WARNING: contains mild cursing and violence.

Bulma sighed. She'd broken up with Yamcha, the Nameksei-jins had gotten a new planet, and Bulma was pretty much alone. Well, almost. Vegeta stayed, but he kept to himself, except when he was ordering her to cook for him. That was fun. She loved to tick him off by refusing, burning the food, or making something really weird. She was still bored and lonely.

She rummaged through her clothes, thinking of different ways to torment her reluctant houseguest. She found a short black mini-skirt and a tight shirt with puffy sleeves that came together at the wrists. Bulma grinned and donned the odd outfit, mischief dancing in her eyes. She then cooked broccoli and cheese au gratin and ordered out for unique (and really spicy) sushi. Vegeta was already headed for the kitchen; the smell of edible substance had caught his attention. Next to the intense platter of sushi (with the hot mustard), she placed a pitcher of tequila.

Grinning wider, Bulma watched as Vegeta downed a few dozen bowls of rice and began to eye the sushi. He pointed and asked, "That edible?" At Bulma's nod, Vegeta scarfed down the entire platter, mustard sauce and all. Nothing happened. Bulma frowned. He hadn't even eyed the alcohol filled pitcher and was moving onto more rice.

Vegeta watched the earth native out of the corner of his eye. She was frowning at him again; he hated it when she did that. It meant only one of two things. A) He had broken out of her social codes and wasn’t going to be fed. Or B) She had been planning something and it didn't work out well. He was trying to figure out which it was when she huffed and took a tiny glass and poured from a pitcher next to him. She sloshed the liquid about, kicked it back, and slammed the glass onto the table.

Vegeta stopped shoving food into his mouth and looked at her. "Small glass, weakling." He picked up the pitcher and drained half of it. Bulma burst out laughing. Choice B, then. The weak Earth woman underestimated me, though. Except, why are they're two of them now. That damn Nameksei-jin taught he how to split herself. Shimata! He shot two ki blasts at both split Bulma's.

She squealed as the balls of energy whizzed past her head, grazing her hair on both sides. "What the hell did you do that for?" she shouted. Vegeta blinked and cringed. Damn drink messed up my vision. What the hell did she give me? He demanded that she tell him what was happening to him. Bulma giggled. "It's called tequila. It's alcohol and it messes you up, but gives you a sense of... uh... pleasure before the negative side effects kick in. By the amount you imbibed, I'd say you wouldn't get much enjoyment, just negative," she said happily. Vegeta growled at her.

"You've poisoned me!!" Bulma giggled and shook her head. "I never told you to drink half a beer pitcher of tequila." Vegeta growled again, but collapsed in his seat. "It will wear off, right?" he said, sounding innocent. Bulma felt like hugging him, but he wouldn’t like that. "Yes, it will wear off, probably by the morning. You'll have a headache though." Vegeta mumbled something that sounded like 'stupid earth custom' and walked, or stumbled, to the living room. Bulma giggled again.

She walked into the room, turned the lights down low, and turned on the radio. The sound system was hooked up to a neon, and strobe lights were placed strategically around the room. She had it set up that way for Yamcha, when he got drunk it kept him entertained while she did other things. "Wow!" exclaimed Vegeta, leaning back and staring all the lights and bobbing his head to the music. Bulma sighed; she missed Yamcha; and she missed the Nameksei-jins. She left him there and went up to her room, leaving Vegeta to bob to the pretty lights.

~*~

Vegeta woke up with a headache. Next to him he saw six white pills and a glass of water. Bulma. "Trying to poison me again, Woman!" he shouted. Blinding pain sliced throughout his skull and he winced. Very, very, very, bad thing to do. "No, it will help with the headache," she said softly, appearing in the doorway. She was still in a bathrobe, and it parted slightly to reveal smooth, long legs and the swell of her breasts. For a moment his eyes lingered on her form, but shot away and he swallowed the small white pills she had once called aspirin.

"Well, what do you want?" he demanded, as she stood there, staring at him. "To know," she said, simply. He glanced back at her, once again noticing her curvatious form and her soft blue hair. He always wondered what her hair felt like, any sensation seeker would. He would catch whiffs of rose and perfume and the hair looked silky and thick.

"What the hell do you want to know!" he growled, getting tired of this game or perhaps the temptation it offered. She shook her head and moved toward him. "You never let anyone close. Is it because you don't know how?" she asked in a quiet voice. He glared at her, a mixture of gleeful violence and confusion congealed in the depths of his pitch black eyes. She shook her head. "Nevermind. I'm just bored and I wonder about you sometimes. Everyone needs someone to love them and you don't look like you have anyone.

