Bulma snarled at the mirror

Summary: Statistics have proven that every DBZ fan fiction writer feels obligated to write a Vegita/Bulma fic, and whether they want to or not will eventually give into the silent temptation.  If all is well, then mine will be a little bit different, a little bit funny, a little bit dramatic, a little bit cute, a little bit angsty, and a little bit sexy too. =^_^=

AN: This should be read as a series of glimpses or moments into Vegita and Bulma's romance.  This *is* a stand-alone fic.  I wrote it in a series of totally unrelated events, just "moments".  No one particularly relates to another, but they are in a semi-chronological order.  I wrote many of the scenes the way I did because I felt that both Vegita and Bulma's character are strong, competitive people, and thus like in anything else they do, romance would always be a semi-competition as well.   I'd love any response you could give me.

Moments In A Love Story


        Bulma snarled at the mirror.  In the reflection, behind the desk and the computer, standing in the doorway like he was prince of *this* planet, not a dead one, smiled her nemesis.  Vegita's eyes locked on to hers through the mirror, and he sneered that terrible, unnerving smirk.  Bulma's eyebrows rose and once again that low throaty snarl escaped her lower lip.  He would _not_ win.

        Today was going to be her victory.  No matter that he always won.  No matter that he had already proven several times over that he had the upper hand.  Today, she would have the last word.  Today, no monkey-faced Saiyan would get the best of her.  She had her species' pride to hold up, her woman's pride to hold up, and her always-been-the-best-at-everything pride to hold up.  This would be the last time she lost an argument to a short, obnoxious, overbearing alien with hair like a troll doll.  She would have her revenge.

        "If you've quite finished staring holes into that looking-glass," said obnoxious overbearing alien drawled, "The gravity room requires your attention.  It seems to have broken again."

        Bulma's grip on the back of the vanity chair she was leaning forward on tightened, and she snapped, "Maybe if you stopped trying to destroy it from the inside out, I wouldn't have to fix it so often."

        Vegita's eyebrows rose, and he once again adopted a feral, disdainful expression.  "Maybe if you fixed it right the first time it would stop falling apart like those useless fossil-fuel automobiles you humans are so fond of."

        That was it.  She could not take this any more.  Bulma spun around at him, her voice near to shrieking.  "GET. OUT. OF. MY. ROOM!"

        With a short, wicked laugh Vegita floated straight backward, letting the door slam where he had just stood less than a millisecond before.  His eyes settled on the poly-carbon shield between him and her and he couldn't help the grin that was etched on his face.  When he wasn't training, provoking the Bulma had become his recent most favorite pastime.  Until recently he'd done his best to ignore her and her family's existence at all, but even Saiyan princes get bored.  And what better way to keep himself mildly entertained than to torment the surrounding lesser creatures?


        It was a nice, "pleasant" morning.  Outside, birds chirped, gentle breezes tickled the tree leaves, and cute little furry animals went about their business of frolicking in the sunshine and avoiding the bigger, less cute and more teethy animals.  Vegita though, neither noticed nor would have cared if he did.  Vegita munched his cold chicken wing and took on his second favorite expression—boredom.  His favorite expression was actually insane anger, but he wasn't that irritated right then, just intensely uninterested.  Well… maybe not as uninterested as he pretended.

        "SO let me see if I understand this, woman," he said, chewing on the dark meat off the leftover cold chicken, "You're upset because you and that weaseley little pipsqueak are no longer involved?"

        "Yeeeesssssss…." Came the pathetic moan from the woman across the kitchen table, her hand over her face and an untouched food plate in front of her.

        "Yet *you* broke up with him," he pressed.

        "Yes dammit!" Bulma whined, her shoulders drooping.

        "Sounds like a weakling like you can't make up your mind so you plan to sit there feeling sorry for yourself all day.  One more example of why I'm glad I wasn't raised on this pathetic rock. No decision making capabilities whatsoever." Vegita took another bite. "And really," he added, "I know weaklings like you cry easily, but it's not like breaking up with that moron is something a person should be even the tiniest bit upset about."

