Hearing the loud knock on her bedroom's door Bulma forced her eyes open. Yawning, she slowly sat up, stretching her sleep stiffened limbs. She cringed as a more violent banging replaced the knocking. Grumbling to herself Bulma grabbed her housecoat from the end of her bed and shrugged into it. Finally the banging stopped, but it was then replaced with a cold, calculated threat.

    "Woman, if you are not out here in three seconds I'll rip this door off of its hinges."

    Bulma merely yawned again, glancing in her mirror as she walked by it. What a mess she was. Last night was a blur to her, too much [drinking], too much... well, too much Yamcha. Bulma thought with a smirk.

    "WOMAN! DAMN IT! WAKE UP!"

    Bulma winced as her head throbbed due to the yelling.

    "WHAT!?!" Bulma screamed as she flung open the door. She was slightly taken aback as she saw Vegeta standing there, wearing only baggy jogging pants. His body was gleaming with sweat, and his bare chest heaved, trying to still catch his breath from his intense training. Bulma caught herself and leaned against her doorframe, trying like mad to act unfazed by the man in front of her.

    "Hard day at the gym, Vegeta?" Bulma chided. She smiled slightly as she folded her arms over her chest. Vegeta stopped his tirade the moment the door opened. His words stuck in his throat as his eyes fell on Bulma's feminine form. Her eyes were still groggy from slumber, but were the bright blue that they always were. She was wearing a housecoat over gray boxers and a tank top, which showed off her strong flat stomach and long, beautiful legs. Vegeta shook the thoughts from his head and scowled. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a Prince, he reminded himself.

    "Woman. The gravity machine is broken again. Fix it." He demanded coldly.

    "Excuse me?" Bulma's blue eyes flashed dangerously. She quit leaning on the doorframe and stood straight and tall, mostly to flaunt her three inches she had in height over Vegeta. "This is MY house, Vegeta. I give the orders around here. Not YOU. Get it? This will never be your house, therefore, you can never... say it with me now... EVER give orders here. Do you understand?" Bulma said, dangerously quiet. She looked down at him, knowing that it annoyed the hell out of him that he had to look up at her.

    "Do you want to die?" Vegeta asked her, nonchalantly. She took a step back, appalled that he just threatened her so.

    "What?" Bulma stammered. She searched his eyes, scared at what she might find.

    "I said, do you want to die? If you do, than don't fix the blasted machine, I won't train, and we will all die in a YEAR!" Vegeta growled. Bulma sighed with relief. She really didn't believe that Vegeta would act out against her, besides, she smiled to herself, who would feed him then?

    "What are you smiling at, Woman?" Vegeta asked, slightly annoyed.

    "Nothing Vegeta. Go eat something. I'll have your precious machine up and running in no time." Without thinking she leaned over and pecked Vegeta on the cheek. Stepping back, she saw the confused look flash across Vegeta's face and she knew that it mirrored her own. Before he could question her she stepped back into her room and quickly closed the door.

    "Girl, what was that?" She asked herself as she leaned against her closed door. Running her fingers through her hair Bulma shook her head. What was she doing? She just kissed Vegeta, of all people! The slimy alien that tried to kill all of her friends at one time or another! Involuntarily, Bulma put the tips of her fingers to her lips, she could still taste Vegeta's skin on her lips.

    "Well, I guess I can cross off kissing Vegeta on my life's To Do list." Bulma joked to herself, trying to explain away the event. In the back of her mind, however, there was a nagging suspicion that it was more than just a simple peck on the cheek.

* * * *

    After spending hours reworking the circuitry, Bulma wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. Not wanting to have to interact with Vegeta after what she had done, she wore headphones, and worked to the heavy and melancholy lyrics of Metallica, one of the American bands that she liked so much...and Yamcha hated. Bulma frowned at the thought. He was so far into the Rave scene it was disgusting. Bulma stopped working and leaned back on one leg, twirling the soldering rod she was using in her fingers. She had went to one of his precious Raves with him before, and she couldn't handle it. She was happy for him that he was so into it, but he was trying to force her into it too. The fact was, the whole scene seemed to be an actual way of life, and with her someday going to inherit Capsule Corp. Bulma didn't want that lifestyle messing with what she can, and will, have. Mouthing the words to "Unforgiven 2" Bulma shook her head.

