Weeks

Weeks. It was beginning to feel like absolute weeks since they had left me. Luckily enough, genius that I am, I had remembered to pack a nifty capsule home. At least I haven't gone this whole time without bathing. I bet those boys smell awful!

The feel of all these tiny bubbles against my skin is so refreshing. I close my eyes and lower my hair into the steaming water. Continuing my descent, I let my head sink until the water is lightly lapping just below the corner of my eyes. All outside noise is muffled as I stare tranquilly at the stark white ceiling. My ears only pick up a light static noise and the distant thudding of my own heart.

Although this planet has been excruciatingly boring for me, I have to admit I couldn't find this type of solitude at home. I seem to be constantly interrupted when I try to work; its either my over friendly mother, corporate types asking about mass production or my own adventurous needs disrupting my work days. In this type of isolation, I would be forced to concentrate on my inventions. Too bad all I brought was scrap parts for dragonball trackers. I'll just have to force myself to treat this like a vacation from invention.

But what am I saying, this is an adventure to bring back my one and only love who was stolen from me by the hand of absolute evil! "That little midget will pay for what he has done," I say to the empty bathroom. Well, actually he probably won't, at least not by my hand. I guess getting the snot beat out of you by a boy and getting your tail cut off by a wimp is partial payment.

Even though I am soaking in this steaming hot tub, a chill runs up my spine. It's like thinking about that evil twerp will bring him crashing down my door. My 'faithful' friends and I had seen his pod crashing to this oddly colored planet right after we landed. They also said something was here that was much stronger, but I have run out of boyfriends for the other guy to kill. I have all my fear and hatred in reserve for that pint sized maniac. A creepy feeling tugs at the back of my mind, and I begin to feel exposed submerged in my bubble bath.

I slowly rise in the water and peer around the small bathroom. I see my fluffy pink towel draped over the sink, my matching slippers next to the tub, and the door still closed. Nothing out of the ordinary. I put a hand to my chest and sigh in relief. I close my eyes and force myself to change my train of thought. Soon I will be welcoming my Yamcha back to life and securing his affections for life. I will be such a hot heroine: rich, smart and beautiful. Who could wish for more? Just as I began to relax again, a jarring noise erupts from outside my bathroom.

I suck in my breath involuntary. And fear tries to take hold of me. I listen to the empty air, hoping to divulge some information in its stagnant presence. I hold air in my lungs and stare at the door knob with full concentration. I could hear a pin drop, if that were possible. Then another shuffling noise emerges from inside my temporary home. I stand up slowly and cringe as my displacement causes the water to slosh in the tub. The room feels exceptionally cold as I wrap my towel around myself and mechanically step into my slippers. As I turn the doorknob, I hear the lock disengage with a hollow click. My teeth clench together and I curse every small noise I produce. Another noise emerges from beyond the short hallway before me, but I recognize it immediately.

'The fridge,' I whisper to myself as my fear evaporates. The boys must be back. My relief is quickly replaced with anger. They could've knocked on my door to let me know they were back. Jerks! They had nearly scared me to death. I puff out my chest and prepare a thorough lecture as I stomp down the hallway.

First I see the cabinet doors lying on the floor in disarray, then the fridge door wide open. Geez, they were raised in a barn! I pull my eyebrows together in anger. I force an end of my towel into the crevice created by my breasts, put my hands on my hips and begin loudly, "Our resources aren't infinite!" Walking to the fridge door, I slam it shut and continue, "And what's with going Tarzan on these doors?"

A deep chuckling begins behind me. Gohan's voice hadn't broken yet, and I am pretty sure Krillin's never has. Goosebumps form on my arms as I unwillingly turn to identify the culprit. His eyes are already halfway through their appraisal of my body and his lips are turned into a suggestive smirk. I feel frozen in place. Like a deer about to get hit by a Mack truck. His eyes have found their way to mine, dominating and emotionless. Mine are drawn to his mouth as he takes a greedy bite from one of my apples.

The loud crunch wakes me from my state, and I run back to the hallway at a speed I didn't know I was capable of. I take a sharp right into my room, face the door, desperately force it shut and turn the small lock on the door knob. I stare wide eyed at the lock as I back away. I hit my bed with the back of my knees which fold as I sit. My breathing is in short, shallow breathes as I try and prepare myself for what is in store. The seconds tick by as I slowly regain my ability of cognitive thought.

