heart?  She didn't mind listening to her shoulder devil for once and trading, in this case, his heart for one nice night in bed.  Or maybe two.  Who needed a heart when you could get a good fuck (or two) out of a man?

Completing her experiment, she got up and grabbed some empty pitri dishes, and then went to the refrigerator in her lab.  The only thing edible was a cold turkey sandwich.  She shrugged and ripped it into chunks before placing them on the dishes.  She left two of the four dishes normal and added her powder to the other two.  Then she turned to the dogs.

Now on humans, this dust was a colorless, odorless powder that dissolved instantly when it hit any type of liquid, whether it was a drink or food, and made its victim completely horny for about six hours.  What Bulma didn't know was if a certain Saiyan Prince would be able to detect it.  She figured his sense of smell and taste would be the ones to give her away.  So she had asked her neighbors if they minded her borrowing their dogs to go on a walk.

"Apollo."

The dog stood up and walked to her, curiously sniffing the air.  He could smell turkey.  He wanted turkey.  He turned to Bulma.

"Now Apollo, I want you to eat these."  She laid them on the floor and noticed he was already salivating.  Hmm…reminds me of a Saiyan I know…

Apollo didn't need coaxing.  He went right for the dish in front of him, which Bulma had made sure was a normal dish.  When he had finished that, he moved to the next, which was a tainted one. 

Sniffing first, he paused.  Then he sniffed the other two, and immediately chose the other untainted sandwich.

"Damn it!" she cursed as he walked away, completely sated while leaving the two sandwiches with the powder alone.  "Hmm…this just means I have more to do."

Vegeta sat at the kitchen table, back ramrod straight and eyes straight ahead.  No sudden movements…they might leave you alone if you get lunch and get out of here…

He was considering using his super speed to go to the fridge, grab the food, and disappear into the chamber, but there was someone in front of it every five seconds grabbing some kind of ingredient or putting something back up.  There had to be eight people in here, all wearing aprons and hats.  His eye was twitching.

An old lady saw him and walked up to him while mixing something in a bowl.

"Sonny, are you all havin' a party tonight or something?" she asked, stirring and stirring; she couldn't understand who would need so much food... 

Vegeta watched her old hand circle the bowl again…and again…and again…

"Sonny?"

He growled and stood up.  Stomping to the fridge, he pulled a drawer out of the bottom and set it under his arm, grabbing a carton of milk and slamming the door shut.  The cooks in the room stared wide-eyed as he disappeared with the entire drawer in his arms.

Vegeta sat on the couch and placed the drawer beside him, thanking Kami that Bulma always stockpiled this drawer with already-made food just in case they weren't available when he was hungry.  Picking out sandwiches, he quickly began emptying the drawer when he heard the door open.

Bulma walking in with a grin on her face that said 'I'm a genius, plain and simple'.  He glowered and stuffed another sandwich down his throat, eyebrows creasing together when he felt her weight join his on the couch.  She flipped on the TV and put her hands behind her head.

"Mmm…Vegeta,"

He paused in his eating, but never looked at her.  That had sounded positively…sensual.  He bit into an apple, the sound reverberating in his ears, which were now only waiting for her to say his name like that again.

"Doesn't the food smell delicious?" She turned to him, smiling and giving him a lidded look through her eye lashes.  He swallowed.

"Only because you're not the one cooking it…" he muttered, before throwing the apple core back into the drawer.  He grabbed a Tupperware and opened it to find teriyaki chicken and rice.   

Bulma watched him eat, a smirk lighting her lips.  Poor Vegeta.  I almost feel…guilty about this.  I mean, what kind of inner-turmoil will he go through when he realizes he's fucking a weakling human woman?  She shrugged.  Too bad.  It'll be revenge for all the times he's insulted me.  Ha ha ha, and what better revenge than to make him fool around with a "weakling woman" he despises?

Laughing out right, she ignored the look Vegeta sent her and went on thinking of when she would give her little "spice" to the cooks to add it to their dinner. 

Why would she laugh at my insult?  He glared.  Usually she screams, throws something even…I don't like this.  Shrugging, he kept eating, ignoring the woman and the TV to the best of his ability before she got up with a deep sigh.

