Title: Thunder And Roses

Author: Pale Orchid

Rating: R

Summary: Will Bulma ever find the guy for her?

Category: Romance/Slight Angst

Spoilers: Nope, nada, nothing.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the DragonBall Z characters or anything even remotely DBZ related. I'm just a poor Aussie girl with too much time on her hands.

Archiving : If you want it, send me a note and I'll say yeppers

Feedback: Ya know, it's all good, all the time. PaleOrchids@hotmail.com or press the little review button at the end of the page. Yep, that's the one. Go on, it won't bite. At least, not the first time. J

Authors Note: Warning, warning! Danger! This will contain a small lemon. Since it's the first one I've written, it's probably not that good, but I think it's tastefully done. Skip Chapter Two if you don't wanna read that type of thing.

Thunder And Roses

Chapter One: Champagne At Sunset.

The glittering rays of the sun shone brightly through the pale yellow curtains, bathing the room in a rainbow of warm colours. In the middle of a double bed she laid, the clothes she had worn here last night, still upon her person. Shades of orange and yellow seemed to focus in on her closed eyelids, creating shadows as the muscles twitched and started to open. She could feel the heat and light of the sun, streaming into her eyes, and brought her hand up to shelter them.

After staring at the lines in her palm until she was sure that her eyes had grown accustomed to the light, she took a glance around the room. It was sparsely decorated, but what furniture and items in the room spoke volumes about their price. Nothing but the best would be allowed in this room. Everything had to be made to perfection and nothing less would be acceptable.

Rolling off her side and onto her back, she felt something touch her arm. When she looked over she saw a small table, laden with breakfast food. In the top far corner stood a glass with a bow tied around it. Next to the table was a bottle of champagne. There was a note on it, which she sat up to read.

Sorry I couldn't be with you when you awoke.
Start without me. Enjoy the champagne.
I was saving it for last night's sunset, but sunrise is just as good.

It wasn't signed but it needn't have been. She knew it was from him. After all, it was his house that she was in. She remembered curling up on the couch, watching old movies and then waking up on the bed, so she assumed that she fell asleep and he had put her to bed. This was not good.

She grabbed the bottle around its slim neck and expertly popped the cork. She only wanted a little to steady herself. Since she didn't break the cork it could easily be placed back inside the bottle and he wouldn't have wasted something so expensive.

The bubbly liquid splashed into the bottom of the wine glass, before spiralling up the sides. When the glass was three quarters full she replaced the cork. She grabbed a strawberry off the bowl on the table and walked over to the open window. The pale curtains still billowed around, being buffeted by one wind current after the other. She stood between them, feeling the currents start to move her hair.

Kami, why did this have to be like this? He treated her exactly like she had always dreamed off as a child yet she felt guilty every time they were together. They had been together for so long, that it felt weird to even hear her own name without his following it, and vice versa. But it wasn't real.

They were both still holding onto the fairy tale. This was the first time that she had even spent longer than 3 hours in his house, preferring to keep away from spending long periods of time here. This was the most romantic thing he had done in years. Maybe he thought that she was finally coming around, that she was finally falling in love with him.

She bit viciously into the small red fruit. No, she wasn't falling in love with him. If anything, she was in love with the convenience of him. Always had been. Her parents had never bothered her to find someone, her friends had told her how happy she looked. But they couldn't see it. The self-hating, the fact that she loathed herself, for what she never felt. She had never loved him.

He had been a friend, but now, he was just a part of the furniture. He had given up asking when they were going to make love, for she always had the same answer. When it feels right. But until she found someone that she really loved, it was never going to feel right.

The champagne fizzled as she brought the glass to her lips; it tickled as it slid down her throat. She was going to have to get out of here. If he came back and she was still here, things would be said. Things that could never be taken back. Things that would change them forever.

She knew that he adored her, worshiped the very ground that she walked on. And, maybe, at first, in the very beginning, she might have possibly loved him but that was long gone now. The only thing she felt when she thought of him was how much it hurt to hate herself so much.

And yes, she knew that she sounded like the most selfish woman alive but, she reasoned internally, one couldn't love someone who one just doesn't want them.

Without leaving a note, Bulma put down the glass, grabbed her stuff and left. When Yamcha returned all that would be left was the half empty glass and the ruins of their relationship.

End Chapter One.