Sorry about the little hiatus there. Hopefully you can forgive me :S. This chapter was written on a lot of cough-syrup, but re-editted later, so there shouldn't be any problems that I didn't catch. Let me know if there are, though, as usual. ^^ Hope you enjoy!

Coming Clean

Chapter 10 - Wrong Place, Wrong Time Part Four

"Today's the day!" Bulma chirped cheerfully as she entered the room of the snoozing saiyan. She marched straight to the blinds and flung them open with glee. Sunlight flashed into the room, causing Vegeta to pull the covers over his head with a groan.

"Woman! Get out of here! I will decide when it is time for me to..." he paused and there was no sign of life from under the comforter for quite some time. Then he cleared his throat. "What day?"

The heiress pranced to the other side of the room, tugging on his sheets with anything but restrain. "The first day you're allowed to be out of this gloomy old room," she answered. Vegeta was not so enthused.

"You disturbed me from my rest just for the purpose of telling me that I am free to leave this room?" he could already feel the vein in his forehead beginning to swell.

"Not just this room. Any room! You're free to go outside and take a walk, or even a light jog. You can get some fresh air and start to work those muscles again!" she replied with a smile. "Come on, get out of bed and go enjoy yourself." She offered him a hand of help, knowing he would refuse it.

He didn't surprise her. Pushing her hand away from his body, he sat up on the bed. "I will go outside when I please. Until then, woman, you will bother me no further!"

Bulma frowned. "What?"

"Get...out." He pointed toward the door.

"How rude! I come in here telling you all this good news, and just as I'm about to tell you all about the big breakfast downstairs for you, you decide it's time for me to leave? If you ask me, you need to learn to respect-"

"When I say leave me be, I mean it," he began to stand up from the bed to intimidate her into leaving, and just as he rose, he caught the scent of something wonderful. "Servant woman," he paused. "Did...did you say something about breakfast?" he asked suddenly, already beginning to feel the moisture accumulating in the corners of his mouth.

Bulma's features softened slightly into a cocky grin. "Why, yes I did. And not just any breakfast. A breakfast fit for a saiyan prince."

She certainly knew how to stroke him the right way...what was she up to? Vegeta didn't ponder this thought for very long, however, before he was ambling out the door and down the hall. He rushed down the stairs, apparently racing some unseen competitor for his food, and slid into his seat at the kitchen island miles ahead of his human attendee. He was practically drooling all over his plate by the time Bulma reached him, and was sitting like a cartoon character, knife and fork in hand. "I have one question, woman."

She rolled her eyes and faced him. "What is it now, Vegeta?"

He eyed the food in front of him uneasily, full of temptation and distrust. "Who made this food? Was it you?"

The words, "No, but-" had barely escaped her lips before he attacked a pile of pancakes like a starving animal. Bulma shook her head as she began to pour a glass of orange juice. "So what are you planning to do with all this freedom?" she asked, taking a sip.

He took a breather from his rapid inhalation to answer her question as he reached for a few strips of bacon. "I plan to continue my training." His answer was dripping with irritation, as if he couldn't believe she would ask such an obvious question.

She shook her head. "Oh, no you don't. Remember? No training until you're better. I don't want you out there running yourself ragged, just so you can march back in here and expect me to fix you up again."

He sneered at her, only holding back his tongue on account of the food filling his mouth. "Mff" was all he managed before realizing that his response at the moment would sound anything but intelligent, and deciding to hold off until later. Bulma smirked and glided to the other side of the room to pick up a newspaper. Tracing her finger around the lip of her glass, she eyed the prince closely as he ate.

Vegeta continued to munch away. His initial hunger contained, he was now taking the time to cut his food properly before ingesting it. Feeling her eyes on him, he suddenly stopped mid-forkful and shot a glance in her direction. "Why are you staring at me, woman?"

Bulma didn't reply right away. Instead she gazed out the window past him. This only irritated the prince further. "Well? Spit it out," he growled.

