Loneliness

by Terendel

Goku tries to playmatchmaker between Vegeta and Bulma. But will the Saiyan prince submit?

Loneliness
By Soulwindow

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story are mine, and I'm getting no profit other than the pleasure of writing them.


Bulma stood in front of her mirror, humming softly to herself as she brushed her hair for bed. She shook it out around her shoulders, remembering all the times Yamcha had run his hands through it, letting it fall over his chest in lavender waves as they made love. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered last night, telling him finally that it was over. Though she knew it was the right decision, her heart still ached with loneliness.

She shook her head, needing to remind herself of her resolve. She'd loved him for a long time, but they just weren't right for each other. She needed someone as strong as she, someone who would match her in every way. Her thoughts drifted like the brush through her hair. "Seventy-eight, seventy-nine. Someone like..."

Suddenly, she gasped and turned, hearing something out on the front lawn. She frowned. Something? Or someone? She walked to the window and looked out.

Bulma lowered her brush in confusion as she saw Vegeta silhouetted in the compound lights. His head was lowered, arms clenched tightly at his side. She thought she saw his shoulders shaking, but she couldn't be certain in the dim light.

She stood watching him, watching the misery roll off of him in almost palpable waves. She couldn't remember ever seeing him like this. She'd seen him angry. She'd seen him in physical pain. Once, just once, she'd even seen him laugh, a real laugh, not his usual arrogant, sarcastic laugh. But she'd never seen anything like this. Before she realized it, she had dropped the brush and was running outside. To him.

She opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. Her bare feet hit the damp grass, and she lifted her foot once, shaking it like a cat. Then she determinedly moved over the lawn to the motionless Saiyan.

He didn't acknowledge her approach, didn't even seem to notice her presence. As she came closer, she realized she must have been mistaken about his shoulders. Now he was completely still. She could see the veins in his neck standing out, and his hands were clenched so tightly she was almost surprised that his fingernails weren't protruding through his palms.

"Vegeta?" she asked softly.

He said nothing, but his posture shifted slightly, and she knew he was aware of her.

"What's wrong?"

Silence.

Bulma stepped closer, near enough to feel the heat welling from his body. It felt good in the chill air, and she stopped shivering, only then realizing how cold she was. Tentatively, she reached out a hand and touched one shoulder. She gasped at the tension pulsing under her hand. He didn't move. She squeezed gently and smiled when she felt the muscles relax infinitesimally. Any moment, she expected him to burst into his usual harsh tirade, but he remained silent.

Suddenly, he raised his head, staring off into the night.

"What do you see?"

She didn't really expect an answer, so she was surprised when he spoke. One word, harsh, as if forced through a throat too tight to let anything else out.

"Nothing."

Bulma frowned, hearing more in his tone than just a dismissal. Said that way, "nothing" became a burden too horrible to bear. She shuddered and gripped his shoulder more tightly.

Suddenly, he dropped to the ground, his legs crossed and his head in his hands. Without realizing it, she found herself on the ground beside him, her hand never leaving his shoulder. She gasped slightly at the dampness soaking through her thin robe. Again, she became aware of the heat rising from his body. She took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling his scent, heavy with exertion. He must have just come from training in the gravity room.

Now she could feel his shoulders shaking under her hand, and she moved behind him, sitting with her slight legs enveloping his heavy, muscular thighs. The hardness of him sent a thrill through her. She pushed it away, not ready to deal with her own feelings when she was so close to such pain.

Bulma nodded her head slightly. She didn't know what was wrong, but she recognized pain too intense to handle. She thought she'd felt such pain last night, with Yamcha. Now she knew that what she had felt was in another universe compared with what she sat with tonight.

Greatly daring, she gripped his shoulder with her other hand and began to gently massage the tension away. She felt the shaking stop and the muscles relax a bit. She continued, her mind empty of any thought but easing his pain. Her own loneliness and despair were forgotten at the moment. She couldn't believe he was letting her touch him so intimately. Any other time she had as much as accidentally brushed against him, he had pulled away, violently and usually with a sharp comment. But tonight he was letting her massage his shoulders. His body still thrummed with tension under her hands, but somehow she knew he was deriving some comfort from her presence.

After a few moments, she stopped the massage, and just sat beside him, drinking in his warmth, hands on his shoulders, trying with her presence to offer whatever reassurance she could. She didn't know how much it was helping, but she couldn't have left him at that moment for any reason.

She never knew how long they sat there. He never really relaxed, but his shoulders slowly quieted under her hands, until the tension merely hummed instead of thrummed. She felt as if she could sit there forever, hearing the gentle sound of the crickets, the distant low hoot of a hunting owl and the gentle rustle of the wind through the trees. Never had she felt so calm, so close to another person.

Suddenly he stood up, knocking her backwards into the cold grass. Without a word, he walked to the house.

Bulma picked herself up off the lawn and watched him open the door and step inside. He paused, one foot on the doorjamb, silhouetted in the dim light streaming from the kitchen. Her senses had been so finely-tuned during her recent almost-meditation that she heard his intake of breath, even across the yard. She expected him to say something, but he didn't. He merely shook his head and continued into the house. Through the front window, she watched him slowly climb the stairs to the bedroom.

She took a deep breath, not realizing she'd been holding it, stood up and followed him.


The next morning Bulma yawned her way to the kitchen for breakfast. Her mother was already there, fixing pancakes. From the amount on the serving platter, Bulma knew her mother was planning to feed Vegeta as well. Suddenly, she felt odd about seeing the Saiyan. After last night, she wasn't certain of his reaction. She decided to grab a bowel of cereal and eat it in her room.

She went to the cupboard to grab a bowl, but her mother stopped her. "Bulma, wouldn't you rather have some warm pancakes?"

"Um, well..."

At that moment, Vegeta entered the kitchen. Bulma quickly looked at the counter, only watching him from the corner of his eye. He said nothing, merely grabbing a huge stack of pancakes and sitting down. She watched him pour most of a bottle of syrup over his breakfast. Her mother handed her a plate, and Bulma sighed to herself. No graceful way out now.

Resigned, she sat at the table. Her mother put a fresh bottle of syrup in front of her. She poured considerably less on her pancakes and began to eat, still watching Vegeta from under lowered eyelids. He glanced up briefly from his food and noticed her attention. He scowled, and she hastily looked down, concentrating only on her food.

He ate quickly and neatly, as always. Mrs. Briefs tried to engage him in small talk, but he answered only with grunts or one-word answers. After a few minutes, Bulma couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He had gone at least five minutes without saying anything insulting. Something really must be wrong.

As soon as he finished his breakfast, he left the kitchen. Mrs. Briefs watched him go with a small frown of puzzlement. "Bulma, honey. Is something wrong with Vegeta?"

Bulma looked up quickly from her plate. "Hmm? Why do you ask?"

"Well, he was so quiet. And he didn't get seconds like he always does." She glanced at the sink. "And he put his dishes in the sink. He never does that."

Bulma realized that her mother was right. The self-styled prince always left his dishes on the table, having announced once before that cleaning up was below him. Not that it seemed to matter to Mrs. Briefs. Bulma wasn't sure why, but her mother seemed to genuinely enjoy doing things for Vegeta.