    Any future husband of hers was going to have to sacrifice a little of his bachelorhood if he ever wanted to be with her. Scowling, Bulma realized that Yamcha didn't ever act like he would want to change, not for her anyway. Her mood turning dark, Bulma leaned back over the exposed circuit board, trying to figure out a way to deflect the brunt of Vegeta's ki blasts, so the interior of the machine wouldn't suffer so much damage. Being so engrossed in the music that was playing in her ears, Bulma didn't hear the steady footfalls approach behind her. She finally found the correct circuit to bypass, and she began leaning in carefully with her breathing a little stressed, she didn't want to hit the circuit right beside it. If she did, it would spark, destroying the whole circuit board. Slipping a nonconductive piece of cloth between the two circuits, Bulma shakily cut the circuit wire and soldered the ends. Pulling the electrician's tape from her belt, Bulma wrapped the exposed wires carefully, so they wouldn't cross and spark. Finishing, she slipped the circuit board back into it's place in the floor, and then replaced the cover. Spinning the soldering rod in her hand once again, Bulma rose to her feet and turned, running straight into Vegeta's muscled chest. Startled, she dropped the soldering rod, and went to catch it before it hit the ground. She was successful, but instead of catching the rubber handle, she caught the red hot tip of the tool, causing an instant white hot blister on her hand.

    Vegeta looked confused as Bulma yelped in pain, and he cocked his head slightly, furrowing his brow, as she dropped the tool she had been so desperate to save. She grabbed her hand, holding it close to her body, and tears were forming in her sky blue eyes. Kicking the tool box at her feet, Bulma spun, trying to take away from the pain in her hand.

    "What the hell are you doing, woman?" Vegeta growled. Bulma stopped her strange dance and glared at the Saiyan Prince.

    "What the hell do you think I'm doing? I burnt my damned hand because you scared the hell out of me!" Bulma winced as the burn began to throb. Pushing past him, she had to find a first aid kit so she could at least stop the pain.

    Running into the house, Bulma growled. "Damn Saiyan! How dare he not tell me that he was standing right behind me! He was probably there the whole time, with a great view of my ass!" Bulma thought to herself as she pushed her way through the front door. She was surprised that it actually didn't bother her that much that Vegeta was watching her. She must be more interesting to him than he lets on. Grimacing, she shook the thoughts from her head as she searched the kitchen cupboards for the first aid kit. Moaning, she couldn't find one. Turning on the tap, Bulma held her hand under the cool water, hoping that the pain would subside. She knew that there was a first aid kit in the gravity machine, she put it there herself in case Vegeta ever got hurt. Again. She just wanted to get away from Vegeta before he realized that it was her stupidity that caused the burn in the first place. Cursing, she slammed the cupboard door closest to her, feeling slightly better after abusing the inanimate object. The headphones were still covering her ears, and the CD track skipped ahead to the next song. Another American band began to play in her ears. The song "Chemicals Between Us" by Bush, one of her [other] favorite bands, distracted her from her pain.

    Keeping her hand under the cool water, Bulma jumped up and sat on the cupboard, like she used to do when she was younger. Closing her eyes, she concentrated harder on the lyrics, trying to block out the pain. Hearing the front door open and close over the music, Bulma ignored it, thinking that it was either one of her parents, or Yamcha. Her eyes still closed, she felt the water suddenly stop flowing over her hand, and she almost fell off of the counter when she saw Vegeta standing in front of her with the first aid kit in his hand. Seeing her fumbling attempt to catch herself from falling, Vegeta sighed and reached out his arm, allowing her to catch it. With a sigh of relief Bulma grabbed it and steadied herself, pushing herself back to her original spot. With a self conscience smile, Bulma pulled her injured hand in closer to her, keeping it against her stomach. She jumped slightly and pulled back as Vegeta reached for it, and whimpered in pain as he scowled at her and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her arm toward him, inspecting the wound. Turning her arm roughly, Vegeta put unnecessary pressure on the white blister.

    Bulma squirmed in his grasp, and she gasped in pain.

    "Vegeta...you're...hurting me." Bulma whispered, almost inaudible.