        Bulma flopped her head down on the table, hiding her face in her arms and looking like a completely miserable wretch.  She would have made an effort to cover her ears, but she suspected the dumb prince would only talk louder.

        "Kami Vegita, do you have to go on and on about it like that?  I'm unhappy enough as it is."

        He stopped chewing for a moment, seemed to ponder the question, then said almost perkily, "Yes, I do."

        "Why????" she groaned.

        "Because you hate it, ergo, I'm going to enjoy every minute of saying it."

        Bulma groaned again, and slowly brought her hands up to cover her ears.

        "That won't do you any good you know," he smirked.

        "Ugghh…just die and let me wallow in my self pity, please."


        "I do not see the purpose."

        Bulma yawned, and blearily opened her eyes a little wider.  She eyeballed her watch irritatedly.  It was WAY too late.  How long was he going to keep her up answering his stupid questions?  "Look Vegita, when humans marry, they plan to spend the rest of their lives together.  The vow says 'Till death do us part.'"

        Vegita, not as tired as Bulma and definitely more alert, glared. "I understood that part, baka.  What I don't see is WHY.  Does something happen to you genetically when you marry that enables you to procreate?"

        Bulma raised her eyes up to his face, and started to giggle.  This made Vegita, let's say, less than happy.  "WHAT the hell are YOU giggling at?"

        The young scientist shook her head and managed to stop giggling, even if she still couldn't keep the smile completely off her face.  "No…" she replied, still very amused.  "No Vegita, we humans don't change in any physical way when we get married."

        Vegita was still frowning.  "So then you don't need to be …"married" to procreate?"

        She shook her head no, hand covering her mouth, cornflower blue eyes shining in mirth.

        "Then what is the POINT?  If it's not necessary, then why saddle yourself to stay with another human for the rest of your LIFE?"

        Bulma looked away, visions of a tall warrior with dark hair and scars filling her eyes.  Suddenly, she didn't feel so amused anymore.  Refusing to look back at the Saiyan and let him see that she was on the point of crying, she replied quietly, her voice hitched. 

        "I guess…" she paused, then suddenly continued quickly, her voice cool and detached.  "Vegita, humans get lonely.  We're a very social species.  And longing for a… mate is part of our wiring.  So humans look and look and look… which is actually a rather horrendous experience called "dating"… and when we find a person whose company we enjoy and who we are attracted to, we develop an emotional attachment.  If the attachment is strong enough, we call it love.  If a person falls in love, the other person returns it, and nothing else gets in the way of the relationship, they get married."

        Vegita's jet eyes traced Bulma's profile as she spoke.  She was refusing to look at him, instead looking out the window to the night.

        "Why do you say 'fall'?"

        "What?" her head jerked back around to face him.

        He frowned.  "You said 'falls in love'."

        Bulma's eyes looked back at him blankly, her eyebrows furrowed.  "Yeah."

        "So why do you use the word "fall'?"

        Bulma sighed and turned back to the window again.  Her head was starting to pound.  "Vegita, its almost 2:30 in the morning.  Do you have to ask inane questions now?"

        Vegita's frown turned into a full-fledged glare.  "Woman, *you* are the one who demanded to teach me about this stupid planet's customs.  So answer the question."

         Bulma put her hand on her forward, dragging it over her exhausted eyes.  "We say fall because… because… we just do.  Probably because when you fall in love with someone its like jumping head first into an abyss.  Suddenly your whole world is focused on that person.  And it's not always easy, either.  If two people fall in love but are too different for the relationship to work, one or both gets their heart broken.  If someone falls in love and it's one-sided, that person gets their heart broken.  All in all it's a colossal mess that brings more pain than happiness."  Bulma winced to herself.  That last line sounded way too close to home.  She stood from the chair, and walked to the kitchen door, intent on sleep.  Silence followed her, and then:

        "Then why do it?"

        The Briefs woman paused, and then said quietly over her shoulder, "Cause if it's returned, then being in love is the most fascinating, exhilarating, breathtaking experience in the world."  Vegita was still sitting in the kitchen when she left.


