It certainly wasn't unusual of Yamcha to decide to take a break from Bulma when he was mad at her, and it was also typical of him to stretch his breaks out for more than a couple of weeks. In the past, Bulma would wait to hear from him for a couple of days. And then she would try to call him. Usually when she did this, the pattern was that Yamcha would be kind but still insist that he needed some more time to himself. Then, at some point around Day 14 or 16, Yamcha would find himself knocking on Bulma's door with a bouquet of flowers and dinner plans to make up for lost time. Their last couple of breaks had been different, though. Bulma felt no need to reach out to Yamcha. She was tired of the cycle, and she was tired of him.

During their time apart Bulma had also been doing a lot of thinking. There were many times that she found herself sitting at her desk, staring at blueprints, and completely lost in her thoughts about Yamcha. This was a habit of hers that had been done since the beginning of their relationship, really. The thoughts weren't always pleasant, either. Lately, when she pondered through her mind, she was starting to realize that she really wasn't in love with him. All of those Red-Flags had been real, after all. Bulma still cared about him, which made the thought even more difficult. Though she no longer found attraction towards him romantically, it was painful to imagine a life without him. She had known him for so long! Hell – they'd practically grown up together! Knowing him, even if she tried to end the relationship amicably, he wouldn't be able to handle it. He'd refuse to speak to her ever again! She didn't want to say goodbye to such a large part of her life! And yet the idea of even kissing him was enough to make her stomach turn.

She considered the whole gang getting together for reunions in the future. How would it be if she and Yamcha were no longer on good terms? Sure, there had been times that they all had get-togethers during one of her and Yamcha's fights, but this would be different. They would be broken up. There would be an un-mendable rift between them. Yamcha would never humor the idea of just being friends with her, not after all they had been through...

The Blue-haired scientist dropped her face into her hands, her heart sinking. She wasn't ready to officially end things with him, though she now knew it was definitely coming. She just needed more time to process everything. This was going to be terrible, and she was well aware of it! Tears welled in her eyes, and she let out a consequential sniffle. She was just about to let out a heart-wrenching sob, but the sudden sound of a voice clearing behind her made her freeze.

"Woman!"

Who else could it be?

"Enough with your whining! I need you to mend my suit!"

Bulma picked her head up from her palms to look up at Vegeta. He was standing over her, his arms predictably crossed. There was a large gash on his right bicep, the left shoulder of his suit completely blown off. The fabric was tattered across his chest, revealing fine lines of muscle that she was uncomfortably pleased to see. His cheeks, which usually sported a tan hue, were now bright red. Dust was caked in his hair and across his jaw. Obviously, he had hit himself with a series of hard attacks. Bulma didn't understand why, but Vegeta seemed to be obsessed with hurting himself. It was an infatuation, really. He did everything he could to hurt his body, even after destroying the ship he trained in and nearly killing himself! He'd wipe himself out with determination, only to make a full recovery and start the entire process all over again.

What was with him?

"Now is not the time, okay?" She mumbled, hands still pressed against her chin.

Vegeta glared. He was used to her talking back, but it wasn't typical of her to bluntly decline an order. "I will not be told when to address you," He said sternly, raising a fist as if to warn her.

Bulma rolled her eyes. It was a bluff. Out of all the times that Bulma insulted Vegeta and he tried to intimidate her, he had never actually followed through with any of his threats. Not once had he even pretended to lay a hand on her. When they had first started living together she'd found a game in teasing him about this, asking the flustered Saiyan if he held back because had a crush on her. She'd even tell him that she thought he was cute just to try and get him to smile. Not that this was a lie on her part. To say Vegeta was cute was actually an understatement… But her jokes never worked in making him lose his temper. Usually he would just tighten his jaw and storm off, muttering something about how vulgar or indecent she was. It was funny, but she'd gotten bored with him always giving her the same reaction. She hadn't even tried teasing him in the last couple of months, at all.

Somehow, reminding herself that he never once had attempted to harm her made Bulma feel better. The Bluehead sighed reluctantly and held a hand out. "Alright, I'll mend your suit. Just go change your clothes, and..." Her voice trailed off. She was trying to sound confident as she spoke, but she was pretty sure she could hear the front door opening downstairs. Completely distracted, she found herself struggling to complete her sentence. "In a couple of hours, I'll…" Were those footsteps coming up the stairs? "I… I'll…"

Footsteps...

Footsteps! Bulma just knew it was Yamcha! After everything she had been considering that day, she wasn't yet ready to see him face-to-face.

Vegeta could sense the pest as he walked up the stairs. He had no desire to be in the room when Yamcha came in, so he made his way for the hall. Bulma watched Vegeta go, wordless, but she heard his voice in the hallway as soon as he'd closed the door. "Back for round two?"

Was this panic she was feeling? She really didn't know if she was emotionally prepared for another row with Yamcha. She didn't even want to continue dating the guy – another huge fight just wasn't even worth it! Perhaps she could crawl out the window before he came in? He'd think she was just out doing some shopping in the city! Poor Bulma was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't hear the response Yamcha had given to Vegeta outside. She certainly did take note of the saiyan's manic chuckles though, a hostile mock of whatever the Z-Fighter had said to try and insult him. Vegeta's voice disappeared down the hall, and she knew that he had officially left her alone to deal with Yamcha on her own. She grit her teeth as he stepped through the door a moment later. As she'd grown to expect from him, he was holding a bouquet of flowers and a small wrapped present.

"Oh, hey." She said, trying to sound as if he'd taken her completely off guard. As if she hadn't just spent her entire day thinking about him. "What are you doing here?"