"Well, I was just taking a break.  But I think I'll get some water."  She looked down at the Saiyan Prince, loving the fact that even though she couldn't stare at his abs because he was hunched over the drawer of food in his lap, she could still gaze at the wonderfully built muscles outlining his back.  Covered in that bronze skin, so perfectly smooth and—

Wait…

Not smooth.  Upon closer inspection, she noticed old scars all over his back, of all shapes and sizes, some thin and long, some jagged, as if his flesh had been completely torn and ripped—

He was looking at her.

Blushing, she turned to the TV, trying to hide the look on her face.  She knew it was one of curiosity…but she also knew that there would be a certain sympathetic tone in it.  And he would not like to see that.

Kami, she was acting weird tonight.  His eyebrows lowered even more in confusion as he continued spooning the teriyaki in his mouth.  She had just been staring at him, her face kind of…dazed.  And her hand was playing with something in her short's pocket.  He growled.  Why were his thoughts even occupying the woman?

His growl woke Bulma up out of her embarrassed stunned state and she turned and headed to the kitchen.  Upon entrance, an older woman was standing up from the oven and stretching her arms, grinning.

"Excuse me…" Bulma started, walking up to her.

"Wanna know what's on the menu for tonight?" the pudgy old woman turned to her, grinning.

Bulma smiled.  She put her arm around the short woman and led her away from the doorway.  This would suck if Vegeta heard what she was saying and she knew that Saiyans had better hearing than humans.  She made sure to whisper as well.

"No thank you, but I was wondering if you could add this to all the dishes…?"

She pulled a little saltshaker out of her pocket and held it tightly in her hand.  She had worked hard on this little puppy…

The older woman looked confused.

"You want me to put salt on every one of those dishes?!"  She backed up, a horrified look on her face.  "That would ruin about half of them, darling?"  She raised an eyebrow.  "Are you sure you know how to cook, dear?"

Bulma ground her teeth but laughed –a little too sweetly– anyway.

"No no no!  This isn't salt, ma'am!"  She waved a hand nonchalantly, and then looked around as if checking to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.  She bent low so she was eye to eye with the woman and spoke in hushed tones.

"Did you happen to see a short grumpy man come and get a drawer from the fridge?"

The older woman nodded, confused as to where this was going.  Bulma carried on.

"Well, you see, this is his medicine."  The woman was staring at her.  She knew she'd need a better explanation.  Sighing, she continued.  "I don't like to talk about it, but he has some…" –pause for effect– "…anger management problems."  She concluded dramatically. 

The woman's eyes widened and they curiously shot to the doorway that led to the man she had just been speaking to.

Bulma squeezed her shoulders and schooled her face into a sympathetic look.

"He…doesn't like to admit it to anyone, poor thing…in fact, he thinks he's the sweetest guy you ever met, but he just can't help…blowing up at people unless he takes his medicine.  You understand, don't you?"  She sniffed once and looked up, blinking as if holding tears back.  Damn Bulma…first Yamcha and now granny.  Sheesh.  Oh well.  In light of what she was trying to pull off, a little white lie was barely worth her conscience…

The older woman nodded, patting Bulma's hand compassionately.

"Sweety, I know the feeling.  My husband didn't like to admit he had mood swings either.  I was constantly having to slip the Paxyl into his food myself."  She gave Bulma's arm a little squeeze and then grabbed the salt shaker with a wink.  Just as she was about to head back to the food, she paused.

"Oh, and deary?"

Bulma's evil grin turned back into her grateful relieved face as she turned back to the old woman.

"What will you be eating?  I'll leave this out of that dish so you don't accidentally take your husband's prescription—"

Bulma tried to make her smile look genuine.

"Oh, don't worry about me."  She waved a hand dismissively.  "I'm making my own supper.  If I know my," she coughed, "husband, then I know he'll want to taste all the wonderful dishes you all are cooking up."

The woman nodded and shuffled away, lost in the memories of her own past times. 

Bulma threw her arms up in a "SCORE!!" gesture and spun around. 

Vegeta almost dropped the empty drawer as he walked in on the woman dancing with her eyes closed in the middle of kitchen.  Luckily, he caught it in time and managed to gain his composure before she noticed him.  One of his brows lifted as a wicked grin appeared on her face as she strode past him.

"I was just talking to the chefs, Prince Vegeta." 

There was that throaty purr in her voice that immediately put him on guard…

"Dinner should be delicious."

Author's Notes:  Hey!! Good news!!!!!!  I'm not dead. *readers glare*  Erm.