        The chessboard rested on the table between them like a miniature portion of No Man's Land.  With cautious or bold moves, whatever the situation called for, each ventured out onto the tiny onyx battlefield.  He was black, because he was Saiyan and he would have it no other way.  She was white, because, well, it was the complete opposite of what HE took.  It just happened to be coincidence that that was the only color left.

        Showing him the moves had been easy.  Then the game had begun.


        He was winning.  She was winning.  The mental combat continued.

        He moved his knight forward to the left, taking her bishop.  She didn't mind; it had been a calculated loss. 


        She responded by castling her king, leaving her rook in position to take down his other knight.  When he followed up by taking her rook to save the knight, she'd be in place to take out his elusive queen. 


        He moved a pawn.

        She sucked in her breath.

        He grinned.


        She smirked.

        It was a battle of a genius and a warlord.  It was a contest between wits and experience.  It was a game of conquest; to lose meant everything, to win meant everything. 


        When Bulma suddenly came to herself, when she took a moment to think back on the last few hours, she realized she'd saved his life.  A gentle expression flowed over her features, and she allowed herself to fancy that she might be the first female ever to do that.  The blue haired woman traced a finger slowly along his jaw line.  His accident in the gravity generator hadn't marred a single feature.

        You fool, she thought, not really sure which of them she was addressing.  Damn his disregard of the safety levels.  It would have been such a waste to destroy a face as this.  No particular element of it was beautiful, but together the whole came out handsome.  Not cute like Goku's was, or pretty like Yamcha's had once been, but… striking.  Exotic.

        Bulma pulled her finger back as if she'd touched acid.  She shouldn't be thinking about Vegita like that.  Vegita was dangerous.  Vegita was half-mad, at the very least.  Vegita wanted to kill Goku, and sell her planet into slavery, or maybe just blow it up for fun.

        With an angry huff she sat back in her chair, pulling herself as far from the sleeping man on the bed as possible, but not leaving.  Maybe I should have let him die, Bulma thought.  It would have simplified a lot of problems.  It would have been smart, and prudent.

        But Bulma had never been big on prudence.  And she'd already pulled him out of the rubble and tended his injuries.  There was no point in thinking about it now.  She crossed her arms and looked anywhere but the attractive half-naked male sleeping less than half a foot out of her reach.


        Train.  Train.  He had to train.  Vegita had no time for simpering human females.  He had no more time to waste irritating that woman.  Focus.  He had to train.

        The attainment of Supersaiyan status was so close, he could nearly taste it.  He knew it couldn't be far beyond his reach now.  He had been training harder than ever before in his life.  This was all that mattered to him.  All.

        Becoming a Supersaiyan was far more important than that blue-haired hellcat.  There was no way he could let some spoiled human harpy distract him from his goal.  Even if she was crying.  Crying was a waste if energy and if she let herself get caught up in her emotions that wasn't his problem.  It was only another sign of her inferiority. 

        And her certainly didn't care if she was crying because of him.  Really, it was of no consequence to him so she might as well just grab a tissue and shut up.  At least in here training he didn't have to listen to her.  She was always trying to make him mad.  He just knew she did it all on purpose.  He bet even this crying thing was just another ploy to irritate the hell out of him.  But he wouldn't be baited.  He wouldn't feel sorry for the dumb woman.  And he certainly wouldn't apologize either.  She should learn to take care of herself and stop giving in to her weakness.

        DAMN!  He was doing it again!  He was here to train, not to think about HER!


        Vegita never knew watching someone else eat could be such a… fascinating experience.  There she sat, the blue haired woman, just lounging on the porch without a care in the world, oblivious to everything, eating an orange.

        He watched in semi-wonder as Bulma gently peeled away the thick rind, and then carefully pulled apart the thick fruit.  His jet black eyes carefully followed every move her fingers made, enthralled but the way she looked as she bit into a wedge of the ripe citrus and the rivers of sticky juice trailed down her chin.  She raised one finger and vainly tried to wipe it off her skin, then licked her finger to savor the taste.

        His gaze lingered on her lips with each succulent bite she took, unable to look away from the unintentionally erotic image.  She had no idea the reaction he was having, just staring at her as she tasted the orange.  She was driving him mad.


