#oh smoking puar

[koinekid]

K18: Worst Laid Plans

For Chestnut Fest 2018

Prompt: Jealousy

Summary: Yamcha has a plan to force Krillin to make a move on Eighteen. Things don’t go according to plan.

Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended.

Worst Laid Plans

By koinekid

Yamcha adjusted his tie in the mirror and shot a dark look at his best friend and roommate. The shapeshifting cat floated over his shoulder, grinning at him.

“It isn’t a date, Puar!”

“Are you dressing up?” the cat asked.

Yamcha sighed. “Well, yes.”

“Is she dressing up?”

“Probably.”

“Are you going to dinner?”

“Yes, Puar, we’re going to dinner. We may even get dessert.”

“To share?”

“No, not to share. Separate forks, separate plates, on separate sides of the table. In separate restaurants if I had my way.”

“How is this not a date?”

“Because neither of us have a shred of romantic interest in the other.”

“Why not? Don’t you think she’s pretty? I think she’s pretty.”

“Gorgeous. One of the most beautiful women on the planet.”

“But you’re not attracted to me?”

“Me? What? Puar, stop that!”

The cat had shapeshifted into a breathtaking blue-eyed blonde wearing a slinky red dress that showed off copious amounts of cleavage. Reaching up, the facsimile of a woman brushed her hair behind her ear in an all too familiar gesture.

“You didn’t answer me,” Eighteen said in Puar’s voice. A moment later Eighteen vanished and the cat reappeared in a poof of smoke. “Are you attracted to her?”

“No way. She’s much too quiet, and when she does speak, she’s pushy, arrogant, sarcastic—”

“You know, you basically described Bulma…except for the quiet part.”

“Shut up, Puar.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Then how about this? Krillin, one of our oldest friends, is head over heels in love with her—whether he’ll admit it or not.”

Puar blinked, then thrust his paws onto his hips. “You big jerk! Why are you dating the woman Krillin loves?”

“It’s not a date!”

 <<>> 

 Her dress was black with long sleeves, an off-the-shoulder neckline, and a skirt that ended just above her knees. It drew attention to all the right places in a subtle, tasteful way that Krillin loved. He should have. Eighteen bought the dress with him in mind.

As she sat in the restaurant across from Yamcha, her thoughts kept returning to the forlorn look in Krillin’s eyes when they left for their so-called date, a look of finality as if, in shutting the door to Kame House, she was shutting the door on his hopes and dreams.

It very nearly broke her heart, and she hadn’t spoken for several minutes into the flight, focusing on the hum of the air car’s engine and desperately holding back tears.

Why hadn’t Krillin spoken up? She’d given him the opportunity, asked him point blank after he complimented her dress, “Is there anything else you want to say to me?”

Tell me to stay with you! her inner voice practically screamed. Krillin only shook his head.

Hope soared a heartbeat later when he placed a hand on her arm. Through her silky sleeve, she could feel his caress and nearly moaned. But he merely said, “Yamcha’s a very lucky man.”

“Thanks.” She jerked her arm away and leaned against the wall, staring into space and waiting for her date to arrive.

The waiter who arrived to take their drinks order wanted to lecture her on proper table manners, she could tell. She also didn’t care. If she wanted to sit with her head propped in her hands, she would. It was an appropriate position when one was both miserable and bored out of her skull.

The restaurant was proving a disappointment. It posted great reviews, and she secretly wanted to dine here for months. But she’d never mentioned it because Krillin would have found a way to make it happen. And she knew he couldn’t afford it.

Even if the restaurant were perfect, it wouldn’t have mattered. Because the wrong person sat across the table. Her date was too tall. He lacked a double row of incense burns to add character to his forehead. And he was nervously chattering like an idiot.

Why did she agree to this stupid plan in the first place? Oh, yeah. ‘Cause the man she wanted refused to make a damn move, and when his idiot friend approached her with a scheme to force a reaction out of her should-be suitor, she had been desperate enough to say yes. Big mistake.

Krillin reacted, all right—by bottling up his emotions and watching her walk away with another man. She wanted to scream or snap the table in half.

