AN: A very special thanks to manga and The Eternity Dragon for helping me with this chapter! I really appreciate the time you guys took in your advice and comments! Thank you so much!

Possession

Chapter 20 – A Need of Sleep III

Bulma rose early the next morning to an empty bed. Shivering slightly at the realization she was alone, she took in a breath before heading for the shower. A hot shower would do a lot of good. She really needed to clear her mind. The day before seemed so terribly long. So many things went wrong, and yet, somehow she knew it was right. It was like some twisted reliance on fate. She hoped, and she hoped with all she had, she wasn't making some big mistake.

She broke the engagement off with Yamcha. It was obvious they'd end up together in their childhood. It had to be even more obvious they'd one day grow apart. They were so different.

Different.

There was a difference when she broke the engagement off than when she had first broken up with him. Why was it so different? He understood. Yes, that had to be it. There was a certain understanding dancing in his eyes. It hurt, but he understood. He won't be asking for her again.

It was painful, but it didn't leave her lonely, as it did previously. Lost, yes, but lonely, no. She was lost, once again, but this time she didn't lie in her bed wondering if she'd be alone the rest of her life. No, she sought out company. Surprisingly enough, it was the company of the Saiyan guest who had resided under her roof these past months…or year? Had it been that long?

She didn't even seek out his comfort, for she knew he could offer none. She just wanted his company, and though he was reluctant at first, he gave into it, actually showing the slightest curiosity. He seemed different. When was it he changed? She never even thought about it before, but he was so different around her now. Or maybe he wasn't, perhaps she was the one who was different. Well, of coarse she'd changed, by a long shot – but what about him? Did he change as well?

Yamcha seemed to think so. He hardly even spoke with the Saiyan Prince, and yet he seemed to notice that there was something different about him. He even went as far as to think there was something between her and Vegeta.

Was there?

That was impossible. She, for one, could never fall in love with such a sadistic, arrogant alien. She wanted affection, and that something he could never give her. Even if he could, she'd never be able to return it to him. There was just no way she could fall for him. It was impossible.

But then again, it wasn't love that he was seeking…

It had been a month since Bulma broke off the engagement with Yamcha, and she found it best to keep herself busy in her lab. Not that she was hiding from some sort of painful break up, for the break up was such a relief to her. It was for the best. Rather, she was avoiding the questions from her mother, and Chi Chi, who seemed to be very curious at this point about the whole breakup and whether Vegeta had something to do with it. Bulma wasn't ready to answer such questions – she wasn't even sure what the answers were!

So she found a project to work on, and got so caught up with it that she didn't even notice when everybody suddenly stopped harassing her. She was where she should be – with her science.

Bulma bit her bottom lip, concentrating hard on the prints before her. Her eyes squinted, trying their best to focus, but with no success. Bulma's head was spinning, and her eyes were getting so heavy. But she was so close! If she could just stay awake just a bit longer, she'd have it!

Bulma slammed down her pencil, growling in protest against her need for sleep. She stormed over to her coffee pot that was now empty. She opened a cupboard, ready to make another pot of the caffeine she so desperately needed. When she found her supply to be empty, she let out a long, frustrated sigh. The whole world was against her. That had to be it.

As determined as ever, Bulma made her way to the house, sighing with relief in the pleasant weather. Lately the weather had been so confusing. One day it was beautiful, the next it felt like a cold day in December.

It was nice this night, but still a bit chilly, so Bulma pulled her lab coat shut to keep out any unwanted cold air. She took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, letting it fill her lungs and clean out her mind. Yes, it certainly was nice to have such weather. Momentarily, she glanced up at the sky. She was granted with only blackness, however. There wasn't a star in sight.

Very much disappointed in this realization, she did a slow circle, desperately trying to find a single star. None were there.

Being completely exhausted, Bulma found herself ready to just give up on the entire night. She felt so weighed down, and completely without energy. She ungracefully sat on the ground, pulling out the headband that had been keeping her hair out of her eyes throughout her work.

"I give up," she sighed, closing her eyes for just a brief moment.

"Human," she heard a voice behind her that could belong only to one person, "you're going to get sick out here like that."

Her mind began to think of a reply, but she decided she didn't have to reply to every comment he made at her. Besides, she deserved to just give up for once, and that's what she was trying to do.

"What are you giving up on?"

Bulma's eyes fluttered open. Her crystal eyes were greeted with a dark figure standing over her. She let out a weary sigh before replying. "There are no stars out tonight."

"Oh?" Vegeta questioned, sitting down next to her.

Bulma sat up, propping herself on her elbows. Half-lidded eyes attempted to stay open for the sake of hearing what he had to say. "Care to prove me wrong?"

"They're still there," he pointed out, gazing up at the sky. "Just because you don't see them, doesn't mean they're not."

