literature

The Overdue Book

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Bulma sat behind the library counter, watching the other students ignore and pass her by to use the private study rooms or desks set around the two story college library. She propped her elbow on the countertop and slouched in her chair, letting her chin fall to her open hand. It was so boring being on duty but she had volunteered to help out even if she was now regretting that decision. Her classes were far too easy and didn’t require a whole of studying on her part, so she had thought that lending a hand with small jobs around the campus would keep her occupied enough. Sighing miserably into the palm of her hand, Bulma closed her eyes and tried to bolster her spirit.

She felt the tremor of something hitting the desk before the sound of someone clearing their throat caused her to look up. Her mouth fell open at the handsome face. Sure there was a bit of arrogance and tightness that should have warned Bulma he was more than the average rich kid running around the university, but she wouldn’t worry about it until later.

“May I help you?” she asked in her kindest voice and sweetest smile.

With a gloved hand, well the fingertip of a gloved hand, he pushed the book under her nose. Okay, so it the counter wasn’t that tall, but she had to tilt her head to watch the book he was presenting. Glancing at the title and noting that it was about military history, Bulma looked at the guy who she just noticed had ridiculously spiked hair.

“Checking out or returning?” she once more questioned the silent patron. “I’ll need to see your ID if you’re going to borrow the book.”

He just continued to stare at her. Bulma swallowed a nervous lump in her throat. Perhaps the man didn’t know their language yet. She hadn’t seen the guy around, not that Bulma knew everyone wandering the grounds, but she was certain she would’ve taken notice of this specimen. His hair was reddish-brown that was swept up in what she thought looked like a flame. His thick eyebrows slashed over narrowed eyes that were an undistinguished dark color. He had a very nice straight nose that sat above a pair of downturned lips.

“Returning,” he answered with a husky voice.

Bulma lay a hand on top of the book, watching him as he stood there watching her. What the hell was he waiting for? “I’ll check this in for you then.” She gave him another smile as she opened the cover and scanned the barcode. When the screen popped up that a fine was owed, Bulma had to cover her mouth from yelling out a profanity. Her wide-eyed gaze slide back toward the man who was tapping his fingertips on the desk as if unconcerned with the situation he was facing. Slowly lowering her hand she blurted out, “Were you off planet?”

Those narrowed eyes shouldn’t have been able to lower any further without him blinking but somehow he managed it. Bulma froze in her seat as if he was a predator that was hunting her on sight alone.

“Of course I was off planet,” the alien man retorted with annoyance. What kind of morons did they have working in this place since his absence? “Do you think I would purposely keep a book for two years if I was able to return it on time?”

Behind closed lips Bulma gritted her teeth in frustration. A hand came up to rub at her forehead. “Do you even have the money to pay the fee? Why are you even returning this book after two full years? I’m sure the library has already replaced it and it would probably be cheaper just to pay the cost of the book.”

He scoffed, his fingertips rolling into his palm to make a fist. “Just tell me how much the fine is and I’ll pay it,” he told her in a controlled voice. He reached into the pocket of his navy blue dress shirt and extracted a credit card. He slid the plastic square toward her just as he had the book.

Bulma picked up the card and inspected it, making sure it was valid. “ID please.” She held out her other hand as she lifted her eyes to regard the man once more. He scowled as he reached back into his breast pocket but she kept the smile plastered on her face.

After she took the card from him and started doing her job, Vegeta rolled his eyes. When he was done here the next stop he was making was to her superior and filing a complaint. The woman was obviously too stupid to show respect while on the job. Damn Earthlings and their view that everyone should be equal or at least not bow and grovel to the higher class. Of course the woman probably wasn’t even aware to whom she was speaking with and offending.

“Okay, Vegeta,” Bulma said, sliding both cards and the receipt toward the alien. “Everything is taken care of now. Have a wonderful day.”

There was that fake smile again. He wanted to somehow make it disappear. Instead he collected his things and rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Thank you very much, Miss.” He looked for a name tag but didn’t see it. He stuffed the items into his pocket and tightened the hand that was still balled into a fist.

“Oh.” She looked down, moving a length of hair over her shoulder. “I must’ve forgotten to put my badge on,” she answered distractedly. “The name’s Bulma.”

This time when she smiled it was a little more relaxed but Vegeta was already too worked up. “Miss Bulma,” he spoke through clenched teeth as he gave her a brief nod.

As he walked away Bulma noticed two larger men stand from the small circle of chairs a few feet away from the desk. They flanked the smaller man as he passed them by and she saw the taller, bald one lean down to say something in Vegeta’s ear. The shorter man shook his head to whatever had been said and glanced to the other man who had long spikey hair that came down to his butt. So this Vegeta already had entourage to back him up, smart man because she already noted that the other students were adjusting their course to avoid the small group.

She sighed and rested her chin the palm of her hand. The man was an alien even though she could find no outward appearance that he was a different species. Of course, the two years she had been at this university Bulma had met plenty of humanoid aliens that could easily pass as humans. Sighing again she picked up the returned book and pushed herself up to put in the cart so it could be shelved. It was going to be a long while until her shift was over, so she would have to suppress the urge to search this mysterious Vegeta’s data information. Though once she got back to room it would be a whole different ballgame.

 ~S~

Vegeta hated being back on Earth. He still didn’t understand why his father was so adamant about the education offered here. It was no different from what he could learn on his own planet—except with less people milling about and the havoc of space travel. Clenching his jaw in frustration, Vegeta started peeling his tailored gloves off one finger at a time. He hated the damned the things but he wasn’t going around touching and getting affected by some unknown disease. Of course that the least of his problems at the moment. The only problem that had been resolved by leaving Planet Vegeta was renouncing the liaison that had sprung up on him.