"I do have a name, you know," she replied instantly. Over the past few weeks, this had become a sort of mantra for the two. He would continually call her "woman" or even "servant girl" when he really wanted to get under her skin, and she would always reply in the same aggravated fashion something along the lines of "That's not my name!"

This time, though, she kept her tone even, and her voice light. She leaned in toward him, causing the prince to shift uneasily. "Well? What is it?" he snapped.

"I was just wondering..." she continued. She was hesitant, but knew how long to draw out his patience, which wasn't long. "If you would do a favor for me."

Vegeta scoffed and returned his attention to his food, not deeming the question fit for an answer. Bulma raised herself from her seat to travel to his side of the island. "I thought you might feel that way. Listen, I have a deal for you. I want to go shopping. I need to make a stop for groceries, clothes and shoes. And you want to train, right?"

He didn't answer so she went on, "I promise to give you the entry codes for your ship at the end of the week if you go shopping with me today. Just a two-hour trip, and I'll let you train a whole week early."

"Forget it."

"What?" Bulma squeaked. She really hadn't expected him to turn it down so soon.

"If you need someone to carry your things, why don't you get one of your servants to do it for you?" Vegeta asked, following up his question with a swig of orange juice.

"First of all, they're called 'employees', not 'servants'. Secondly, It's Saturday. No one's here working. And I don't want to take a robot because it's boring having no one to talk to while you shop," Bulma whined. "Come on, Vegeta. Think about it. Two hours in a store, and you'll be back training in no time."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. Well, he had found out what the big breakfast was buttering him up for. The more he thought about it, the less shopping seemed to be the end of the world. He glanced at her eagerly awaiting eyes and blew out a breath. "You will supply me with the codes by this Friday?"

She nodded.

"And you will not force me to do anything but carry your purchased items?"

She nodded again.

There was a long pause. "Fine."

She let out a squeal, which he noted had less of an impact on his eardrums than usual, as had most of her outbursts since he had snapped at her the previous night about his sensitive ears. At least the woman could take orders. Granted, she was the one who picked which orders she would follow, but...

Several minutes later, Bulma was dashing down the stairs, dressed in a completely new outfit toward the saiyan prince, who was just finishing his meal. He looked her over and rolled his eyes at her excitement. "Alright, let's get this over with."

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door in a flurry of hairspray and expensive jewelry. Half an hour later as they entered the store, Vegeta was still grumbling about not being able to fly there, rather than waste valuable time in such a "ridiculous contraption." Bulma ignored him and power walked into the store, leaving him to mumble to himself as he followed her path.

Vegeta had been on commercial planets before, but he still found himself taken aback at the sight of the earthlings' shopping center. He followed Bulma as she dashed from store to store, "scoring big-time" in the shoe departments and boring the prince to no end. Finally, they reached the last store on the heiress's list. They entered the store, making a bee-line for the makeup department and Vegeta sauntered behind the blue-haired beauty, dozens of bags in tow. Had he been a normal man, he would have been exhausted by this time. But that was the beauty of taking saiyans out shopping.

Leaning up against a wall, Vegeta stared boredly out the main window, waiting for Bulma to find the sweater she wanted in "just a little more of a...sea foamy shade of green". His attention was quickly drawn away from the front of the store, however, and toward the path of a man who seemed to be sidling up next to Bulma. The prince continued to produce all the signs of boredom, but his eyes never left the stranger. Just then, the man made eye contact with Vegeta and began to back away from the girl and make his way toward her male counterpart. He drifted over to him with a smirk on his face, and murmured in a low voice, "Hey, buddy. That one yours?" He nodded his head in the direction of the heiress.

Vegeta ignored the man, refusing to break his gaze from the doorway. Then he heard the man whisper as he walked away. "Guess not. Nice piece of ass, eh?" he asked, awaiting some sort of affirmation from the prince. At this, Vegeta felt himself bristle. He watched more closely as the stranger made his way back to Bulma, his hand slowly dropping to his side, sweeping outward casually in an effort to grab her hindquarters. No sooner had the man's hand begun to extend than Vegeta shot forward across the isle to ram the man viciously into the wall, t-shirts and jeans falling around them.

