Summary: An unlikely Vegeta and Bulma get together that spans over the infamous three years. How did it really happen? Slow burn. Harsh language, sexual situations and tons of mayhem.

Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own any Dragon Ball characters, etc etc. Rights to their respectful owners.

Brief note: Still trying to get back into the groove with this V/B pairing. Bare with me as always. :) This story begins shortly after Vegeta's recovery from the Gravity Room Explosion and him disregarding Bulma's warnings of training so soon after.

*** Chapter One: The Wrong Foot

"Oh fuck off!"

Her voice reverberated over the expanse of the lab causing the flame haired warrior to cast her a harsh glare, one that normally would have stoked fear into the hearts of his enemies. Instead, the woman acted as though he suddenly didn't exist, returning to typing on her computer screen in front of her as though he hadn't spoken. He balled his fists, the force of which caused his arms to shake slightly in frustration. How dare she.

"Woman." He warned.

He was met with a deep sigh when Bulma turned to address him fully, her obnoxious hairdo causing the sayain's eye to twitch at the ridiculousness of it all. She was an idiot and clearly wanted to die. Her face bared an annoyed look, one that only infuriated him more. He needed to train and the gravity room was broken. It was her job to fix it. She knew, of course, that this was how his seemingly simple and straight forward mind worked. Bulma took a moment to look over him, as though seeing if he had reinjured himself before snorting at his aggravated look and turning to view her computer again.

"Fix it at once!" The Prince bristled at her obvious brush off.

" I have other things to do today Vegeta," She snarled not bothering to look back at him, "I am not your slave! Go train outside until me or my dad can get to it! If you went easier it wouldn't be broken right now! How many times do we have to have this conversation before you get it?!"

Selfish prick, she finished to herself, more bitter than anything that he had disregarded her warning these last few weeks and had returned to training so soon after injuring himself. Inwardly, she was so mentally frustrated with his lack of regard for her. She had gone out on a limb to ensure he had everything he needed to train, despite his harsh exterior, and his lack of appreciation was starting to grind her gears. She typed on her keys more harshly then necessary, causing the screen to ping.

"You want to die at the hands of the androids you foolish woman?!" He barked in anger, his arm swinging in front of him in a threatening manner, " I am the Prince-"

"- of all Saiyan's and demand I do your bidding, blah blah BLAH," She cut him off frowning into her screen, back still turned to him.

He ground his teeth with fists still clenched, "Bitch!"

Bulma chuckled at such a childish response, " Yeah yeah-"

She was cut off by the sharp shrill of her phone, causing her to suddenly raise a hand to him, finger pointed to hold the conversation. Vegeta scoffed and turned swiftly, stomping out of the lab with a sharp slam of the door. Going to her father, she knew. She frowned toward the closed door, pressing the button of her cell to receive the call. It was Yamcha.. again. He had called her three times today already and since all three calls had been blatantly ignored by her, she thought it was time to address the situation of their relationship. Her stomach dropped at the implication.

"Hello?"

"Bulma," He sounded relieved," You haven't returned any of my calls.."

He sounded defeated, she noted, and she couldn't blame him. Since the explosion of the gravity chamber Bulma had blatantly ignored him. She was frustrated and confused and was certain that Yamcha was too. Considering they had been doing good up until that fateful day weeks ago, he probably was plagued with questions – none of them she particularly wanted to answer. She couldn't help it. Vegeta had run rapidly in her thoughts for the last several weeks even though he'd been scarce. He carefully avoided her the last few weeks up until truly needing her, including strategically arranging his meals around times he knew she would be in the lab. She had no idea if it had been shame of his condition during the explosion or just clear annoyance of her forceful personality that repelled him these past few weeks but it did little to deter her own gravitational tug. She.. cared for him. A frightening revelation that seemed to throw everything asunder.

"Bulma?" Yamcha voice slammed into her thoughts.

"..yeah, " her voice came out soft then grew stronger, " I am.. just tired. It's been a crazy time fixing and working in the lab. Sorry Yamcha."

"Its okay, babe, " He seemed to have bought such a lame excuse, "Want me to come over? .. I haven't seen you.."

This time Bulma felt defeated. Its not like she was truly doing anything anyway. She had been .. avoiding the situation long enough. The memory of her previous conversation with Vegeta forced her decision despite it not being what she wanted. Get it together, Briefs!

"Sure, " Her voice spoke softly.

"Great!" Yamcha's voice breathed too excitedly, "I'll be right over!"

The phone call ended before Bulma could even muster a reply. Turning her attention toward the clock, she realized it was going to be a long and awkward night.

"Yes! Oh! "

What had started as a calm conversation about what they had both done the past few weeks had ended in a rush of hormonal explosion. She was riding Yamcha furiously in her living room, hands grasped behind his neck as she gasped with pleasure. It had been weeks since she had gotten such a rush of adrenaline that only this carnal act could provide, and she was chasing it with wild abandon. It felt wrong, but the pleasure mounting in the pit of her stomach forced her to the finish line. Yamcha's hands splayed across her slender hips, encouraging her motion with ease with a flushed face, his lips parted as he admired her shameless behavior. Her parents were away that evening, she had told him, and they were making full use of it. Despite the power level that pricked the back of his neck that hovered in the gravity simulator just outside, he was enjoying every minute of the lithe form taking him for everything that he had. He was slightly paranoid of the immense power that was a constant reminder of his lack of worth in the grand scheme of the upcoming androids, but ultimately, he decided he was the true winner here while he admired the blue beauty.

