Hi everyone! I know, what a...hiatus? A lot has happened since I last updated a story for you all! I know I have lost a lot of loyal fans and yet some of you are familiar faces! I had written this story about almost 2 years ago...I am afraid my writing is a bit rusty and I am my worst critic. With that being said; please be patient with me and please be kind in your reviews. I don't want criticism because to me this is a fun hobby; never a chore. I am glad to have found my new muse and I am grateful for the ideas that I've been able to come up with. Hopefully for those that have stuck around you; this will be a treat for you and for those new;please enjoy the story. It is because of you all reminding me over the years that my writing is precious...Thank you...all of you...Thank You!

Chapter 1: If Today Was Your Last Day

"How long do I have?" Bulma Briefs sat at the doctor's office examination room. She hated hospitals; especially sitting in their paper gowns in a cold room. She hated sitting on the leather plush examination table that only felt cold against her almost bare skin. The only thing covering her nude from was the paper and her panties. But even though she hated the doctors and the fake smiles of the nurses or even this bloody cold room it meant nothing to her now; it couldn't compare to how cold and distant her fragile heart felt in this very moment. She felt she was in a tunnel and the doctor was on the other end as he tried to explain in this very one way conversation about her condition. He used very fancy and overly long medical terms but it simply came down to he had no idea what she has and that there was no cure. Bulma Briefs was only 24 years old and today she found out she was going to die.

She had ignored the signs. At first it was something minor like little hair loss and she found no appetite to eat. As time went out she lost energy to move, she couldn't hold down much food anymore, and sometimes she would get dizzy spells. The headaches were getting worse. It was until she noticed blood in her coughing that she couldn't put off the dreaded hospital visit any longer. Unfortunately, by this time, it was far too late. The damage was done. Now she sat on the cold examination table, practically nude, and listen to the doctor regrettably telling her that she had little under a year left to live. There was no chance of a cure. She felt numb as the doctor lightly shook her to bring her back. "Miss. Briefs, I am so sorry that this has happened." he gently told her. "Hey, don't beat yourself up doc. Things like this happen all the time I'm sure. Is there anything else?" She tried to sound cheerful but it came off as quiet.

"We can do tests and keep tr-" he was suddenly cut off by Bulma's hand held up. "No, that is alright Doc. I know I have had enough." she wouldn't let the doctor waste another word on the matter. She wanted to get out of this place as fast as she could. "But we-" the doctor persisted but was once again silenced by her glare. "I said no thank you. I'll have my check up to see how far along this...virus is progressing until the very end. Until then, I'm going home." Bulma firmly told him as she hopped off the table. "Now scoot. I want to get home." Bulma went to gather her clothes. The doctor could only look at her sadly. "If you change your mind, please come in. This time, please don't hesitate Miss Briefs, the sooner we can do research, the sooner we might find a cure. There is always hope." The doctor started to open the door to leave but the next remark from the heiress stopped him. "Please, hope is just a cruel joke to someone like me. You can leave now." Bulma didn't even look at the door as she softly spoke. Sadness and acceptance was intertwined with her tone. He gently laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and took his leave. There was no more words of comfort that could help her. He left her to dress and she walked out after checking out. She drove home in silence as everything began to weigh in on her.

When she arrived home, the family cars were missing from the parking garage. Dr. Briefs, her father, was more than likely at their company running meetings until late like his normal every day schedule; where as Mrs. Briefs, her mother, was probably out shopping for gods know what. They were oblivious to the fact that their daughter, their only child, was going to die in little under a year from the doctor's estimate. There was no cure and it seemed that the symptoms were only to worsen as her body was shutting down. Bulma shook her head as she didn't want to think about the subject any longer. She grabbed her purse from her expensive car and headed to the backdoor of the house that would lead into the kitchen. She choose this way because it would be less likely she would run into anyone. She just wanted to get to her bed and lock away her secret for a little bit longer. By the time she had gotten up the steps she felt a little bit winded and breathed a little heavier. Already she couldn't help but once again be reminded how very real this reality was going to be to her. She opened the door to the kitchen and leaned against the door frame to steady herself. "Hmph, you need to stop eating fatty shit you human's make and maybe you wouldn't be so fat and out of shape Woman." came an egotistical and arrogant voice from the refrigerator. The dark and mysterious Prince Vegeta of all Saiyans was making himself a sandwich as Bulma came out of breath into the kitchen.

He glared at her presence, obviously not welcoming her in her own home. "My point exactly. You just being out of breath proves I am right." he shot one of his many 'charming' remarks at her. Already forgetting her situation and the spark of a fight as a distraction from her inevitable secret caught an appealing eye. Bulma rolled her eyes and couldn't decide which comment she would throw back of her own. The dark Saiyan Prince was known as Vegeta. He had been taken into their home at her parent's hospitality. Ever since he had arrived he had done nothing but eat, breath, live and train to push himself to beyond the breaking point of trying to become a Super Saiyan. He had been given the best accommodations by her family but he rarely used anything they gave him. The Prince seemed more of the 'take what you need' type and was rarely around. Unfortunately, when he was around he always appeared to have a chip on his shoulder and a means to fight whether verbally or physically. Mostly he spent his days fighting with himself or if he needed someone to 'socialize' with, he would seek Bulma. In which case, he would throw unnecessarily rude remarks her way to start the arguments. If he had come to find he did need anything; whether it be to increase the upgrades to his gravity training room or enhancing his fighter bots, or to even dinner; he would go through Bulma. Usually he used her as a way of getting what he needed and she played the role of messenger between him and her parents.

