Glorious

Chapter 10

AN: For the unedited version, please head on down to Archive of Our Own. It can be found under the same pen name of Froglady15.

Two days had passed and Bulma was ready to go and visit her parents and she was looking forward to it. She desperately needed a change of scenery, even if it meant in a few days' time she would want to be as far away from her mother as possible; she would cross that bridge when she got there. She was curious to know whether or not Vegeta would still choose to come with her; she kind of hoped so, despite her guilt and worries about what had happened with Lazuli the next morning. She knew she was walking on very thin ice by choosing to continue on this path, but a part of her really didn't care. That night with Vegeta was the first time she'd felt alive since coming here; she didn't want to lose that just yet. With regards to Lazuli, she decided that if Vegeta was not worried about her, then she wouldn't be.

By late morning they had both boarded the train as scheduled; though she hadn't seen Vegeta until the train had actually departed the station. Their private rooms were adjacent of one another; something she suspected was by design by Vegeta's doing rather than by coincidence.

The rooms were small, but adequate. As she was settling herself in, she heard a knock on the door.

Bulma went to answer it and in stepped Vegeta. His mouth went straight for hers as he closed and locked the door behind them; she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back hungrily. The last forty eight hours spent apart had been torturous! All she could think about was being with him again.

She didn't object as he spun her around and pinned her against the door of the room. Instead, she began to fumble with the buttons if his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against hers.

Vegeta smirked against her mouth at her urgency and assisted her in undoing his shirt, his lips not leaving hers.

They immediately collapsed on the floor together in a trembling mess of limbs and damp clothes.

Bulma began to giggle from exhilaration once she'd caught her breath and her mind had had a chance to catch up with what they'd done. "I can't believe we just did that!"

"Give me half an hour and we can do it again if you wish," he chuckled.

"I want to be able to actually walk normal when I see my parents," she said jokingly.

"I want to meet your mother," he said casually, sitting against the closed door and wrapping his arms around her, bringing her with him.

"Why?" She snorted, settling against him. "So you can seduce her too and you can brag about having both mother and daughter in one weekend?"

"Of course not!" He scoffed, truly offended that she'd think such a thing, then realized that it wouldn't be the first time he'd seduced and had both a mother and daughter. However that thought had not even entered his mind when he'd mentioned his desire to meet her mother. "I am merely curious to meet the woman your husband is still obsessing over and I would like to see what kind of woman sells her daughter out the way she has done to you."

"Oh," she said. "Well regardless, I don't think that's a very good idea,"

"Why not?"

"Because she'll take one look at you and she'll know what's going on here."

"She will not,"

"Yes, she will!"

"And how would she know?" He asked in amusement.

"I don't know, but I'm telling you, she's not stupid and she'll figure it out."

"Well it is not like I will be fondling you up in front of her,"

"She'll know,"

"As you wish," he sighed, though he really was curious about her parents.

"What will you be doing?" she asked. "You said you had business in Poland,"

"A job,"

"What kind of job?" she asked.

Vegeta sighed. "I have been hired to make a problem disappear,"

"Right," she nodded. "You said that's what you do, but that's really vague. So you make problems disappear, so you're like a wizard then?"

"Do not be silly," he sighed.

"I'm not," she insisted. "You're the one who won't give me any details. Can you make Yamcha disappear? I mean he's my problem… Oh,"

"Right," he nodded as watched the realization spread across her face. "I do not think that would be a good idea,"

"No," she agreed, feeling suddenly awkward in his arms. "So you… kill people on the side for money?"

"Not in so many words, but you could put it that way," he shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as helping those with problems."

"But you're killing innocent people,"

"Hmmn, most are not that innocent," he snorted. "I get rid of black mailers, and other types of low life."

"But who decides they're low life's?" she asked, turning so she could look at him. "The people who hire you? I'd be willing to bet they aren't much better themselves."

He shrugged. "It is not my business to do a background check to determine whether they are or aren't," he said. "If they were so innocent, they would not have found themselves in such a situation that someone felt my services were required. I am highly respected, never miss my mark and make good money doing what I do,"

Bulma shook her head at him, unable to come to terms with the fact that the man she was falling in love with was essentially a murderer if the price was right. It was unfathomable to her!

"You cannot be serious," he deadpanned. "You are that bothered by this?"

"Uhmm, a bit, yea," she replied, standing up. She needed to fix herself up so she wasn't a complete disheveled mess when they reached their destination. "That's not okay!"