She turned and left the room, wondering what had possessed her to say those things to that man. Not long before he had posed a major threat to everyone she cared about, and now he just seemed to be a lonely passerby. All men were passersby, and so was she. All just loners, looking for attachment, and only holding for a small time. She didn't want to be a loner. Hell, all she wanted was a family, or even just a child.

Vegeta watched as she departed the room. The motion was a flurry of swaying hips and graceful limbs. Someone to love? I don't need anyone. He shook his head to clear it of images of blue mixed with pale skin. The sun was high in the sky and he needed to train. He needed to beat Kakarott. He couldn't be second best.

~*~

Bulma dried her hair. She had been in a horrible mood this morning; her optimism had failed her. She relied on her optimism, without it she was like a retired football player, never reaching her former glory. She missed tramping about with Chibi-Goku looking for dragonballs. That was just too much fun. She had been with Yamcha then, he was fun, but he left her. Last night had only served to remind her, and that is why her eternal optimism failed. That and she had an odd feeling that she was missing something, like her very soul was calling out to something she could never posses. Then there was the tequila, big factor.

Bulma cursed. She was getting depressed again. Time for a ride in the speeder. She rubbed her hands together and pulled out some goggles. She ran down the stairs, jumped into her hovercar, adjusted the goggles, put up the top, and started up the engine. Vrrrroommmmm! She sped off into the sky, doing loops around Vegeta's gravity room before taking off in a different direction. After making a few loops around Satan city, she landed back at Capsule Corporation.

She quickly changed into a business suit and rushed off to the corporate offices in the building. She worked for the rest of the day, tinkering with this or that. She made a new robot for Vegeta to play with. Maybe this time he won't break it so quick. She headed back to her mansion near the side of the building and walked in, battlebot in tow. She programmed another robot to do the cooking, if she wasn't annoying Vegeta, it wasn't worth it. While waiting, she bathed and dressed in comfortable jeans and a worn, Capsule Corp. T-shirt.

"Vegeta!!" called Bulma after the food had finished being made. He appeared in seconds, empty Saiyan stomach and all. They ate quickly, some more so than others, and in silence. When Vegeta finished, drinking from a glass of water that he himself got, Bulma smiled happily. She fetched the bot and brought it to him. "It's a new robot for you. I built it with a processor to learn moves and block them. Enjoy." Vegeta snorted. "To make up for the tequila incident?" Bulma laughed. "Ah, well, I do have to keep you on your toes, don't I? Or else you'd get soft, Saiyan, and you wouldn't want that."

Vegeta snorted again. Bulma was just a ditzy earth woman who cooked for him. She would have no clue how to keep him on his toes, and damnit he wasn't getting soft. Stupid woman. "Vegeta..." she said, another conniving look entering her eyes. "What now, woman?" Bulma batted her eyelashes innocently. "I was wondering if you'd watch a movie with me. I'm told it's really scary, and I don't want to watch it alone... please..." she pleaded. Vegeta frowned, why would he want to watch some stupid move with some stupid woman about stupid people getting scared.

"No," he snapped. But she was looking at him with pleading blue eyes. "I'll make popcorn." Vegeta snorted, "It gets stuck in the teeth." Bulma put on a thoughtful expression. "I'll get a big tub a ice cream for you." "It makes you fat." Bulma laughed, looking sideways at him. Vegeta blushed, so what if he was worried about his weight. "How about I don't play any mean tricks on you for a whole week!"

Vegeta started to say no, but stopped. "One week?" he asked glaring at Bulma. She held up her hands in defeat. "Ok, ok.... Two." Vegeta frowned and Bulma took that for a yes. "Aww, thanks alot Vegeta! Come on." She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the living room. She hooked the various lights back up to the DVD surround sound and put the movie in.

Vegeta frowned. It was just like he suspected. A stupid movie with stupid people who weren't smart enough not to go through that door! A crash sounded behind the main actress and the light for that corner flashed. Vegeta flinched and Bulma screeched, like only she could do, and hugged his arm. Damn, stupid, woman.... She hadn't let go of his arm. Vegeta thought about removing her from him, but decided against it because a very feminine part of her body was pressed against him.

The movie ended, the list of actors/actresses came on. Bulma sighed and turned it off, turned the lights back on, and turned to Vegeta. "You can go now. Thanks for staying to watch it with me, you were all tense the whole time, like you wanted to leave, but you didn't. So, thanks." Vegeta blinked and scowled at her. I wasn't tense... and it wasn't scary!

