Disclaimer: I don't own Vegeta, Bulma and Dragon Ball Z, it was created by Akira Toriyama. I make no money writing this fanfiction.


Various tools lay scattered about the floor around the huge bulk of the gravity chamber. Bulma had come to love and hate the thing in the past year, just like she had a certain occupant of it. Whenever it exploded from within, it was as loud as his curses and shouts.

This last tear shut the thing down for the better part of the week, and it had started with a literal BANG. After which she heard the tiny tinkling bits of metal falling from the sky like rain, and a long pause. Then a loud shout of "BULMA!"

She had dropped the experiment she was working on just to rush out and hear a whole string of curses in a language that seemed harsh and guttural. Such syllables she could imagine represented by spirals, pound signs and clouds with skulls and crossbones in them not unlike those adorning a favorite manga that Goku liked about pirates.

"I'll show his royal nastiness a thing or two. Let him see if he can break this," she mumbled to herself. A sharp pinch caused her to curse loudly into the guts of the gravity machine.

"Anything you can build, I can smash, Bulma," he taunted.

She could see the white boots just beside her out of the corner of her eye. Pulling her face smudged with grease and machine fluid out from the aperture, Bulma sat up. Her lumbar muscles screamed in protest in a tight band of pain at the base of her back. Using her hands to lever herself up she glared up into the poker face of the Prince. Only a slight bit of amusement twitched the corner of one lip upwards.

"Bull," the inventor shot back. "Anything you break I have to repair, or all hell will break lose, because you won't shut up!"

"You won't either unless you're building something, you loudmouthed blue terror," Vegeta shot back, arms folded across his chest. She had to admit the armor he wore suited him. The ungrateful bastard hadn't even bothered to thank her when she had left it neatly folded on the bed in the gravity room two months ago.

"Shut up, you princely pain! You don't even thank me for that armor you're wearking on your back!"

Amusement twinkled in his black eyes"I shouldn't HAVE to thank you for doing something you should be anyhow, Bulma."

"Screw you," Bulma snapped, bringing her wrench down on his forehead hard. It worked when Chichi used the frying pan on Goku, so it was worth a shot.

"Ghhh," Vegeta grunted, without twitching a muscle. Terror thumped through Bulma's being in the form of a rapidly throbbing heart and rasping breaths. She almost was sure he would blow her to bits. Instead he gave her a very annoyed glare she would reserve for a mosquito biting her.

"If you don't back off there's more where that came from!" Bulma shouted, resorting to her best weapon against a saiyan prince: her mouth and brain.

Instead of ranting, Vegeta merely smirked. "For a weak human woman you hit almost as hard as a saiyan."

Blood seemed to rush through Bulma's humming cheeks now the color of strawberries. For a full five seconds she couldn't get a sound out of her mouth which moved. All she could muster was a shrill, "Buzz off! I can't finish repairing this GR till you stop hovering!"

"Then build the damn thing stronger next time, and I won't 'hover'," Vegeta shot back, glaring at her. "If you were such a great inventor…"

"I'll have you know I'm the BEST inventor, you royal pain in the ass!" Bulma shrilled, waving the wrench again. Before she could bring it down on his head he caught it with his white gloved hand. Vegeta's gaze locked into hers and a dangerous vibe crackled between them. Bulma felt him drag her forwards so her breasts landed on him, and her tight shorts brushed up against his spandex covered pelvis.

"Then work harder. Or do you want to be dead in 3 years," Vegeta said in a low voice, his lips tickling her ear.

"I won't be dead in 3 years, any more than you," Bulma breathed back, her voice barely a fraction of volume above his. IN the silent space of their bodies tightly pressed together Bulma felt his intense body heat along with the hard armored breastplate. Vegeta backed her up till she slammed into the rear of her workbench.

"You think I'll protect you? Is that it?" Vegeta mocked, smirking cruelly at her. Every muscle in her body twitched, struggling to fight or flee. Since he had grabbed her other hand that rose up to smach him, he pinned it over her head.

"Yes, I think you will, Vegeta," she answered back boldy, challenge twinkling in her blue eyes. Terror tasted sweet and she was no stranger to flirting with disaster.

"You're a fool, thinking that I'd spare a loud mouthed bitch like you," Vegeta whispered, tightening his grip so slightly on both wrists he held captive.

Heart thundering against her breastbone, Bulma swallowed the lump in her throat before she leaned forwards and pecked him on the lips. Just a chaste touch, but enough to feel the bolt of electricity through her. Raising one leg, she wrapped it around his hip, and rubbed herself against the bulge in the spandex she hoped was the right place. Since Goku was a saiyan, and she had seen him naked when he bathed as a kid, she figured Vegeta had the same anatomy.

Vegeta's nostrils flared. Spinning her around, he slammed her down on a worktable, and climbed on top of her. Hot breath huffed in her face as he grunted, "You think if you can entice me with sex you'll somehow win me over, eh?"

