Declaimer: I do not own DBZ or their characters. This was inspired by the song Animal by: Neon Trees, I suggest you hear the song while you read this. This story is to fill the gap between the laps of the androids and how Bulma and Vegeta's relationship began. One-shot

Her shadow on the window reminded him of lingering old friends. It was just as annoying. She hadn't left since he started training in the capsule once he had recuperated. The best he could do was ignore her, but it was almost close to impossible. Another sleepless night, he already declared.

Vegeta doesn't know why but he expected her to leave in a couple of days but she keeps plastering herself in the background every chance she gets. If inevitable she would come with some refreshments, or snack, and if he wasn't so thirsty or hungry in the moment he would deny them. He wants to deny them. He doesn't want Bulma's presence to become a necessity. He repeats himself that every day, a hundred times at best.

One day, he almost forgotten she was there when in fact she wasn't. He spend the rest of what rested beating himself for noticing and letting all possibilities for her absence eat at his brain. Then the other restraining himself from asking her why. With time he learned to shut everything out.

On other occasions he could retire to his resting corners because he knew that until he was nested in a bed would she too. Why did he even bother? He didn't know, but just being reminded that she had spend maybe days without sleep was tiring to him so he would tell himself that he does what he does for him not for her.

He guessed that he felt he owed her for the time she took taking care of him while he reconstructed himself and even now when his healthy. He didn't like feeling at dept and especially when it was his first. They had told him that it felt just like guilt, eating at your insides. At first he didn't believe it but with this short time he was starting to doubt himself.

Here we go again, he told himself.

He ranked the gravity in the capsule higher and when he could still feel her shadow he pressed higher. The quimical in his brain felt aggravated as they pulse with the alarming change, heavy also and he wanted to run and hide. But he knew it was because she was watching, waiting for the right time to intervene. It was as if she wasn't satisfied.

He started his training, feeling the pressure as a release and punishment for ever thinking that what he feared was her not being satisfied. But what he was most afraid of was not coming out alive. Then he reminded himself that he wasn't afraid of anything.

It was night when he came to. His body and muscles were sore. He considered another round just to remind his body that he wasn't really tired. Though when he took a step towards the panel of the gravitation device he fell to one knee. He quickly stood up before any could see and turned off the device, deciding it was enough.

Before he knew it the door to the capsule was sliding open.

"Vegeta?"

"Quite down, woman?" he yelled at Bulma. Now he really wanted to run. He mentally kicked himself for ever composing the thought in the first place.

"You fell I saw you," she was already at his side inspecting him. "I told you not to push yourself, moron."

He recalled himself as a wild animal as he flinched at her nearing hands. "Don't touch me!"

She crossed her arms but keeping away as he wanted. "Then how will I know you're not hurt? Think, genius."

"I'm not hurt, you stupid woman. And why do you care anyways?"

"I…" Bulma blinked back, considering. No one has ever considered around him, just taking their time would mean their deaths. Her arms untangle and her voice sounded smooth like ice and it felt just like shards. Why wasn't she dead, yet? "Because someone has to."

Instead Vegeta felt something sink then he realized maybe he was the one dying. "Well, I don't need it, so leave me alone!" He growled and just the extortion made a small stab in his abdomen. He curled up like a wounded mutt.

"Oh, Vegeta." He felt her hand at his back.

He recoiled which made it worse. He was brought to his knees by a fable woman with meaningless words. How pathetic. "Leave me alone! Can't you understand, you stupid woman?"

Bulma was trying to pull him up, gently as if he was as breakable as glass itself. When did he become it? "Let's get you rested," she said instead.

He started thrashing but when it prove useless he gave up. "Why?" he attempted, the only thing he had going was making sense of things.

"What, Vegeta?" she coxed, softly as if he was an undermining kid. Ignorant and stupid. Maybe he was. Maybe she knew something that he didn't. In any case he wanted to know.

There were almost at the doors when he stopped, he knew that when they reached the house she would diminish the subject only concern in amending anything that might be broken. He clinged on the frame of the door, locating Bulma in front just in case he missed something.

"Why do you care?"

"Oh, Vegeta," she started.

"Why?" he shouted closing his eyes for a moment to endure the pain in brought to bring such force.

"Because someone has to." He opened his eyes and her were beforehand waiting for his. "You deserve someone that wants to."

He felt a sharp pain at his chest but he knew it had nothing to do with the extortion he recently went through. It was his pride. His pride and something else, he almost had the name for it when she interrupted with words, words that he was dreading and almost hoping to hear, "I want to."

All his fears were dismiss immediately as his biggest uncertainties chant inside his head over and over, "I won't be denied by you," to "what are you waiting for?" to "what are you even thinking?" His legs faltered by the voices and he fell forward.

"Vegeta," she said and that's when he realized he had closed his eyes and that he was leaning in her forehead.

He made a hush under his breath, pressing a finger to her lips. He needed to hear the voices, somehow they knew what to do. He lost every rational thought when they whisper, "more." She started to talk when he silenced her with his mouth, pressing it harder when she made a noise with her throat.

They're wrong, he told himself. But then again his hands were landing everywhere. He wanted her to react and he grew more agitated when she didn't do as the voices told her. "Take a bite. Ripe my heart off." It took no moment when he realized its himself and then pulled away disgusted with the realization.

Vegeta was trying very hard to hold his equilibrium as he adjusted to the blur in front of him. He was dizzy but he saw Bulma distress breathing air as if she were submerge underwater, her clothes plaster as if she woken up in that moment and the blood dripping from a gap lip.

"What are you even thinking?" the voice repeated one more time before it diminished. The only thing he heard after was the world and how it gone quite.

He withered to the capsule floor, feeling he could die then and there. What's his problem? He was acting like an irrational idiotic animal. He wanted to be killed like one in that moment. He was acting just like the humans in this planet.

Bulma kneeled in front of him, offering a hand as if the whole thing never happened. To him it made things worse. He wanted to howl like one of those dogs he heard of and more because she was treating him like one. Wounded and pathetic. "I think it's time for you to go to bed?" he couldn't utter anything not with everything that's happened. "Okay, Vegeta?"

He burst with her un-bothersome and persisting persona. He guessed what annoyed him even further was, even if he wouldn't, couldn't admit it, she really sounded like she cared.

"Don't you see, stupid woman?" he shouted, then swallowed when he noted that he was in no place to insult her with names. Well not now, so instead he continued more calmly. "I won't sleep tonight."

Vegata was almost surprise when he heard her laugh, pressing a finger to her gaped lip preventing it from bleeding further. "I won't either."

Then as if it were the most common thing they just stared at each other, ironic if he remembered this morning and every day before then. She retrieved the hand in her mouth to inspect his face, no wonder finding something to pour the stinging liquids she likes to use. Instead he found himself doing the same but with the one he provoked on her lip.

"I'm sorry," he heard himself say. It was so uncharacteristic that he pictured himself watching his unfold from another perfective. A perfective where he could laugh at the man losing his mind, but rather discovered himself feeling sorry for the poor fool.

She was just as baffled as him but the shock settled almost immediately replaced by a glint in her eyes. "It's okay. Someone had to."

As she slowly leaned forwards he stared to hear the voices again. He had decided to ignore them, figuring from recent experience that he should. That he should just back off and remember where he was and who he is and stop. But when he hears every sailable he's aware he can't. "More."

The end.

I guess the rest is history LOL