He watched her open her suitcase and began rifling through it. "I am sorry," he said as he watched her and realized how truly agitated she was by this discovery.

"Sorry you told me, or sorry you do this for a living?"

"Both?" he shrugged, though he was not all that sorry that he killed people for money. It thrilled him. He loved researching them and following them for a few days, or even weeks in some cases, learning their schedules and deciding the best way to end their lives. Though most of the time, it was done by gunshot. Less chance of getting caught and he prided himself on keeping his marksmanship skills sharp.

"Then why can't you find something else to do?" she asked.

"I do not know," he shrugged. "I never thought to. I made a reputation for myself as an excellent marksman in the military; your husband can attest to that. There is no war, hasn't been for a long time and from the look of it, will not be another for a long time."

Bulma looked at him. It was so hard to believe that this man who was so gentle and who could make her body feel things she'd never thought possible was also a cold blooded killer in his spare time! "Does your wife know?"

"Does she know," he repeated back to her with a dark chuckle. "Of course she knows. She has even accompanied me and participated at times. She herself has been known to take on the odd job here and there, though it is more out of boredom than anything else."

"Unbelievable," Bulma sighed. "You two…"

"You two what?" he challenged. "At least we understand one another. Look at the mess your life is with your husband."

Bulma nodded and wiped away the tears she felt wanting to fall.

Vegeta groaned and stood up. He had not meant to sound so harsh or make her cry. "I am sorry, all I meant was neither of us is in an ideal situation, but at least I have my independence."

"Right," she nodded, though turned from him to resume going through her things, not even remembering what it was she had been looking for now.

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "It is not so bad," he said. "It is just a job, not personal."

"And that's why you're coming with me?" she asked. "You have a job nearby?"

"I do," he nodded. "Someone hired me to get rid of someone who is going to be a key witness in an important case,"

"So now you're not only killing someone, you're obstructing justice?" she asked, feeling even more disgusted.

"I suppose," he said. "It is not my business to know who is right or who is wrong. If the person who I am supposed to make disappear had hired me instead to get rid of the other individual, I would be taking that person out."

"Unbelievable," she said again, truly not sure what to think anymore. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to judge. I just thought I knew who you were… Apparently I know nothing. You don't come off as a cold blooded murderer. Aloof and reserved, yes, but not someone who would just kill people."

"I am a soldier and a mercenary and a sell sword, or hired gun I suppose," he answered. "I am sorry if that disappoints you,"

"I'm not disappointed," she said firmly, but paused a moment. "Alright, I guess I am, just a little. However your life is your life. It is not my business to judge you. I suppose the less I know about that, the better."

"As you wish," he replied. "I suppose my line of work is somewhat questionable."

"Just a little," she said, wrinkling her nose and holding up her hand and showing a small measurement with her thumb and pointer finger.

For right now, she decided she did not want to think about it.

-0-0-0-

They arrived at the train station on schedule. Vegeta wrote down where he would be staying, Bulma did not disclose her parent's address, but confirmed the date and time she was scheduled to go back home; she would be staying two weeks with her parents.

"You don't have to accompany me home," she told him. "It seems silly to stick around if you do not need to."

"I will wait for you," he confirmed.

Bulma looked at him longingly a moment before leaning in and kissing him one last time before leaving him. "Be careful doing whatever it is you're doing," she said. "I'll be very upset if you aren't here because something happened."

"Such little faith," he snorted, though he was joking. "I will be fine,"

They parted ways, Vegeta going back to his private room so that Bulma could exit on her own and no one who may know her or be there to meet her would see him.

She was greeted by her mother and father and their carriage driver.

"You are simply glowing!" Bulma's mother exclaimed as she greeted her. "Married life does agree with you after all!"

She held back a snort. "Things of late have been pretty good," she admitted and it wasn't a lie. Vegeta had breathed life into her again; though she was not sure how long that would last if she couldn't accept the fact of now knowing what he did for a living.

"Does she not look stunning, dear?" her mother deferred to her father.

"She looks as lovely as always," he smiled.

"Considering your letter asking to come stay seemed so gloomy, I'm surprised to see you looking so happy and cheerful," her mother said once they had entered the carriage and were on their way, not wasting any time with her nosy questions. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"What? No, mom!" She exclaimed. Though the thought of getting pregnant by Vegeta hadn't occurred to her until then and her stomach dropped at the notion.

