My beloved readers!

I can only apologize with every single word! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated for so long, but I'm not in the country because I really had a rough time at home. I feel much better now that I'm not in this mess for quite some time. Please review and tell me what you think, it always makes me happy reading your opinion.

Thanks for being there and doing this journey with me!

CHAPTER 8- To live again

''Vegeta?'' She asked as they sat one morning in the library. He read his page to the end and closed the book, looking up at her with a curious brow lifted. She had long ago stopped reading her own book. Instead the woman had just stared at him like she would sometimes when they where in here. It seemed to the Prince of All Saiyans that this room full of books calmed them down. Only here did they not fight verbally. Every once in a while they even laughed in here because of the foolishness of the ancient population. Or rather- he smirked at his own comment and Bulma fell off her chair. Now she seemed to have thought long about talking to him. What is she up to?

But instead of asking he just looked at her beautiful orbs to make clear she could talk. And that she did. ''Well I was just wondering, since you've learned all the known languages ever talked on Earth and you still don't seem to be overwhelmed with information, would you like to know how to play a game?''

He looked at her suspiciously. The only games they had played seven years ago had ended in brocken cuffs and outfits. Was the woman planning to seduce him that early? Not that he minded, honestly. It just seemed to be neither appropriate nor the right time for any sexual activities. After a full minute of silent staring he shrugged and turned his head back to the book. ''Don't be ridiculous woman. Saiyan Royalty such as myself would never lower themselves to play petty games of a weakling race.'' He stated nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A pout made it's way to the blue haired woman's face as she crossed her arms over her chest. ''Well, I have to inform His Highness, that the particular game I had in mind is chess. To win this game you have to be cunning and a very good tactitian as well as patient. However, I am not able to say you have these traits, my dearest prince.'' She announced in a dramatical voice. Alright so maybe she was a little desperate. She liked being with Vegeta but in the end of the day, the only real time she saw him was when she visited him in the library.

After that, they usually ate breackfast with her parents. So they weren't alone during the meals. And afterwards she would go to work in her lab and he to the Gravaty Room only to meet at dinner again or lunch and get into a fight because of litttle things. Then he would go train some more and Bulma would mourn over her dead boyfriend and wonder about her alien house guest. Somehow over the last weeks Vegeta had become her friend. She knew Vegeta wasn't the talkative type and they fought a lot over nothing actually. But somehow she felt like if she would ever need something he would be doing anything within his power to help her. And so, she wanted to involve him more in the every day life of an Earthling even though he would never be one. The alien had captured her heart within such a short period of time. Bulma almost felt like Yamcha's and the others' deaths happenes decades ago. She wanted him to enjoy his stay here, to live every day as if it would be his last one on Earth. It could be, although Bulma didn't like to think about that. Of course she knew the Saiyan Prince wouldn't stay forever at her planet, let alone her home. Therefor the desire to spend time with him seemed only natural, right?

''Is that so, woman? Why don't you introduce me to this 'chess' and we shall see who will win.'' He challenged as he stood up to put his book back into the shelf. With a smile Bulma nodded and winked him to follow her. ''Let's go to the recreation room, tough guy.''

She had won. The woman had outsmarted him, this time of course. Still it was hard to comprehend. Sure she was considered a genius but he was at least as brilliant as her. Just beacuse he used his intelligence in a different area didn't mean he wasn't. This fucking, stupid Earthling game chess, it shall be damned! It didn't matter to Vegeta that it had been the first time he had ever played this game. He was a poor loser and he knew it but it didn't change his feelings at the moment.

''Yei! I win haha.'' Bulma tried to hold in her laughter as she saw the frown on the Saiyan Prince's face but her hand could only do so much. Glancing at him a second time, she burst out in laughter, not able to contain it any longer.

''Oh come -laugh- on Ve-laugh-geta! It -laugh- was your- first- laugh- game-laugh.''

The alien prince only huffed at her childish behavior. It wasn't really her fault. If she was better- only temporary of course- then so be it. She was a sore loser just like him with the only difference that she showed her emotions much more openly. The woman looked extraordinary beautiful when she laughed, she always looked beautiful. Sometimes when she made that pout just before her temper got the best of her and when her eyes rolled a little when he thurst into her, these were the moments she was the most georgeous being in the whole universe. There was nobody as funny, sexy, intelligent, short-tempered or … perfect as her. She was everything. As he saw the woman had calmed down considerably, he took her hand instinctively. Vegeta hadn't even realized what he had been doing and now the recreation room was deadly silent as both stared at the hand he was holding. Quickly regaining his composure, he did the only thing that came to his mind. He leant forward and kissed her hand, murmuring. ''Congratulations.'' When he let her hand slide back to her body, he added. ''Tomorrow you won't be so lucky.'' With a truimphant smirk on her face she did a quick, mocking coutsy and replied. ''We shall see Ýour Highness.'' And with a nod of his, they left for lunch.