Refusing to think in that direction, Vegeta focused on his father. The reason he was here in the first place was because of that old man. The first year had hell and had been a test of patience until he had been called back home because of a minor crisis. His father had tried to immediately ship him back off when the issue was resolved but Vegeta had stood his ground and refused to depart until he knew there wouldn’t be any lingering aftershocks. It had actually been an added bonus at the time as the relationship had just started and neither had been eager to end it.

A low rumble resembling a growl crept into his throat and he ripped the second glove off and threw it on the dresser. His bare hands fisted and landed next to the discarded accessories. He would concentrate on his studies and enjoy this time away from home for what it was worth. Not that Vegeta was looking forward to having to stay on this over-crowded planet for more than another year. Hopefully that would be enough time to satisfy his father and then he could get back to training full time.

“Vegeta.”

The gruff voice came from the doorway of his bedroom and Vegeta glared at his bodyguard—well one of them. “What?” he barked, pushing himself to an upright position. Not that it added much to his height, but the Prince of Saiyans didn’t need to tower over his opponents to intimidate them.

The tall, bald-headed man grinned. “Raditz and I were going down to the gym. Thought you might like to join us, boss.”

Vegeta scoffed. “No thanks, Nappa. I need more than a rousing bout of lifting weights and smelling body odor. I want that to be your fist mission in the morning. Find me a place that can handle the damage we dish out without collapsing or frightening these peons.”

“If such a place exists here on this planet,” Nappa grumbled before turning to leave.

“Nappa!”

The big man’s shoulders stiffened as he turned back around. Vegeta smirked at the reaction before wiping the emotion clean from his features. He stalked toward the other man tilting his head up to keep eye contact.

“While we are being lax here, I want to remind you and the dimwit that I am still your prince. When in private lodgings you will both defer to me and I will see fit to reprimand any behavior I find unacceptable,” Vegeta spit out the warning as he pointed a finger into the taller man’s chest.

“Yes, your majesty,” Nappa conceded and bowed to his superior. He straightened while waiting for his prince’s permission to be released from duty.

Vegeta waved a hand in the air. “You are dismissed, but remember to give Raditz my warning. You’re here on business not pleasure.”

Nappa gave a sharp nod of confirmation before turning on his heels and marching out of the room. Vegeta watched the burly man exit and call for his partner. It wasn’t long after that both men noisily left the two bedroom dorm suite. Taking a calming breath, Vegeta started stripping out of the confining clothing he was forced to wear. He should have known that shirt would be uncomfortable with all its damn buttons but he had liked the regal persona it gave him. Wandering around campus in it, however, had been stifling. That would be the next mission to set up: Get more comfortable but still noble-looking clothing.

A growl let loose as he almost ripped one of the buttons off. It was bad enough, though, that he had to breath the air that contained how many noxious viruses so he had wanted to keep the contaminants from his skin. He should have just brought along his battle suit and been done with it. There were plenty of other aliens coming and going from this hell hole so what did it matter if he dressed in the Saiyan custom? As a warrior he should always be prepared, but his father wanted Vegeta to become more diplomatic. The argument that it was something he should learn on the planet he would one day rule had become a battlefield that the guards and other castle staff had skirted around the two volatile Saiyans until the day Vegeta had left.

His tail reflexively unfurled from around his waist so he could finish his task of disrobing. The tip twitched irritably in the air behind him as he went to grab a pair of fresh underwear and pajama pants to change into after his shower. He let his shoulders relax at the thought of a nice hot shower and time alone—away from annoying “bodyguards”. Not that his mind would let him forget about his other problems—an authoritarian father and an aggravating ex. Damn those two for chasing him away from his home and back to where he didn’t belong. He didn’t want to fit in here or anywhere else, not when his place would eventually be the throne on Planet Vegeta.

He knew his duty, had been trained since birth to take over the throne and rule of the planet. There was also the responsibility of creating an heir. It was another point that his father kept dragging back up. Vegeta had argued that he still had plenty of time and would likely settle down in a few years. Sadly the disagreement was another positive about being shipped back to Earth. He could take some time and get back to basics on his training, as this place likely didn’t have a compound to do the kind of workout he wanted.

Stalking to the bathroom, Vegeta threw his dirty clothes in the hamper that was set up. His new clothing items were laid on the small bathroom counter before he grabbed a towel and turned the shower on. As soon as the water was hot enough he stepped under the stream and let the droplets of water soothe his tense muscles. He knew coming back to Earth would be a trial but after his run-in with the librarian girl, the day hadn’t gotten much better. Apparently a lot had changed in the two years he was gone and so he was forced to learn all new procedures to things he had gotten used to before he left. A soft growl curled his lips and his right hand clenched into a tight ball. He would serve his time here then go back home and confront his father on the displeasure he felt, and his father brought up the damned “produce an heir” dispute he would throw his own fist into the old man’s face.

Vegeta scrubbed his hands over his face, putting the thoughts once again out of his mind. Relax, that’s what he was supposed to be doing. It wouldn’t do to bitch and worry over things he couldn’t change or do anything about at the moment. He would concentrate on what was needed to be done here, on this damn planet, until he could get back home. His father and ex-companion could stay on Planet Vegeta while he got time alone to reassemble his plans.

This is a new story (AU) college story. I have no idea where exactly I'm going with this as this started out from a prompt about an overdue library book and was meant to be a stupid little oneshot. Unfortnately as most ideas it has grown out of control and it has actually been quite fun to write!

Chapter 2 --> inuy21.deviantart.com/art/Noth…

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
© 2015 - 2024 inuy21
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NoMusicEqualsNoLife's avatar
Love the idea and can't wait for more.