Bulma chuckled to herself as she watched Vegeta's retreating form. He'd been scared, not that she could blame him, and it was so cute. She wondered what Chibi-Vegeta had been like. She went upstairs to her room, walked in, and began changing into her nightgown. Uh oh. It's just like in the move when the main actress was in her room dressing and the killer burst in on her. *Gulp* After she slipped the garment over her head, she checked under her bed and shut the doors to her closet.

Maybe it was a bad idea to watch that movie. Wait, I'm Bulma Briefs; I don't get scared at some movie! But she was scared. Clicking off she bedroom light, she settled in for a night of fitful sleep.

~*~

Vegeta cursed. He could hear that damn woman tossing and turning and mumbling in her sleep. What was her problem? Was it that scary movie; was she that weak? Vegeta swore that was his name she just mumbled. Curious, and hoping to get her to quit her racket, and walked over to her door and slipped in.

The sight that greeted him was of Bulma lying, sweaty, in twisted up sheets. "Vegeta don't!" she mumbled. Vegeta scowled, he wasn't doing anything. "GOKU!" Bulma shot straight in the bed, still half asleep, her blue eyes wide with terror. She was dreaming of him killing that half-breed mongrel. Whereas Vegeta would have smirked at the thought, now he could only see Bulma's terrified face.

He walked over and enveloped Bulma in his strong arms and whispered, "I haven't killed that low-born idiot, Kakarott, yet." Bulma yawned, leaned into him, and looked around groggily. "Wha?" she mumbled. Finally coming to reality, she realized that the monster in her dreams had his arms around her and had just whispered something comforting; she hadn't quite caught it, though.

"Vegeta," she asked, tensing. Vegeta stared down at the creature before him. She looked back at him with her royal blue eyes and aquamarine hair framing her face. She smiled, an upward twist of full pouty lips. "Why are..." she started but he interrupted her. "To get you to quit all the racket you were making!" he snapped, but he hadn't move his arms. She grinned at him, "You like me!"

"I'm the man of your dreams," he said sarcastically. Bulma shuddered, no longer smiling. "That was your fault with all those damn comments about killing Goku." Vegeta scowled. She was worried about Kakarott, the tailless wonder. For a reason he couldn't explain, similar to the reason he put his arms around her, the thought of her worrying about another man made him angry. Bulma frowned, he seemed really mad at her.

Vegeta quit scowling. She was staring at him in confusion, sympathy shining in her eyes. He lowered his head and crushed his lips to hers, and Bulma's eyes widened at first, but then she closed them and kissed back. It was long, deep kiss that Vegeta broke off, flinging Bulma away from him, gentle enough not to hurt her with his Saiyan strength. He turned around and strode out of the room. Bulma stared at the door he just closed in a daze.

Wow. Vegeta’s a really nice kisser. He likes me; he’s just shy. Bulma frowned and laid back down, pulling the covers over herself. What am I thinking? This is Vegeta we’re talking about… but he is cute. Nice butt. And I do enjoy messing with him. I might actually like him. Weird. With that thought lingering in her head, Bulma fell asleep.

~*~

Vegeta couldn’t sleep. He gave up after 30minutes (he usually can fall asleep at will) and went out to his gravity machine to train until morning. He was also thinking of insults for Bulma. The most hurtful ones are the ones that have a gram of truth to them, and he was trying to find a flaw he could remark on. He could call her idiotic, but she was genius. He could call her hideous, but she was gorgeous. He could call her trampy, she’d hate that, but she’d probably mention last night. He could call her weak, but he didn’t think she’d be too upset. So, he continued to think of what else to call her.

After training and thinking for a while, and not coming up with anything, he went inside for food. The smell of animal flesh grilling tickled his nostrils and he followed the scent to the kitchen, where he found the Bulma, cooking bacon in large amounts. “Ohaiyo gozaimasu, Vegeta. How are you this morning?” Vegeta growled in return, preferring instead to sit and say nothing. Bulma laughed at him and Vegeta scowled deeper.

Vegeta felt awkward and that damn woman didn’t have the sense to return it. Why should I feel awkward? I am prince of the Saiyans, the most powerful being in the universe. Damn weakling earth woman…. Bulma laid the bacon, piled high on a plate, in front of Vegeta, along with eggs, toast, and grits. Ditzy! She hates it when people call her ditzy. Maybe I’m putting more thought than necessary into this. “Enjoy,” she said, finishing by putting a tall glass of orange juice next to him.

