A/N: Just a little preview to my next project. I want to see what kind of response I get...

Disclaimer: All things associated with Dragon Ball Z belong solely to Akira Toriyama.

Something in the Water

Preface

"I… am… so… thirsty…"

Silence.

"Throat so… parched."

Crickets.

"Lips so… chapped. Stomach so – "

"I'll rip your stomach out if you finish that sentence."

Bulma cracked an eye open at his empty threat. Oh yes, it wanted as badly as she did… the water, of course. "Come on, Vegeta," she whined as she lolled her head back and forth across the wall she sat propped against, "Just a little bit? I promise I won't jump you or anything, okay? I'm going to freaking DIE if I don't drink something soon!"

"Shut up!" he roared, slamming his hands over his ears. Why the hell did he ever set foot on this God-forsaken ship?

Eyeing her shipmate curiously, Bulma made a rash decision and crawled over to his side where he sat against the vast glass window. "Look," she pleaded as her hair tumbled about her shoulders and onto his thighs - though he stoically refused to look at her, "I know you've got to drink something really soon too. With all that training you did… you need it more than I do," she coaxed, reaching to one of his hands to pull it from his ear.

With a defeated growl, Vegeta let his hands fall into his lap. Silence greeted her words momentarily. He knew she was right. "Don't fool yourself, Bulma," he rasped, glaring into her eyes, "I could very well kill you."

Paling, she gulped and nodded. "I believe you can control yourself, Vegeta," she murmured, rifling her hand through her hair as she leaned away from him.

Vegeta snorted as he stood and stretched. "No one has that much control."

"Ohhh so you finally admit that you think I'm gorgeous?" Bulma purred with a teasing flash of teeth.

"I think you are merely a female, and that is all it takes to be a temptation," he snapped with flashing eyes of warning. Taking the hint with every bit of restraint she had, Bulma leaned back against the glass in silence and crossed her arms across her bulging chest. "Stay here," he groused he made to leave. Pausing at the door, he refused to turn and meet her eyes. "And try not to make any noise," he grit out before he left for the kitchen.

Bulma let out a pent-up breath. Turning her head, she stared out into the twinkling darkness of outer space as she let thoughts of the past few days swirl in her head. Her stomach flipped and squirmed with unwelcome anticipation, and her eyes glistened in awareness. How in the world had she allowed herself to get into this predicament?

Bulma paced restlessly outside the GR. Oh yes… that man would come out, and when he did – She clenched her fists and ground her teeth. He made her life a royal hell, no pun intended. Ever since she had nursed him back to health after the explosion, Vegeta had been exceptionally antagonistic, abusive, and downright cruel. "Fucking maniacal alien," she muttered as she ran her hands down her short, breezy, red dress to obsessively smooth out the wrinkles. Her bare toes curled in the grass in anticipation as she looked out to the horizon. A moment later the power shut down as per usual and Bulma turned to the door with her long, aqua hair fluttering in the breeze behind her. As soon as the Saiyan appeared in the doorway, torso glistening and towel tossed carelessly over his shoulder, she attacked.

"You blew up my new chemical charger, YOU JERK!" Bulma screamed as she strode toward him and violently poked him in the chest with an accusing finger. "Do you even know how long I spent working on that? I WAS ALMOST FINISHED!"

Vegeta glanced down at her finger, carelessly brushed it away, and looked back to her flashing eyes with boredom. "Yes I know how long you've been working on it, fool. Why do you think I destroyed it?" he asked with an arched brow.

Bulma gaped at him. He had been planning this? What the hell… "What is WRONG with you?! Do you just want me to hate my life?"

"Well if you were any sort of decent person you would rid yourself from this planet, but otherwise – you were spending to much time on that thing," he replied as he looked down on her in contempt.

"WHAT?!" she exploded - and then paused. Suddenly it clicked. "Are you insane, Vegeta?"

"Of course not," he snorted, crossing his arms, "You have better things to be doing than working on that pet project – like upgrading the GR and fixing my meals."

Bulma paused in astonishment. "Are you jealous? Are you freaking jealous of my time, Vegeta?!" she screamed, punching him across the chest in frustration. "You CANNOT start destroying everything I'm working on or people I hang out with just because it's inconvenient for you that I'm not serving you hand and foot!"

"Ah, there's where we disagree. You should be serving me hand and foot," he tossed over his shoulder.

"NO! Absolutely not!" she yelled as she stomped a bare foot, and Vegeta turned to her again. "This is not how it's going to be. Here's the deal, Vegeta: You leave me and everyone else alone. You eat what you get. You train in what you get. You will not disrupt my life again or so help me I will make yours a living Hell. Is that clear?" she hissed, craning her neck to better meet his gaze.

Vegeta smirked and mockingly patted her cheek with a calloused hand, causing her to wince and growl. "I don't think so. I will single-handedly ensure that you never waiver from your duties to me and this infernal machine; moreover… I don't find your idea of hell to be particularly frightening, woman."

Bulma sputtered incoherently for a moment. "Argh!" she yelled, thumping his chest with both her fists and earning a wicked laugh from him. "You – are – ridiculous! I will not bend to your will and I can make you suffer just as well as anyone else can!"

"Yes," he replied with a smirk as he turned away and headed back to the house, "Frieza is suddenly looking like a pansy compared to you."

"Well hey – you couldn't beat him, so you can't be that much of a challenge!" she bellowed behind him.

Vegeta froze in his tracks, his shoulder blades twitching in barely-contained irritation, and Bulma slapped a hand over her mouth belatedly. "Just kidding…" she eeped out behind her hand.

Turning around with a snarl, Vegeta took a step towards her when they heard a voice call out "Bulma! The lab!"

Her head jerked towards the voice. "Daddy?" she answered breathlessly, thankful for the sudden interruption as her little father tottered towards them with fretful eyes.

"Have you seen it?" he exclaimed, tugging at his hair anxiously. "Your projects in the chemical wing are – are –"

"Taken care of," Vegeta interrupted with a devious smirk.

Barely suppressing a scream of irritation, Bulma ignored her houseguest and said with a grimace "Yes, Vegeta didn't like me spending time on anything other than him, so he chose to damage my other projects."

"My dear boy!" the old man cried, throwing his hands in the air, "Do you realize the destruction you've wrought on the entire chemical storage system! We've got massive leaks springing up all over the place! It's like a toxic wasteland!"

In reply Vegeta simply grunted and turned back towards the house to leave the elder Briefs stuttering in indignation. "Shh, Daddy," Bulma coohed as she took him by the shoulders and directed him towards the mechanical wing, "I'll take care of Vegeta later. You just need to relax and tinker on something. Just be thankful that we don't actually keep any real toxins in the lab."

"But the new medicines we've been working on – all spilled!"

Entering the senior lab with her father, Bulma pulled out his rolling chair and forced him to take a seat. "I command you not to worry about this anymore," she said in her best Vegeta-imitation-voice with a twinkle in her eye. "Relax. The team and I will take care of it, Daddy. Now tell me – how are the repairs on the space capsule?"

With a quizzical glance up at her, her replied, "Well – fine, I suppose. They were finished ages ago, although the supplies and technologies were never re-stocked. Other than that…"

"Fabulous!" she exclaimed as she tuned on her heel and headed out the door.

Dr. Briefs sat and scratched his head. What hair-brained scheme did she have now?

A/N: Please review and tell me what you think!