    Glancing up at her eyes, he knew that it was true. He could see tears welling in her clear blue eyes, and she was biting her bottom lip. Letting her arm go, Vegeta stepped back from her and grabbed a wash cloth. Silently he ran it under the tap and turned back to her, holding out his hand. Bulma placed her injured hand in his as she watched Vegeta gently treat her wound. She couldn't understand why he was doing this. She watched his face as he worked on her arm, but all she could see was the perpetual scowl, and his intense black eyes. She smiled slightly, she could easily get lost in those eyes.

    Even after he was done, she watched him with a puzzled look on her face. He noticed the look and glared at her.

    "WHAT?" He almost yelled. Bulma jumped, after seeing such gentleness in him, she wasn't expecting him to yell.

    "Nothing." She mumbled. Glancing down at her hand, she flexed her fingers in the bandaging that Vegeta applied, happy that she still had the dexterity she would need to work and write. Looking back up at her houseguest, she saw him standing in front of her, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. Slipping the earphones down to her neck, she knew that he wanted to say something.

    "That noise maker that you wear on your head is stupid." He remarked in his holier-than- thou attitude.

    "Huh?" Bulma asked, confused.

    "Maybe it is just you that is stupid. I'll make this simple so that even you can understand it. You are even more deaf when you wear that thing, and you are going to hurt yourself again if you keep wearing it. Why don't you just use your idiot human's noise maker? Every time that pathetic rat tries to train, he puts on his pathetic music."

    "I actually didn't want to bother you, Vegeta. I knew you had to train and...." Bulma said nervously but stopped as Vegeta cut her off.

    "You always bother me woman. However, your music isn't as annoying as the idiot's." Vegeta was slightly confused, by now Bulma should be screaming her head off at him for first insulting her, and then for insulting her loser boyfriend. Turning around, he began to walk out of the room.

    "Wait! Vegeta...why did you just help me?" Bulma said, almost hoping [he would] say that he was worried for her. But she knew that such a thing would never happen. Vegeta paused, he himself really [did not] know for sure. When he first noticed that Bulma had hurt herself, his first instinct was to try to stop the pain, and he hated himself for it. He was surprised as he first searched for the first aid kit himself, and then he was amazed that he had went and searched out Bulma, just so she would feel better.

    Finally, he came up with the lamest answer he could think of.

    "I'm hungry, and you can't cook and whine at the same time. Hell, you can't even cooking and breathe at the same time!" The Saiyan prince said as he reached the door. He could only smirk as the first aid kit slammed into the wall beside his head, followed by an explicate amount of insults and cursing. At least she was back to normal, Vegeta mused.

* * * *

    Yamcha was sorting through the security video archives in the central security console that monitored the whole of Capsule Corps. This included the house that Bulma was now sharing with that damned Saiyan, Vegeta. There were cameras placed at all the entrances to the house, and in the main living areas. He knew that he really shouldn't be so suspicious of Bulma, but he knew that he would never trust Vegeta. Yamcha's mind began running wild with the thoughts of the evil Saiyan seducing his Bulma, who was so damned trusting that she probably [would not] even realize it until it was too late. Sometimes he hated that she was so trusting, but then he thought better of it, because of her trust in him. [She] never asked him about the broken dates, or the broken promises. Hey, he couldn't help it that he was a babe magnet. But, Bulma has always been his, and will always be his, no matter what.

    Switching to the monitors in the kitchen, Yamcha's jaw dropped. Bulma was sitting on the cupboard, with Vegeta dangerously close to her. He couldn't see what they were doing, but he could see the dreamy look on Bulma's face. With a growl, Yamcha watched as Vegeta took Bulma's hand, forcefully, and his muscles tensed when he saw the panicked look cross his girlfriend's face. He was ready to rush to her rescue but stopped as he noticed Vegeta release his grip, and gently treat what looked to be a burn on Bulma's hand. His scowl as the dreamy look returned to her face, and the scowl deepened when Vegeta seemed to slip a little closer then he needed to be. His eyes narrowed when the Saiyan finished, but wouldn't leave. He knew that this could be trouble, but a huge grin lightened up his face when Bulma heaved the first aid kit at Vegeta when he was leaving. Yamcha couldn't see if the kit struck the bugger, but he was hoping it did. However, a dark scowl returned when he saw the look on Bulma's face. She sat on the counter smiling, and he could tell, even through the blurry black and white monitor, that her eyes were distant, buried in a realm of fantasy. Picking up the phone, he decided to call Cyndi and cancel his date with her tonight. He didn't really want to, she was such a great girl, especially when it came to the bedroom, but he really didn't want to leave Bulma alone in the house with that bastard Saiyan. Besides, he shrugged, there is always tomorrow night.