She realized her mother was still looking at her expectantly. "Um. Well, actually, I think there is something wrong. But I don't know what."

"Something to do with last night?"

Bulma's eyes widened. "What about last night?"

"Well, I saw you out on the lawn with him. You were just in your robe."

Bulma blushed furiously. "Umm...mom...nothing happened. We were just sitting there."

"Oh."

Bulma thought that her mother sounded almost disappointed. Her mother wanted something to happen between her and Vegeta? Not likely! Sure she'd felt sorry for him last night, but that didn't mean that she wanted him. Unbidden, she flashed to the memory of his heat between her legs. She shook her head, banishing that thought to the farthest reaches of her memory, exactly where it belonged.

"So, what did happen?" her mother asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Bulma sighed. Obviously her mother wasn't going to let this one go. "I don't know. I heard something outside. When I glanced out my window, there he was. He looked...I don't know...strange, so I went outside. I asked him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. After a while he looked up suddenly. I asked him what he saw, and he said 'Nothing.' I don't know what he meant by that, but I'm sure it meant something."

Mrs. Briefs frowned in thought. Bulma ate a pancake while she waited for her mother to figure out whatever it was that she was trying to figure out. After a moment, the older woman flipped another pancake onto the serving plate and said, "He must be very lonely."

Bulma shook her head, not following that one. "Why do you say that? He lives with us. He spars with Goku and Gohan all the time. He's surrounded by people."

Mrs. Briefs sighed. "Yes, I know, but look at how much time he spends alone in the gravity room. He's there alone more than he's with anyone." She shook her head. "But that's not quite what I meant. He must be lonely because he's the only one of his kind left. That must be a terrible burden for someone so young."

Bulma thought that only her mother could consider Vegeta young. "But he's not the only Saiyan. There's Goku."

Mrs. Briefs turned from her pancakes. "Bulma, honey. Goku is a dear. You know that. But to say that he's anything like Vegeta is a terrible overstatement."

Bulma realized her mother was right. Goku might be Saiyan by blood, but he was an Earthling by temperament. "Okay, you've got a point. But I never got the impression that Vegeta cared enough about anything other than himself to feel lonely."

"If that's what you've been thinking then you haven't been paying attention!" Mrs. Briefs turned back to her cooking, pouring three more pancakes into the pan.

Bulma blinked. Her mild-mannered mother never spoke like that. What had gotten into her? Did she actually like her arrogant houseguest? She wasn't sure what to say next. "Umm. Mom. I think you're making more food than anyone will eat."

"Vegeta still might want seconds."

Bulma decided this was a good time to make her escape.


Vegeta didn't appear for lunch, which surprised Bulma. Like Goku, Vegeta rarely missed a meal, and he always ate more than the rest of the Briefs family put together. She often thought it was a good thing that Capsule Corp was enormously rich. The grocery bill to feed a single Saiyan was enough to bankrupt some small countries. She never could figure out how Chi-Chi managed to afford to feed two of them.

When he didn't appear for dinner, she began to be seriously concerned. She had been hearing the loud hum from the gravity room all day, so she knew he was still in the compound. After she finished her meal, she assembled a tray to take to him. She blushed at the approving smile her mother gave her as she left the kitchen.

At the gravity room, she put down the tray to knock. After a moment, she heard the machinery power down, and she opened the door.

Vegeta hung in the air, looking down at her. "Why do you interrupt me, woman?"

Bulma felt her face flush, but she actually wasn't in the mood to argue tonight. She'd been working on a thorny programming problem all day, and she was mentally exhausted. "I thought you might like something to eat since you skipped lunch."

He slowly lowered himself to the floor. Bulma never tired of watching him fly. Just once, she wished she could fly. She'd flown with Yamcha, but it couldn't be the same as doing it herself, under her own power. She didn't even notice that the thought of Yamcha brought no pain.

He picked up the tray, sat down on the floor and began to eat. Since he didn't order her to leave, she sat down to keep him company. He scowled at her once from under lowered eyebrows but said nothing. They sat in silence, broken only by the low mechanical hum behind them and the occasional click of Vegeta's chopsticks against his plate.

Surprisingly, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. As with last night, Bulma had the distinct impression that he didn't mind having her there, not that he would have admitted it if she'd asked. Perhaps her mother was right. Perhaps he was lonely. But she didn't know how to help him. She could hardly invent a full-blooded Saiyan with full mental capacity out of thin air.

As soon as Vegeta finished, he levitated back to the ceiling and looked at her expectantly.

"What?"

He frowned. "I suggest you leave. 100Gs would be...damaging...to you." His voice had only a trace of his usual sarcasm, as if he was trying but his heart wasn't in it.

"Oh, yeah. See you later."

"Not if I can avoid it."

Hmm. That sounded more like the Vegeta she knew. She picked up the tray and left.


That night she couldn't sleep. Even though the air was cool, she felt hot, and she tossed and turned, sending most of the covers to the floor.

Finally, about 3:00 in the morning, she sat bolt upright in bed, realizing that she was waiting for Vegeta to come to bed. He always walked by her room on the way to the shower somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00. Until that moment, she hadn't consciously thought about noticing his movements, or caring about it. Angrily, she told herself to stop being a silly clunk. She wasn't in love with him or anything. He could come to bed or not as he chose, and she had no business listening for his footsteps in the hall. With that thought, she pulled the covers over her head and practically willed herself to sleep.


The next morning she awoke with a furious headache. She groaned, knowing this headache meant she hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep. She settled back under the blanket and tried to drift back off for another few hours, but the birds singing cheerily outside her window wouldn't let her.

Finally, she gave up and staggered out of bed. It seemed she was doing that a lot lately. Damn Vegeta and his blasted moods. They were his own problem. Why was she making them hers?

She pulled on some clothes and stepped into the hallway. Something made her turn to go by Vegeta's room and peer in. The bed was made. Vegeta didn't put away his own dishes, and he certainly didn't make his own bed. Her mother never did the bedrooms this early, so it looked as if Vegeta hadn't come in at all last night. A nameless emotion that was remarkably like fear passed through her, and she hurried to the gravity room. She couldn't remember him ever training all night before.

When she arrived, the machinery was still running. She glanced in through the window and saw Vegeta lying on the floor. Now she put a name to the emotion flooding her. It was definitely fear. She hit the override by the door and hurried in, slipping twice on the slick floor in her hurry to get to his side.

She leaned over him anxiously. No visible injuries. He was sprawled on his stomach, legs every which way and his head pillowed on one arm. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She shook him gently, but he didn't move. Panicking, knowing nothing at all of Saiyan physiology, she did the only thing she could think of.

She called Goku.


Goku arrived quickly, and Bulma threw herself at his broad chest as soon as he appeared in the doorway to the gravity room. "Goku. What's wrong with him?"

He hugged her back, patting her shoulder. "I don't know Bulma. Why don't you let me take a look at him."

She stepped back. "Oh, yeah. I guess that would help."

The larger Saiyan stepped over to kneel over Vegeta. The look on his face was concentration. After a moment, he stood up, smiling. "He'll be fine. He's just really wiped out. What happened?"

Bulma sat down in a heap of relief. "Oh, thank Kami. I had no idea, but it looked bad."

Goku came over and settled beside her. "So what happened?" he repeated.