He's just an asshole anyway.

He shoved all thoughts to the side and wrapped his arms around the waist of the beautiful heiress as she reached her climax, shuttering and moaning with an arched back. She was here with him, in the flesh and loving him with her body. There was no room to think of megalomaniac murderers in these moments. He took over for her, quickening her pace so he could join her in bliss shortly after, moaning her name into the empty room. Little did he know their thoughts seemed rather in sync.

When her eyes finally opened to reveal the lap she was sitting on, Bulma instantly felt ashamed and embarrassed. Had they really just had sex in her parent's living room?! When had they suddenly let things get so out of hand? It had been a lonely few weeks, she supposed and now she was instantly regretful. Strong arms had held and encouraged her, blood pumping with desire and passion but she knew within her heart that her mind was not thinking of the scarred bandit. He was breathing heavily, head tipped back recovering from the rush not noticing of her glance to the window. She jolted slightly when she realized the chamber had been powered down and her alien house guest was more than likely lurking around. Yamcha looked up to her then, feeling her movement and catching where her eyes lingered.

"Who cares, B?" He spoke so easily, without a care in the world, "I'm sure he sensed us anyway."

Bulma panicked slightly, " What?! Gross! "

Yamcha chuckled, "Your power level spikes."

She looked at him quizzically until she realized what he was implying. She gasped and felt even more ashamed, even though this was technically her boyfriend and she had obviously done nothing wrong. In her own home she was to be expected to do such things.. and they had, in the past, but she had not thought of her houseguest back then. Her shoulders slumped then, causing Yamcha to frown. This did little to ease either of their confusion.

"Do you honestly care what that asshole thinks?" He asked annoyed.

Her temper flared and she slowly rose from him, redressing herself as she turned to him angrily, surprising Yamcha a bit by her outburst. He recovered quickly and redressed as well, tucking himself away to slowly stand, readying himself for an argument. She had never cared before! Suddenly he had to tip toe around Prince asshat and it was infuriating him.

"He is a guest in my home Yamcha, of course I give a shit!"

"Guest? More like a slave driver! " Yamcha screamed back, obviously letting out aggression and frustration that he had been harboring for weeks, " He treats you like shit and you don't even care! You've been working for weeks! I want my girlfriend back! "

Bulma's temper was beyond control, " He is helping us with the androids! Of course, I am going to help him! He's one of our best chances against them! Don't be an idiot! And what have you been doing these last few weeks? Training? Going to the bar? Just fuck off Yamcha! "

Yamcha was stunned slightly into silence momentarily, making Bulma feel triumphant. Little did she know, such a pause was really for the dark figure that lurked by. She stalked from the living room then, slamming the kitchen light on to be able to see and startled when she came face to face with the saiyan prince. He was leaning against the counter top, bowl of leftovers in hand - prepared by her mother earlier that evening - eating meticulously and quietly. He seemed unaffected by her presence, almost as though she hadn't even entered the room. Crimson blossomed up her chest to her face, heating her drastically. How long had he been standing there? She was too terrified to even ask. She parted her lips to speak to only have Yamcha barge in after her, realizing too that he had been present probably during a majority of their promiscuous activity.

"What kind of pervert are you?!" Yamcha suddenly demanded in Vegeta's face, "Were you listening in on us?"

Vegeta remained unmoved and silent, continually moving spoonfuls of fried rice into his mouth. Bulma blanched slightly at the behavior, eerily feeling as though something terrible was about to take place. Yamcha was not taking Vegeta's silence well and was getting angrier by the second, throwing insults and cursing the saiyan as he enjoyed his meal. The way Vegeta disregarded the other man's presence was unnerving. This entire month was going to shit. Bulma had had enough.

"Get out!" She suddenly barked at Yamcha seemingly tired of it all, " Just GET OUT, Yamcha!"

The bandit froze in his spot to turn to her, " Are you out of your mind, B?"

"No, but currently you are," Bulma bristled, " Just go home, we'll talk tomorrow."

Yamcha just looked at her in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"Yamcha, please! Just go already!"

He frowned, seemingly annoyed, but turned to leave, stopping to place a kiss to the blue haired beauty's hairline before exiting the room and seemingly out of the compound. The silence in the kitchen was stifling. The flame haired prince seemed entirely unaffected, finishing off his fried rice in turn to eat left over dumplings as he pulled them out of the fridge. Bulma watched him with a sense of unease, her eyes following him as he went about the motions. She parted her lips to speak but then closed them, seemingly without words to redeem herself. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt.. utterly exhausted. The emotional wreckage inside of her was seemingly heavy. Instead of entering conversation, she sighed heavily, turning to leave the kitchen. She approached the door frame and just as she was about to pass through, his voice cracked the silence causing her pause.

" You are above him, " His cool toned voice washed over her, "He's as skillful a man as he is a warrior."

The words stunned them both. It was obvious Vegeta had not meant to speak them. Silence hung in the air, making her blush as her hand reached out to brace herself against the door frame. So he had heard them and apparently now he was insulting the performance. She was left speechless, her fingers digging in to the wood frame.

"Pathetic," Vegeta finished, lips curled in snarled disgust, his voice revealing far more emotion than either expected. He was apparently full of surprises this evening.

Her cheeks burned. Wait.. was he jealous? Or just.. disgusted? She turned her head to find she was now alone.. confused more than ever.

Brief note: I hope it was to your liking. :) p.s. reviews are greatly appreciated.