Cherry: Ah, welcome to another brilliant and romantic installment of my…um…romantic ficcys. Today I will skip my usual musings since this is supposed to be a serious love fic. Key words: 'supposed to.' As usual, I have taken even a serious idea and injected in some humor. Otherwise, would you really read this? No. Well, maybe you would if you had no life, but my 'normal' *represses hysterical laughter* readers wouldn't. So this has become yet another funny romance, but with the cliché twist: it is an affair! The first chappie though, it has a little bitty bit of a lemon…

Kuro: Bitty-bit? Child, it's like a kink-fest.

Cherry: Okay, maybe it does have a full on lemon or two, and just a hint at the end, but that's why this is rated 'R'. Trust me, I've been to the movies and seen much worse in a rated R movie.

Kuro: What movies do you go and see…?

Cherry: *death-glares Kuro the kitsune (yes, she is a kitsune too)* Do shut up, dearest muse, or I may have to kill you. *clears throat* Anyways, as I was saying, lemon warning. Maybe more in later chapters. I don't know quite yet. But this fic is SO not gonna be one big hard-sex, random boinking-type thing. But yeah, as I've said twenty times now. There is a lemon in the first chapter. Boy, won't Vegeta be angry when he finds out what happened that night....

Vegeta: What...???

Cherry:  *Happy squeals* Veggie-chan!!! *huggles Vegeta within an inch of his life*
               

Vegeta: Ack! Get away you pest.... GET OFF I SAY!!!!

Cherry:  *huggles tighter*  =^___^=

Kuro: *hands Vegeta an Acme-Brand Authoress Prybar* Here, take this...and Godspeed, you brave saiyajin.... *salutes all army-like*

Vegeta: *looks at the prybar* Now how should I use this...? *shrugs and whaps Cherry Wolf over the head with the prybar*

::CLONK::

               

Cherry:  @__@ *slides down limply* Lookit all the pretty paisley ponies, mama... *faints*

Kuro:  *looks at Cherry lying unconsious* Heheheheh...*shakes Vegeta hand in respect and nods politely* You sir, are my idol...

Vegeta: *shrugs* No big deal...she was really starting to get on my nerves...

Kuro:  *looks at the unconsious Cherry again, then to Vegeta* So...you wanna go get a beer or something?

Vegeta:  Eh, okay...

::And so  Vegeta and Kuro walk of to go get their...beer, leaving the beautiful, young authoress unconsious on the cold, studio floor (most likely to die), leaving the fic to start on it's own. Oh yeah, and the party 'Cherry Wolf' does not own DBZ, nor a halfway decent 5-disk changer....::

***

"Ignorant bitch!!!"

"Fucking Prick!!!"

::SLAM::

Bulma stomped outside, still pulling on a jacket. Another fight with Vegeta, another appliance destroyed. This time, it was the toaster. It would have hit him square between the eyes, but he had ducked and the toaster slammed into the wall, breaking into a million pieces. Everything Vegeta did seemed to annoy her, and vice versa. She hated fighting when Trunks was around, but he didn't seem to mind. He'd usually sit down, bag of chips in hand, and cheer one of them on. Come to think of it, she hated fighting altogether. She loved Vegeta too much. And she wanted to hold the family together for Trunks' and Bra's sake.

The cool night air ruffled her hair as she made her way down the sidewalk. She shivered and walked faster. She just had to get away. She cut across the green of the park, heading to her 'special place.' It was a secret area that only she and one other knew of. On the outside, it looked like an old, unkempt and rather run-down garden that had been long forgotten. But once the massive palisade doors were unlocked, it became a veritable haven. The sakuras, when in bloom, smelled so sweet and looked so sumptuous, that they had a tranquilizing effect on the mind and soul. And that's just what she needed at a time like this. She put her hand to the door and closed her eyes, absorbing the sweet scent that wafted over the walls. She sighed at the memories of young love. Her serenity was dashed, however, the instant she realized she had forgotten the gate key at home.

"Kuso!" she cussed angrily, pounding the door with her fist.

The old gate creaked open a bit, revealing a sliver of pink from the blossoms within. She gasped suddenly. Did I forget to lock the door the last time I was here? No, the door had an automatic-locking mechanism, so that option is ruled out... I probably just didn't close it all the way the last time I was here...

The heavy gates groaned on their hinges as Bulma shoved them open. She gently closed the doors behind her and only moved when she heard the click of the doors as they swung into place. She walked over to an old and worn cherry blossom tree and let her fingers traverse the bark. She stopped when they fell into a carved rut. She let her fingers trace the initials carved there: A 'Y' and a 'B' enclosed in a heart that was oddly etched out and slightly lopsided. She had to blink back a tear that came to her eye when she was flooded by sudden, fond memories. Her fingers dropped from the trunk, and she sunk down between the roots, the soft pink petals from the boughs above falling down to her heaving bosom.

