A picture frame went sailing past Vegeta's head, clipping his ear and smashing into the bedroom wall behind him.

"You big dumb brute!" Bulma fumed holding the shredded remains of her once vast and glamorous collection of clothes. She was already quickly surveying the top of her dresser for more hard objects to throw. Since there was nothing left but a tube of mascara and some lipsticks, Bulma resigned herself to dropping the useless heap of fabric and banging her fists on Vegeta's chest.

He usually let the Woman throw her little fits until she wore herself out and he could simply toss her over his shoulder and place her somewhere out of his way with little resistance, but he could already tell this was going to be a long one.

"Maybe on Planet Vegeta," she screamed "they used closets to store training equipment and firewood, but on Earth we use them for holding clothes! And I vaguely remember telling you more than once that civilized people do not shoot orbs of flaming power inside the house!"

She reiterated her last point with a rough shove. Just as she was yanking her arms back from her attack, Vegeta grasped both of her wrists. Bulma let out an exasperated gasp and struggled to free herself from his iron hold. Vegeta pulled her just barely an inch away from his face, their noses almost touching. He felt the heat emanating from his woman in her rage. He gently touched his lips to hers.

"I'm sorry." She felt him whisper.

All of the fight seemed to drain right out of her. Vegeta slowly released her arms as he felt her body relax and fall against his. Bulma sighed.

"Well this means only one thing."

"And what is that?" He replied hesitantly.

"You're going shopping with me tomorrow to replace all of the clothes you destroyed."

Vegeta threw Bulma over his shoulder and she squealed with laughter as he attempted to put her inside of the half destroyed, smoldering closet.