* * * *

    Vegeta spun in the air, demolishing an imaginary enemy with a devastating spin kick. His body was drenched in sweat, and his own muscles were beginning to turn traitor, refusing to move when they were commanded to. Forcing his tired body over to the control panel, Vegeta could barely raise his hand to turn it off. Erecting a ki shield around himself, he hit the switch, and the air surrounding him immediately grew lighter. When he knew that the gravity had returned to normal, Vegeta slowly allowed the air inside of his ki shield to mix with the outside air, which slowly de-compressurized. He took pride in the [simple] fact that he really [did not] have to do this, like any normal human, (or normal Saiyan for that matter) would. His body and his lungs were strong enough to withstand such pressure, but he bet that Kakkorott wasn't smart enough to think of something like this.

    With a smirk, Vegeta dropped his shield and felt a familiar ki behind him. Turning, he saw Bulma's idiotic boyfriend standing at the door of the gravity machine, his arms crossed. Vegeta almost laughed in his face. Was that rat human actually trying to intimidate him? Vegeta scowled, two could play at that game. His icy gaze tore through Yamcha's facade easily, and the human began to sweat, but keep up with his demeanor. Vegeta quickly became irritated with Yamcha, and began to walk toward him. The Saiyan Prince could see that the antsy human wanted to say something, but he really didn't care what the rat had to say. He growled when Yamcha wouldn't move out of his way.

    "Vegeta, we have to talk." Yamcha said, trying like mad not to sound nervous. Vegeta almost laughed at him, but decided to give him audience. "Listen, we both know that you have a thing for Bulma. I'm just telling you that you better stay away from her. She's too innocent to understand that you would just be using her for her body. Besides, she's mine." Yamcha was able to stammer out. He cringed when he saw Vegeta's eyes grow cold, and cringed again when he felt the Saiyan's ki flare.

    Vegeta grabbed Yamcha's collar, and pulled him close to his face. "I am warning you once, and only once, maggot. And this is because I am in a good mood. You even presume to tell me what I am allowed to do again, and I will rip your entrails out and decorate my gravity machine with them." Vegeta smirked as he felt Yamcha begin to shake. He released the human's shirt and pushed him to the ground. Stepping over him Vegeta walked out of the gravity room, his pace steady and measured. He could feel Bulma's weak but unmistakable ki at the front porch. He glanced up at her and he knew that she was in earshot. Turning his head but still walking toward the house, Vegeta yelled over his shoulder, "Besides, maggot, the woman isn't as innocent, or as naive, as you think. If I can smell other women than her on you, then I'm sure that she can too."

    Vegeta smirked to himself [again] as he pushed past Bulma on his way into the house. He could see the rage in her eyes as she realized what Vegeta was implying. Staying in the kitchen, the Saiyan could only hope that the ensuing argument would find its way into the room.

* * * *

    "SO IT'S TRUE!!??!! ALL THOSE NIGHTS WAITING FOR YOU, ALONE? HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!" Yamcha cringed as Bulma screeched at him. Still thinking that he could weasel his way out of the coming argument, Yamcha opened his arms, as if attempting to embrace the rampaging woman in front of him.

    "Bu-but, baby, I..." Yamcha was cut off by a quick slap to the face.

    "Don't 'but baby' me! I will so kick your ass up and down this street!" Bulma huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Yamcha opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. "Oh, so the great warrior Yamcha has nothing to say? Well, that's a first! You can't even defend yourself! If that isn't an admission of guilt, I don't know what is!"  Bulma tore into him.

    The sun was dipping behind the treeline, and night was slowly taking over. The two were still standing on the porch, but with his enhanced hearing, Vegeta could hear every word. He snorted as Yamcha tried to come up with one excuse after another, but was shot down time and again by Bulma. The great prince Vegeta had to admit, that woman had a tongue on her that would make the uncivilized Radditz blush. If he was still alive, that is. Gulping down a pitcher of water, Vegeta went back to the sink to refill it. He was careful not to make enough noise to drown out the argument. He was beginning to enjoy this.