Bulma sighed. "Well, he was really weird two nights ago. He was standing in the courtyard, and I knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't talk about it. Then he didn't eat lunch yesterday. I brought him some dinner, but then he didn't come to bed last night." She slowed her rush of words. Goku wasn't always the most perceptive, but she suspected even he could see she was really worried about Vegeta. She didn't want him asking any awkward questions before she had a chance to think through the answers.

She resumed, more in control. "Anyway, I sort of noticed that he hadn't come to bed last night." She tried to ignore the way Goku raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn't ask, so she continued. "I came out here to see if he was...I mean if he wanted breakfast, and he was lying on the floor like that."

Goku nodded. "Uh huh. He probably trained all night. You say he skipped lunch?"

Bulma nodded.

"Yeah, he just overdid it. He and I can go without stuffing ourselves if we have to, but not if we're training that hard." He frowned. "Wonder why he trained all night? That's not like him" He looked at Bulma, his eyes disturbingly intense, not at all like his usual goofy, happy-go-lucky expression. "Do you know what's eating him?"

Bulma sighed. "Maybe."

Goku waited a moment. "Well, are you going to tell me?"

"My mother thinks he's lonely."

Goku shot her a so-what's-new look. "Yeah, I know. But this sounds like more than that."

Bulma blushed. Was she the one who didn't get it? "You knew?" She hated it when he was more perceptive than he looked.

"Of course. He's the only Saiyan left. I don't count." He said it matter of factly, no rancor in his voice.

Bulma shook her head. Her long-time friend seemed to take that awfully well. She certainly wouldn't want to "not count." What exactly was it between the two remaining Saiyans? "I guess I don't know, then. Maybe it's bothering him more than usual?" She couldn't believe she was saying that. She'd never known it bothered him, and now she was saying that it was bothering him more than usual?

Goku sighed, glancing over at Vegeta's still form. "It's got to be more than that. He's had plenty of time to get over being alone."

Bulma shook her head, remembering what her mother had said. "I don't know. I'm not sure that's the sort of thing you just 'get over.'" She watched Vegeta's chest slowly rise and fall. "He must really be tired if we can sit here like this talking without waking him up."

Goku nodded. "Yeah, he'll probably sleep the day through." He grinned. "And then he'll wake up starving." His expression sobered. "But unless he worked through whatever's bothering him, he'll just do it over again."

Bulma sighed. "Maybe you could talk to him."

Goku blushed. "Uh, Bulma. You've known me a long time. That kind of talking isn't exactly my strong point."

"Well, it's not exactly mine either," Bulma snapped. "Knowing him, he'll say something insulting, and the next thing you know, we'll be screaming at each other."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Bulma shot him a look. He didn't have to agree with her so readily. But Goku was staring at Vegeta and didn't notice the venom she was aiming at him. She gave it up after a moment. It wasn't like it ever made any impression on him anyway.

Goku's expression suddenly brightened. "Well, I may not be any good at talking, but I can listen."

Bulma scowled. "Well, to listen, you'll first have to get him talking, and that's not easy."

Goku shook his head. "Oh, no. It's easy to get him to talk. What's hard is getting him to talk about something you want to listen to. And I've got an idea for how to do that."

Goku with an idea. That was a new one. Bulma had the uncomfortable feeling that she'd been underestimating him all these years. "What's the idea?"

Goku shook his head. "No, you'd tell me it's stupid. But I think it'll work. Could you pack us a lunch? A big lunch?"

Bulma nodded before she had a chance to think about it. "Sure. Mom loves to cook for Vegeta."

"Good." He glanced over at the sprawled Saiyan and wrinkled his nose. "And how about a change of clothes."

Bulma wanted to snap that Goku didn't smell all that great after a work-out either, but then she stopped. He was looking at her with that uncomfortably intense look again, sort of like he knew what she was going to say. Trying to change the subject, she asked, "Is there anything else I can do to help?" Whoops. Not doing a good job at all of not showing interest in Vegeta.

"Yeah. When I get back, you can talk to him. I think I can get him ready for that."

"Me?" Bulma squawked. "Why do I need to talk to him?"

Goku glanced away before speaking. As he turned his head, Bulma could see red rising from his neck all the way to the top of his head. When he finally looked back, the red was still there, and it deepened as he spoke. "Uh, Bulma. Have you ever noticed how Vegeta looks at you?"

Bulma scowled. "Of course. Do you mean when he looks at me with disgust? Or perhaps when he looks at me with disdain?"

Goku shook his head. "No, not those. The other look."

"Which one would that be?"

Goku squirmed. "Umm. The one like Chi-Chi gives me when she...uhh...you know...wants something out of me."

Bulma rolled her eyes. She had no idea what the silly Saiyan was talking about. "What something would that be?"

Goku blushed even darker. Bulma didn't think that would have been possible at this point, but apparently she was wrong. What could be making him so uncomfortable?

Suddenly it hit her. Goku was saying that Vegeta looked at her like...he...wanted...her?

Goku nodded, apparently seeing the realization in her face. "Yeah, he looks at you like that sometimes. When he doesn't think anyone is noticing." He smiled proudly. "But I notice a lot more than people think."

Bulma shook her head. Boy was that true. She'd never noticed. She frowned. Or had she? There was that one time... No, it couldn't be. He couldn't be interested in her. She studiously ignored the warmth that flooded through her at the thought. "Well, Goku, I can't imagine that you're right about that, but I'll talk to him when you get back if you think it would help."

"I think it'll help."

Bulma stood up. "Let me go get that lunch and some fresh clothes for him." She walked out of the room mechanically, her thoughts in a whirl.

When she returned, Goku was sitting at Vegeta's side, watching his face. "Is he okay?"

Goku jumped slightly as she spoke. "Oh, yeah. He's fine. I was just thinking."

She handed him a heavy knapsack. "There's enough food in there to feed a small army, or two Saiyans," she said with a grin. Goku grinned back at her. "And a fresh change of clothes. I even threw in a bar of soap, just in case there's someplace for him to take a bath."

Goku nodded. "Yep, I'd already planned that. He'll spar better if he's clean and fed."

Bulma's mouth dropped. "You're taking him out to spar? That's your brilliant idea to get him to talk."

Goku faced dropped a bit, but he forced a smile. "See, I told you you'd say it was stupid."

Bulma mentally kicked herself. Goku didn't deserve that.

The Saiyan went on. "It's not the sparring, exactly. It's where we're going to spar."

She smiled reassuringly. "Okay, I'm sure you know what you're doing."

His face brightened. "Thanks, Bulma. It's a good plan. It'll work. See you when we get back."

He shouldered the knapsack, grunting a bit at the weight. "Gee, maybe I should bring Gohan. I think you packed enough to feed three." Then he leaned down and gently picked up Vegeta, cradling the prince in his massive arms. He adjusted the weight and nodded. "Good thing he's smaller than I am. It'd be awkward otherwise."

He started for the door, Bulma watching him leave. Just as he was about to pass through the entrance, he turned and looked back. "Uh, Bulma."

"What?"

"You know what I said about the way Vegeta looks at you?"

Bulma blushed. Was he ever going to let that go? "Yeah. What of it."

He swallowed hard. "Well, Bulma. Sometimes you look at him the same way."