"When I said 'they're not out,' you know perfectly well what I was referring to!" Bulma shot back at him, not intending to raise her voice as much as she did.

Vegeta graced her with a smirk before pointing up above her.

Bulma looked up to see the sky had cleared in a small spot and a dim star was attempting to shine in the night sky. "Not a very bright star, but I guess it'll do," Bulma commented, her eyes not leaving the black sky.

"Not very bright, and yet it's the only one visible," Vegeta commented.

Bulma nodded in agreement at what seemed to be an attempt at irony, keeping her eyes focused on that one seemingly insignificant star.

"It's not as powerful as the others, yet it tries so hard," Vegeta whispered, "It's so weak, and yet it's determined. It's a shame, for it's hard to notice it on what is usually referred to as a 'beautiful' night. Only on nights like these can it really stand out."

"And on such nights," Bulma added with a sigh, "nobody pays attention, anyway."

"Like I said," Vegeta explained, "It's a shame."

"That it is," Bulma agree, rising from her spot on the ground. "I'm going inside for something to drink. You want anything?"

"No."

"Very well."

Not wanting to dive any deeper into their conversation, Bulma made her way to the kitchen. Feeling a bit freshened from the small talk, however, she decided to take another try at getting her work done before she went to sleep. This meant that a pot of coffee was in order.

"I won't be sleeping in your bed again tonight."

Bulma jumped, startled at the dark voice penetrating what she thought was an empty kitchen. Regaining her composure Bulma commented, "Probably for the best – I won't be sleeping in it as well."

Seeing a single brow raise from Vegeta, Bulma explained, "I have work to finish tonight."

The smell of fresh coffee filled the room. Bulma sighed in relief as she got out a coffee cup and filled it with the hot beverage. Before she could drink it, however, it was forced out of her hand and the contents were dumped down the sink.

"Hey!" Bulma exclaimed, "what's the big idea?"

"I don't want you drinking this anymore," was Vegeta's simple reply.

Bulma's eyes narrowed. Rather than say anything, however, she kept her eyes focused on the black orbs before her. The silent room seemed to only add to the tension Bulma was creating between the two. The air was filled with something unfamiliar, yet known all along – and it vibrated in every particle in that room – its origin, the piercing eyes that refused to step down from their opponent.

Without looking away, Bulma reached for another coffee cup, slamming it on the counter for emphasis. She was purposely defying him, hoping he'd get the picture to just leave her alone at this point. Or perhaps she was daring him to order her again, because she was not about to take his attitude on this empty night.

As can be expected, Bulma knew he wouldn't back down from her defiance. His eyes narrowed, tightening the tension that was already between them. He took a step closer to her, his gaze never leaving hers. They stayed like that for several minutes, each minute passing with the ticking of a clock. Darkness surrounded them and there was no escaping its cold, chilled hands.

Finally, Vegeta made a move. His eyes never left hers as his hand reached over and grabbed the handle of the coffee pot. She could see something spark in his eyes, a sort of warning, before he brought the coffee pot down on the counter with such force that it shattered to pieces, sending hot liquid everywhere.

Bulma hissed as hot liquid made contact with her skin. "You jerk!" she scolded as she made her way to the sink. "There's just no getting through to you, is there, Vegeta?" she questioned, her back now to him as she reached to turn on the cold water.

She was stopped, however, by two hands being placed on waist. She froze at the unexpected contact, trying to figure out if the goose bumps forming were from the chilly night, or his warm hands. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

The next moment, Bulma found herself lifted onto the other side of the counter, away from all the broken glass. She tried to look up at him, but he was to the side of her now, wetting down a wash cloth. He returned in front of her, softly placing the cold cloth to her cheek, removing what hot liquid had made its way to her pale, sleepy face. She closed her eyes, feeling the cloth slowly glide down her neck in such a gentle manner.

When she opened her eyes, he was seemingly concentrating on her legs. He let the cloth glide over them, removing what dark liquid had formed on her fair skin. Studying him further, however, she noticed his gaze was far off. She realized, then, he was dwelling on something, and at a loss for words. She bit her bottom lip trying to contemplate what she had said that had him so deep in thought.

The tension that had taken over the room moments ago, was now gone, and they were both left with a soft silence. Bulma wondered if she should break the silence to ease things, but decided against it, as it was much more comfortable, on both parties, to let Vegeta finish whatever he was pondering.

"I didn't mean to harm you," he finally said in a barely heard whisper. "I never intend to – I never did."

"Now that's a scary thought," Bulma cut him off, "'Cause I specifically remember you giving me a bruise right here in this very kitchen."

The wash cloth had stopped its cleansing as Vegeta removed his hand, clenching it at his side. His gaze refused to meet hers, and Bulma found it odd how suddenly he appeared to be intimidated, though she knew better. His gaze went off again, drowning himself in his own thoughts. This time, however, Bulma wouldn't allow the silence to continue.