    "NO! I WILL NOT CALM DOWN, YOU...YOU...LOSER!" Bulma stammered out. She was beginning to run out of insults. She had even switched to several explicit words in several other languages. Not that Yamcha understood what she was saying. Bulma couldn't remember when she was ever this mad. Of course, she would get majorly frustrated with both Yamcha and Vegeta, but this was a whole new level of rage. But, it wasn't just directed at Yamcha, no, half of her rage was toward herself. She knew that she had been kidding herself about Yamcha's faithfulness. Vegeta was right. Bulma could smell other women on Yamcha, but she always passed it off as something else, like he was just dancing too close at his Raves. Bulma's eyes darkened as Yamcha took advantage of her pause for breath.

    "Well, maybe if you weren't so frigid, I wouldn't have to go and find someone [else] " Yamcha was again cut off by a swift punch to his gut. Of course it didn't hurt, Bulma wasn't strong enough to hurt him, he was just shocked that she would even attempt [it]. She was always so, so girly. Yamcha wasn't expecting an actual attack from her. He almost laughed as she grabbed her fist, grimacing in pain. Hitting him would be like hitting a stone wall. With an icy glare, Bulma made Yamcha choke on his laughter. He had really never seen Bulma this mad. He felt very lucky at the moment that she wasn't superhuman, like himself or Krillin, because he would be in big trouble if she was.

    "FRIGID!?! You think that I'm FRIGID!?! Just because I don't want to participate in your little orgy fest at your goddamned Raves!?! You are such a SLUT!" Bulma said as she turned to walk into the house. Yamcha just stood there, not knowing whether to follow or not. He heard objects crash against the wall, and glass break. Thinking that it would easier to just go and find Cyndi and let Bulma's rage wear out, Yamcha turned to leave. He stopped suddenly as he heard Vegeta's calm and condescending voice in the kitchen.

    With rage in his eyes, he turned back into the house, and stalked into the kitchen. After all, it was Vegeta's fault that Bulma found out. As he walked through the door, Yamcha ducked as a plate came flying at his head. It crashed into the wall behind him, shattering and marking the drywall. Standing up again, he saw the kitchen literally torn apart, the table overturned, chairs in pieces. The cupboard doors were flung open, and fine china was reduced to rubble. Bulma was in the center of the kitchen, with a look of absolute rage on her face. Yamcha's eyes went wide, Bulma almost looked feral. He glanced at Vegeta, who was leaning against the sink, a pitcher of water in his hand and a smirk on his face. He was obviously enjoying the woman's tirade.

    "FRIGID!?! FRIGID!?!" Bulma screamed. Yamcha began to realize that he should never have tried to use that defense. It just fueled the fire. Glaring at the Saiyan across the room, Yamcha was about to say something when Bulma ripped the pitcher of water from Vegeta's hand, hurling it at Yamcha. This surprised both men. Bulma just stood there, her chest heaving in anger. Vegeta smiled to himself, seeing her like this made his blood race, but he shook the thoughts from his mind. She was merely human, she wouldn't even be strong enough to handle him. If she was Saiyan, Vegeta believed that he would have attempted to claim her a long time ago.

    Now soaking wet from the pitcher of water, Yamcha's ego began to take over. He glared at Vegeta, his eyes burning with hate. The Saiyan Prince smirked at him, challenging him. Yamcha began to cross the room, his jaw set. In a flash, Bulma was between him and Vegeta, her arms outstretched.

    "Oh no you don't! This is between you and me! If you want Vegeta to beat on you, do it later!" Bulma could hear Vegeta chuckle behind her. Knowing that Yamcha was blaming the arrogant Saiyan for her finding out, the woman decided to play on his feelings. She casually turned and walked to Vegeta's side, exaggerating her walk, making it more fluid, and hopefully more sexy. She came to Vegeta's side, and wrapped an arm around his waist, all the while watching Yamcha's eyes flare with anger, his face flush. Glancing to Vegeta to make sure that he would play along, she saw a [mischievous] glint in his obsidian eyes.

    "So, you think I'm frigid, eh? Frigid this!" Bulma said as she pulled Vegeta toward her and kissed him passionately. A little shocked by the move, Vegeta froze, but quickly kissed her back, tasting her soft lips on his. Soon the kiss deepened, and Yamcha couldn't believe his eyes. Bulma pressed her beautiful body against that evil alien, and her face was becoming flush with the passion of the kiss. The two seemed to be so engrossed with each other that he thought that they had forgotten he existed.

