Vegeta slammed into the wall of the chamber, the weight of his own blast having sent him flying across the room in record speed. He would have cursed had the wind not been forced from his lungs. Instead with only a moment to spare he pulled himself free and forced himself to fly higher into the air. Just as he moved, a target beam of energy singed the area where his head momentarily ago sat. Taking the back of his hand he dragged it across his forehead wiping away as many droplets of sweat that he could leaving behind a streak of blood from his raw knuckles. Were anyone to walk in on him in this precise moment, they would see the warrior he prided himself on, and not simply as the alien man threatening to take over their planet.

He raised his palm and let a blast radiate and boil at the end of his palm, aiming it carefully for the small robot that was ever so slowly turning its gaze onto his location. He grinned maliciously; releasing the energy and watching the supposedly unbreakable bot dissolve in front of his eyes. Floating to the ground the glanced around the room unimpressed at the would be carnage he left behind. A dozen bots lay scattered in various locations, piles of metal shards or lumps of scrap metal were piled in every corner.

He looked himself over and grunted disapprovingly at the state his skin was in. Coated with bits of metal dust, sweat, and possibly some other grime he didn't wish to acknowledge. He could already hear the woman's remarks when she saw him.

"Vegeta gross! Haven't you ever heard of a shower?" he smiled to himself before turning to look at the blinking gauge on the opposite wall.

490…490…490…

He had been training at this gravity level for over a week now and it was time to push himself that much forward. Pushing the buttons to its left he watched as the numbers rose by tens. 500…510…520… he could feel the air being pushed from his lungs again, could feel his ribs bruising under the pressure and dropped to his knees.

"Are you mental? Why do you always have to push yourself to these stupid limits"

He growled at the voice that managed to creep into his head. He reached to push the button once more.

"Vegeta stop! I'm not cleaning your body off the ground here when you squish yourself. You can fester and rot here for all I care."

His finger rested atop the red button, wanting to push, wanting to force himself farther faster.

"If you hurt yourself it's only going to slow you down faster while you heal. Stop rushing yourself!"

Vegeta cursed again and again. He never wanted to admit she was right, even if she was only a voice in his head, but he knew that it was true. Any more and he would only hurt himself, resulting in needing a full day to rest and recover. He dropped his hand with force onto the ground and slowly, shakily pushed himself onto his feet. It was the most he could do right now, and he could feel his energy draining quickly with just this amount of effort. It was then that he felt it once again, the rock in the pit of his spirit. He would have laughed at the irony if he felt he could. This rock, this ball of raw energy waiting deep inside of him seemed to only show itself when he knew he couldn't go on. It teased him, giving him a small taste of the power he could have, but never allowing him to taste.

"Don't even bother Vegeta…it's pointless and stupid to try right now." Bulma's voice nagged in his ears. He ignored it and closed his eyes, concentrating on the ball of light, pulling it towards the surface. He could feel it stretching inside of him, coating the lining of his stomach but that was as far as he could push it. The woman's voice filled his head, the gravity pressed against his chest and he couldn't focus on anything besides making the annoyances stop. The rock shrunk rapidly and drifted away leaving behind an irate pain in its place.

"Where is that damn woman with my food…" he groaned. Forcing himself beyond the point of exhaustion he walked slowly to the door to release the pressure and open the capsule.

The cool night air swept across his face, chilling his skin and filling his chest again. He looked around the yard towards the giant housing building searching an energy force. He didn't expect much, he knew the older humans that resided in the house also were gone for the rest of the month, celebrating romantic time together, but he expected to feel the wavering flicker of Bulma's energy rising and falling as it did every night. Instead the air was clear of any life existence besides his own. He rolled his eyes as he made his way back to the house. He had left her in the woods over 13 hours ago, surely she must be home by now. He had only left her several miles away!

As he stepped through the door and made his way back to the kitchen he stopped dead, glaring at the refrigerator. A new problem suddenly came to him. He had left her in the woods to teach her a lesson in respect, in humiliation, and yes out of anger. He never expected her to be gone for so long and now he was left without a properly cooked dinner after a full day of training. He crossed his arms over his chest and grunted in disapproval. He had two choices as he saw it. Go and get the girl, or starve.

To get her was to renege on his threats, on his anger and his humiliation… she would never let him live it down that he 'rescued her' even if he was adamant it was for the sole purpose of needing food. Or, he could actually find his own dinner and leave her out in the woods overnight. He was not helpless, he had hunted for himself on many planets before this one and he hated that ever since he had decided to reside on this particular planet he had become dependent on the humans for their nutrition.