"It doesn't hurt to try, and you're handsome enough. I don't mind if it means I'll stay alive," Bulma whispered back. Vegeta laughed harshly, and then she felt the cloth of her shirt ripping after his white glove tore on it. Next to go were her shorts, shredded near the pieces of cloth that landed in a heap by the workbench on the floor with the bolts and wires. Bulma breathed deeply as he tore off her panties and bra with equal ease so she was sure there were marks from where the cloth had bit in.

Vegeta pressed his nose into her neck, shoving his hand into her mouth. "Bite down," he whispered harshly. "And don't move."

Bulma nipped the edge of his glove so he could yank his hand out of it. Was he really going along with it? Her answer came in the form of his now bare hand squeezing her body harshly on its way down. Once it reached the place of her womanhood Bulma arched her back at the fingers wriggling roughly inside. Bulma's eyes squeezed shut as she cried out, "Aahhh!"

Keeping both her hands pinned with his other hand, still gloved, Vegeta then knelt between her legs she parted for him. She said nothing, merely looking up at how the spandex stretched over his muscles. How he had the power to snuff out her life with a mere flick of his wrist and yet here he was tugging his pants down with that same hand he had violated her with. His heavy body lay on hers pinning her down, so it was hard to breathe under that dense muscle. Along her inner thighs she felt the movement of his hand guiding his saiyanhood clumsily towards her opening.

All Bulma could do was lift her hips at the same time she was impaled by thickness. The low grunt against her neck fanned with his breath came at the same time he had thrust fully inside. Skin against hot hard skin she rocked her hips upwards. Keeping his nose buried into her neck, the saiyan prince pulled out harshly. Bulma couldn't stop her cries and gasps once he started pounding into her.

A force of nature was fucking her hard and fast. Unable to hold on with her hands bulma moved with him in tandem and looped her legs around his waist to hold him to her. She didn't bother to muffle her loud cries of his name on her lips.

The last slam inside of her she was sure would break her apart but instead she tumbled over the edge. Spots danced before her eyes and she felt herself clenching down hard. Panting harshly Vegeta whispered, "Again, Bulma."

Once more the relentless coupling started up to a fevered pitch. This time Vegeta let out a low moan before he emptied inside of her. Squeezing her eyes shut with intense pleasure Bulma shivered from head to toe as her muscles all clenched around him. Hot, hard and breathing, Vegeta erupted inside her. One hand slammed down on the counter by her hip once the Saiyan prince stopped shaking.

"Oh shit, Vegeta," she managed to gasp through the head spinning afterglow. Her back screamed in protest with the sore muscles sated and satisfied. Like an earthquake had come and gone she had survived. Here she lay under a heavy solid Saiyan Prince who had held back mammoth strength to couple with her and not hurt her.

"Humph…" Vegeta grunted.

"You're too heavy, fatass," Bulma whispered.

Before she could truly enjoy the rest of the aftermath, The weight lifted from her and Vegeta got up off her. Cool air hit her nude body laying prostrate on the fridgid lab bench. With his back to her, Vegeta seemed to be putting himself back together while Bulma watched him.

"Not as fat as your ass," Vegeta murmured, still facing away. "Now finish the job properly. I'll be expecting you to have it done soon."

"You're very welcome, your royal jerk-assness," Bulma yelped back as she sat up and glared at his retreating back. After all that he just turned away like she was nothing.

Stopping, Vegeta turned his head slightly to regard her. "Be glad I didn't kill you like the puny human you are, Bulma."

"This puny human provides a roof over your head and food for your ungrateful ass!" Bulma shouted, voice echoing as she slid down from the table and walked shakily towards him. How dare he treat her like nothing!'

"You're still alive Bulma," Vegeta murmured. "Now finish your repairs, and stop bitching."

Anger exploding, Bulma saw red. She almost pounced on him, shrilling, "Stop bitching… stop bitching? You and I just screwed each other on a lab bench and that's what you say to me!"

"Shut up, Bulma," Vegeta growled, spinning around and glaring at her. He caught hold of her upper arms, shoving his face down into hers.

"You royal bastard… I'm not something you can just ignore," Bulma warned him, forehead pressed to his.

"No. You won't shut that shrill mouth of yours long enough for me to," Vegeta growled. He released her and then spun around, marching out. Bulma found herself standing alone in the empty space filled with nothing but broken inventions and dissected machinery from Freeza's ship.

She was alive. Still alive after having an argument with Vegeta as she had so many times before. Yet this time he had given her something back. One of the few things she figured he could. Her life, her safety, and his intimacy. Most women would feel alone and curl into a ball and cry, but Bulma gave a smile and chuckled at this. After all she'd survived yet another day, and gotten under his skin. For all her weakness psychically she knew that the Saiyan Prince had just shown gratitude in his own messed up way.

Gathering up the scraps of her clothes, Bulma then found a labcoat to slip on. She headed out into the main house to shower off and continue the repairs later. Yes, she had gotten to him. He had made his message clear, and she had made hers. Both needed the other in their loneliness and it was a relationship even at the most barest and basic level.