    Well, he would make them remember. He began to power up, and energy was soon crackling around him. Bulma's eyes flashed open, and she reluctantly pulled away from Vegeta. 'Damn, that was amazing!' She thought to herself as she turned to face Yamcha. Keeping her body close to Vegeta's, she could feel his muscles tighten as she inadvertently rubbed against him. Blushing, she shook the thoughts from her head, and glared at Yamcha. His face was so contorted with rage that she hardly recognized him, and she knew that she would fear him right now if Vegeta wasn't at her side. Instead, she stood between the Saiyan and human [warrior], almost daring Yamcha to make a move against her.

    Sickened by the thought of Bulma with Vegeta, Yamcha powered up even more. Bulma could hear Vegeta chuckle. As much as she hated Yamcha right now, she didn't want him dead. Taking a step forward so that her body was away from Vegeta, Bulma thought that putting some distance between her and the Saiyan may calm down her rampaging boyfriend. Boyfriend? HA! Ex-boyfriend is more like it.

    "Look Yamcha. I want you to leave, now. You aren't welcome here anymore. I don't want you coming around here, and don't even ATTEMPT to phone me." Bulma said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She had one hip thrust out to the side, accentuating her feminine form.

    "What, the great Prince of All Saiyans needs a woman to protect him?" Yamcha sneered. Bulma caught her breath in her throat, Yamcha may as well be signing his own death sentence.

    "Moron." She hissed under her breath. Even without being able to sense ki, she knew that Vegeta was gathering the energy around him. Not knowing what to do, Bulma stepped back into him, pressing her body against his, hopefully distracting him enough for her to get Yamcha out of her house, and not zipped up in a bodybag, either. His body felt so warm and comfortable against hers, it felt so right. She felt his tight muscles relax as she leaned against him. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. It was so enticing. She could hear him laugh softly under his breath.

    "You fool. You really think she was protecting me from you? Maggot, she was trying to save you from committing suicide. You should really thank the woman." Vegeta said as he allowed his lips to brush Bulma's soft neck. She almost shivered with delight. Yamcha's rage dropped off suddenly as he realized what he was doing. He knew that he wouldn't last two minutes up against Vegeta. His eyes began burning with salty tears, but he wouldn't let either Bulma or that bastard Vegeta see him like that. Turning his back on them, Yamcha's ki flared.

    "Bulma, this isn't over." Yamcha said menacingly over his shoulder. With that he was gone.

    "Yes, it is." Bulma's rage soon ebbed as she became painfully aware of the gap she just crossed with Vegeta. Would he now expect her to give herself to him? She froze as Vegeta's hand gently took her shoulder, and turned her toward him. She just let him turn her, she didn't know what to do. Their bodies were just inches apart, and Bulma knew that if Vegeta wanted her, she couldn't stop him. [Unexpectedly], he put his finger underneath her chin and gently forced her to look into his eyes. For several seconds they stayed like that, searching each others eyes. Seeing the fear and uncertainty in her sky blue eyes, Vegeta knew that she didn't want him. With a huff, he pushed himself off of the counter and scowled. Bulma could only watch as he silently walked away from her, out of the kitchen, and out of the house.

    [In] a sigh of both relief and disappointment, Bulma slumped to the floor, allowing the night's events to catch up to her. She could feel tears well up in her eyes as she realized what she had lost. She and Yamcha had been together since the beginning, basically since Goku came into the picture. They had been through so much, but she knew that it was better this way. Yamcha would go on with his training, and his various other women. And Bulma? She would go on running Capsule Corp., and, and what? She couldn't determine what her future was going to be like. She always had Yamcha to fall back on, and now he was gone. Her thoughts flitted to Vegeta, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She almost laughed at the image in her mind of Vegeta settling down, becoming a family man. No, that would never happen. If anything ever did happen between them, he would probably soon get bored with her and move on. Bulma shook her head. The only man she had ever been with was Yamcha, and she didn't know if she could give herself to anyone so completely again, [especially] a certain Saiyan prince who would tire of her so quickly.

