He snorts. "Don't flatter yourself."

Yet he makes absolutely no move to leave the room, instead leaning back against the couch now that she's done tending to his wounds. Vegeta puts his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

In all honesty, he didn't mind her. Much. And he actually enjoyed arguing with her and the challenge that she presented when it came to her tolerance for him. Most people couldn't stand (or dared) to be within four feet of him, yet she was brazen and foolish enough to get up close and personal without concern for her safety.

Without bothering to open his eyes, Vegeta removes an arm to gesture towards the television. "Bring something up on the screen."

Remotes and the fact that those screens were called TVs weren't something he'd grasped yet. Vegeta didn't watch TV, and the only reason he was demanding she put something on was so he could focus on something other than her and do something with his time that was less boring than nothing while she insisted he take it easy for one night.

He absolutely refused to put further thought towards why in the hell he was even bothering with complying.