Chapter Seven: The Departure of the Prince

Bulma awoke to bright sunlight shining down on her face. She groaned and rolled over, hitting what felt like a stone wall, that is if stone walls were able to grunt. She opened her eyes slowly and saw tanned flesh in front of her. In an instant, her eyes shot open and the night's 'main event' flooded her memory banks. Somehow during the night they had managed to get to Vegeta's room amidst their lust and passion. She wondered if he was awake or if he was still sleeping so that she might be able to escape his room without detection. Doubt it, he would wake up if a breeze ruffled his hair wrong. She was a little bewildered at her own actions, she had slept with Vegeta. Actually slept with the man whom she thought she hated and was pretty damn sure hated her just the same. Yet they had shared a moment together. It wasn't like she and Yamcha hadn't, oh no they had quite a few 'moments' over the years. But not so quickly. She made Yamcha wait for years, and now she had given herself, willingly she might add, to a man she had met less than a year ago.

Vegeta was brooding over what had transpired, he didn't understand how after so many years of perfect discipline that took him so long to master, had been shattered in mere months by this woman. How she vexed him deeply, this woman was an enigma, there were no other words to describe her. Though his back was turned to her, he could feel her eyes searching his back.

He couldn't believe how stupid he was, somehow the woman had slowly wormed her way past all of the walls surrounding and blocking those infuriating, irrational emotions. And what made it worse, is she did it without him even noticing it. But that didn't matter, as he was bothered greatly now by something else. He had enjoyed it, which made him only want to cringe with disgust. How had the mighty Prince of All Saiyans fallen so low? It wasn't just mindless sex he had had with the whores on Frieza's ship when they needed to feed his needs. No, this was something entire different, something he had learned to despise while enslaved by the now deceased space tyrant, yet he was never able to comprehend the extent of its power. Last night had been raw passion, in its strongest form, and he had fallen prey to it's every luscious curve.

Bulma's eyes travelled down his tanned muscular back, and she couldn't help but notice the scars that were prominent. So many scars, I wonder what evils caused them. Her fingers lightly touched his back and she instantly felt him stiffen under her finger tips. So he is awake. She didn't move her hands for some time, relishing the warmth of his back until an idea popped into her head. Her fingers started to move in a slow, methodical pattern as she gently added pressure. She heard Vegeta let out a muffled growl but it did not deter her.

"Woman, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to give you a massage. You're muscles are way to tense for any normal person. Relax a little."

Vegeta moved away from her and out of the bed, causing her to scowl but then blush and turn her head as she saw him in all his naked Saiyan glory.

"I need to train woman, unless you want those deadbeat tin cans to come and kill you in two years."

Bulma's eyes widened as she looked at the clock, it was already past noon. It was the latest she had ever seen Vegeta sleep in, or for that matter it was the latest she had ever seen him out of the G.R. with no training in for that day. She glanced back at him and noticed he was already donning his typical black spandex shorts he so favoured for training. "The G.R. isn't fixed, and I don't know how long it will take."

"Then I expect it to be fixed when I return."

Bulma watched Vegeta open the balcony doors and then fly off towards the northern mountains. She could only stare in disbelief, he acted as if nothing had happened between them. Ooh that man! I'm going to kill him! You would think he would take a break once in a while. She smirked at her thought, him taking a break would be like Goku not eating, it would never happen. She slipped out of the bed, picking up the discarded clothing she had been wearing the night before and headed to her room to take a well needed but quick shower.

"Kami what the hell! . . ." Bulma eyed herself in the mirror, large bruises covered her hips, waist, abdomen, and buttocks. The only explanation she had was they were accidental pressure bruises from Vegeta. But what had surprised her was she didn't notice till after her shower. "Damn that Saiyan and his ridiculous strength." She grumbled to herself for sometime before putting on an old pair of sweat pants and a stained grey hoodie. No sense in beautifying herself up if she was just most likely going to come out covered is grease from the G.R. later that day. She made her way down to the G.R. and was rather shocked at what she saw. "This . . . is going to take longer than I thought . . ."

Bulma wiped the sweat from her brow that had accumulated there. She had been working on the G.R. for over two hours now and it was no where near ready to be used by Vegeta. "Oh this is just stupid!" She threw her hands up into the air and let out a frustrated sigh. She always knew her father to be thorough in his work, but now she questioned if he was getting senile like Vegeta had said. I doubt it, most likely that ugly ape kicked him out as soon as my Dad said it was fixed before he could run any full scale diagnostics. She had wires coming out of practically every panel in the machine and electronics of all types were spread out on the floor. Needless to say, it looked like a war zone, and she was caught right in the middle of it.

"Come on, clear through you stupid thing!"