    Bulma tried to shake the thoughts from her head, but she just couldn't. Grabbing a pint of chocolate ice cream from the freezer, she searched the drawers for a spoon. Finding one she left the demolished kitchen behind and walked out the front door. She could see flashes out lightening in the distance, and the smell of the approaching rain hung in the air. Absently spooning through the soft chocolate, Bulma walked to her main garage, and using the voice verification system, unlocked the door.

    Stepping inside, she was surrounded by a comforting darkness. Leaving the lights off, she made her way to the back of the large garage, her boots echoing on the cold cement floor. Her nostrils were invaded by the familiar smell of oil and grease, and she breathed in deeply. The smell comforted her more than anything else. She felt so at home here, amongst the antique cars, trucks, and motorcycles that she collected. Setting the pint of ice cream on a work bench, Bulma grabbed a wrench and walked up to her favorite piece of antiquity, a 1977 Suzuki GS550E.

     The bike was a little heavy for her, so she replaced the frame with a lighter metal alloy, and all she really had to do was tighten the chain for it to be finished. The soft moonlight glinted off of the jet black gas tank and the beautiful chrome pipes. Bulma smiled, whenever she was having problems at work, or with the two men who seemed to take up most of her time, she would come out and work on this bike. Making sure the gauges were all working right and that all the fluids were topped off, Bulma pushed the electric start on the handle bar, and the engine roared to life. She smiled, the modifications she made on the muffler system made the meek 550 cc Suzuki engine sound like a purring 1100 cc Harley Davidson. Grabbing a full face helmet from a hook on the wall, Bulma shrugged into her soft leather jacket and slipped on her leather riding pants. Pushing the button that controls the garage door, Bulma walked slowly back to the purring motorcycle, eager to rush out into the wind. Straddling the seat, she opened up the throttle slightly, with the clutch in, just to hear the roar of the motor. When the door had opened completely, she let the clutch out, leaving a smoky trail of rubber on the smooth cement floor. With a whoop of glee, Bulma pulled out of her driveway and opened up the throttle, leaning into the wind. She almost let the engine redline before shifting each time, taking her frustration out on the open road.

    Finally reaching sixth gear, she let up a little, the road was winding, and a light rain was beginning to fall. Slowing quite a bit, Bulma let the rain soak her completely, and she could hear lightening and thunder crash above her. Knowing that she should head back, she rode on. The headlight on the bike cut through the rain soaked night, and Bulma rode on, letting the road take her where it wanted to. Her instincts began to kick in as she felt that she was being watched, but she knew that there were no other vehicles on the road. Was it Yamcha? Was he coming back to fight with her again, now that Vegeta wasn't at her side? She let the bike gain speed, and she began to take turns recklessly, swinging into the oncoming lane so she could turn without slowing.

    Her heart was beating hard in her chest. If it was Yamcha, she didn't want to be left alone with him. She really didn't know what he would do, and without Vegeta there to back her, what could she do? Gritting her teeth, she finally came to a stop, her rear tire skidding from behind. The bike swung around, and Bulma kept it running, not knowing whether to try to make it back to Capsule Corp., or to face Yamcha right here, right now. Pulling off her helmet, she remained on the bike, feeling slightly safer on the powerful machine.

    Sure enough, Yamcha landed in front of her, his hair plastered to his forehead by the rain. His eyes were puffy and red, and even through the rain, Bulma could smell the alcohol on him. Her eyes narrowed as he walked toward her.

    "Stay right there, Yamcha. When I said that it was over, I meant it. It's over, no if, ands, or buts." Bulma said, the falling rain was blurring her vision. In a flash, Yamcha was beside her. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off of the bike. He held her still in front of him, tears running down his face. The rancid smell of the alcohol on his breath made Bulma want to gag. Yamcha leaned into Bulma's face, attempting to kiss her. Bulma whipped her head back and forth, making it difficult. Yamcha roughly grabbed her face and held her still.

    "Yamcha, don't." Bulma said sternly. She had never seen him so drunk, and she was frightened of what he may do.

    "Don't tell me no. I still love you." He whispered as his mouth crushed hers. She tried to struggle, but he wouldn't release her. His hands began to roam, and he grunted when the protective leather jacket wouldn't allow him free range of her body. Tears began to well up in Bulma's eyes, was he really going to do this? She wanted to scream, but her mouth was still covered by Yamcha's. She knew that he wasn't powered up and that there was no ki shield surrounding him, so she did the only thing that she could. Finding his lip in his groping kiss, Bulma bit down hard, and was relieved when Yamcha released her suddenly. She spat out the blood that had flowed from hip lip into her mouth.