Yamcha grinned and made a bee-line towards her. "Hey, I got you something!" He held out the bouquet. Bulma eyed the flowers, wondering if he truly believed that she'd be surprised with this gesture. He did the same damned thing every time they got in a fight! Was there no originality? She ignored his present and took a deep breath, smiling dumbly. "We should probably have a talk..."

.

Vegeta slid into a pair of yellow pants. He'd just finished buttoning a pink shirt over his chest, and he was feeling pure hate for the clothes he was pulling on. "Stupid Earthly fashions!" He growled to nobody in particular. He hated when he had to wear these clothes instead of his saiyan garb. They just felt so… frilly. Down the hall he could hear the Woman's voice rising along with the coward's. He could feel both of their ki strengthening with their anger as well. He listened, buttoning his pants and grabbing his tattered suit. He noted that Bulma hadn't been acting like herself at all lately. She'd hardly even bothered to argue with him when he commanded her to do something. And, even when she did give spine, she would retreat almost immediately. She had been acting so reserved, her efficiency had plummeted, and this certainly hadn't been the first time that Vegeta had walked in on the blue-haired girl crying. Vegeta began to head for her room to give her his suit, grimacing as their voices grew even more shrill with each passing second. How irritating.

"Get out of here! Just go! You jerk!" Bulma was shouting. She'd asked him to leave twice already, but he was standing his ground. Desperate, she picked up a vase that had been sitting on her shelf and chucked it at him. "Get out of my house!"

He dodged it, allowing it to crash against the wall behind him. Bulma was even more upset now. She just wanted him to listen to her and leave. She'd even wasted a perfectly good vase, and it hadn't even hit him! "You're paying me back for the vase!" She had her hands tightly rolled into fists and was now waving them at the Z-Fighter. "How dare you call me spoiled! Get the fuck out of my house! Get out!" She couldn't believe that just 10 minutes ago she had been crying over this creep!

Yamcha didn't budge from where he stood. This argument wasn't over. He could hardly believe what she was telling him, and he wasn't going anywhere until he had spoken his mind. If they were over, he was going to make sure she knew exactly how he felt. She was going to listen to him! It was unfortunate for the Z-Fighter, then, because it was at that precise moment that Vegeta strolled in and tossed his clothes onto Bulma's desk. She didn't even acknowledge the new guest in her room. Eyes puffy with hysterical tears, she was shaking in anger. "If I have to tell you one more time, Yamcha!" Now she snatched a glass that she had been drinking water from. Yamcha was too distracted watching Vegeta, so he didn't notice she had thrown it until it came into direct contact with his head.

"Yow!" He yelled, rubbing at the side of his head. "Hey, take it easy! Stop acting like such a psycho!"

Bulma was fuming. Everything that Yamcha said was making her even more upset by the second. She took a deep breath, readying herself to yell something back, but the blur that suddenly flew past her eyes stopped her before she could. Mouth hanging open in mid-thought, she looked up to see what had just happened.

Her eyes widened.

Vegeta was holding Yamcha by the shirt, slowly lifting him up off the ground. "The woman told you to leave." He growled.

Bulma's face lit up. Was Vegeta really coming to her defense?

Yamcha's eyes were filled with absolute horror. He grasped Vegeta's arm, as if to attempt to break the saiyan's grip. He'd only just been getting back into the swing of things – he wasn't ready to die again!

"The woman needs to do my bidding. She doesn't have time for you." With that Vegeta threw Yamcha back into the hall. The Z-Fighter landed on his rear and dumbly stared up at the Saiyan above him. Typically short in stature, Vegeta was now towering over him. Bulma was surprised at how disappointed she was to hear Vegeta's words. It figured that he wasn't really defending her. He couldn't care less about her! He just wanted his stupid suit to be hemmed… It only took a couple of seconds for Yamcha to jump to his feet and run for the stairs. "We still have talking to do!" He called. Once downstairs, he turned one last time to yell his final point. "Screw you, Vegeta!" And with that he was out the front door.

Bulma listened as his car started and the Z-Fighter sped away into the distance, as she silently watched Vegeta in awe. Even if it had been because of his own needs, he had still come to her aid… hadn't he? Why was her heart racing like this? Why did she feel so hopeful?

Sensing her gaze, the Saiyan cleared his throat to break the silence. "Well?"

She blinked, her heart still pounding from everything that had just occurred. "Well... Well, what?"

Vegeta let out a groan. "My suit, woman!" It wasn't quite a demand, but more of an exasperated reminder.

Bulma blinked again, and her bewildered eyes suddenly flared. That stupid suit! " I don't suppose I have other things to do, then?!" She waved her hand at the blueprints that had been scattered across her desk. The project she had been trying her hardest to focus on, despite the drama going on in her love life. "I don't suppose that I have other things on my mind, considering what just happened here! The least you could do is say please, you know! It's not like I'm your servant!"

Vegeta shook for a second. Human women were a confusing race, indeed. The blonde one downstairs that was always cooking and squealing was even worse than this one! "I got that rat to leave you alone, did I not? Weren't you asking for that?" He sounded so irritated about it. But, then again, he always seemed irritated...

"Hmph, good for you!" She hissed, but she felt the harsh tone leaving her voice. She could tell he was trying to be reasonable with her – at least, as reasonable as he was capable of being… She looked at the suit he'd placed on her desk. "Leave me alone and let me work. I'll bring this to you when it's done."

Vegeta made sure to hold his chest out as he walked from the room. He knew one thing for sure.

Bulma was back.