"Needed to get away?"

Bulma gasped and looked around. Yamcha sat on the other side of the tree; his head turned slightly, a smile curled around his teeth. She hadn't noticed him there when she first came in; she had too much on her mind. He got up and came to sit with her, and Bulma rested her head against his shoulder. He smelled nice, kind of spicy and dreamy at the same time. He didn't sling his arm around her like she thought he would, instead he drew his knees up and rested his elbows there. He gave a huge sigh and looked down at her.

"Another fight with Vegeta?" he inquired.

"Uh-huh." she nodded.

"What appliance was destroyed this time? The blender?"

"I...Wh...But...You..! I never...You...!" she stammered with rage. Then she sighed. "No, the toaster actually." she muttered.

"Ah, well, I guess...that's the least of your problems, eh?"

"Yeah." she sighed. "Hey," she asked, looking up at him.

"Hmmm?"

"...Well, why did you come here? The hell of it?" she finished.

"Well...no. Actually, I needed a mental holiday. If I didn't get out of the house, I woulda ended up slitting my wrists or throat...or...or blowing out my brains. Once Pu'ar managed to wrestle the choice instrument of death outta my grip, she told me to go take a walk to cool off."

Bulma looked up at him in surprise, horror, question and concern. He breathed shakily and rested his head in his hands.

"Kami...I just couldn't take it anymore...The stress, the pressure and the depression...It's just too much...It literately crushes me. At first, I didn't even wanna come here. Too many painful memories. But then I got over it, and showed up. Y'know, now that I think of it, the memories aren't that bad. In fact, they're pretty good. I know that all sounded kinda cliché, but all I know is that this place is all pretty-like and smells damn good. It's real….relaxing." he explained.

A broad smile spread across his face, stretching the cross-shaped scar across his cheek. As Bulma gazed up into his eyes, she felt herself falling in love with him all over again. Yamcha draped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. She had to speak out...had to tell him that things just couldn't go on like this... But when she opened her mouth to tell him, she found it attached to his mouth. Heavy tongues were involved. His arms were around her waist, and dropping lower. She had her arms up around his neck. Bulma suddenly snapped back to reality and pulled away quickly.

"What the hell was that!?" she asked, blushing.

"I dunno. I was just wallowing in self-pity when you friggin' leaned up and snogged me. I know one thing though, I loved every second of it." Yamcha smirked.

"But...but where did it come from?" she murmured, totally ignoring him.

"Dunno. Left field, I guess."

Bulma was worried. Worried that Vegeta might find out. But she knew there was no way he could ever know, so why did she worry so much? Instantly, she knew the answer. She was afraid she would fall in love with Yamcha again. And that just couldn't happen. But as she gazed up into his eyes, she couldn't deny what she was feeling. Yamcha's eyes were dark like Vegeta's, but there was something different, Yamcha's had something Vegeta's lacked. Yamcha's eyes were full of depth, care and compassion; Vegeta's weren't. It was also in the way Yamcha kissed. The way he had just acted...usually, she would have just passed it off as a frivolous act, nothing but a testosterone-powered act of lust. But this theory wouldn't work for two reasons because a) she was the one who made the move and b) despite some groping, it was a truly passionate kiss. After all this time, Yamcha still loved her. And, truth be told, a part of her never stopped loving him.

Yamcha lowered his head until his forehead was pressed against Bulma's.

"You liked it, didn't you?" he whispered seductively.

"Yamcha...this has to stop. We can't..." Bulma protested.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it feels so...so...right." he murmured, pressing his lips against Bulma's.

Normally, Bulma would be compelled to slap him, hit him hard and make him hurt. Hit him, and make him hurt the way her heart did when he did this stupid stuff. But she didn't. Not this time. This time, it was different. There was certain feeling that was pressing in on her…

Yamcha's hands slid from Bulma's waist up to her chest. Precariously, he undid the zipper of her coat. Bulma shifted her arms and cast aside the jacket. She was feeling pretty hot anyways. But his hands didn't stop there. He let them rest on her breast awhile before going to work. His fingers fumbled clumsily with the buttons on the front of her dress. Bulma pulled her lips away hurriedly and placed her hands on Yamcha's.

"Yamcha..." she warned, giving him one of her 'looks.'