And with that, he was gone.


Vegeta woke slowly, which was unusual. He was accustomed to instantly springing awake. The muzzy feeling in his head was...uncomfortable. He didn't quite feel like opening his eyes just yet, so he lay there, using his ears and other senses to figure out where he was.

A low wind whistled nearby, and he felt dirt under his palms. Okay, he was outside. Why was he sleeping outside? He tried to remember what had happened before he went to sleep. He frowned, finally remembering practicing in the gravity room. That stupid woman had interrupted his rhythm with food, and it had taken hours to get back to the emptiness of thought he had been trying to attain. He recalled growing extremely tired, and he supposed he must have passed out on the floor. He vaguely remembered losing control of his flight and crashing. But that didn't explain what he was doing outside.

Nothing for it. He was going to have to open his eyes. The throbbing in his temples told him this wasn't going to be pleasant, but he was a Saiyan prince. Pain has no meaning.

Except when it does.

He blinked quickly in the bright light, wincing and shrinking back slightly. When he bumped into something hard and unyielding, he opened his eyes all the way and looked up at the top of a very short tree.

Suddenly a familiar voice went off right by his head. "Good. You're finally awake. Now we can eat."

No, this was more than he could take. A pounding headache, unknown surroundings and the Saiyan fool. Even a prince could be forgiven for regretting this.

"Kakarott. Where the hell are we?" Reluctantly, he focused his eyes on the other Saiyan. As usual, Kakarott had that idiotic, happy look on his face. One would think he was actually pleased to see Vegeta awaken. No amount of insulting ever seemed to change the other's delight with the world and everyone in it.

"Look around. What do you think?"

Vegeta sat up, suppressing a groan as the movement made his head pound. It seemed to remind his stomach of its empty state as well. He blinked, trying to focus his eyes. When he could really see his surroundings, he couldn't suppress a gasp.

The landscape looked like Vejiitasei! The tall cliffs had the same rugged, desolate beauty as his homeland. His eyes darted back and forth. There was little vegetation, and what was present looked tough and well able to survive with little water. The rising sun glanced off the striated red and orange sandstone buttes. He heard the cry of a hunting hawk, and it stirred memories of similar hunting calls from his youth, when he was training in the wilderness with Nappa.

Stunned, his eyes sought his companion. Goku smiled at him, not his usual smile, but a soft, knowing expression. "You like it, don't you?"

"How did you know?"

Goku shrugged. "I didn't really know, but I suspected. I found this place years ago, and I come here to train. Sometimes I bring Gohan, and he agrees that something about this place pulls deep at him. It looks like Vejiitasei, doesn't it?"

Vegeta realized that his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it with an audible snap. Quickly, he pulled himself together. He couldn't have the fool understand how much of an impression this place had made on him. "Yes, there is a slight resemblance."

Goku chuckled deep in his chest, and Vegeta knew he hadn't fooled the other Saiyan in the slightest. "You must be starving."

Vegeta's stomach picked that moment to growl loudly. He scowled. "Perhaps a bit."

"There's food in the knapsack by your head."

Vegeta turned and noticed the knapsack for this first time. His sensitive nose detected the smell of food, and his stomach growled again, more loudly this time.

"There's also a change of clothes." Goku pointed a few feet off to their right. "And there's a spring behind that rock cleft. I thought you might appreciate a bath. Soap's in with the clothes."

"You seem to have thought of everything, Kakarott."

"Well, Bulma's the one who packed it."

Vegeta hummphed as he reached for the knapsack. As promised, there was food and plenty of it. Vegeta tore in with a vengeance. After a moment, he heard Goku clearing his throat. "What is it, baka?"

Goku's voice was plaintive. "I've been waiting a long time for you to wake up. Some of that was supposed to be mine."

Vegeta tossed the knapsack in the direction of Goku's voice, not even glancing up from his meal. As expected, Goku didn't let it hit the ground.

"How long did I sleep?" Vegeta asked when his stomach was approaching full.

When Goku didn't answer immediately, Vegeta looked at him in irritation. Goku hastily chewed and swallowed and then answered. "Sorry, you slept all the way through yesterday. I was starving!"

"Why didn't you eat?"

Goku blushed. "Ahh. I didn't think of it. I just waited."

Vegeta snorted. "Typical." He was surprised to hear he had slept that long. He must have been training harder than he had realized. Empty mind could do that, though. He stretched, the throbbing in his head receding with a full stomach. "Where did you say that spring was?"

"Ower tere," Goku pointed and said around a mouthful of food.

"Don't speak with your mouth full," Vegeta said as he gathered up fresh clothes and the bar of soup. Undeniably considerate of Kakarott. Suddenly he stopped. Why had Kakarott brought him here anyway?

"Since you've been training so hard, I thought you might want to spar."

Vegeta whirled. He knew he hadn't spoken out loud. How had the other Saiyan known what he'd been thinking? Goku looked at him with guileless eyes, still eating. Vegeta shook his head. He must have spoken out loud. Mustn't he?

He spoke, keeping his voice even with an effort. "I suppose. Might as well show you what real training can do. Not like that half-baked sparring you do with your half-breed son." There, that sounded right. Kakarott would never notice that something was wrong.

"Sure. I can hardly wait. I'll be finished eating by the time you're clean."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. The other Saiyan seemed to think of little other than food and fighting.

He went in search of the spring. He was mentally gearing himself for the plunge into ice-cold water when he caught a whiff of sulfur. Trust the fool to forget to mention that it was a hot spring. Turning to be sure Kakarott was out of sight, Vegeta hastened his pace to his bath. He could use a soak before battle.

The spring was small but very hot, almost too hot even for a Saiyan. Vegeta lowered himself in with a heartfelt groan of pleasure. He quickly soaped up, rinsed off and then settled back to relax, letting his mind go blank. The hot water, combined with the achingly familiar surroundings put him in an unusually good mood, and he caught himself almost drifting off. Wanting to stay alert for the upcoming battle, he kept his eyes open and glanced around at the countryside. He remembered training sessions with Nappa. After a particularly good session, the older Saiyan would take him hunting. Bringing down his prey with nothing but his bare hands was a cherished memory.

Suddenly though, his thoughts turned. He began to notice differences between the surrounding countryside and his memories of home. Like everything else on this planet, even this barren landscape was lush compared to Vejiitasei. Memories of Nappa led inevitably to thinking about how alone he was. The last of his race other than the fool Kakarott and his half-breed son. Damn Frieza! And damn Kakarott and his son for denying him the pleasure of vengeance! He, Vegeta, should have avenged his race, not some idiot with no memory of his proud heritage.

But even his usually litany on how he had been wronged by Kakarott couldn't dispel the other, more disturbing thoughts. Thoughts about how he didn't have to be alone. How there was someone who had come to him in his pain and offered only comfort, not ridicule. Vegeta colored at the thought of that night, standing alone in dark, wanting to cry his pain to the sky but not wanting to attract the attention. Why hadn't he flown somewhere else, where he could have been alone with his dark thoughts?

But then she had come. He had expected her to laugh at his weakness, make some sort of cutting comment. But she had only asked what was wrong. Of course he could never have told her. A part of him had wished she would leave. But another part was glad that she stayed, her hands on him, trying to sooth his tortured soul by soothing the tension in his muscles.