The idiot was talking again, probably telling another baseball story she couldn’t care less about. Krillin always held her interest. He would’ve made half a dozen observations about the pretentiousness of the restaurant by now. Not to be cruel, but to make her smile. And her smile would be enough for him. Yamcha seemed offended that she didn’t laugh like an airhead at his lame jokes. Some of Krillin’s jokes were corny, but none were lame. Even when she rolled her eyes, she still had a good time.

She sighed. I miss him.

Had she spoken aloud? She must have because Yamcha stopped rambling. When she stared at him, he laughed and rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture that reminded her of Krillin.

“You know,” he said. “I had a hard time convincing Puar this wasn’t a date.”

She crinkled her brow and made the mistake of asking, “Who?”

“Puar, my best friend. He’s a shapeshifting cat.”

She looked at him as if he were a moron. “Like the pig?”

“Oolong? Yeah, they actually went to school together.”

Eighteen turned away, not at all interested in this topic of conversation.

“That’s a lovely dress, Eighteen.”

Who asked you?

“I bet Krillin’s jaw hit the floor when he saw it.”

She turned slightly in Yamcha’s direction. “He told me it was beautiful.”

“That must have been nice to hear.”

She shrugged. “It’s not like it was a revelation. I bought the dress for him.”

“You really love him, huh?”

Warmth flooded her cheeks. “If I did, I wouldn’t tell you before I told him.”

“Fair enough.” Yamcha leaned across the table. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Her brow rose, and a dangerous, threatening expression came over her face. “To do what, exactly?” If he tried to take her to a love hotel, she’d tear out his spine and shove it straight up his—

“N-nothing.” He waved his hands in front of his chest. “I can tell you’re unhappy, and I’m having a poor time myself. No offense. So, how about we bring the evening to a close?”

She nodded. It was the first good idea he’d had all night.

“Still, I promised you dinner, so if you’d rather stay…”

“I don’t have an appetite.”

“Let’s head back then. We’ve probably stayed out long enough to get Krillin good and jealous.”

Eighteen doubted it. On the flight back to the island, she mused that Krillin would let her make her own decisions even if he suffered for them. The thought of Eighteen and Yamcha together could be eating him up inside, and he wouldn’t say a word if he thought his friend could make her happy. It was endearing and infuriating at the same time. As much as she was loathe to admit it, Eighteen wanted a man willing to fight for her. Maybe Krillin just wasn’t that man.

She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed the air car landing on the beach or the change in air pressure as Yamcha opened the door and moved around to the passenger side. She even accepted, without complaint, the hand he offered to help her exit the vehicle.

A tear slid down her face as she contemplated what to say to Krillin. The next moment she felt a thumb wiping that tear away and looked up to see Yamcha staring at her in concern.

 <<>> 

 His touch sent an icy chill through her body, and for the time it took his hand to withdraw, she seriously contemplated killing him.

Unaware of his peril, Yamcha turned to survey the house, while Eighteen remained stock-still, trying to calm herself so she wouldn’t attack him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t look now, but Krillin is watching us.”

She ignored his warning and was able to make out a silhouette in the kitchen window. It might be Krillin.

“I have an idea to get him motivated if you’re willing to try it.”

At this point, she just wanted the evening to be over. “I guess. What do you have in mind?”

He swallowed hard. “Let me show you.”

 <<>> 

 Yamcha knew he was risking his friendship with Krillin by inviting Eighteen on a date. Even if everything turned out well, his friend might never forgive him. Dare he try this last gambit?

He looked into Eighteen’s questioning face. She was pretty. Puar was right about that. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Just remember, we’re doing this for Krillin.”

 <<>> 

 Her eyes widened as he grabbed her shoulders and leaned in. But the only thing his puckered lips felt was the impact of her fist rendering him unconscious.

 <<>> 

 “Are all your friends perverts?” Eighteen stomped into the kitchen. “Well?”

Krillin shook his head, thoroughly confused. He’d just chased his master upstairs to stop him from spying on Eighteen. “Why do you say that?”

“You saw. That bastard tried to kiss me.”

