He's offended. He shouldn't be, has no reason to, but he is. That much is clear in the way he regards her, looking at her sharply from the corner of his eye like she just insulted his Saiyan ancestry and royal blood.

Vegeta's up and off the couch and near the door in less time than it takes for a human to blink. He's usually mindful and moves a lot slower than he's capable of, but irate as he is in this moment, he doesn't much care to.