Almost had he weakened and spoken of his pain, but he was a prince, and a prince did not speak of his troubles to a lesser being. But, oh, how he had wanted to speak of it to someone. He sighed. And a pitifully weak part of him still did want to speak.

Miserable again, all the good of his bath and his delight in seeing someplace so reminiscent of home banished, he slowly began to climb out of the spring. Might as well fight Kakarott. At least in battle he could forget his troubles.

Just as he emerged from the pool, a familiar head popped out from behind a rock. "Are you okay? I thought you'd gone to sleep or something."

"Kakarott! Do you mind!"

Goku immediately blushed and started looking everywhere except at his naked companion. "Umm. Sorry. I'll...uhh...give you a couple more minutes." And he vanished so quickly Vegeta wasn't certain he hadn't used Instant Transmission.

"Hmph," he grumbled to himself. "Learned modesty in addition to other earthling foolishness." For Vegeta hadn't minded Goku seeing him naked. He just hadn't yet mentally prepared himself for Kakarott's unfailing cheerfulness.

He quickly dressed and stepped out from behind the rocks. Goku was standing several feet away, determinedly facing away from Vegeta.

"I'm dressed. It's safe to turn around," Vegeta said in dry amusement.

Goku turned around, red still evident on his face. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I didn't know you'd be getting out at just that moment."

Vegeta scowled. "I don't share your modesty. I just wasn't ready for your idiocy. Now, since you brought me all this way to spar, let's get to it. I could be training."

Goku's face brightened. "Sure Vegeta. I'm ready."


Several minutes into the sparring session, Goku knew he was going to have to revise his strategy. He didn't know what was wrong, but Vegeta's heart obviously wasn't in it. Goku was pretty sure that Chi-Chi could have blocked some of the prince's blows, and once Goku strained several muscles trying to pull a blow that Vegeta totally missed blocking.

Goku pulled back and levitated several feet above Vegeta. The other Saiyan let him withdraw and hung limply in the air. Goku descended slowly. "Come on, Vegeta. What's up? This isn't like you."

Vegeta stiffened and attempted a fighting stance, but Goku shook his head. Gohan had looked more ready when he was five than the Saiyan prince did right now. "Uh uh, Vegeta. I'd knock you into next week if I attacked you now."

The proud shoulders slumped. Goku's heart sank. It must be worse than he and Bulma had thought. He'd been sure that last statement would goad Vegeta into action. He lowered himself to the ground. "Come on down Vegeta. Talk to me." He settled down, cross-legged, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Vegeta drifted down and stood by the edge of the cliff, staring out across the valley below. If it had been anyone else, Goku would have stood by him, maybe with a hand on his shoulder, but he knew the proud prince would reject any contact, so he waited patiently for the other man to talk.

After a moment, Vegeta spoke. Goku had to strain his exceptional hearing to make out what the other man was saying. "You wouldn't understand, Kakarott."

"Try me."

"There's no one who would understand. I am the last of my kind."

Goku knew what Vegeta's response would be, but it had to be said. "I'm Saiyan also."

Vegeta whirled, his face a mask of rage. "You are a brain-damaged weak half-excuse for a Saiyan."

Goku winced inwardly, carefully keeping his reaction off of his face and body. It could have been worse. "That may be, but I am still stronger than you." He hated to say it. The insane rivalry that Vegeta felt was entirely one-sided, but Goku knew that he needed to goad Vegeta into letting out his bottled up emotions. And the overly proud prince would only do it if he were angry enough.

Vegeta launched himself through the air at his opponent. Goku had been expecting it and stepped easily to one side, powering up to Super Saiyan as he moved. He indulged himself in a brief thrill at the power flowing through him before readying himself for Vegeta's next move.

The prince changed direction immediately after his initial charge and flew back, straight into his powered-up opponent. Goku didn't even bother to block. He just let his increased power absorb the attack. Vegeta flew back several feet before pulling up. He hung in the air, fists balled in rage, his ebon eyes crackling.

Before Vegeta could speak, Goku said, "I suppose I really should fight on your level, but I don't want to fight you at all. Spar, yes. Battle, no. I have nothing to prove to you."

The proud Saiyan's shoulders slumped, and he lowered himself slowly to the ground. "No, I suppose you don't. Again, you prove your superior power. The first of our kind in one thousand years to reach the level of a Super Saiyan."

Goku dropped out of Super Saiyan. As always, he felt a brief pang of loss as he let go of the power. "Vegeta. I don't want to prove anything to you. I just want you to tell me what is wrong."

Vegeta sighed and moved to a nearby rocky outcropping. He leaned against the rock, folding his arms across his chest in his customary pose. Goku stifled a smile at the action, but some of his amusement must have crept into his eyes because Vegeta shot the taller Saiyan his most choice scowl. "Well, if you won't give it up, I suppose I might as well talk to you. Perhaps then we can have a decent sparring session."

Trust Vegeta to turn an offer of help into a royal privilege.

Vegeta straightened and stepped closer to the edge of the cliff face. As he spoke, he faced across the valley. "Damn it, Kakarott, what do I really have to live for? Endless training to get strong enough to beat you? Standing on the sidelines watching the antics of your fool friends? I was bred to be the ultimate Saiyan warrior, and now there are no more Saiyans, except you, and you constantly prove yourself stronger than me. So I have even failed at that."

Goku wanted to step forward. Vegeta's voice held no hope, no animation. As close as the other was standing to the edge, Goku wasn't sure he'd step off and plummet to the ground below. He thought he could catch the prince, but saving Vegeta wasn't what the other Saiyan wanted right now. He knew that words were the only way to get through, and, as he had told Bulma, he was painfully aware that this wasn't his strength. He was much better at fighting than talking.

Vegeta waited with uncommon patience, not stepping back, but not moving forward either. Finally, Goku nodded and spoke. "Training is important. Not to become stronger than me. But to become as strong as you can, for yourself. You are a mighty warrior. I am proud to fight at your side."

Vegeta hmphed and started to speak, but Goku raised a hand to stop him. "No, Vegeta. I'm not done yet."

Amazingly, Vegeta closed his mouth and listened. Goku's heart rose. Perhaps he was getting through, at least for the moment. "But there is more to life than training." He grinned slightly. "Chi-Chi would never believe I said that."

Vegeta chuckled. "No, she'd remind you that there is also eating."

Goku blushed. "Well, yeah. There is always that." But then his expression sobered, and the flush slowly left his cheeks. "But that's not what I meant. Training is only important if you are training for something." His expression grew far away. Did he want to go the next step?

Vegeta cleared his throat impatiently. "On with it, Kakarott."

Goku swallowed. Well, he'd gone this far. Might as well go the rest of the way. He looked directly at Vegeta, his gaze penetrating the ebon stare as far as he dared. Deep in the lightless depths, he saw amusement, retreating anger, and...something else. Goku nodded. Yes, Vegeta was ready. "Or if you are training for someone. Someone who means enough to you that you want to be able to protect them from all harm."

Vegeta glanced away for a moment. When he looked back, his expression was unreadable, all trace of that elusive something gone. Goku's heart sank again.

"And you think there is someone for me to train for?"

