Underneath Your Clothes

by Catherine D. Kobasiuk




Disclaimer:  I do not own DBZ. ( It isn’t hard to find out who really does. ) I just love DBZ.  I don’t own Shakira’s song.  I just really like it too.  I did this for fun and to feed my ego.  I make no money on it and will probably never make a red cent writing….. period.

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“Bulma! You should eat something!”



“ I can’t Mom, I’m too nervous. I’m just going to take a shower and start getting ready.”



I duck into the bathroom and shut the door, cutting off my mother’s reply. I can’t believe it’s today already.  I can’t believe I’m this nervous either, and I still have a couple of hours before I have to meet you at the courthouse.



I start the shower and adjust the temperature. Heck, I can’t believe you’ve actually agreed to do this at all. I wonder, not for the first time, if you are the same alien who came to this planet all those years ago, ready to destroy it.





You're a song

Written by

The hands of God



The power you wielded was almost God-like. Heck, you thought you were better than any God.  I bet back then, if a bonafied God had shown up and told you that you were not the greatest thing in the universe, you would have blasted that God right back to the Next Dimension.



I had never seen destruction like you had caused; I was scared to death of it.  But then I saw you…. met you…was insulted by you.  My curiosity quickly turned to obsession.  Yamcha was NOT pleased.





Don't get me wrong 'cuz

This might sound

To you a bit odd

But you're the place

Where all my thoughts

Go hiding

And right under your clothes

Is where I find them







I finish my shower, wrap my hair in a towel, and go back to my room.



“Do you need any help, dear?”  My mother calls from her room.



“Not yet Mom, I’ll call you when I do.”  I answer, sitting down at my vanity.  The routine is old hat to me.  I’ve been primping since I was twelve.  Hair, makeup, and then clothes last, so as not to get makeup on my outfit.  I look over at the dress I’m going to wear. It’s a gown (call it a wedding gown, damn it).  I haven’t even called it that out loud yet.  I’m so afraid of jinxing myself.



You’re just as bad. You spent last night at the Lookout with Piccolo and Dende.  When you told me you wouldn’t be home last night, I got scared.



“Why the hell not?!” I yelled.



“Because, onna, on this mud-ball of a planet, it is considered unlucky for a betrothed couple to spend the night before the wedding under the same roof!”



Then you flew off with your tux in a bag and a duffle over your shoulder.  I must have stood there with my mouth hanging open for a full fifteen minutes. How the hell did you know that old superstition anyway?



My hair is done. I guess it’s ok.  I’m so nervous, I don’t think I can trust my own opinion right now.  I think I hear Yamcha downstairs.  It sounds like he is playing with the baby.  Now to do my makeup. Less is more, less is more.



A tuxedo. You are going to wear a tux.  I nearly died of shock when I showed you what I wanted you to wear today and you didn’t shout obscenities at me.  You just looked at it and nodded.  Not that what you wear is really that important.  I never figured the clothes made the man.  It is what is under those clothes that’s important.  I remember when I got my first glimpse of what was under that training uniform of yours.



Underneath your clothes
There's an endless story

There's the man I chose

There's my territory

And of all the things

I deserve

For being such

A good girl honey





You had blown up the Gravity Chamber, utterly and completely, for the first, but not the last time. It was before Goku had even returned from outer space. You damn near killed yourself.  My father, mother and I had to tend your wounds and nurse you back to health.   You were a lousy patient.



But what I remember most is seeing all those scars on your body for the first time.  Some were small, but many were pretty large.  I had never seen scars like that on anybody before.  Sure, I’d seen Yamcha’s and Tien’s scars but they were, as I knew, from only one incident apiece.  You had scars that looked like they spanned decades.  Some were relatively new but I could tell some were very old.



My mother has a scar on her leg. She got it as a little girl. It was one long line when she got it, but as she grew up, it split.  If you look carefully, you can see where it split.  You have a lot of scars like that.  Scars that I bet you got as a small child.  That made me consider what your life had been like before you came to earth.



I always knew that you were beautiful. A person would have to be blind not to see your incredible physique, especially in all that spandex you wore.  What was hidden under it, though, seemed more meaningful to me. I had seen the scars your clothes hid and I could feel the pain they gave evidence to. My mind reeled at the thought of the scars I couldn’t see, the pain you kept hidden inside you.



I’ve finished my makeup.



“Mom!” I holler down the corridor.



“Yes, Bulma?”



“Could you give me a hand with my dress please?”  Gown. It’s my wedding gown.



“Of course, dear.” My mother comes upstairs and smiles at me. I wonder if she can see how nervous I am.  She starts taking the …gown…. off the hanger.



“Yamcha is here. He’s playing with the baby and talking to your father.” She informs me.