"Damn it." He hissed. He hated both his choices, and he hated more than he had put himself in this predicament. He also hated that it wasn't just the food he missed from her. He missed her attitude, her cheeky remarks and sass of how she would never take orders from him, would never subject herself to the humiliation of actually being his slave…as she performed all his chores and requests.

He ground his teeth together though as he recalled their last conversation, how he had laid himself bare for her. Or as bare as he ever would, and she openly rejected him. One moment she was forcing herself onto him, kissing and praising him. In the next, she refused to be his and made him feel the fool.

No. He would not go after her. He would not subject himself to her whims and romantic indecisions. He was a Prince! She should be pursuing him with gratitude.

His stomach tensed and growled its anger back at him. He did need to eat though. Walking back out the door he headed back to the forest he had left her in what seemed like weeks ago. He would follow his nose and see what came of it. If he happened to find her, he would drag her back and force her to cook for him. This was NOT a rescue mission he told himself. He was simply following his animalistic instincts.

Bulma cursed for what seemed like the millionth time that day as she hopped on one foot, trying to pull the seventh thorn from her toe. She wanted to cry, knowing her feet were covered in mud, dried grass and what ever mystery coated this damp earth. She had cuts, scrapes and a bit of sunburn on her arms, stomach and back while her knees were skinned and her legs bruised. It was her hair though she mourned the most, it's long, voluminous height now looked a cross between a birds nest meeting a tornado. It stood on all ends, every sort of nasty bit of forest clinging to its roots. Spider webs, leaves, bird droppings as well as some particularly sticky tree sap permanently ruined her once soft locks.

She was starving, she was thirsty, and she was tired, angry, scared, and cold. Bulma looked up at the sky and groaned, the sun was fading fast and if she didn't hustle she would apparently be spending the night in the woods. To be fair she hadn't just walked around the woods like an idiot for hours… in fact she had sat where Vegeta had left her most of the day, sure he would be back to get her. Once half the day had gone by and she had noticed she was starting to burn she began to suspect the angry Prince was not coming back to get her, and realized she had better get a move on. Pulling the tiny phone from her bra she flipped it open and regretted for the hundredth time today her early call to Yamcha for help. She had panicked, was pissed and wanted to get home and sleep but when she heard his voicemail, she wondered how it would look to Vegeta if she showed up back home with Yamcha in tow. So she bailed. Unfortunately, her one chance to call for help had completely drained her battery, the small light flickered pathetically a repeat reminder that she was running out of options quickly.

Marching forward again her heart began to race. Straight a head was a break in the trees, and a road could easily be seen. She tried to jog forward, wishing nothing more than to get out of this forest and into a bath but her muscles ached too much, so she awkwardly limped along the path, grinning like she was a mad man.

Watching from a distance away, a dead boar in his hands, Vegeta watched as she trudged into the open air and snickered at her appearance. Normally a beauty, she looked rugged and primal, coated in the scents of the wild…it was…soothing and attractive.

Bulma could have tripped over her jaw when she finally emerged from the trees. There, about five hundred feet away sat the back of her property.

"Are you kidding me?" she shrieked. "That jerk dumped me this close to my house and just left me there?" she stormed angrily for the door, rage shaking in her bones. "When I get my hand on him I swear to the Kai's I'll… I'll… well it'll be gruesome!"

Bulma stepped out of the bathroom feeling slightly better an hour and a half later. She had made sure to scrub every inch of her body until it glowed pink and fresh, and gingerly rubbed a bit of aloe onto the worst of the burns. Her hair was a lost cause she had determined regretfully, doing her best to wash the mass she would never be able to fully get the sap and grime from her memory. Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow it was being cut off and put to rest.

Walking towards her window she peeked out to see if Vegeta sat on the rock she and seen him by many times. The area was empty and she wasn't quite sure if she was happy or not. She was furious at how he had treated her…but she also couldn't ignore the feeling of dread that perhaps something had happened to him, or what if he never came back for what she had said to him? She sighed and drew the curtains closed to avoid checking every few minutes. Her stomach screamed for her attention and she headed down for the kitchen.

It was sitting on the kitchen table grabbing her attention as she walked in. A single tulip, the roots still attached, dirt covering the roots and sprinkled on the table and floor around it. She glanced around the room unsure why it was here or who had left it. Walking to it, she carefully picked up and noticed it was one of her mothers special varieties, White petals with Blue tips and-

"Is that…blood?" she touched the sticky substance on the stem of the flower.

It was by far the most disgusting flower she had ever received. She smiled wide; it was also the most romantic.