That evening Vegeta lay on his bed, hating himself more than ever. What was I thinking, just grabbing her hand?! His goal seemed farther away than ever now. He had seen the blush on her face. Shurely it had been awakward though she had rather quickly made a joke of his act. For what he was more than thankful. But still. How to approach her? He couldn't just grab her hand every day and see if she would make an attempt to kiss him. Even the thought of it seemed ridiculous. Seven years ago everything had been different. He had been himself and hadn't done anything to court her and still she had fallen in love with him magically. Now he was himself still- he couldn't risk her getting attached to something he was not, however, he wasn't so harsh anymore. He couldn't be too nice because that wasn't him. So they fought every day but it was like a little joke or game for them, no hard feelings. Also, because of the knowledge he had, Vegeta couldn't just sit around and do nothing. Since he didn't know what had made her love him, he couldn't let 'fate' decide since he had changed that in the first place. What if he didn't do this something and they would only stay 'friends'? He asked himself, cringing at the word friends. He would have to leave eventually, that would happen. Vegeta couldn't allow it. On the other hand, he couldn't stress her into being his wife. He could, but he didn't want to.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he turned away from the never changing ceiling. Maybe the humans could make themselves useful for once. He mused as he fell asleep.

The prince had decided. After watching about one hundred romance filmes he had an idea of what he'd do. Well, he would wait until the woman decided to get rid of the weakling for good. He couldn't risk her getting back to him out of guilt. It seemes Earthling women do that quite often. No. He would wait. Scar-face would be back in two months. That would be enough time to prepare himself mentally and give the woman more time to be with him. Vegeta walked into the kitchen, deciding that it was time for a pre-dinner snack as he heared the woman talk with her mother.

''So I guess I'll go shopping a little with her since we haven't seen each other in ages.'' The woman finished.

The blonde mother of hers only nodded. ''That's a great idea, dear.''

Vegeta shrugged it off. It didn't matter where the woman went or with who, especially if the other person was female. He would just keep track of her ki and everything would be fine. With that in mind, he sat down on his usual spot at the table, only to be served pastries and cup cackes immediatly by the womna's harpy mother. It was the only thing she ever did right. Therefor, he remembered, he hadn't sent her into oblivision the first time he had come to live on Earth.

It was three minutes past midnight. Where is this Vey forsaken woman?! The prince asked himself, more irritated than anything. She had gone with a female friend. What in hell did they do that took so long? Taking a trip to the other side of the world with human speed alone? He had been keeping track of her ki since she went out of the front door and into one of her cars. Noting unusual had happened and so, Vegeta had stayed in his room with closed eyes and on high alert.

So instead of being satisfied and his consiousness at ease the Saiyan was on edge. Secretly he had been waiting all night for a reason to check up on her. But there just never came one. Damn her! She's just too-. There was it. Her ki spiked for a second. Before it even stopped, Vegeta was out of the window. With only his pyjama pants on, he flew throught the night sky towards her. Bulma wasn't that far away- for a Saiyan anyway. He was there within three minutes. She stood there, pressed against the wall of a run-down house.

He could see the human bastard with his lilttle knife threatening her. His eyes grew wide at the gravity of the situation hit his mind. Bulma wasn't strong. Bulma wasn't fast, not fast enough to dodge or avoid this knife if the man in front of her decided to push it into her throat. Too fragile to survive an attack like this.

His nostriles widened at that thought. I will not lose her because of that human maggot. He screamed inwardly. Vegeta's mind turned on the auto pilot as he powered up to Super Saiyan and blasted his woman's opressor in mid air. Instantly realizing he wasn't supposed to be blonde, he powered down. The blue haired woman stood there, still pressing her tiny body against the muddy wall, anticipating anything. With graceful silence the Prince of All Saiyans landed in front of her.

Your little trip is over, woman. Grabbing her fast but gentle around her waist, he took off again. Perfect timing. He could feel the clown and his halfbreed son fly towards the spot they had just been. Wisely, he hid his ki. Poor Bulma Briefs opened her eyes as she felt being grapped and lifted. She hadn't even realized the guy was gone as she looked into two pairs of Saiyan eyes. How..?