Bulma looked at the diagnostics she was running. Only two out of the nine tests she was running had been completed and the other seven were moving at an agonizingly slow pace. Maybe it was a bad idea to have my Dad fix the G.R. But it still doesn't explain how so many things got messed up. This thing could have exploded . . . again! A beeping sound brought her out of her revere and she looked down to her laptop. Test five was blinking and had completely stopped.

"Look here you stupid thing, if you don't start downloading the information right now, I'm going to recycle your metallic ass!"

Bulma growled to herself, what would yelling at her poor laptop solve? It was already being pushed to its limits and it kept on going like a little trooper. Plus without it, she would be running back and forth between Vegeta's precious machine and her lab. She let out a discontented sigh, she knew this wasgoing to keep her up the rest of the day and perhaps even the rest of the night. DAMN THAT SAIYAN!

Vegeta breathed deeply, calming his sense. The frigid air stung his lungs slightly, but he did not mind. The cold helped to clear his head, helped him focus his mind on his goals. To achieve Super Saiyan, was first and foremost, destroy those tin cans, and then kill Kakarrot. This woman, the aqua haired vixen, held no place among any of his goals. Yet she haunted his dreams at night and his mind by day. He needed to leave the weak mud ball planet, for the woman had become far too great a distraction. He had let all of the passion and lust contained within every fiber of his being take control and he did not like that. Vegeta was a man who was always in control, always keeping those blasted emotions check and bound.

He opened his eyes slowly, his decision had been made. He would train in the solitude of space, where there was no aqua haired harpy to distract him. He would return in two years time, perhaps sooner if he mastered becoming a Super Saiyan. Vegeta smirked at the very thought, him a Super Saiyan, a thing of legend. Oh how he longed to feel the legendary powers surge throughout his body. He brought his ki up enough to warm his body and then dropped it again. He needed to retrain his body for space, for it was nothing but a cold, dark abyss.

Vegeta remembered the first time he was taken into space, he was only five. It was the day the damned lizard took him away from his home and family. The cold was like nothing he had ever experienced before. His home planet of Vegeta-sei rarely dipped below ninety degrees Fahrenheit. But in space, there had been no bright desert sun that bathed him in its crimson warmth. He snarled at the thought, how he hated remembering his cut short days on Vegeta-sei. Remembering only brought misery and right now he didn't need that, he needed to focus.

Bulma was becoming worried. Three days had passed since Halloween night and still Vegeta had not returned. The G.R. had been fixed correctly a day ago, much to her anger and frustration. Her body did not feel sore till the day after she woke up in bed with him, causing her to work slightly slower. And yet still no sign of the Saiyan Prince. So many questions raced through her mind. Was he hurt? Had he left for good? No that couldn't be right he said he would be back, right? Did he regret that night? Why hadn't he come back? Was he avoiding her? And the question that she dreaded most, did he hate her?

She tried her best to keep her mind from wandering off to the Saiyan Prince. She would dance herself to the point of exhaustion but as soon as she would undress she would see the bruises from that night and her mind would instantly dive deep into thoughts of him. She could not bear to eat in the kitchen with her family, that was where she and he usually fought. She couldn't work in her lab, for everything she was making was to help him train. Needless to say, Bulma was getting very irritated.

A week passed before the Saiyan Prince returned. In the course of that time, Bulma's worry had turned to frustration and then to anger. Her anger soon spiked to pure fury as he ignored her upon his return, only speaking in low tones to her father. She couldn't hear them, but from the curt nod her father gave, it could not have been good. She saw Vegeta look at her, their eyes locking for a moment. She saw the coldness that she had not seen since he first came to live at Capsule Corp had returned. And how she hated them. How she loathed him. Her fury spurned her to yell obscenities in his face till his sensitive saiyan ears bled. Yet for some odd reason, something held her back. She could only glare her hatred to him, but a dark feeling over came her heart and she had to wonder if he was going to go through with what she was thinking.

Vegeta could sense the woman was angry, very angry. He could feel it radiating off her body in thick waves. If he were anyone other than the Saiyan Prince, he would have been frightened. But then again, who was he other than the Saiyan Prince? He had spoken to the harpy's father about fueling and readying the space craft but it had come to somewhat of a surprise to him when the old man told him the space craft was for the most part, ready to go. He said something about the woman working on it for a couple of days fixing every little kink and malfunction it had in its system. But of course, Vegeta didn't really care. He just wanted to be off the damned planet as soon as possible, before he lost control again.

Even after being gone for a week Vegeta knew he didn't have full control over this damn temptation the vixen possessed. The fact that she was angry didn't help either. That was what enticed him the most, her anger. It outrivaled that of any saiyan female, of that he was for sure now. It made her look more beau- No. I will not think about that disgusting woman. He growled under his breath, the woman now clouded his thoughts more than ever. Though her gestures weren't helping either. In being back for only a day he noticed the glares she had given to him continuously. Luckily for him though, the old man had already fueled the ship and the blonde slave woman was stocking capsules full of food for his journey.