Yamcha's head drooped, humility stamped across his scarred visage. Bulma felt a pang of sympathy and hesitated to finish. 'Logical' Bulma was waving the red flags and crying out against this. But the younger romantic within, the one who had never ceased loving Yamcha, was screaming 'Go! Go!' She knew she shouldn't, knew that if Vegeta found out, he would kill them both...But she couldn't resist. Plus, it was only one time... And maybe that younger romantic part of her wanted Vegeta to find out. To make him pay for all he had done. To show him that she could find another if he didn't smarten up. This would teach him; it would teach him a lesson. She didn't need that cocky Oji. She had her ways.

"...be careful, or you'll break the buttons." she finished.

Yamcha smiled in utter relief. He decided not to get fancy, and finished unbuttoning her dress as Bulma worked her hands around his arms to tear free his jacket and shirt. She watched him as he unceremoniously and ungracefully kicked off his pants, and had to laugh. Yamcha glared at her playfully and with a quick movement, separated Bulma from her last shred of clothes. Yamcha gently moved Bulma to the smooth ground, pinning her effectively with his own body. Warm lips found her own as Yamcha pushed Bulma's legs apart with his knee. Bulma was thankful that her cries and whimpers were muffled by Yamcha, who hungrily swallowed the sounds before they reached the world. Yamcha used one hand to lift Bulma slightly, and the other to support himself so that he wouldn't crush the woman. Then he began to gently push inside, groaning out of the kiss at the sheer ecstasy. Bulma arched with a loud cry that echoed off of the walls, and no doubt throughout the city. But Bulma was BEYOND caring by now. She seeked release, and Yamcha gave it to her. The Z fighter was moving slowly, agonizingly slowly, as sweat dripped off his body.

"Kami..." he grunted, thrusting forward faster.

Bulma's body shook at the sudden increase of pace, but as her nails began to rake the soft, earthy loam, and the pressure in her stomach grew larger, she began to scream. Yamcha brought his mouth down to Bulma's collarbone, suckling the tender flesh almost violently.

"Yamcha!" she screamed in pleasure.

As always, Bulma's slender body was pushing Yamcha over the edge. The woman's pleasure-induced screams were echoing loudly throughout the entire garden enclosure. Yamcha pushed in again, penetrating Bulma's body deeper than ever. Yamcha sucked harder, nipping the skin lightly, moving his hand to rub Bulma's special weak point on the back of her neck. She yelped and then moaned, squirming a bit. Yamcha pinned her down tighter, halting the wriggling, but ceasing to stop the tickling. Several seconds later, both partners came with loud screams, Yamcha throwing his head backwards as Bulma's body arched. Yamcha collapsed on Bulma, smiling.

"Aishitte iru, koibito."

Bulma smiled back, eyes glazed with blissful content. "Aishitte iru, koibito."

For several minutes, they were silent, and then Yamcha spoke up.

"I wonder if all of West city really did hear that..."

"Kami-Sama..."

She wondered how long they had been at it...not much had happened, she thought. But then again, they were getting older... She could hear him panting as he lay flat on his back. She wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and sleep, but she needed to clean up first. She stood up and strode over to the small pond, which was filled with surprisingly clear water. She eased in and splashed it all over her body. She could hear him ease in silently and come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She felt the pressure of his still- rigid member behind her. She knew what he wanted but...she felt his hands slide down to her pussy. He began to rub, letting his fingers play with the soft locks of pubic hair.

"Oh Yamcha, cut it out." she muttered

"But don't it feel good?" he asked seductively.

"But...I'm tired."

"Yeah?" he grinned, a gleam in his eyes, "But I'm full of energy."

She smiled and turned her head back down. The old horndog...never gives up, she thought to herself.

Moving his hand back to Bulma's quivering body, he began to stroke her inner thighs, grinning as the action elicited a moan of pleasure from his partner. He slid his fingers down and eased his middle and fore fingers up and into her still-warm orifice. The water acted like a fine lubricant as he eased his two fingers in and out of her. Bulma's eyes snapped open when she felt Yamcha's fingers pushing into her. It didn't really hurt, but it was uncomfortable.

"Ano..." she whispered

"Shh…" he chided. "Just calm down, okay? It'll hurt if you tense up."

Bulma nodded. She felt Yamcha's fingers spreading inside her, making her entrance open further. He formed a small ball of energy on his fingertips and worked them deeper. A bright blush touched her cheeks, and she felt Yamcha's other hand sliding down her abdomen. She loved the feeling he gave her.  Then, the warmth of Yamcha's hand left her. Yamcha removed his fingers and brought his hands up to her breasts. He smirked as he spun her around, catching her confused glance.