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, she thought. I probably have no clue what I’m getting into. Oh, well, for better or for worse… Vegeta stopped shoving food his mouth for a second to look at Bulma, who was giving him the oddest of looks. “What woman?” Bulma frowned at him. Creep “Nothing. Nothing at all.” Bulma sat down and began to eat. Vegeta finished before her, mumbled something about weak, human stomachs, and went back out to his gravity machine.

He trained for a long time, lamenting his current situation. At will, he could conjure a picture of half-naked, sweaty Bulma staring up at him with puffy, newly kissed lips. What the hell is wrong with me? The new battlebot that Bulma made zapped his rear. Shimata! That damn woman is messing with my mind, interfering with my training. He set his sights on the offending bot and began tracking it, shooting ki blasts at it. Just as he was about to destroy it, the door opened. Bulma stood silhouetted in the doorway, looking at him with concern.

It was dinnertime, the Saiyan skipped lunch (so had she) and he didn’t seem to notice. “What the hell do you want, baka?!” he demanded. “You missed lunch and dinner is waiting.” Vegeta growled at her, “So? I’m not hungry.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his stomach rumbled in protest. “Right,” Bulma smiled and began to go toward him. Vegeta’s eyes widened and he leap at her, tackling her to the ground outside the machine. The gravity had been on and up at 50. He leaned on his elbows and looked down at her. “Bakayaro, you nearly got yourself killed!”

Bulma blinked up at him and smiled. He had seemed so concerned and was now mad at her for putting herself in danger. “Couldn’t wait to get me into this position, could you?” Vegeta growled in response, rolled off her, and rose to his feat, taking her with him. “You should be more careful,” he snapped. But Bulma wasn’t done teasing him. “I didn’t know you cared.” Vegeta growled again in response and started toward the kitchen to get dinner. Bulma followed. “If I were more careful, how else would you get me in that position?” she yelled after him. He quickened his pace. “A little bit too kinky for you, ne?” Vegeta growled and slammed the door after him. Bulma burst out laughing.

She quit teasing him as they ate; Vegeta glared at her the entire time. “Damn ditzy bitch,” he mumbled as she finished putting the plates in the dishwasher after dinner. She whirled around to glower at him. He saw emotions flicker across her expressive face. First, anger, I am not ditzy! Then, thoughtfulness, Ditzy is not his usual, and if that is all he could come up with…. Finally, mischief, two can play at this game. “Me, ditzy?! You’re the one who drank half a bottle of tequila.” Vegeta stood up and pointed and accusing index finger at her. “That’s because you tricked me.” Bulma gasped in mach outrage, but stopped. “You were ditzy enough to fall for it.”

His eyes narrowed. “I am not ditzy!” he proclaimed in an authoritative voice. “Ok, ok. Blonde, then.” Vegeta blinked and looked up as though trying to see his hair’s color. “My hair is not blonde!” Bulma giggled. “It will be when you turn SSJ.” Vegeta’s eyes widened. She said ‘when’ as thought she believed with out doubt he would turn SSJ, which he would, but she believed in him. “Yes, I’ll turn Super Saiyan. Then I’ll kill off that idiot Kakarott and his half-breed brat.” Bulma shook her head at him. “Nope. You may want to, but you won’t/ you like Goku too much, even though he gets on your nerves.” Vegeta scowled at her. “I do not like Kakarott!” Bulma nodded, “Sure.”

“I do not like Kakarott!!” he yelled, the vein in his forehead beginning to pop out. Bulma giggled again. Vegeta stiffened and tilted his chin up very much like the proud prince he was and strode from the room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow, Vegeta!” she called after him. His reply was in the form of a slammed door. Bulma retreated to her room, smiling.

~*~

Bulma slumped lower in her office chair. It’s been a week since that day in the kitchen. She didn’t see him at breakfast, or any time since; he left. Damn him for worrying me like this! She had slept little over the week and what sleep she did get was filled with nightmares of either him lonely, hurt, or mad at her. Also, she had nightmares of Chibi-Vegeta being pushed around by that horrible lizard-like Frieza. She had no clue where they came from, only that they were true. She just knew it.

Bulma picked up her briefcase and trudged wearily home. The house felt empty, all sings of life deserted the professionally decorated room. She was really alone, now. The only sounds were hers as she ate, washed, and prepared for bed. She sank into her covers, thinking of Vegeta as she drifted off to sleep.

Outside her window, Vegeta watched, like he had every night for the past week. At first, it was to assure himself that her ditzy nature hadn’t gotten her in trouble. He couldn’t lie to himself, though. Damnit all, they were bonded, he knew, because she had dreams of his past. He opened her unlocked balcony window and walked into the room, his eyes caressing her sleeping form. A wicked idea came to him as he walked toward her.