It didnt' matter. She embraced her savior with every ounce of strengh she had left, whispering 'thank you' in his ear. A single tear rolled down her face as she realized it was truly him. At this moment, she never wanted to let him go. She wanted to stay, she wanted him to stay.

''If you start crying I will drop you.'' He whispered calmly back. It was then that she noticed the wind in her hair. A teary laugh escaped her lips as she pressed herself tighter against him, inhaling his scent deeply. Bulma realized she was supposed to feel horrified, shocked and intimidated. However, the only thing she felt was being safe. She was safe and taken care of. He cared for her and it made her feel warm again. Somehow it meant so much more than just saving her life- Yamcha and Goku had done that all the time when they had been younger.

Suddenly she was pulled to her feet. The light was on and they stood in her room at Capsule Corp. The blue haired human let go of the Saiyan in front of her, never breacking eye contact. A small smile graced her lips as her arms fell to her sides. The prince in pyjama panties actually responded with a smirk of his own. Before wishing her a good night in his own special way.

''I will come for you at 6 a.m. Be ready for training.'' She only nodded as she heared his words that would not make sense to her until the genuis pulled her blanket over her head. Shit!

''Alright, woman. We will start running at your pace. Start.'' He commanded the barely awake human beside him. She rubbed her eyes like his little son used to do when he started crying. It was amusing and heart breacking at the same time. Remembering the little brat was always something he tried to avoid. Not once since Namek did he go into his old son's room. It was too painful and was only followed by self-loathing and guilt driven GR sessions.

The woman just stared at him wide-eyed, just like little Trunks used to, without doing anything. So he gave her a hearted pat on the back. ''Run.'' He said, still calm but more urgent than before. With a sigh the little female started moving at a ridiculously slow pace. Vegeta was almost sure any frog would be able to pass them. It appears I do not have another option. He did his best not to walk behind or in front of her, to give her space but still be between her and the street. After about ten minutes though, she started complaining.

''Veg-eta. I can't do- this. Let's- stop.'' Bulma breathed. Rolling his eyes at her follishness, he declined the 'offer'.

''No way woman. You have to be in shape. Who knows when another bastard will try to oppose you? You were lucky I was around but I will not always be here.'' The alien stated as nonchalant as possible.

''But-''

''No.''

That was then that she faced him with these big blue eyes of hers. When she looked at him like this, he was not able to deny her anything. But what he had said had been true. Maybe something would happen that would lead to him not staying on Earth, not being Bulma's husband, not being her mate, not having a child with her. If that would happen, he had to be sure that she would at least be able to defend herself against this low-life male population. These thoughts scared him the most: The posibility of not staying. Of course the clown Kakkerot would be more than delighted to let him stay at his house on the mud ball. His pride wouldn't allow this option, however. He was a prince, not a commoner. And besides, if it really came to this twist, he would not want to stay here to face his failure.

''You like poetry. What are the lines of Pablo Neruda's poem number 15?''

Her eyes widened even more at the sudden theme change. Suprisingly, she did not deny him an answer or ask about the origins of his knowledge of this man. No, Bulma closed her eyes, a tiny smile on her lips as she replied.

''It pleases me when you grow silent, as though you were absent,
and you hear me from afar, and my voice does not touch you.
It seems that your eyes have flown from you
and it seems that a kiss has closed your mouth.

As everything is filled with my soul,
you emerge from everything, filled with that soul.
Dream butterfly, you resemble my soul
and you resemble the word melancholy.''

He loved her recite these lines. When he had read them the first time, the woman had given him the red book. It was at least three thousand pages, all full of ramantic poems. First he hadn't understood what to do with it but since it had been a book he had started reading. And found a liking in it. Since then, he had started reading one poem every night. Come to think of it, he missed it somehow. Maybe I should start doing that again.

''It pleases me when you grow silent and are as if far away.
As if moaning, butterfly lulled to sleep.
And you hear me from afar, and my voice does not arrive:
let me quiet myself with your silence.

Let me speak with you also with your silence,
clear as the lamplight, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, quieted and clustered with stars.
Your silence is of the star, so faraway and simple.''

Vegeta watched her running alongside him, breathing heavy as she told him the lines of his favourite poem. She was so beatuiful, her movements graceful. She was everything. Her smile made him smile and her red cheeks reminded him of the first time they had ended up in bed together. It had been that moment when she had looked into his eyes, cheeks red and a smile on her face, that he had truly understood what had been happening to him: He had fallen in love.

''It pleases me when you grow silent, as though you were absent.
Distant and dolorous as though you were dead.
One word then, one smile is enough.
And I am happy, happy that that is not so.''