“Yamcha?” Krillin felt his stomach drop to his feet.

“You know any other bastards I made the mistake of going out with tonight? Why the hell did I think this was a good idea?”

“I can’t believe Yamcha would do that.”’

Eighteen advanced on him. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“The moron came at me with his lips puckered up like a fish. What’s your explanation?”

“That does sound pretty damning. You, uh, didn’t actually…” He motioned to his lips. At her glare, he amended, “You didn’t hurt him too bad, did you?”

She crossed her arms. “What do you care?”

“He’s my friend. I don’t want to see him killed.”

“I didn’t kill him, all right. I just knocked him out. Might have broken a few teeth.”

“Eighteen!”

“I’m kidding, but it would have served him right.”

The electric kettle on the counter began to bubble. Krillin had been in the process of making tea. He shut it off and looked at her. She nodded, and he returned with two cups with milk, no sugar, just the way she liked it.

Accepting one gratefully, she joined him at the table. As she sipped, he rubbed her back, and she leaned into the touch.

“So…I guess you won’t be going out with him anymore.”

“What’s it to you?”

He shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Is that all it is—curiosity?”

“What else would it be?”

“I don’t know, Krillin. You tell me.”

The movements of his hand stopped. Their eyes met. He licked his lips. “I care about you, Eighteen, and…”

“Yes?” She set down her tea and leaned closer.

“I…” He bit his lip. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Damn it, Krillin.” She stood abruptly, knocking over her chair, and stalking to the door.

“Where are you going?”

In truth, she had no idea, but she said, “To check on Yamcha. His air car hasn’t taken off yet.”

Krillin stood. “Good idea. I’ll go with you.”

She waved him off. “No need. We’ll want privacy in case I decide to kiss him.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Got to find some way to apologize, and if I did knock out some teeth, no other girls will want to kiss him for a while. Hell, maybe I’ll ask him for another date.” She grasped the doorknob. 

“Wait,” Krillin cried. “Don’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” His eyes darted about the room in search of some nonexistent help. As her patience ran out, she started to turn the knob. In a panic, Krillin shouted, “You shouldn’t be with Yamcha! You should be with me!”

“Krillin.” You’re fighting for me. Thank you. She wanted to take him in her arms, but he wasn’t finished.

“Hear me out. I’ve loved you since we met. I know I’m not much to look at, and I’m not some big baseball star, and I’m not loaded with cash. I can only offer you my heart, my devotion, and my promise to love you through this life and the next, and…and...Eighteen?”

Tears streamed down her face, and no one was more surprised by that fact than she. “I never cared about Yamcha.”

“You didn’t?”

“Know why?”

Krillin shook his head.

“Because for all his wealth and fame, he can’t hold a candle to you.” She closed the distance between them and took hold of both his hands, raising them to her lips and kissing them tenderly. “You taught me what it means to care about another person. Do you think I’m going to abandon you because some guy starts flashing cash?”

“Of course not, but attempts to play the kissing bandit aside, Yamcha is a decent guy.”

“But he isn’t you. He isn’t the man I love.”

A smile lit up his face. “The man you—?”

“You heard right: I love you, Krillin. I know I’m materialistic and greedy. I want the best clothes and the finest things. I always will, but I’d trade them all for a life spent with you.”

“Then, why did you go out with him?”

“To make you jealous. I waited for ages for you to make a move, and you never did.”

Krillin hung his head. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t imagine that you wanted to be with me.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Most women don’t want to date a dwarf, Eighteen.”

“You’re not a dwarf, Krillin, and even if you were—”

“It wouldn’t make a difference? It has to every woman I ever showed interest in.”

She took hold of his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. “You didn’t know me before. I kissed you the day we met, or had you forgotten?”

“I’ll never forget that day, but you can’t honestly call that kiss romantic.”

“Romantic, no, but affectionate. I gave you that peck on the cheek because I wanted to. I played it off as intimidation so my brother wouldn’t make fun of me.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“How’s this for serious? I’ve never kissed a man on the lips. Ne-ver. And I am going to kiss you. Not just once but every day for the rest of our lives together.” She grinned and added, “Even on days I’m mad at you.”