My first thought, is why isn't he following me? Could the Saiyan actually have honor? I 'humph' at the thought as the agonizing faces of my dead friends nudge at my memory. My eyes flick to my dresser. I should get dressed. I stand and staying parallel to the door frame, I side step over to the pile of clothes I have set there. I let my towel drop and quickly pull on underwear, my black leotard pants and snap on my matching sports bra. Then in an act of absolute bravery I pull my shirt on, breaking my eye contact with the door for a split second. Then I return to my bed and hope that the man will just go away.

It seems like hours before I hear solid footsteps making their way towards my door. Each one causes me to tense even further until my muscles are condensed to a solid knot. Then the doorknob turns slightly, gets caught by the lock and with a cracking noise turns the remainder of the way. The door opens and in its place stands a solid mass of muscle. While looking at him through a small orb on Roshi's Island I was fully aware of his small stature, but as he stood looming before me, his height seemed immense. I swallowed a gulp of air and tried my damnedest to blend with my comforter. Unfortunately, I am no chameleon. I bet I stand out super well on a planet where I am the only girl in existence.

His voice is void of emotions as he bluntly asks, "Why are earthlings here." It sounded like a command, but apparently it was a question. I bit my bottom lip and downturned my eyes to a small blue flower on my bedspread. I heard him take a step forward and instinctively looked up. He brought a fist up into the air between us and loudly barked, "there's a hard way and an easy way, girl."

With my arms straight as an arrow, I brought my hands down on each of my knees. My face scrunched on its own accord as I accusatorily shouted, "You killed my boyfriend!" In response a dark, thick eyebrow shot up and a condescending smirk flashed on his face. Anger grappled with my fear and won as I temporarily forget my current predicament. "I'll get him back, you monster!"

"Monster, eh?" His canines showed brilliantly as he openly laughs at me. "I don't remember having the pleasure of killing on your mudball."

My fists squeeze tight. In frustration I retort, "Well you practically killed him."

He steps forward again and cocks his head to the side. "So your boything is alive after all."

I jump up in anger and slam a foot down impotently. "No!" When my eyes finally lock with his, my anger diminishes back to the overwhelming fear I had once held. I immediately sit back down and stare at my fists.

"And you're here for what," he begins to walk towards my dresser. Out of the corner of my eye I see him nudge my towel with his gold tipped boots. He then walks toward me again dragging my eyes to his face. Smirking cruelly, he continues, "entertainment?"

I feel my face tingling with a blush, and I am about to inform him of my genius when I barely stop myself. I can't tell him I invented a way to track the dragonballs. He is obviously here to get them, and we need them more than him! I shut my mouth and look to the side for inspiration.

I am pressed flat against the wall next to the door before I can begin to form an excuse for my presence. A small whimper escapes my throat and my head recoils from the whiplash. I close my eyes to steady the spinning and when I open them again, his face has transformed. I thought he was scary before, but apparently he was merely toying with me.

His eyes are no longer black and emotionless; they have hardened into two shinny coals. I could almost see my frightened reflection in their depths. They looked determined and ruthless and contained barely restrained force. I felt my body begin to quiver and somewhere in the back of my mind I felt embarrassed by my reaction. Where had fearless Bulma gone? I tried to rouse her, but she failed me. My stomach began to churn and I felt water begin to collect in my eyes.

His gripped tightened on my arms and he pressed me further into the wall. "Well, girl." He questioned with a furiously dangerous snarl. After he stopped talking I felt a rumbling in his chest which could only be described as a growl. If he were a dog, I am sure his hackles would be raised. My body hair stood at full attention in reaction to his threat.

By some miracle I was able to put together some form of thought. "Ship captain," I said in a squeaky voice I didn't recognize. Then swallowing hard I continued, "I pilot their ship."

He released me roughly and barked, "That's what they usually do, idiot." He then turned his back to me and I slumped to the ground as I lost my ability to stand. '

I had seen nature shows where the camera crew is nearly attacked by the creatures they are resolved to capture on film. I never understood their crazed need to get so close to the dangerous animals. I had thought they were action junkies. But the exhilaration I was now recovering from was all encompassing. I couldn't think about anything or anyone but Vegeta. It's like my full awareness had been stolen from me and driven by someone else, like at this moment I was returning to my own skin. All my menial problems like dead boyfriends, familial expectations and abandonment issues had dissolved in an instant. I took a disconnected breath still feeling like the Bulma I had known was far away. I heard rumbling above me and lifted my head to that direction. I made a small questioning noise and stared blankly before me.