"I don't belong to you, Vegeta," Bulma whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She quickly realized they were forming from her own exhaustion.

"Not yet you don't."

"I never will," Bulma choked out in a low, yet stern voice.

Vegeta, slowly spreading her legs apart, pulled her forward on the counter. His hands made their way into her lab coat, pulling her closer to his own body.

Bulma felt her breath suddenly becoming shorter. His touch had done many things to her, but this feeling she was experiencing at that moment was something she had never experienced with him before. She had chills going down her spine…and she liked it.

His nose buried in her neck as he deeply inhaled her scent. Bulma felt her eyes close as his mouth reached her ear. Slowly he whispered, "That's too bad."

That statement had done it.

"Stop playing with me," Bulma rolled her eyes, "I'm too far off drowning in this game." When he didn't reply Bulma decided to push the point further to make sure he got it in his head, "You hear me, Vegeta? I'm not out there waving to you," she flared her arms for emphasis, "I'm drowning."

"You've had it?" Vegeta replied in a harsh tone, "Have you thought how I possibly feel about this?"

"Feel?" Bulma was now getting angrier by the moment, "You've never felt a single emotion, Vegeta! Don't go try changing this around to try and get me into bed."

"I'm not trying to get you into bed," Vegeta harshly informed her, "I want this!"

Bulma's eyes met his, expecting something, anything…

"What?" she asked, suddenly and with force. "What is it you want?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he leaned back into her, his nose just barely touching hers. In a dark, harsh tone that sent shivers through Bulma's body he replied, "You overwhelm me with hatred…you," he spat," make me feel hatred." He let a low laugh before taking in a breath and continuing in a lower tone, "Do you want to know the most twisted part of this?" he asked, his voice suddenly dropping even more until it was just short of a heavy breath. "I love the fact I can feel this hatred."

Bulma's eyes widened as her stomach suddenly dropped. She watched as he turned away, moving out of the kitchen.

"That's the last move I'm making," he called to her without even turning, "the final move is yours."

"I…" Bulma tried to protest, but found she couldn't get any other words out. She took in a deep breath, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"And, Bulma," Vegeta called, "get some sleep."

With that, he exited the kitchen.

One week later…

Sleep…a close friend to one who suffers from a long day and endures the harshness that the world has to offer. It was a comfort to those who failed to live up to what they wanted to be so desperately; for it is in sleep that one is introduced to dreams. And those dreams are the small comfort that whispers in the ear of the one slumbering that perhaps there still is hope. Perhaps there is security. Perhaps solitude isn't forever. Perhaps…Perhaps not…

Darkness crept into the hallway, filling its long lengths with an insatiable blackness that continued to consume everything in its path. It drank the color upon any object before yielding it to be nothing more than invisible. Another victim of the only thing the night seemed to offer.

But darkness wasn't entirely evil, for it was only an absence of light, and light wouldn't be nearly as glorious if there wasn't any darkness to compare it to. And it was that same darkness that captured a bare foot stepping out from behind what was just a closed door. It was followed by another foot, each connected to legs that eventually formed the body of a woman. Such fair skin was darkened by the blackness, but not completely lost. Pale skin made its way down the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Darkness tried its best to overtake the kitchen that night, but was partially frightened away by the stars' light shining through the window. There was nothing that could scare darkness away. Nothing, that is, except for light. A small amount of a dim, blue light made its way into the room; a woman stepped into that light, her figure finally revealed from the shadows, basked in a blue light that made her appearance nothing short of enchanting. Perhaps not so much enchanting as melancholy, as she stood by the window holding a hot mug in her hands. The sweet smells of cocoa filled the air, deadening the loud calls of silence just a bit.

The cup was hot, and as heat travels to the coldest object, it ran through the hands of the woman, her fingertips no longer numb to her own emotion. Slowly, she blew some of the steam from the top of the cup, mesmerized by the effect her breath had on it. She brought the cup to her lips, slowly taking a drink, letting the liquid flow into her mouth, her tongue ravaging the sweet taste. Then it ran through her, sending heat flowing through her veins and satisfaction flowing through her being. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes, just breathing the moment. Then she made her way to the table, her entire body no longer in the light, though not entirely out of its reach.

Sighing deeply, she rested her head on the table, her hair flowing across its hard surface. Silence was broken as a low thunder could be heard in the background; surely a sign that spring would soon be upon them. It lifted her spirits slightly knowing that soon she'd be out of the grasp of winter's unforgiving hands.

A smile just barely graced her lips as she slowly lifted her head to take another drink of the hot liquid that seemed to satisfy her so much.

There was a good reason the woman arrived at this point on this night, a very good reason…

She couldn't sleep.