Bulma woke to find Vegeta leaning on his elbows over her. “This is how else I get you into this position, woman.” She grinned, but the smile soon faded and she buried her head into his chest, sobbing and cursing. Vegeta held her for awhile, confused. “If you ever,” she said between hiccups, “do anything like that again, I will hunt you down, beat you, and then starve you to death!” Vegeta felt a half smile tug at his lips; she had missed him. “Woman, I seriously doubt that.” Bulma’s reply was a muffled giggle. He bent his head to nuzzle and nib her neck, and, in reply to her small gasp, said, “Too kinky for you, ne?”

His lips moved lower from her neck, to her colorbone, and then to her breasts. He focused on one, then the other, sucking, nibbling, and caressing. Bulma arched her back and moaned, giving him better access to the object of his attention. Vegeta growled low in his throat, that damn nightgown was in the way, along with the sheets and his clothes. He flung the blanket aside, and she shivered as the cool air brushed her heated flesh. He then stripped off his fighting gi and covered her with his hard, muscled body. The only obstacle left was her nightie. H pushed the straps off her shoulders exposing her firm, creamy breasts to his view. He glanced appreciatively at them before lowering his mouth to them once more.

“V-Vegeta!” she whispered in a shaky, yet husky voice. Vegeta tugged the nightgown lower, till it bunched around her waist. Of their own accord, her hands ran down his muscled back, inflaming him further. His lips moved to hers; his tongue darted out boldly to tease and play with hers. His hands traveled over the planes of her stomach, then lower, pushing her nightgown over her thighs and low enough for her to kick it away. She savored the feel of him, skin to skin. He shifter to kneel between her legs. The last piece of clothing was shed, the panties, stripped away in one yank to fall on the floor next to his gi.

His hands found her wrists and one pinned them over her head, the other at her hip, holding her as he pressed his thick length to her hot entrance. He thrust into her; Bulma cried out his name. At first, his thrusts were deep and slow, but became faster, the world becoming a frenzy of lips, hands, pounding need. His mouth had once again found her neck and he bit down and he drove into her. She was lost between sensations of pain, pleasure, and desire so intense that, for the moment, there was only him. The sensations built in both of them, rushing to a acute climax, accompanied by aftershocks of pleasure.

When the tempest had past, the two laid together, curled up and content. Bulma glance up at his strong face and found a smug smile on it. “I think I’m in love with you Saiyan,” she said softly. The smirk widened. “Woman, I own you. It’s best you get that into your head now.” Bulma giggled, content with the response, snuggled closer to his warmth and fell asleep.

~*~

She understood that the pride that had sustained him through the years hell he had faced wouldn’t allow him to say ‘I love you.’ She understood that he wouldn’t always be there, but always there when she needed him. He was like Goku in that way, always off doing something. It was the reason Chi-chi was so overprotective of Gohan; he kept her from being lonely when his dad was away. And she was going to get a Gohan of her own… in about five minutes to an hour. Damn that baka. I need him, and he’s not here! She felt like she was being torn from the inside out; she was shaking, sweating, and probably crying, she wasn’t sure.

“Shimata,” said one doctor. The baby was going to be a healthy boy, but the mother didn’t look too good. Her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to be staring off into space. “Where the hell is the fathe-,” he began but was interrupted by the double doors opening and a spiky haired man entering. “I,” he said imperiously, “am the father.” He then ignored the white clad doctor to focus on his mate. She was pale, way too pale, and her eyes were not focused.

“One more push, Ms. Briefs,” said a nurse who was dabbing her brow. Vegeta moved over to her side and clasped her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. She let out a scream and gave her last bit of energy into the process. After that, her eyes began to roll back. Vegeta leaned down, close to her ear, and furiously whispered, “Shimata, weakling, I own you and you will not leave me!” Bulma began blinking, her eyes trying to focus. “V-v-vegeta,” she said in a low, tired voice. Her eyes remained clouded. “Bulmaaa” he moaned, softly. “I love you.” She tried again to focus and did, on Vegeta’s face. “Saiyan, I own you. You better get that in your head now.” Vegeta’s lips tugged upward.

They were interrupted by a wail. The nurse that had been dabbing Bulma’s forehead handed her the tiny infant. “Trunks, babe, I own you, too. It’d be good to remember that.” Vegeta stared down at the baby. His son. His heir. His. He reached out a finger to pet the soft, dewy head. The baby cooed in response. “I think he likes you, Vegeta,” gushed Bulma. Vegeta glanced sideways at her, “I think you’re on a power trip. Owning two Saiyans, preposterous!” Bulma laughed. She finally had her family.