        His teeth nipped lightly at her lower lip, then let his tongue follow, and Bulma felt her determination quaver.  His fingers tickled hotly on her stomach, tracing the skin under her shirt.  It wasn't fair.  He's not allowed to do that, she thought, just as he pulled her to his chest.  How was she supposed to hold up a decent argument when he kept—kept—  heh… Bulma's eyes fired at that moment, and she grinned nastily, his lips still on hers unknowingly.  Oh no.  He wasn't going to get out of it this way.  The war was just beginning. 

        Vegita felt a minor change in the soft body in his arms, pulled back the slightest breadth, instinctively knowing something was up.  He found Bulma staring up at him, flushed and heady, but with a strange glint in her crystal blue eyes.  His own blacks narrowed suspiciously, and then widened in shock when Bulma suddenly threw her weight into him.  His muscular arms instinctively tightened around her small form for a moment, and then he leapt three feet back, as if she was a snake.

        "What the hell are you up to woman?" Vegita demanded.

        Bulma smiled sweetly at him and held up her right hand.  Between two fingers was the gravity chamber activation key she had filched from his clothing.  Vegita saw it and snarled.

        "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

        "Oh, nothing," she said with a sipid tone, and carefully—so he could see clearly what she was doing—tucked it down her shirt and into her braw.  "Now, you won't be needing this for a while will you?  I'm sure you won't mind if I keep it for a bit."

        All the blood rushed to Vegita's face in a wave. How— how *dare*— how  *dare* that woman—

        Bulma tried not to look anxious as she saw Vegita's face glaring down at her and getting redder and redder with rage.  She took a few hesitant steps back, knowing that she had no hope in hell of outrunning him.  A little perceptive thought went off in her brain, and she suddenly snapped her head to the window and said, "Goku?" in a surprised voice.

        Vegita's head snapped around at window as well, his anger getting even bigger at this new distraction.  How had Bulma noticed Kakarott's presence before him?  How would she even know the other Saiyan was there at all--  wasn't. There. At all. 

        "KUSO!!!!" He yelled and turned from the empty window to find Bulma predictably gone.

        Bulma dashed into her lab, her thin tennis shoes sliding on the metal floor, and she jammed the heavy door shut as fast as she could.  I can't believe he bought it, she thought with a kind of happy disbelief.  He was the only one on the planet egotistical enough for that to still work on.  Glancing around hectically at the laboratory, she sighed a faint sigh of relief and darted to the switch a few feet away.  She flipped it and her lab became, for the moment at least, *almost* Vegita-proof.

        She felt momentarily guilty as she thought of the data she'd collected from monitoring his training in the gravity chamber to create this system, then banished the thought with a brush of her hand.  She'd needed the data anyway to keep the gravity room from breaking for the same reason twice.  Her thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a muffled blast, a crackling noise, and then loud swearing.  Bulma jumped back from the wall, startled.

        The blast, crackling, and curses came again.  Bulma looked at her watch quickly.  The absorption barrier she's been playing around with wouldn't hold up against an angry Saiyan Prince for long, no matter how well it was designed.  She reckoned she had maybe two and a half, three minutes before Vegita figured to find and blow the connection fuses, probably less.  Giving a frustrated but not entirely unhappy sigh, she swiftly grabbed a jacket from the med-suit closet, pocketed a few apples from the soda-filled mini fridge, and climbed on top of one of the lab tables against the wall.

        Reaching up, Bulma strained to push at the little box-like window above her.  She nearly jumped out of her skin when another, larger boom came from outside the lab door.  Various gadgets in the room started to beep in response to the stress.  With a grimace Bulma pushed harder on the small square of glass.  Kami seemed to have pity on her and it popped cleanly out onto the ground a few inches below.

        The Beautiful Intrepid Brief Scientist Being Chased By The Angry Bad Guy squealed in delight and pulled herself up by her hands, bracing her elbows against the sides of the window.  Bulma pushed herself out through the small hole, and then yanked her feet up and out behind her.  The main lab at Capsule Corps was mostly below ground level, and the circulation window she was escaping though was just barely above it, so she couldn't avoid getting a few rocks digging in her chest and knees climbing out.  It was all worth it to Bulma though, because she knew the hole was definitely too small for Mr. Angry Spiky-Haired Saiyan, when he realized where she had gone that is.  With a satisfied smile she hurriedly pushed the glass back into the gap.  She wedged it in place with a brick, and started running like hell away from Capsule Corps.  