Bulma wanted to cry when she found out. Her fears had become reality, he was leaving. And for how long, she didn't know. It was perhaps that thought that made her cringe. She was angry with him yes, but the thought of losing him in space made all her anger disappear, only to be replaced by apprehension, fear, and worry. She watched her father fuel the ship and her mother store large amounts of food into capsules for Vegeta. Her heart felt like it was tearing in two. But why? When had she become so attached to the stupid, arrogant, monkey bastard? Surely one stupid night in bed had not made her emotions swell to such a state? But her mind kept replaying that night. It was the only time she ever fully saw what those dark, rich onyx eyes held. Damn it, get out of my head you stupid monkey! This can't be happening! My heart is not ready for this, not so soon after Yamcha.

The phone rang breaking Bulma out of her thoughts. She effortlessly glided over to the phone and noticed it was Mike calling. She slowly picked up the phone, after all she had completely forgotten about the play in December and figured him calling her would probably end up being rather important. "Hey Mike."

"Bulma darling is that you?"

"Of course Michelangelo! To what do I owe the honour of your lovely call?" She couldn't help snicker at their little jokes. It was like she was a teenager all over again.

"Oh I should hope you would know my lovely darling." It was obvious to her that Mike had picked up on their little joke again as he was playing along with it too. "I have called the infamous queen of dance to let her know when she may bless us with her absolute daring presence. I know I dare to ask this of the lovely lady so soon, but we would be obliged to have her with us starting on Wednesday."

She tossed a wary glance to the calendar. Wednesday was tomorrow, damn why couldn't he have said tonight. "Yeah Mike, that works for me. What days will I be coming down?"

"Probably every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday till the performances begin. Of and before I forget Bulma, would you be willing to switch your role?"

"Huh, switch my role, what for Mike?"

"Well you see, Leila is playing the Sugar Plum Fairy and she absolutely despises the man who is playing the Cavalier. She flat out screamed that she would rather die than do a pas de deux with him. And I would rather not lose her in the play. She said she could handle playing Clara, as she and the Nutcracker are good friends."

Just like last time, I would be playing the Sugar Plum Fairy again. Bulma pondered his request for some time. The role would be easier in a sense, as the Sugar Plum Fairy only appears in the second act of the play. But the dancing would be harder, and doing a full on pas de deux without the main partner could prove challenging. "I will switch the roles on one condition, the man playing the Cavalier has to be back in town."

"Yes he's back now. The troupe's touring ended earlier this week and they will all be present for rehearsal tomorrow.."

If Mike could have seen her, he would have seen her nod her head. "Well then Michelangelo, you have a deal."

"You make my life too easy, oh mighty queen of dance."

Bulma snickered at this comment. "Anyway Mike, I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right Bulma, sorry about the sudden change."

"Don't worry about it."

"Thank you Bulma, good-bye and see you tomorrow."

"Bye Mike." Bulma set the phone down and let out a sigh. She really should have thought switching the roles through some more. But it didn't matter to her now. All she had to focus on was a few dances and luckily no trapeze parts except one. But that one was easy, all she would have to do is sit on a swing and slowly spin on it to the ground when she 'magically appears.'

"Woman, your stupidity with other Earthlings continues to astound me. You would never hear two Saiyans talk to each other like that."

Bulma's small smile quickly turned to a scowl. Her mood that had become slightly happier while she had been talking with Mike instantly turned sour. Slowly, she turned to face her physical, mental, and emotional tormentor. "What. Do. You. Want. Vegeta." Her tone was threatening as she emphasized every word to her question with a deadly glare.

Vegeta returned her glare with one just as deadly. "What makes you think I want anything from you? I simply walked in while you were on the phone."

"Then leave. I already have a hard enough time dealing with my emotions at the moment and seeing your ugly mug isn't helping."

"Woman, you do not order the Prince of All Saiyans to leave. And I suggest getting over your emotions and forgetting about that night, as it meant nothing."

Bulma watched Vegeta leave, the look of blasphemy written all over her face. At least he had answered her question of if he hated her. Unfortunately, she did not like the answer. She could have dealt with him hating her, it wouldn't have been so bad. But the fact that he didn't even care that the moment they had together was something, that broke her completely. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes and she couldn't stop them. She wanted to hole herself up in her room, however her feet had other ideas. They carried her out the door to the space ship that was in the final preparations for take off. She glared at the back of the Saiyan who rightly disregarded every single one of her emotions as he headed up the ramp to the space ship. It took everything she had to keep from falling to her knees as she heard the space ship power up and blast off into space.

He was gone.

She was heartbroken.

And nothing ever felt so wrong for the both of them.