“So, you and Yamcha really never—”

“Wouldn’t even let him hold the door for me.”

Krillin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Does it bother you,” she asked, “the thought of another guy touching me?”

“Of course.”

“Then I guess our plan worked.”

“I suppose.”

Her grin turned into a frown. “I’m sorry for making you feel bad. If you were dating someone else, I’d want to kill her.”

“You never have to worry about that.”

“Not getting down on yourself again, are you?”

“No, just speaking the truth. There’s only one woman in the world for me, and she’s standing right here.”

“Good. Then how about you show this lucky lady how much she means to you?”

“I think that can be arranged.” Then, with one hand on her hip and the other threaded through her silky hair, he drew her mouth to his and spent the next several minutes demonstrating just that.

 <<>> 

 “So let me get this straight,” Yamcha said. “I take her out to dinner, and you end up with the good-night kiss?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Krillin agreed, although good-night make-out session would be more accurate. Eighteen insisted she was a slow learner who would require frequent and thorough demonstrations of her new boyfriend’s affections. The first lesson alone lasted twenty euphoric minutes before Krillin’s conscience compelled him to check on Yamcha. Eighteen didn’t offer to go with him, but she did fetch an icepack from the freezer and wrap it in a dish towel. That was as close to an act of kindness as Yamcha would get from her tonight. As Krillin was leaving, she told him to hurry back. He watched her ascend the stairs and bypass her bedroom in favor of his.

Tempting as it was to leave Yamcha to fend for himself, Krillin could spare five minutes to send him on his way. Seeing him in person, he suspected it would take longer. He winced as Yamcha pressed the ice pack to his swollen cheek. His split lip and black eye didn’t look good either.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Krillin had found his friend semi-conscious with his head resting on the cool leather seat on the passenger side of his air car.

“I don’t suppose I’d be welcome to crash on the couch?”

Krillin sucked air through his teeth. “Probably not the best idea tonight.”

“I figured. Do you mind if I bunk out in one of the beach chairs?”

“I’ll get you some blankets.”

By the time Krillin returned, Yamcha had settled in. He’d left his jacket and tie inside the car and stripped off his shoes and socks. Krillin sank into the chair beside him and handed over the blankets.

“Thanks.”

Krillin only nodded.

Silence hung over them for a while, neither willing to broach the topic that filled the air between them. When Krilin started to rise, Yamcha blurted, “Are we good? I’d hate to lose our friendship over this.”

Before responding, Krillin took a deep breath. “If I were to be mad at you, I’d have to be mad at Eighteen. And I refuse to do that. I don’t know which of you concocted this plan…”

Yamcha started to raise his hand.

“…and I don’t want to know, but you both agreed to it. It hurt like hell seeing the two of you together, but I don’t know whether I would have worked up the courage to tell her how I feel otherwise. ‘Are we good?’ We will be. Just give it time.”

Yamcha took a moment to absorb Krillin’s words. Then, “Thanks, pal.”

“Sure.”

“And, Krillin, if you want to hit me, it’s okay. I deserve it.”

Krillin broke into a grin. “Nah. My girlfriend hits harder than I do, and she already did a number on you.”

“Girlfriend already? Way to go, man.”

“Heh, yeah. But, now that you mention it…” Krillin scratched his chin. “Eighteen did insist it was my responsibility to stand up for her honor. So…”

Yamcha gulped. “I understand.”

Krillin drew back his fist and lightly tapped his friend on the arm. “If she asks, I flattened you.”

They shared a laugh, grateful to ease the tension between them.

“But it should go without saying,” Krillin added, “that if you ever try to kiss her again—”

“I know. You’ll make good on that threat to punch me.”

“No, I’ll twist off your head like a bottle cap.”

Yamcha blanched. “You—wait—what?”

“Have a good night.” With a final clap on the shoulder, Krillin walked back to the house, whistling a tune and leaving behind a bewildered and slightly nervous friend to ponder the influence his new girlfriend was having over him.

 The End.

Thanks for reading; reviews and comments are appreciated