        Bulma was almost across the large lawn to the trees when she heard a loud, unmistakably Vegita-originated crash.  The ground rumbled, and the round Capsule Corps building seemed to shake a little.  There goes the first wall of my beautiful science lab, she thought with a wince.  She looked down at her chest and pulled out the activation key.  She grinned at it a little, stuffed it back in her bra, and murmured, "Well, for a first kiss, that wasn't bad at all."


        "Wha—what are you doing?" She asked frantically, breaking away from his passionate onslaught to look at the ground that was now more than thirty feet below them.  "We're— we're—"

        "Flying," Vegita provided with a slightly bewildered look at her.  "Didn't Yamcha ever fly with you?"

        "Well, yes," Bulma muttered evasively.  "But it was only a few times when something was bad happening and we had to get there really fast."  And certainly not ever to make out with me, she added silently.

        Vegita raised his eyebrows again, and shrugged slightly.  "That was his loss then," he replied, surprised at the words coming from his mouth.  Then he looked closely at her face.  "Would you like to really go flying?" he asked suddenly.  As soon as he said it he almost wanted to retract the offer.  What in Kami's name was making him do all of this?  This was completely unlike him.  But he didn't take it back, and waited for the woman in his embrace to reply.

        Bulma bit her bottom lip.  She had never been afraid of heights before, but being on the ground then suddenly in the air without realizing there had even been a change was a bit too much for her.  However, the more she thought about it, the more her brain got attached to the idea.  She'd been secretly jealous of Goku and Krillin's ability to take to the air like it was nothing.  Now Vegita –angry, rude, arrogant, perpetually hard to ignore Vegita was offering her the chance to feel what it was like.  Don't forget to add good kissing to that list, her brain reprimanded her.

        "Yes.  Yes," she answered softly at first, then more determined.  She looked up at him with those big cornflower blue eyes and Vegita had the sinking feeling that he might be winning the battle but losing the war.

        "Ok then," he said, and turned her around in his arms so fast she almost didn't even feel it.  Now he had her back pressed tightly against his chest, with his arms snugly around her waist.  Startled at her sudden change in position, and finding herself looking only strait down at the ground far far below, Bulma began to panic. 

        "Shh…sshh…relax," Vegita murmured in an uncharacteristically soft tone. His face was up against her hair, and he could feel the blue silky touch as it fluttered against his cheeks.  Her head was slightly below, in the corner between his own head and his shoulder.  He was a little surprised that despite her brave words Bulma was trembling like she was terrified.  So the spitfire does scare sometimes, Vegita thought.  Trying to get her to lighten up, he spoke quietly and steadily into her ear.  "I won't let you fall."  He felt her calm down and ease in his arms.

        His safe grip around her waist was more for keeping her to him than for holding her from falling; Vegita's own ki had enveloped them both and was already doing the work of lifting for him.  As long as she stayed close to him, Bulma was just as light as he was.

        "Now," he said quietly, hovering still in place, "stretch out your arms."

        Bulma didn't, and he chuckled at her obvious fear of letting go herself and trusting someone else that much.  "I already told you I wouldn't let you fall. And I don't say things I don't mean.  Just trust me and stretch out your arms."

        Trust me, he said.  Bulma closed her eyes to the dizzying view below her.  It was one thing to be in an airplane or to hold tightly onto Yamcha's neck and not have to look down, but to be like this, with nothing below her, and for Vegita to ask her to *let* *go* of him; it was insane.  She heard his dry chuckle again and instantly opened her eyes, forgetting for a moment in her exasperation with him about the empty air below.  Bulma tried to crane her neck around to look him in the face and get him to stop laughing at her, but it was very awkward.  She gave up on trying and instead closed her eyes again.

         She was going to do this.  She was going to do this!  Trust me.  Trust Vegita.  Trust the Prince of Saiyans who had tried to obliterate her best friend and who had threatened to kill her for the Dragonballs.  Let go and trust that Vegita would hold onto her, a mere human, that he would keep her safe.  Could she do that?

         Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled her fingers away from their death grip on his forearms.  Gradually, eyes still closed, she reached her hands out to her sides, like a bird's wings.  She could feel Vegita's warm breath on her hair and the back of her neck.  Then Bulma felt a cool breeze start to brush her face, and she realized they were moving forward.  Arms still outstretched, she risked opening one eye.

         Her other eye came open immediately after the first, taking in the fantastic sight of the sea moving beneath her.  She could see the stars' bright reflection in the dark water, and she gasped in wonder.  Then they began to rise, as Vegita took her higher and higher.  They came over land again, and this time she could see forest below, with small valleys and hills, and occasionally houses or towns.  Bulma let a girlish giggle, stretching her fingers out as far from her body as she could.  She was flying!  She felt like a bird or an angel.  Vegita's arms were holding her safely close to his body, and the world unrolled beneath them.

        "Faster!" she demanded to him, laughing at the air.  "We have to go faster!"


        "Well, then what did she do?"

        "The onna slapped me.  As if that would do anything to me."


        "Um... Vegita, she probably knew that it wouldn't hurt you. But that's not really the point."

        "What the hell do you mean by that?"

        "Well… the point is not that she tried to harm you, the point is that you did something to make her SLAP you across the face."

        "What the hell is the DIFFERENCE???"

        "Well… I guess the difference is that women only seem to slap you across the face if you've done something truly horrible to hurt them.  I mean-- Chichi's only slapped me once, after I came back from space.  I think… I THINK it was because I had left her alone for over two years."

        "I fail to see your point in this."

        "It's just that you really REALLY hurt her.  The only thing left now is to apologize."

        "I am not apologizing to that pathetic human. I will do nothing of the sort."

        "Okay.  Bulma can really hold a grudge though, believe me. If you need a place you could stay a while he---"

        "I don't need YOUR hospitality!  Especially with that noisy bitch you married!"



         Mrs. Brief stood in the doorway to the family room, watching in amusement as Bulma argued violently with nice young man.  She glanced down at her wrist timer, noting that it read 2 minutes and 31 seconds.  She'd taken to wearing it lately, specifically for the purpose of timing her daughter's arguments. 

         The pair was approaching the three-minute mark.  It was about to get really interesting— the arguments were always short and after three minutes they perpetually either started kissing, started raging and throwing things, or stomped off to separate areas of the house.

        "Two fifty-eight, two fifty-nine…"  she counted.



        "Three o seven, three  o eight…"



        "Three ten, three eleven…ahhhh…" Bulma's mother sighed, pleased that they'd decided on kissing today.  It really was much better when Bulma and that nice young man were kissing instead of fighting.  Their arguments were so disruptive to her peace of mind.  Nevertheless, the two looked so cute together when they were angry that she really couldn't hold it against them.  Aaahhhh… the joys of children in love…


        He touched her cheek with one finger.  His calloused skin reveled in the softness of hers.  Bulma's blue haired fanned out on the bed, and her palm rested warmly against his muscled chest.  Her gorgeous eyes were still closed in sleep.  Vegita wanted to wake her, so he could look into them one more time, but strangely, he did not. 

        "Ashke," he whispered, fingertips caressing her perfect lips, her perfect complexion.  His feathery contact was so delicate, so light, that it was almost non-existent.  Just enough to feel her.  Just enough to drink in the sensation of her presence.  "Ashke, I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that I can't be human for you."

        Bulma breathed in lightly, and the small hand on his chest moved a little, spreading fingers out to reassure its owner, then falling back into stillness.  A blue bang fluttered down over her eyes, tickling her nose.  Not wanting her to awaken yet, he brushed it aside.  It was like silk to him, and that was something he'd only known about when he came here.  There was no material like it in the universe, except on her Earth.

        "Oh ashke, you have right to be proud of it," he said softly.  "This place, this planet, I lied.  It is beautiful.  Raditz and Nappa and I would not have come to take it from you if it was not."

