Dangerous Bond

Chapter 5 : He cares about me

Vegeta woke late the next morning, stretching toward the ceiling. The bed he was in with v. v. warm. He looked down at the woman beside him and saw immediately that something was wrong. She was covered in sweat, her lips swollen and chapped. He reached out and touched her forehead with one hand, then pulled it away.

There was no way she was that hot! The damn onna was burning alive! The Saiya-jin warrior prince leapt to his feet, pulling the thick covers from Bulma's body and leaving, only to return seconds later with cold water and a flannel. Soaking the square of cloth in the water he folded it and placed it on her sweat slicked forehead.

"Damn you, woman! How in blue Hell are you this fuckin' hot?! You should be dead by this temperature." Even if Bulma were Saiya-jin she'd be pushing it with her current fever; Vegeta couldn't believe her endurance.

Four agonizing hours later Vegeta himself was worn out, but Bulma was finally at a normal temperature. The prince glared at her as she slept peacefully, her chest rising and falling healthily and rythmatically, lips soft and perfect as always. He let his arms fall to his sides, exhaustion taking over his body. Slowly Vegeta lowered himself down onto the bed beside Bulma and fell into sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Bulma woke around about 19:30. She sighed and stretched her arms toward the ceiling in exactly the way Vegeta had done seven hours previously, then looked down at the space where her bedmate had laid. To her surprise he was still there, sprawled over the thin sheet that covered her body. He was splat on his face, breathing noisily with his legs from the knee down dangling to the floor.

Bulma reached out to him and brushed the Saiya-jin's cheek with a finger. His eyelids fluttered slightly, but Vegeta was miles out.

'He stayed with me? All night and all day? Was I really in that bad a condition?' She looked about, eyes catching on the jug of water and the flannel, a bottle of medicine and a spoon. Bulma stared, 'Did he spoon feed me medicine? Ah, well. I'll ask him later. Until then...'

Careful not to wake Vegeta, Bulma slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding across the soft carpet and out the door. Her back and stomach still ached, but that was no surprise.

'I can't believe he really hit me like that...' Bulma thought about Yamcha as she turned on the oven, stomach rumbling. A smile teased the corner of her mouth, 'I guess I could actually try to cook today, since Vegeta's not been that bad. In fact, he's been good, brilliant even.'

An hour later Bulma was singing quietly to herself as she looked over her attempted cooking. Hey, it wasn't half as bad as normal. She was just about to serve up when a very worn looking Vegeta came in, yawning and stretching. When he saw her a slight flicker of concern flashed across his face, but not for long.

"Hey, Geta. Hungry?"

"What're you doing up?" He demanded, "You're supposed to be r..."

She waved a spoon at him. "I feel fine, no need to worry yourself to death."

He snorted, "Why would I worry about you?"

Bulma smiled evilly, "Because, you just spent an entire day taking care of me rather than training. You wouldn't want it to be for nothing, would you?"

Vegeta decided to ignore her comment, but couldn't help but wonder how her temperature was faring.

Seeming to read his mind the blue haired onna smiled at him. "Don't worry Veggie. I'm not hot, not cold, not bleeding internally, got it?"

The prince's face was serious. "This isn't a laughing matter, you realize. You could've quite easily died." He stopped then continued on, a little softer, "A temperature like that could kill an average non-elite Saiya- jin."

Bulma blinked. 'It was that bad?'

Coming from Vegeta that was actually a serious compliment. He thought so highly of his people... Did he think highly of her too for surviving such a vicious infection?

Vegeta appeared at her side. "What's that you're making?" He asked.

"Food." She replied, "I guess you sorta earned it, you know? An' anyway, I was hungry too."

He didn't challenge that and soon the two of them were seated at the table with their own portions of food, Vegeta's a lot more than hers. The two of them ate in silence, but neither felt the need for words, not even Bulma. She was just marveling in the amount her Saiya-jin counterpart could devour. Even after years knowing Son Goku she hadn't quite gotten used to their amazing eating capacity.

Actually, she was quite hungry herself and ate nearly twice her normal amount. Sitting back in her seat Bulma burped quite loudly.

"Sorry." She apologized, covering her mouth and smiling at Vegeta, currently staring at her and the empty plate before her with a look of disbelief on his face. He looked hilarious, spaghetti half in half out of his mouth in typical Saiya-jin fashion.

"Since when did you eat that much?" He swallowed noisily and washed the last of his meal down with a glass of water.

"Hey, I'm hungry. Is there a law against wanting to eat?"

"If there was, I'd most certainly be in jail." Vegeta replied as he stood. "Well, ur, thank you... For the food."

With that he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway toward the door to the GR. As Bulma watched him go she felt yet another smile cross her face as she began to see Vegeta in a totally different light. Not as a homicidal killer, but not as a happy-go-lucky Goku-like guy either. Vegeta was Vegeta and she thought she was beginning to understand exactly who Vegeta was...

Under the high intensity gravity simulation in the GR Vegeta trained like blue Hell. Blue and gold ki blasts tore through the red lit air as the Saiya-jin pushed himself to the limits. A whole day! Now, he wasn't going to say it wasn't worth it, because it was. Bulma was the only person ever to see even part of his other side and he was beginning to actually like her. He wondered what having a friend would be like...

But THAT DIDN'T MATTER!! He had an entire day to catch up with! Hurling himself into exercise after exercise Vegeta trained far into the night, corded muscles still straining at 4:00 in the morning. A whole... day...

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