"Nani?" she asked.

"I don't have anything else to use... So this will have to do."

He smiled softly, and Bulma knew just what part of him he was talking about. Yamcha pushed his still-firm member into her slowly, gritting his teeth at the sheer pleasure. She groaned and looked upwards, her mouth meeting his in a passionate kiss. Below him, Bulma moaned softly, not pulling away her mouth. She let her tongue explore every bit of his mouth, as did he. Yamcha let his tongue trace the roof of her mouth in the time being, stifling her pleasure groans.

Bulma sighed, pulling her mouth away. "Yamcha...stop."

"But you know you like it..."

"Yeah..."

Bulma couldn't resist...it had been so long. She suddenly felt him begin to get more vigorous. His member slipped in and out, working into a rapid rhythm. At that point, Bulma orgasmed. She saw it all: stars, fireworks, and blue flashes of light. It was as if her being was separated into atoms, only to come colliding back together in a rush of glory and song. It was too much leisure for one night, she figured. But she still had too hold out a bit more, for her partner hadn't came yet. No one should ever be denied such and experience as she had just felt. Then, thankfully, she felt his body go rigid as his grip tightened, and the warmth she had felt before came roaring back. She smiled, her eyes half shut. She collapsed lethargically against his chest, and allowed him to drag her out of the pool. They cuddled up together in the crook of their favorite tree, sans their clothes. Both their long, slender legs were intertwined, their fingers linked as well. Bulma lay curled up next to Yamcha as he stroked her face in an attempt to calm down. She sighed heavily. She knew how tense he felt. Right now, her heart was beating like a hummingbird's. She heard Yamcha exhale shakily.

"Kami, I wish I had a cigarette." he groaned.

"You mean you smoke?" Bulma asked, startled at his comment.

"Only when my hair's on fire." he replied casually.

Bulma glared at him. He was referring to an incident that had happened a few years ago. It had been just after she had Trunks, and tensions were high. Yamcha had shown up conveniently at a time when Vegeta was off training. Back then, Yamcha came around every so often just to see Bulma. She knew it hurt him and that he was trying to let go, so she usually didn't say anything when he showed up, but instead just prayed Vegeta would be gone until Yamcha left. Sometimes, she wasn't so lucky and had to break up fights before the saiyajin prince murdered Yamcha for being around his so-called 'mate.' But most often, with Vegeta's busy 'training' schedule, he was gone……

**Flashback (about time, huh?)**                                           

"God, I need a smoke..." Bulma groaned.

Her mother came plodding out of the kitchen, fluffing her already fluffed hair. She cocked her empty head to one side like a confused dog and stopped to watch.

"Here babe, have one of mine." Yamcha had said, brandishing a pack.

Bulma practically tore the cigarette out of Yamcha's hand.

"You can use my lighter, too." he offered, throwing a silver lighter at her.

Apparently, he had set the flame up on the high setting the last time he used it because the instant she lit up, the flame shot several centimeters into the air and set fire to her bangs. The fact she was wearing industrial-strength hairspray didn't help either. She yelped sharply and beat at her hair. Both Yamcha and her mother were laughing quite hard, choking and sputtering as they tried to regain breath. She managed to put out the fire, but her bangs were quite a bit shorter, not to mention singed and curled at the tips.

"Some people you are to have around during a fire!!" she screamed at them as she stomped out.     

She could hear the laughing let up a moment as Yamcha spoke.

"She smokes quite a bit, then." he remarked.

And they were off again.

**End Flashback**

It had become a universal inside joke.

Yamcha laughed out loud. "Haha! I'm just kidding. What I mean is, I only smoke after sex."

"Well, you must have the healthiest lungs around." she murmured, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she tried to shake off the joke. Yamcha laughed playfully and pulled her closer.

As Bulma let her fingers traverse Yamcha's muscled chest. She let her mind wander as well. She had found yet another difference between Yamcha and Vegeta. Vegeta was rough when he fucked her, and Yamcha...although he was a little anxious at first, he soon eased into a mellow rhythm. Vegeta... Vegeta!!

"Oh FUCK!!!!!" Bulma yelled, sitting straight up.

"Awww...Again? I'm kinda sleepy right now..." Yamcha yawned tiredly.

"Not that, retard! Quit thinking with your cock and use your head!" she barked.

Yamcha grinned stupidly. Bulma suddenly realized what she said.

"Oh for crying out loud! Get your mind out of the gutter!" she snapped.

"It's not a gutter...it's a trench." he sniffed indignantly, pulling on his shorts.