He bent down in front of me and grabbed my chin with his gloved hands. His eyes had returned to unreadable blackness as he restated his question, "Do they have any?"

I looked down my nose at his hand and slowly pulled my chin up from his grasp. Pulling myself back to reality, I turned my head to look to his right and answered softly, "any what?"

Air whipped by my right ear and a crunching sound splintered next to my head. I scurried to the left and saw his hand fist deep in the wall. He retracted the hand and stood glowering before me. His fists gripped tightly on either side of his body; his jaw muscles clenched together. Apparently my innocent attempt had failed. I looked to the floor and dejectedly answered, "I don't know."

I was hauled to my feet by my now throbbing arm, but before he could release any threats I continued, "I haven't seen them since we got here, okay?" I tried to shrug off his grip. I looked at him in embarrassed irritation and then in a louder voice, "They haven't checked up on me!"

His eyes tightened into a scowl as he tried to ascertain the validity of my statement. He shoved me away by my arm and I collapsed onto my bed. He turned on a dime and left through the doorway. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and closed my eyes in relief.

I was woken, curled in a ball on top of my sheets, by a burning smell. Did I burn dinner again? I thought to myself. I opened my eyes frantically and saw a thin stream of smoke rising from my comforter. Then as if my magic a beam of light shot right next to my face and lit another tuft of cotton on fire. I jumped up in fright and looked around the room to see a self satisfied Saiyan smirking at me.

He tossed an object on the bed next to me and demanded to know what it was. I looked down at the object in anticipatory fear. Shit, I thought to myself as I looked at the dragonball tracker. I picked it up and turned it around in my hands. Attempting to stall I asked, "where did you find this old thing?" I looked up through my eyelashes at my capsule houseguest. He didn't look entertained. I scooted to the side of the bed and stretched my hands to the sky slowly. He still stood before me impassively. Damnit, that usually distracts men. I unconsciously bit my bottom lip and then released it when I recognized the motion. "Um…" I started to say.

"Stop stalling women," his voice was layered: obviously tinged with anger and frustration but buried deep was excitement. I cringed slightly at the recognition. In an overly confident tone he continued, "Confirm what seven things that contraption is locating."

My eyes snapped to his as I attempted the impossible. "Locating. What?" letting out a soft, uncomfortable laugh I tried again, "No, no." Hold up the tracker I released my most dazzling smile and added, "this is a clock."

He seems calm but not convinced. He lets out a patronizing humph and roughly says, "Bullshit." Then stepping closer and releasing a dazzling smirk of his own, he continues, "Show me how it works."

I pause for a moment as I recognize the satisfaction radiating from the man. I almost want to help him. He killed Yamcha! I remind myself. Wait, no he didn't. I bit the side of my cheek while deep in thought. Well, he brought about the death of my boyfriend. With the blame clarified, I scowl at the stocky Saiyan and petutantly say, "I don't know how it works." Then in practiced clumsiness, I let the tracker roll from my hand and bounce painfully to the ground.

The clattering sound echoes in the room as a snarl erupts from Vegeta. He is standing inches from my face in less than a second. He growls something unintelligible which causes me to freeze. I even stop breathing. I once again feel like a prey animal, only not quite as majestic as a deer this time. More like a mouse being cornered by a lion. He barely pries his teeth apart and throatily says, "pick …. It … up." I do as asked without thought and hand him the object which is now in two pieces. It has split at the seams and a few small springs are bouncing out from its internals. He looks at me with unadulterated hatred and raising his lip in disgust he says, "fix it."

I open my mouth to say that I can't, but he grabs my throat. His hand practically encircles my entire neck. He doesn't apply pressure, but he doesn't have to in order to get the desired result. "Don't fucking toy with me." He looks rabid and I don't have the nerve to lie anymore. I nod my head in a barely visible motion and he releases his hold of me. Turning away from me, I see him taking deep calming breathes. Looking down at the broken tracker, I acknowledge that I am indeed my own worst enemy.

AN: My response to Blue & Blacks "Weeks" OneShot theme. I could continue it…but then there is probably little chance that I would actually finish any of my stories. Sorry.