Goku's heart skipped a beat. Perhaps he was getting through. "No."

Vegeta's eyes widened, and he started to speak, but Goku cut him off. "I don't think there is someone. I know there is."

Vegeta said nothing for a moment. Goku watched a range of emotion flow over the prince's face, all of them too quick to read. Finally he spoke, his voice almost too soft for Goku to hear. "And do you think that I mean that much to this 'someone?'"

Goku nodded. "I believe so, yes." He took a step toward his proud companion, aching to offer the warm comfort of touch, knowing he could merely offer the cold comfort of words. "Vegeta. Give her a chance to tell you herself."

Vegeta turned away, his shoulders stiff. Goku would have given anything to know exactly what was going through his proud prince's thoughts at that moment. Suddenly, Vegeta turned and lifted into the air. "Fight me, Kakarott. Fight me, damn it!"

Goku understood what his companion was seeking. Both of them dealt better with the physical expression of emotion. He grinned and shot into the air, coming down hard in a flying kick. Vegeta danced aside, sweeping Goku's legs and turning momentum against him. Goku flew toward the ground, pulling up at the last moment to face a ki-blast coming straight at his face. Quickly, he put up his arms and blocked. Before he could regroup to launch an attack of his own, Vegeta swooped out of the air like a stooping falcon, driving the taller Saiyan into the ground with his legs. Goku turned his mad plummet into a handspring and shot back at his opponent.

They traded blows for several minutes, both smiling even as they pounded each other. The thrill of battle joined their souls in a way that only Saiyans could understand.

Finally, they mutually decided to end their contest, and both pulled back, panting slightly from their exertions. Goku grinned. "That was more like it!"

"Hmph, Kakarott. I held back. Didn't want to overwhelm your pitiful defenses."

Goku laughed out loud and pointed at a nearby crumbled butte. "Pitiful? Who was it who leveled that, anyway?"

Vegeta rubbed his shoulder and scowled.

Goku's expression sobered, and he took several steps forward, not quite touching his fighting companion. "Will you do it, Vegeta? What I mentioned earlier?"

Vegeta turned away. He directed his answer, not at Goku, but at the familiar landscape. "I suppose I might." He whirled and pointed a commanding finger at the other. "But I will do it in my own time and in my own way, so don't even think about bugging me about it."

Goku backed away, raising his hands in mock-surrender. "I wouldn't consider it, my prince."

Vegeta's eyes widened at that statement. Goku held his gaze but didn't say anything.

Vegeta cleared his throat. "I'll hold you to that."

Goku smiled softly. "I would expect nothing less from you."

Vegeta turned away, starting to gather up his clothes, tossing them casually in the knapsack.

Goku waited a long moment, wanting to ask one more thing, but not sure he dared. Finally, he sighed. If he couldn't ask now, there might not be another time. "Vegeta." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

The other Saiyan turned, a quizzical look on his face. "What is it Kakarott?" His voice too, was soft, as soft as Goku had ever heard.

"Can we be friends?" Goku had long considered the other to be his friend, but even he was not foolish enough to realize that the feeling was not reciprocated. He and Vegeta were sometimes adversaries, sometime fighting partners, but never friends.

Vegeta looked away, again gazing out over the country that so reminded them of their native planet. Finally he shook his head. He spoke, but without his usual rancor. "Not now, Kakarott."

Goku nodded and turned, preparing to leave. It was no more than he had expected. But, oh, how he had hoped.

However, Vegeta's next words stopped him. "Not now. But maybe someday. If I can find something that means more to me than my pride. Then. Then, perhaps we can be friends."

Goku smiled. "I'll do anything in my power to see that day come."

And he lifted off, turning in the direction of his home. Just as he started to move, the wind brought a few more words to his ears.

"I know you will."

Goku headed home, his heart lighter. He'd done what he could do. The rest was up to Bulma.


Bulma lay in her bedroom, hands behind her head. What was taking Goku and Vegeta so long? They'd been gone since yesterday morning. Her active imagination conjured up myriad threats that could have delayed them. As her scenarios got more and more ridiculous (the return of Frieza and the addition of six equally powerful siblings), she finally had to admit to herself that she cared. Not just about Goku, but about Vegeta as well. The image of Vegeta lying on the floor of the gravity chamber, still and silent, flashed through her head too many times for her to ignore it.

But why did it have to be Goku who had noticed and finally made her realize her attraction to the Saiyan prince? Then she had to admit that her mother had made a couple of references in that direction herself. But then Bulma wasn't sure her mother's observations really counted. She'd seen her mother hang on Vegeta more than once. Good thing she was hopelessly in love with the doctor.

At that moment the phone rang. She grabbed it, hoping it was Chi-Chi. She had asked Chi-Chi to call as soon as Goku got home.

It wasn't Chi-Chi. Instead it was a familiar male voice. "Hi, Bulma!"

"Goku! Where have you been? It's been almost two days!"

Goku's response sounded hurt. "But Bulma, I told you that Vegeta'd likely sleep the day through."

Belatedly, Bulma remembered him saying just that. She blushed, grateful he couldn't see it. "Oh. I'm sorry, Goku. I guess I forgot."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he asked, "Worried, were you?"

"Of course I was worried! I mean, you fly off with Vegeta, and he was unconscious, and then you're gone for more than a day..." She trailed off, suddenly aware of what she'd said. Damn! She'd just barely admitted to herself that she was attracted to Vegeta, and now she was practically blurting it out to Goku.

"I guess you thought about what I said."

Oh well. No use denying it. "Yes. I thought about it."

Goku's voice rang with satisfaction. "Good. That was the one part I was worried about."

"Which part would that be?"

"The part where I told him that someone who cared was waiting for him."

"You told him what?" Bulma practically screamed the question.

"Hey, Bulma, careful! You almost deafened me." Bulma chuckled softly in spite of herself, envisioning Goku holding the phone away from his ear.

Her amusement calmed her down immediately, and she decided she needed the whole story before killing him. "Okay, Goku. Let's try this again. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

"Well, okay. But do you promise not to yell again?"

She sighed. "Yes, I promise not to yell again."

"Okay." He sounded very pleased with himself as he began to talk. "Well, it was like this. He slept for a long time, and I was getting real hungry. I was hoping he'd wake up soon so I could eat..."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Could you move past the part about being hungry and eating and get to the part about Vegeta?"

"But Bulma, I didn't eat. I waited until he woke up, and it was about time 'cause I thought I was going to starve."

Bulma decided it was hopeless. Goku would tell the story his own way and in his own time.

"Anyway, he finally woke up, and we ate, and he went off to take a bath." Suddenly his voice sounded very embarrassed. "Well, his bath was taking really long, and I started to wonder if something had happened, and I went to look for him, and he was just getting out, and he wasn't wearing anything!"

Bulma found herself wishing that she could have seen that.

"Well, he yelled at me, and I went away until he was dressed. Then we started to spar, and it was like he wasn't really trying. I told him that Chi-Chi probably could have beaten him, he was fighting so bad, and I thought that would get him mad, but it didn't. Well he said something about being alone, the last of his kind, just like you said, Bulma." His voice grew serious, his usual goofiness gone. "I knew then that I had to get him mad. He wasn't going to talk to me unless he got so mad that he lost control, so I reminded him that I was stronger than he was. He tried to attack me, and I went Super Saiyan, to remind him that he couldn't."