Because of you

I forgot the

Smart ways to lie

Because of you

I'm running out of

Reasons to cry

When the friends are gone

When the party's over

We'll still belong

To each other



Yamcha.  Humph, how things change. When we were kids, I led him around by his nose.  Kami, I tortured that poor boy.  I’m not an idiot; I know exactly how I am.  I have to be in charge, I have to be right, and I have to say what I think…no matter what. I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did, really. It just goes to show you how much Yamcha must have loved me back then. If we had gotten married when I got out of college, he would have taken up drinking for sure, just to cope. I might have too.  I just never felt secure with Yamcha, but he never really did anything to make me feel insecure.  Maybe I just wasn’t ready then.  It probably was just that he wasn’t the one for me and I wasn’t the one for him. Not like you and me.  I need a man with a thick skin and I guess you need…whatever I have. I should ask you what that is someday.



My mother finishes putting my gown on me and doing all the Kami-damned buttons on the back. Then she reaches around my neck and places a pearl necklace on me.



“This was your great-grandmothers,” she explains, “She wore it at her wedding, my mother, your grand mother, wore it at her wedding, and I wore it when I married your father.”



I look at myself in the mirror.  The necklace is beautiful, and I tell my mother so.



“Thanks Mom.”



She just smiles at me in the mirror.  “Are you all ready?” she asks, “Then let’s go down stairs before your father gets distracted by something in his lab.”



Underneath your clothes

There's an endless story

There's the man I chose

There's my territory

And of all the things

I deserve

For being such

A good girl honey





My mother and I go downstairs to find little Trunks climbing all over Dad. Yamcha and my father look up as we enter the living room.



“You look lovely, sweetheart,” says my father.  I blush. My father’s opinion has always been very important to me.



“Yeah, Bulma, you look great.” Yamcha agrees smiling.  His face is bright and happy; I’m relieved.  I was a little worried about what his reaction would be to today.  “Hey, short stuff! Look at how pretty your Mommy looks.” He laughs, while tickling Trunks.



~Please Dende, let Yamcha find his someone.~



My mother takes pictures of Dad and me.  Dad takes pictures of Mom and me.  Yamcha takes pictures of all four of us, which wasn’t easy, considering that Trunks never stops moving now that he can walk.





I knew that I was seriously in love with you when I realized I didn’t care what my friends would say about us being together.  I know they aren’t the judgmental types, but they really didn’t like you Except Goku of course, but who can figure out what went on in his head? It was always like he was keeper of a secret truth that the rest of us only suspected existed.



I love you more than all that's on the planet

Movin' talkin' walkin' breathing

You know it's true

Oh baby it's so funny

You almost don't believe it

As every voice is hanging from the silence

Lamps are hanging from the ceiling

Like a lady tied to her manners

I'm tied up to this feeling





Yamcha had offered to drive all of us to the courthouse.  My father has a ground car big enough for all of us waiting outside.



“We should be going,” my father states, “You don’t want to be late and keep Vegeta waiting.”  My stomach does a flip. Will he be there?  I can only nod and swallow my heart.  We all get into the car. Somehow, we get Trunks into his car seat without ruining my dress.



“Well, if Vegeta can’t make it, I’d stand in for him,” laughs Yamcha.  “ Though it might be the last thing I do. Ha, ha.”



I never said what I really felt and I just accepted that you didn’t either. The baby only made me feel more attached to you. All I could think about was you, even when you left to train in space to become a super saiya-jin.   I really wasn’t all that mad at you when you didn’t rescue the baby and me when Dr. Gero blew up my flier.  I knew what you were thinking. There were five other people there who could catch us, and you were busy. That was the last time I did something that stupid with Trunks in tow.  Someone has to be the grownup ,after all.



Kami, you had done it. You were a super saiyanjin.  I can’t sense powers, but it still gave me goosebumps.



The androids…Cell. I felt so useless while everyone was training to beat Cell.  I can’t believe I actually did such a chauvinistic, stereotypical thing as make clothes.  Not just any clothes, saiya-jin fighting uniforms!  I knew you would need new clothes after you trained for a “year”.  By the time you and our Future son came out of the Chamber, you were lucky to have any fabric still on you.



You were so cocky when you came out.  I had even more goosebumps. You never thanked me for the clothes, but you changed into them quick enough.  Goku and Gohan enjoyed them too, for a while. However,  Piccolo and Tien were insulted when I suggested they wear the same outfit,  as if that would have made them into planet purging saiya-jins. Like I’ve said before, it isn’t the clothes, it’s what is in them that’s important.





Underneath your clothes

There's an endless story

There's the man I chose

There's my territory

And all the things I deserve

For being such a good girl honey



Yamcha pulls up in front of the courthouse. My father helps my mother and me out of the car. While Yamcha recapsulizes the car, my mother and I fuss with my “gown”.   Dad holds Trunks.



I look up to find you staring at me.  I blink. You are standing at the door of the courthouse in your tux. I hardly register that Krillin is there beside you. You look so crisp and you have your arms folded across your chest in your habitual pose. Your dark eyes seem to swallow me whole. Damn, I have goose bumps again.  You actually showed up.  You didn’t run off to space, or get into an earth-shattering fight.



I lick my lips, letting my nerves sabotage my makeup. I smile then, and you smirk back, but your eyes smile at me.  I can’t wait to thank you properly for doing this for me.  I’ll have to get you out of that tux first though.



Underneath your clothes

There's an endless story

There's the man I chose

There's my territory

And all the things I deserve

For being such a good girl honey