        A band of sunlight, slipping from the between window shades, played in her sky blue hair.  Vegita let his gaze rest on it.  He wanted to remember it, the sun on her hair.  He wanted something, one thing pure to take with him.  Out there, far away from this little planet, the galaxy was unforgiving and unkind.  If he had to bare his soul, then he would bare it here, where all he had to think about was watching her sleep.

        "I'm sorry I can't change for you, ashke.  I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."  He black eyes followed after his fingers, memorizing every part of her.  "I'm sorry I'm choosing my ambition over you."

        "I can't let you save me, ashke.  I can't."

         Vegita lifted his fingers from the blue silk, and drew back.  Her hand fell from his chest unknowingly back to the bed.   She breathed deeply once, but did not stir.  He brought distance between them, forced the gap wider any way he could.  The prince dressed slowly, soundlessly, watching the sleeping woman with a solemn eye.

        When he had nothing left to put on, no more reason to stay in the room any longer, he walked to the door.  At the threshold, he stilled, and turned.  Untroubled, Bulma slept, peaceful and unaware.  Awake, she was rambunctious, active, fiery, absorbing, fascinating, teasing, loud, infuriating, and unreal.  When she slept she was only… serenity.

        "I'm leaving, and if I ever come back it will be as a Supersaiyan.  I hope that if that day comes, I will return to find you happily married and living out a wonderful life with a human that can love you, and the children you long so much for.  I think, Bulma, that I could be happy with that."

        Vegita narrowed his eyes and stepped though her door for what he expected to be the last time.


        Bulma traced a lazy hand over her belly.  With the swelling of her body she could feel it inside of her, a life growing.  A part of him, and a part of her.  With a sigh she looked once again up into the stars, imagining that she could see him out there.

        "You may be stubborn, Vegita, but you'll be back on Earth someday, and when that happens you'll find that I'm still here."

        She smiled with determination.  "My prince, my fool, you may think you're solving the situation by leaving, but this is something you can't solve.  I have a claim on you, a claim that's stronger even than your claim on Goku, and I'm not going to give that up for anything.  Your hate is nothing to my love and our child."

        A warm breeze wafted down to dance in her hair, silvery in the moonlight.  Bulma's eyes were bright as she gazed heavenward.  "Fair travels, Vegita."



            AN (#2): "ashke" is a word I got from reading Mercedes Lackey books.  It translates to "beloved".  As you can probably tell I was listening to a lot of moody music when I wrote the end.  Then I thought; "I can't end it sad, this was supposed to be my happy B/V fic dammit!"  So I wrote the final glimpse on Bulma, and her take on Vegita's attempt to save her from himself.

AN (#3): The second to last line where Bulma says " than your claim on Goku" was not a romantic/sexual remark, you hentais.  She was talking about his claim of vengeance and victory over Goku.  I just wanted to make sure you all understood that.

AN (#4): I'll admit it—the flying part came from my own real fantasy of wondering what it would be like to kiss someone while floating in the air like they did on the Lois & Clark (Superman) TV show.  It just looked really really fun, no da.  And I've always wanted to fly.  So I figure, if you can't fly, then being in love with someone who can take you flying has got to be darn close to it.  God knows if I had a boyfriend that could fly I'd convince him to take me with him at LEAST every other time he went up.  But we can't all have Vegita or Trunks or Gohan as our boyfriend can we?

Duo— Shaka!  Does that mean I'm not your favorite anymore?! **pouty face**
Shaka— Of course not! **glomps Duo**  You've got Deathscythe!  You know you'll always ALWAYS be my favorite Shini-chan!  You and Nuriko of course.  And Tasuki.

Duo— Nuriko?  How can he be your favorite?  He's gay!  And that drunken fang-boy has nothing on me!
Shaka-- **shrug**  …I dunno.  Tasuki sure is good lookin' though.  ** glomps Duo again** AND AS FOR NURIKO WELL GUESS I JUST HAVE THING FOR ANIME GUYS WITH  BRAIDS!
Duo-- **gasping** Breathe, Shaka!— Need— to— breathe!
Shaka-- **suddenly notices the readers staring pityingly at Duo** Oops…er... sorry Shini-chan!  Goodbye people!  Don't forget to review!