He gripped the stranger's neck tightly as he hissed into his quivering face, "Never come near my woman again." The man bobbed his head violently up and down, and just as he did so, Vegeta realized what he had just said. He dropped the offender like a bag of trash, and backed away slowly, not sure what to do next. He was snapped from his thoughts by the voice of an enraged heiress. "Vegeta! What do you think you're doing?!"

From this scene, all the way home, he received an earful about terrorizing the general public and what kind of damage control her family's publicist would have to do to wipe this from the front page. But even her screaming couldn't pull him from the daze he continued to return to. He couldn't believe what he had said. What was wrong with him?

When they reached the Capsule Corp. complex once more, Bulma stalked upstairs to put away her newfound treasures, and Vegeta was left with a moment's peace until she returned down the stairs to put away the groceries. "And I can't believe you would pull a stunt like that, being that you're supposed to be soo smart and all, knowing that I have the codes to your ship!" she continued her shouting, seemingly not missing a beat from her trip upstairs.

She closed the refrigerator for the last time, putting away the final bag of vegetables, and turning to Vegeta. "I just don't believe you! What did that guy even do to make you so mad?"

"Nothing," Vegeta replied instantly. "He did nothing."

"Nothing? I find that hard to believe. Why would you just hit someone like that for nothing?"

"I never did such a thing. I was simply warning him," the prince replied uneasily, then turned to walk toward the stairs. Creating the pair's classic pose, Bulma stepped in front of the irritated saiyan, crossing her arms in front of herself. "Oh, no. You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on with you."

"Mind your business, woman. I accomplished the task you set forth. Now leave me be," he pushed her aside, only to have her slide in front of him again.

"No, Vegeta. Tell me what's gotten into you. I can't have you running around terrorizing people all the time. What was it about that guy that made you do something like that?"

"His face."

"What?" Bulma tilted her head to the side.

"I didn't like his face. So I told him," Vegeta finally answered, averting her incriminating gaze.

"You didn't like...his face?" she paused for a few seconds. "You're kidding me! How immature can you get? You're like a big toddler. I can't trust you to behave yourself because the stupidest little things set you off!"

Vegeta felt his fists begin to clench. "Get out of my way, now, woman."

"You're unbelievable. You know that?"

"Get out of my way," he warned her through gritted teeth.

"What? Are you going to slam me against a wall, too? I just can't believe-" Her statement was cut short as her body was thrown against the nearest wall, hitting it with a soft thud. Vegeta held her there, pushing himself down on her to quiet her aggressive speech with his mouth. He forced his lips on hers, and this time, he didn't pull away. Vegeta's hands held her arms tightly against the hard surface as he pressed their lips together in a fit of passion.

After a few seconds of blinding intensity, he finally pulled away from the breathless girl, who stared up at him with a look in her eyes which was not fearful in any way. Rather, she gazed back at him telling him with her eyes that she felt everything that he did. The prince's breathing was heavy, and he struggled to regain his composure. Bulma opened her mouth to speak, but both pairs of eyes were drawn away from the situation as they heard a knock at the door.

Bulma looked up at the prince, wanting to say something. For the first time, Vegeta found himself in need of an explanation for his actions. He wanted to tell her things. Things that mattered. Not just idle insults, but perhaps something more. In any case, he wasn't able to, since she began to straighten her hair and walk away from him, ending the moment abruptly to answer the door. He stood in the kitchen awaiting her return as he watched her walk to the back door. As she opened it, they were greeted with the last sight Vegeta wanted to see at that moment.

Yamcha stood outside on the step dressed in a suit and tie, holding a bouquet, which he promptly shoved toward the still red-faced Bulma. "Hi. Listen, I know this is short notice, and I know we're just supposed to be friends now. But I just had to tell you, Bulma. I still love you. And I want to get back together. Just us, this time. No tricks. No one else. Just us."

Bulma stared at the man, jaw agape, and through robotic movements, accepted the flowers. "I...I...can't believe you're really here. I can't believe you're doing this."

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