Bulma gasped. She hadn't thought Goku had it in him.

"Didn't think I'd do that, did you?"

Bulma shivered, shaken again by the eerie feeling that Goku knew more than he let on. "No, I didn't think you would. It doesn't seem like you."

Goku's voice became sad. "It's not like me. I hated to do it, but it was the only way to get through to him."

"What'd he do?"

"He finally talked to me. He asked what was the point of training. He sounded really depressed, like he didn't think he had anything to live for. He was standing so close to the edge of the cliff that I thought he'd go over before I could do anything about it."

Bulma shuddered, having had no idea how close she'd come to losing him, almost before she knew that she cared. "He...didn't...did he?"

"No." Goku's answer came almost before she finished speaking. "No, he didn't. I had to think really hard about what to say. I finally told him that there was more to life than training to get better than me. I told him that he needed to train because he cared enough about someone to do anything to protect them."

Bulma closed her eyes. She could hear the anguish in his voice and could imagine how hard it had been for Goku to say all that.

"He asked me if I thought there was someone for him to train for, and I told him that there was." He paused for a long time and Bulma wasn't sure he was going to say anything else. Finally, he said, "And then he asked if there was someone who cared that much about him. I said that I thought there was." His voice turned pleading. "Don't make a liar out of me, Bulma. Tell me that I told him the truth."

Bulma was surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth, so firm and confident. "You didn't lie to him, Goku. It took you to show me, but I do care for him."

She could hear Goku's relieved sigh. "Good. That was the only part I was a little bit worried about."

From the tone of voice, he knew he'd been more than a "little" worried. "What happened then?"

His voice perked up. "We sparred."

She should have guessed. Trust two men to have a meaningful conversation and then follow it up with a fight.

"It was a really good fight. You should have seen it!"

"Uh, yeah. Whatever, Goku."

"Is he back yet?"

Bulma shook her head, realizing as she did it that he couldn't see the gesture. "No, I don't think so."

"Hmm. Wonder where he is? I came straight here. He should have been there by now."

Bulma felt a small thrill of anxiety rush through her, but she managed to keep it out of her voice. "I'm sure he's fine. He'll probably get here any minute."

"Yeah, well I called 'cause I didn't want him to sense me there. He made me promise not to bug him about what he was going to do about you."

"What!" Bulma yelled.

"Bulma! You promised you wouldn't yell!"

She lowered her voice fractionally. "What do you mean about not bugging him about me!"

"He said he'd probably do something about caring about you, but he said he'd do it in his own time, and he didn't want me asking about it."

Bulma stood up and tapped her foot on the floor. She'd see about "his own time." She wasn't going to decide that she was interested and then wait for the arrogant prince to get around to doing something about it in his own time.

"Uh, Bulma. Did I just put my foot in it?"

He sounded so plaintive, and she couldn't ignore it. She sighed. "No, Goku. I'll give him long enough that he can't figure out you said something to me."

"Good! I'd hate for him to get so mad at me that he won't spar any more."

Trust Goku to have his priorities in order.

"Gotta go. Thanks for calling Chi-Chi and telling her that I'd be gone a while." He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. "She's not too mad, but I still think I'd better go see her." Bulma could almost see him pouting with his next sentence. "But I think she said something about wanting me to help with the laundry. I hate laundry."

Bulma chuckled. "Go help her out. The last person you want really mad at you is your wife."

"No kidding! The last time she got really mad at me, she locked me out of the house and wouldn't cook me dinner or anything! Talk to you later." His voice softened for a moment. "Let me know how everything goes, okay?"

"Sure, Goku. We'll talk later. Bye."

She hung up and lay back down on her bed. It sounded as if Goku had laid the groundwork. The next move was up to her. Or Vegeta.

But where was Vegeta?

A few minutes later she heard footsteps going down the hall. She sat up, listening carefully. They turned into the room a few doors down. Soon after, she heard the shower start. She smiled. That must be him. He was safe! And he'd come back.


A week later she'd managed to forget how worried she'd been about him. Now she just wanted to kill him. Slowly.

It was like nothing had changed. He didn't skip meals, but he barely spoke to her. He spoke to her mother more, and Bulma knew that he despised her mother. Mrs. Briefs didn't make it easier by hanging on him, when she wasn't fixing him all his favorite foods. And if he didn't come to the kitchen right away at meal times, she coaxed Bulma into taking his dinner to him.

And the worst part was that she couldn't help herself. She so desperately wanted to be in his presence that she took him his meals and sat with him while he ate. He never paid any attention to her company. He just ate quickly and left all the dishes for her.

She was just about ready to give him a piece of her mind. She hadn't said anything rude to him the entire week, and all the pent-up emotions were on the verge of bursting out.

That night, she again stood in front of her mirror, this time yanking her brush through her hair like she wanted to pull it all out by the roots. It hurt, but she was too angry to even notice. She had thought up six particularly cutting remarks and was deciding in which order she wanted to use them when she felt the breeze move in the open window behind her.

A quiet voice spoke. "If you keep that up, you won't have any hair left."

She dropped the brush and slowly turned. The voice sounded sort of like Vegeta, but it couldn't be.

It was. He was floating in front of her open window. He was wearing the same skin-tight bodysuit that he always wore, but Bulma realized she'd never really appreciated before how it clung to his perfect body, revealing both everything and nothing.

He drifted in the window and gently alighted. Taking a few steps forward, he smoothly retrieved the brush and said, "Allow me."

Stunned, she did nothing as he began to move the brush gently through her hair. With each stroke, he followed with his other hand, smoothing as he brushed. He stood directly behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body, but not close enough that he was touching her with anything but his hand and the brush. Mesmerized, she felt something she hadn't known was frozen within her begin to melt.

She lost track of his strokes, but after a few minutes he put down the brush and stepped in front of her, his hand outstretched. "Come with me." It was almost, but not quite a request. His eyes shone in the dim light of her bedside table.

"Where?" she heard her voice ask, as if from a distance.

"You'll see when we get there."

"How?" She could barely get the word out, so transfixed she was by the ebon depths of his eyes. She couldn't quite identify the emotion darting through them, but she was certain she'd never before seen their like.

"I'll fly you."

She flashed back to the moment in the gravity room, as she had watched him drift down, wishing that she could fly. Somehow she knew that flying with Vegeta wouldn't be like flying with Yamcha.

She put her hand in his. The beginnings of a smile played at the corners of his lips as he grasped her small hand. She realized that she'd never touched his bare skin. She'd had no idea that a hand which had fought so many could be so smooth, almost like velvet.

He walked her to the window and turned to her. "Do you trust me?"

She finally found control over her voice and smiled. "No. But I want to fly."

His eyes started to flash at her "No," but he chuckled at the rest. "Don't worry. If I let you fall, your mother probably won't feed me again."

Her eyes flashed merrily. "The way to a Saiyan heart is through his stomach?" She meant it as a joke, but his expression sobered, and she belatedly realized that he hadn't taken it that way.

"No. But you'll have to find the way yourself." And with that, he rose into the air, her hand gripped firmly in his.