So the dark Prince stood, arms crossed and smugly waiting for the fight of verbal cues and insults to begin. Bulma sat her purse down by the counter as she hopped up onto it and crossed her legs as she sat. She pulled out a granola bar from the cabinet behind her and began to nibble on it. Her body language and attitude screamed 'i gives no fucks'. "Keep it up chuckles. You'll miss me when I'm gone." she returned the smug look with one of her own. Vegeta stopped himself from letting a chuckle escape at the thought of him ever missing the loud mouth woman who would constantly yell and never let him forget whose home he resided in. "Miss you? Don't give yourself too much credit Woman. I'll eat Frieza's underwear the day I don't hear that annoying voice of yours." He leaned against the refrigerator smirking. "Well you won't have to wait too long Geta, I'll be gone in less than a year give or take." Bulma took a bite of the bar and Vegeta glared at the little pet name she so graciously given him.

"Really Woman? Why is that? Going to move out for once or are you trying to make something work unlike all the inventions you fail at creating?" he grinned as he knew he hit the first nerve. IF there was one thing that got under Bulma's skin, it was to insult her livelihood. She was a scientist and an inventor. Her creations are her lives work and for someone, especially the Prince, to insult it really struck a nerve. However, this insult didn't even faze her. "look who is calling the spaceship black? At least I can invent half the shit you break. And if you must know the truth, I am going to die." she spoke nonchalant. Vegeta almost dropped his sandwich he was eating; not sure if he had even heard her right. He quickly saved it and set it down as he glared at her dangerously. "That isn't a funny joke." "Whose is joking? I was told this a little under an hour ago by my doctor." Bulma dusted her hands off as she finished the bar and threw out the wrapper. The atmosphere that was once playful took a dark turn for the tense. It was heavy, quiet, and Vegeta's body spasmed in a way to prevent himself from destroying an appliance. "This is some joke of yours? Woman, this isn't funny. You had best not be lying to me!" his tone was dark and angry but Bulma ignored him "I wish...just don't tell anyone else. I figured I'd tell you since you don't give..."She stopped in mid sentence and took in the look Vegeta was giving her. He looked so violently angry. "Know what, it is a joke." she quickly tried to play it off laughing.

Bulma hopped down from the counter and went to grab her bag and retreated to her room. Vegeta grabbed her arm as she walked past him. He was in disbelief as how calm she was being. How could she be this way? "Don't lie to me. You can pull your brave shit with your parents or in front of those fools you call friends, but don't just walk away from me pretending that you are fine with this! It is insulting to me!" he snarled and gripped her arm tighter. Bulma winced at the pain but didn't meet his gaze. "Does it matter? Does it even matter to you? I'd get that underwear because you will be eating it soon enough. So don't cause this to be an issue Vegeta. It's better my family doesn't find out." Bulma tried to jerk her hand away. "This isn't some joke! Your family deserves a right to know that their only child is going to die!" he growled in protest as he took his free arm and slammed his fist on one of the counters causing a small crater to appear. Bulma winced at the pain and jumped from the sudden hit to her family's kitchen counter. "Says the man who killed millions. Since when did you care? This soft, self-righteousness doesn't suit you Prince Vegeta!" Bulma glared at the ground as she delivered the final blow. Vegeta didn't budge an inch, nor did he let up his grip. "Stop changing the what you know is the right thing to do." he growled through gritted teeth. "Acting like Goku now are you?" She did it. She hit the most sensitive nerve he had.

He let her go and blasted the table to a million pieces. "I AM NOTHIGN LIKE THAT FOOL! NEVER COMPARE ME TO THAT IDIOT EVER AGAIN!" he roared. Bulma quickly grabbed her purse and went to rush out of the kitchen but Vegeta blocked her way. "You will tell them Woman! I will not let you take the coward's way out. " he quickly calmed himself and returned to focus on her. "This is none of your business! I'm letting them have this year before it is gone from them. I don't want them spending it worried or counting down the days I may or may not have left. She looked at the wall and found a focal point to divert her attention away from him. He held her shoulders and he began to register how small she was and how much weight she had truly lost and hid so well. "What is it you have?" he finally asked after several moments of them standing together like this. "What is the point Vegeta? Stop being thick headed and let things lie. All I know is there is no cure and I came in contact with it in my travels in space." she finally allowed herself to meet his piercing gaze. He didn't move on the grips of her arms and just stared at her for more information..

It felt so unnerving to see flickers of emotions barely break through his icy walls. "Fine." was all he said. He was cold and distant as he released her. Bulma held herself. She began to feel the bruises from but knew better than to say anything. It was blatantly obvious that the Prince was very unsettling in this icy state. Bulma bent down beside her to pick up her purse and without a word walked around the Prince to go to her room. She left him to his thoughts in the gloomy and broken kitchen.