    "What did you do that for?" Yamcha stumbled back, slurring his words. He wiped the blood from his lip and glared at her.

    "Why? Because your slobbering drunk, and you were about to rape me, you goddamn asshole!" Bulma screamed at him through the pouring rain. Her hair was sticking to her face, and her blue eyes flashed in the headlights of the Suzuki. Yamcha's jaw dropped at what she had just said.

    "Rape you? No... I...I love you, Bulma." Yamcha said, taking a step toward her. She shrunk back, putting the bike between herself and the drunken man.

    "And I love you, Yamcha, but you and I both know that we have totally different lives to live, and you are not what I need." Bulma explained, still ready to run if she had to. Yamcha's shoulders sagged, obviously defeated.

    "Bulma...you...you have to believe me, I would never have..." Yamcha stopped as he looked at her face. Her eyes told him that it would be a long time before she ever truly trusted him again. With a sad nod, he looked at her, and then flew into the air, in a second he was gone. Relieved, Bulma slipped the helmet over her dripping wet hair and climbed back onto her bike. Riding home slowly, the water began to soak through her leather clothing, and she became chilled. Driving up to her front door, she turned off the bike and left the helmet hanging on the handle bar. She'd worry about the bike later.

    Walking into the house, she slipped out of the jacket and shook the water out of it. Hanging it on the back of a chair in the kitchen, she noticed that the cleaner bots the she had programmed to keep the house tidy also did a great job on repairing the kitchen. Wearing her leather pants and a tight white tank top, Bulma felt soaked to the bone. Putting on the kettle to make some hot tea, Bulma wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her chilled skin. She kept the lights off, she didn't want to disturb Vegeta if he was already asleep. She stood by the stove, shivering, and her skin was icy to the touch. Grabbing a tea towel she rubbed the water out of her hair and grabbed the kettle off of the stove. Pouring the hot water into the pot, Bulma let the tea brew for a minute or two before finally pouring it into her own cup. The hot liquid warmed her slightly, and she wrapped her hands around the cup to warm them. Examining the bandaging on her hand that Vegeta had applied earlier that week, she smiled.

    At that moment she heard a slight scuffling noise and looked up. She could see Vegeta's muscular form in the doorway, and she half smiled at him. She really didn't know if he could see it or not. Looking back down at her cup, she heard him speak softly.

    "Your teeth must be razor sharp." Vegeta remarked. Confused, Bulma stared at him through the darkness, and her eyes widened as she realized what he was talking about.

    "You...you were there the whole time?" Bulma managed to stammer out. Silence was her answer.

    "So...why didn't you step in right at the start?" Her voice gained in volume. What was he going to do, just watch as Yamcha raped her!?!

    "I knew that you were able to handle the maggot." Was the reply. Bulma was shocked, did the Prince of all Saiyans just give her a compliment? And why did he follow her? Was he actually concerned about her? She began to realize that out of all of the men in her life, from her own father, to Yamcha, to even Gouku, Vegeta was the only one who treated her like an independent person. A person who could take care of herself.

    Still shivering, she stood up, pushing her chair back. Nervously she walked toward Vegeta, not knowing what his reaction would be. When she finally reached him, all she could do was wrap her arms around him. She was relieved when he finally returned the embrace. She could smell the rain on him, and she knew it was true. He went out into the storm for her. She leaned back in his embrace and looked into his eyes. She knew that there was a chance the this arrogant man may bore of her sometime, but right now, she was willing to take that chance. Pressing her shivering body against his, she kissed him deeply, and was rewarded when the same passionate kiss was returned. He pushed her away from him, and she whimpered slightly, not wanting the kiss to end. He only smirked at her, his eyes dancing mischievously. Looking her up and down he finally scoop her up in his arms and began walking to the stairs. Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck, and she was still shivering.

    "You are soaked. I am going to get you out of those wet clothes." Vegeta stated gruffly.

    Bulma could only smile as he began his steady climb up the stairs.

Well?  What did you think of this fic?  Write a review for it by emailing me at the address below.

© October 15th 2001, West Capital City : A Vegeta Lover's Asylum

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