But Bulma didn't hear him. She was too busy searching for her clothes. She pulled on her pants and bra, throwing her blouse on loosely. As she searched about for her underwear, Yamcha pulled on his own pants.

"Where are they???" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Yamcha grinned, holding up a pair of lacy black thongs and stretching them out as he examined them.

"Nice." he remarked.

"Give me those!!!!" she barked, snatching them away and cramming them into her pocket.

Yamcha looked up at her casually.

"I don't see what you're so worried about." he said openly.

Bulma picked up her jacket and spun around.

"Vegeta...If Vegeta finds out about our little 'rendezvous,' he will kill you and then he will kill me. We'll both die!" she explained, a note of panic in her voice.

Yamcha seemed less than concerned.

"Unless Vegeta's a psychic, I doubt he'll find out. It's not like he'll notice anything. You're worrying too much. And you didn't seem to care too much when you were doing it….."

"I know…" she grumbled. "But what if I end up pregnant? I think he'll notice that."

"Maybe he'll just think it's just his doing."

"Not if the genotypic ratio of dominant alleles proves so. There's a good chance your dominant genes will surface, giving the infant a phenotypic appearance much like your own."

Yamcha stared at her blankly.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Oh, right. In simple English, he ain't gonna buy that one if the baby looks like you." she explained, her voice still hiding a bit of tension.

"Oh." he replied. "Well don't worry, babe. I mean, what're the odds? C'mon, Bulma. It's a shot in the dark." he explained, shrugging off the worry that was seeping in.

Bulma relaxed a little.

"Well...I guess so." she said as she pulled on her jacket. "I'm heading out. How about you?"

Yamcha sighed and leaned against a tree.

"Nope. I figured I'd stay a little longer. Not like I got that 'special someone' waiting for me at home." he smiled wryly.

"Well then...goodbye." she murmured. "And thanks."

*

Bulma's conscience ate away at her the whole walk home. It was just the one time, she told herself. But she couldn't soothe her soul. When she got married to Vegeta, she made a commitment, a commitment to stay true. Even if he was a total prick. She opened the door slowly, and stepped in quietly. She crept towards to her room, but before she could hit the stairs, Vegeta stepped out.

"Where have you been woman?" he demanded in a hushed whispered.

"Out walking." she squeaked. It was the only thing she could manage. She was at a loss for words. Honesty wasn't always the best policy. Vegeta looked at her like he was deciding if she was lying or not.

"You've been gone for two and half hours. That's an awful long time for a walk." he accused.

"So?? It was a long walk!" she barked, her voice raising.

"Quiet, you stupid woman! You'll wake up the kids." he snapped.

Two minutes. She had been home for two minutes and already she was fighting.

She took her time and launched her proposal.

"Vegeta...why don't we forget this conflict and settle it in bed." she whispered, putting on a irresistibly seductive air.

Vegeta turned away from her.

"You can't bribe me with sex." he said icily.

But apparently she could since five minutes later, Vegeta hauled her up the stairs into the bedroom for some 'action.'

It was the worst pain she had felt in a long time. She had been so focused on the great time she had with Yamcha, she forgot how rough and quick it ws with Vegeta. He was 'get on, get it done, get out' type. He cared only for his pleasure, not hers. She didn't matter. Not to mention he was pretty mad at her too. He practically had torn her clothes off, and Bulma was relieved when he missed the fact that her underwear had fallen out of her pants pocket instead of being on her body. He had pinned her down with his weight, his heavy body holding her in place. His breath was on her neck, and she turned away, closing her eyes.

"What's wrong, onna? Can't follow through with your bargain?" he said teasingly.

Truth was, she was too scared. But that didn't matter; Vegeta went on with his business anyway. Every thrust, every movement, was fast, misaimed, and searingly painful. She just closed her eyes and waited for it to end…

****

Cherry: *with bandages around her head* So that's the end of the chapter. I apologize to anyone and everyone who thinks I made Vegeta look like a jerk in this chapter....especially Vegeta himself. Furthermor--

Kuro: *Walks out of the staff lounge with a glass of sake in her hand* Oh, crap. You're still alive? And I thought Vegeta had killed you...*pouts*

Vegeta: *walks up behind Kuro* So didn't I, dammit.

Cherry:  *eyes go wide* Veggie-chan! Oh, I am soooo sorry.... I made you seem so mean and unloving....*dribbles on*

Vegeta: *whaps cherry over th head with the prybar* Let's go back to the lounge...

Kuro:  *shrugs* Okay...

:: And so they both walk off, leaving Cherry to die...again. Will our authoress survive? Let's hope so, since it is she writing the story......::