With a gasp, she realized that she was rising with him. He must have used some sort of telekinesis because she stayed beside him, on his level, not dragging behind him. He drifted through the window and then shot up into the sky, and she forgot everything else in her joy of flight.

She'd been right. It was nothing like Yamcha. He'd held her close to her chest, and she'd been constantly aware that he was doing the flying. Vegeta held only her hand, and she could forget that she wasn't flying on her own. She spread her arms out wide, thrilling in the feel of the cool night air rushing past her.

A moment later, he put on more speed, and she looked down, seeing the world zipping past. She was fairly sure they were going faster than an airplane. They were definitely going faster than she had flown with Yamcha. She wondered briefly if that was because Vegeta flew faster than Yamcha or whether it was that Vegeta was willing to fly faster with her.

She couldn't help herself. She laughed her delight out loud and glanced over at Vegeta. He was watching her, his expression unreadable. "This is wonderful," she shouted.

He winced. "No need for that. I can hear you perfectly well, woman."

She let the comment pass. She wasn't going to let anything spoil her enjoyment of this moment.

All too soon, however, he slowed down and began to descend. She looked around with interest. The stars were bright, and she was surprised at how well she could see. Where ever it was that he had brought her, it was stark, but beautiful. She saw few trees, but the most magnificent cliffs surrounded her. It was hard to tell in the starlight, but she saw what must be striated sandstone rock. She imagined the colors in the rocks would be beautiful in the daylight.

He touched down lightly, steadying her as she landed. "What do you think?" His voice was still softer than she had ever heard, with no trace of anger or sarcasm.

She looked around, appreciating the soft glints shooting off the rock faces. "It's beautiful. Where are we?"

"Where he brought me to spar."

She turned to face him, her hand still in his. "It's too beautiful for sparring." She gently reclaimed her hand and took a few steps away, lifting her eyes to look at the stars and turning slowly, letting her robe fan out around her. She stopped her spin facing him and was captivated again by his expression. His eyes were filled with emotion, but she still couldn't place them. Whatever it was, however, it created a warm, pleasant tugging in the pit of her stomach.

"It reminded him of Vejiitasei. That's why he brought me here."

Suddenly she understood more of Goku's plan, and she regretted having told him that he was stupid. Bring Vegeta to a place reminiscent of his home world. Perhaps it both eased and intensified his loneliness. Either way, it must have been easier to talk here. But how had Goku known? He'd left Vejiitasei when he was an infant.

She asked the question.

Vegeta shook his head, the movement creating flashes of starlight in the black depths of his eyes. "I'm not sure. He said the place pulled at him."

She looked around again, still in awe of the majestic, but rugged beauty surrounding her. The wind gently blew her robe behind her. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked softly.

He turned away, not answering for a moment. Bulma suddenly felt cold without his gaze on her. Without looking at her, he finally answered. She had to strain to hear him over the night quiet. "I wanted to know if you understood."

Bulma knew that she had reached an important point. What she said now would forever chart the course of this relationship. If she wanted to go forward with him, she had to say the right thing.

Fortunately, she had no doubts of what to say.

She stepped forward and placed a hand lightly on his back. His back muscles shivered slightly at her touch, but he didn't pull away. "You don't have to look on 'nothing' any more. If you want it, someone will be by your side. Sharing as much as you are able to share."

She felt all the muscles in his back relax, and he lowered his head, which had been raised proudly, looking out over the valley below. He spoke again. "And is that someone with me now?" It was the closest she'd ever heard him to pleading.

She slid her hand around to his stomach and pressed closer, gently, unthreateningly enfolding him in her arms. His heat felt good in the chilly night air. His body felt right in her arms, as right as it had felt that night on the lawn. She too looked out over the valley as she answered. "Yes, she's with you now. And she'll stay with you as long as she's able."

His breath left him in a long sigh, and he turned in her arms. Now she could almost put a name to the emotion in his eyes. It wasn't love, but she suspected it was as close to it as she was going to see for a while. His eyes searched hers, and she met him solidly, putting as much of her heart into her gaze as she could.

He didn't say anything more, but he gently lowered his lips to hers.

He didn't kiss her deeply. Both hesitantly explored each other. After a few moment, however, Bulma wanted more, and she tenderly brushed her tongue over his lips. He opened to her touch, and they explored more deeply.

Bulma wasn't sure which would melt first, her heart or her body. She'd never experienced such a soul-stopping kiss. She pressed her body close to his, reveling in the feel of hard muscles against her. He deepened his kiss and moved his hands around to cup her buttocks. He pulled her closer to him, and she felt his growing hardness against her thigh.

He broke the kiss, and she moaned softly at the loss. Immediately, he cupped her face with his hand and brushed her lips with his. She opened her eyes and gazed as deeply into his soul as she could stand. Some things in those depths made her shudder, but she met them head-on. From now on, she would accept everything about him.

"Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," he said.

She held him tighter, not wanting to let go long enough to go anywhere.

He chuckled. "Unless you prefer hard ground to a soft bed?"

She sighed. "I suppose you're right." She captured his mouth for another brief kiss before stepping back out of the circle of his arms.

"I usually am," he responded.

She batted at him playfully as he took her hand and prepared to lift off.

He growled. "Watch it, woman! I could leave you here."

She laughed. "You could. But I know you won't."

His expression softened as he took her in his arms and lifted off the ground.

Flying back, he held her tightly. While she had enjoyed the first flight, now she loved the flow of the breeze past their joined bodies. She nestled into his warmth like a cat in a sunny spot and felt more relaxed than she had in a long time.

He turned her slightly in his arms and kissed her again. She jumped and made a small squeal. "Don't you need to look where you are going?"

Vegeta glanced around. "What's to look at? Home is this way." He kissed her again, more deeply this time.

Bulma kissed him back, but her heart sang at his words. He had called where they were going "home." She couldn't remember him ever describing it that way before. She guessed that Goku had been right. She was good for him. She explored the warm feeling in her stomach and decided that he was good for her as well. Though, she reminded herself, he was still Vegeta, and she couldn't expect him to truly change his nature, certainly not overnight, and perhaps not ever. She nodded to herself. She could live with that.

He nibbled her lip. "You're not paying attention."

She smiled and attacked his lips. After a moment, she pulled back and asked, "Better?"

He groaned deep in his throat. "Tolerable."

She rolled her eyes at him, and he chuckled.

Just then, they arrived within sight of Capsule Corporation. Vegeta slowed and hovered by her still-open window. She frowned. "What are you waiting for?"

He caught her gaze with his ebon eyes. "Am I invited inside?"

"Now you ask! You were the one who seemed to want the bed."

He floated in through the window and gently set her down on the bed. Moments later, they were both undressed and in deep exploration of each other's bodies.

Bulma had no doubt that she had come home at last.


Hours later, they lay entwined in each other's arms. She shivered slightly, and he reached down to pull the covers over them. She snuggled closer to his warm body and lay her head on her chest. Hesitantly, he stroked her hair.

"What now?" she asked.

He shifted slightly, and his hand stopped its gentle motion. "What do you mean?"

"Is this one night, or does it last longer?"

He gently turned her body so he could look at her face. His eyes glittered in the faint light. "You said you'd be there as long as you were able."

She nodded. "But you didn't say how long you'd be there."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. "As long as you'll have me."

The End