Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is the intellectual property of Akira Toriyama.

First Contact

Vegeta only came into the house to raid the refrigerator for food. He cursed his bad luck that he chose to walk through the living room on his way back out to his training pod. Bulma sat in one of the armchairs facing the television. The television was off, and she was crying into her hands. Through the sniffling and whimpering, he easily detected the words: "Yamcha…I hate him…why me?"

Great. Vegeta froze, then edged himself back a step. If I'm lucky, I can go back the way I came and…

Bulma burst out, "Vegeta, tell that creep to get off my property and never come back!"

Vegeta's shoulders sagged. Of course I can't. She's practically a Saiyan. How does she know when I'm standing here? "He's not here."

"Good! I want it to stay that way!" Having made that pronouncement, Bulma went back to crying. Noisily.

Vegeta stifled a sigh. He crossed the room to the open window. There was no use hiding from her. Not that I care, but… "Why are you letting him make you cry? You're stronger than this."

Bulma was instantly on her feet, hands clenched.

Here it comes, he thought. The torrential rebuttal.

"You're right, Vegeta! I can't let that loser get to me. Why am I crying over him?"

Vegeta was temporarily speechless. Then he grinned. "That's right. If ki were willpower you'd be a hundred times stronger than that jackass."

Bulma planted her hands on her hips. "Ha! You know it!"

Vegeta dropped his gaze from her and leaned against the wall, glancing out the window instead. This sudden intimacy embarrassed him. He'd meant to say his advice and leave. He'd thought she wouldn't listen anyway, so he wouldn't be committed to staying and listen to her cry. "What did he do this time?" he murmured as if he couldn't care less, trying to put brakes on the enthusiasm of this discussion.

Bulma crossed her arms and gripped her shoulders, evidently to keep from breaking everything in the room. Her tiny ki blazed with rage. "Yamcha only ruined a perfectly good date by asking me if it were true that I've been sleeping around!"

Vegeta glanced at her despite himself, his teeth set on edge with an answering pang of annoyance. He knew he had an opportunity to sabotage the discussion and get away. All he had to do was make a biting comment like, Why? Because you throw yourself at every man you see? That would blow this new friendliness up and reset her hatred of him back to normal.

But he couldn't do it. Yamcha's vulgarities awoke too much distaste in him. "Tell me you have more pride than to stand that indignity."

Bulma let go of her shoulders with a triumphant smirk. "You're right. I do. I slapped him across the face and drove myself home."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. He liked to think he observed everything that went on in the Capsule Corp headquarters. "Drove yourself? I thought you went in that idiot's car."

Bulma lifted her chin. "I did. It was his car I took home. Serves him right for accusing me of cheating. The only person who cheats in this relationship is him! Besides, what does he need a car for anyway? He can fly!"

Vegeta burst out laughing. "Let me guess. He's too much of a wimp to come here and pick up his car."

Bulma looked away. "Oh, he might come around in a week or so, when he thinks I've stopped being angry enough to slap him again. But he's wrong. I'm not going to get less angry this time. This is the final straw."

Vegeta nodded and looked away. "Damn straight. If someone impugned my honor like that I'd kill them."

Bulma tilted her head, and with that ridiculous pile of curls on her head, the motion made Vegeta glance at her again. She looked as if something had occurred to her for the first time.

Vegeta prepared to fly out through the open window. Now she's wondering why the one she's been talking to is me. I better not overstay my welcome.

"You know, Vegeta, you're right. When I think back across my life…I think I've been giving myself away too easily."

Vegeta froze.

Bulma turned and looked at him. "When I met Yamcha, I was sixteen. What sixteen-year-old can make good decisions? I don't regret the adventures I had, but dating Yamcha is separate from that. I thought we were so in love, that destiny had brought us together because we met while searching for the dragon balls, and both our wishes were to have a sweetheart."

"Hmph. A large assumption to make," Vegeta muttered.

Bulma looked far from happy. "I know. I can see that now. It really wasn't anything more than coincidence. But place yourself in the shoes of a sixteen-year-old. Doesn't it seem to make sense?" She sighed and ran a hand over her forehead. "Now it's been almost sixteen years since, and I never wised up. What've I been doing with my life? I'm thirty-one years old, and I've spent all of my life since my parents allowed me to date chasing after one man – and he's not even good marriage material. We never get past holding hands, but he sleeps around with other women and makes excuses why he can't marry me."

Vegeta frowned and brought his gaze to bear on her. She'd come this far on her own, with only a tiny push. He felt he ought to reward her with another tiny push, no matter how blunt. On the plus side, if she grew angry at him, he could go train and forget about her. "It sounds like he's just not that attracted to you."

Bulma stared at him.

Vegeta smirked. "Incredible, I know. You are acutely aware of your own physical attractiveness. But something about it doesn't work for that loser. And instead of telling you so, which would be more honesty than I believe he possesses, he's making you believe his immaturities get in the way of a proper relationship. A man doesn't sleep around on a woman unless he wants to sleep around. You've got a lot of money, haven't you? An incredible amount of wealth to go with your incredible beauty. I overheard the others saying Yamcha started life as some sort of bandit. Is that true? If so, I suggest that his tastes never actually changed. He loves money, but he doesn't love you."

Bulma's arms fell limply to her sides. "You know, you're right. I think I always knew that Yamcha was more interested in my money than he was interested in me. When I was sixteen, I didn't care. I was desperate to have a boyfriend, and I wanted to do better than the ultra-rich boys I went to school with. None of them had even a quarter of my good looks. I couldn't stand the idea of someone with sausage fingers touching me. Or someone who breathed through their mouth and wore glasses and played video games all day."

Vegeta gave a shudder. "You had standards." He turned away and gauged the distance from the window to his training pod. He'd reached the end of his social endurance. "You simply didn't have enough of them. It's not too late. You haven't married the sap." He pushed with his ki and propelled himself to the door of his training pod with a blast of displaced air.

"Thanks, Vegeta!" Bulma called after him.

He pretended not to hear and entered the pod, closing the door behind him.