"Are you certain, dear?" Her mother went on, carefully analyzing every inch of her. "You look absolutely radiant and are obviously having mood swings,"

"I'm sure, mother," she replied and caught herself from mentioning that one had to actually participate in intercourse with their spouse if they were to become pregnant. She had written her mother, requesting to come for a visit with every intention of telling her everything, but now that she and Vegeta had started messing around, she found she didn't care to for some reason. It didn't matter. What she couldn't get from Yamcha, she was getting from Vegeta in spades.

While she was disturbed and did not approve of what he did on the side for a living, at least Vegeta listened to her and didn't treat her like a child. It wasn't just the sex that had her drawn to him; although that was addictive and she craved it.

"Yamcha is too busy and away far too often for far too long for a pregnancy to occur," she settled on saying instead.

"All it takes is once," her mother shrugged.

"I guess," Bulma agreed and felt her stomach turn to a knot at the thought that she and Vegeta had been intimate several times and it could be likely that she could be pregnant, though she didn't feel any different. She just hoped that she had gotten lucky and nothing like that would happen. "Can we at least wait until we are home to have such a personal conversation?"

"Oh do not be such a spoil sport," her mother snorted. "I am not going to lie, I was hoping the purpose of your visit would be to announce something wonderful like a pregnancy! It is nearly Christmas time, a summer baby would be splendid, don't you think?"

Bulma refrained from rolling her eyes and chose to look out the window of the carriage instead. "Sorry to disappoint you, mother, but the purpose of my visit was to visit you two and get a change of scenery instead of remaining cooped up in that boring, old, huge house all by myself while my husband travels around all on his own."

"Bulma," her mother scolded her. "Do not be ungrateful and do not speak of Yamcha in such a way! He works very hard,"

"Right," she snorted, not refraining from rolling her eyes this time. "It's such hard work going to parties and balls, drinking and eating to excess and rubbing shoulders with boring, old, snobs,"

"Bulma!" her mother snapped at her in shock. "What has gotten into you?" She glared at her husband who was refraining poorly at chuckling at his daughter. "Do not encourage her!"

"Oh, nothing," Bulma sighed. "Except that I may as well not be married for as often as I actually get to see my husband."

"You are being very unfair," her mother said, shaking her head. "From what I've heard, Yamcha is doing extremely well and is working very hard to build a solid future for you both. He would surely be crushed if he heard you talking in such a way."

"From what you've heard?" Bulma asked, narrowing her eyes at her. "And what have you heard and from who?"

"Yamcha, of course," she shrugged.

"He writes you?" Bulma asked quietly, looking at her hands as she began picking at her gloves in agitation.

"Of course he does!" her mother confirmed as though her question were stupid. "He's very excited about his progress and he misses you very much while he's away."

"Right," she sighed heavily, trying to not become emotional. "He misses me so much he can write to my mother and not to me,"

"Oh, don't be that way," her mother snorted. "We're old friends,"

"What other way can I be?" she cried. "I live constantly in your shadow, you know! Nothing I do is good enough because he still cares about you!" She blew up at her, even though she'd decided she wouldn't bother telling her mother what a sham her marriage was. Maybe she needed to know and maybe, just maybe she would take her side for once. If she had such an influence on Yamcha, maybe her own mother was the only person who could set things in motion to make things alright. It was twisted and it was a long shot, but it might be worth it.

"Do not be ridiculous," her mother scoffed, waving her hand in dismissal. "You're just tired from the long train ride."

"Yes, that must be it," Bulma said bitterly in disappointment, watching the scenery as the carriage made its way to her parent's home. Apparently her mother didn't even want to hear her side; she should have known better that in her mother's eyes, Yamcha could do no wrong. She already wanted to turn around and go back home or look up where Vegeta was staying and remain there for the full two weeks.

The rest of the carriage ride passed in awkward silence; Bulma's mother tried a few times to strike up a pleasant conversation, but Bulma only replied with short, vague replies.

When they finally arrived at their home, Bulma decided to take a nap. It took her a long while to fall asleep, but she finally did. She slept for about an hour or two before getting up for dinner.

"Are you in a better mood?" her mother asked curtly, watching her daughter carefully.

"I might be, depending on where the conversation leads over dinner," she answered.

"I do not understand where all this animosity is coming from!" her mother exclaimed. "I have done nothing but look out for you and set you up for success-"

"Success?" Bulma spat. Apparently, her mother wanted to pick up where their conversation in the carriage had left off. "How have you set me up for success? Okay, you married me off to a guy with a ton of money, but you also married me off to a guy who is never home, has no interest in having a wife and a man who is clearly not over you. You married me off to a guy who sees me as not only nothing more than a child, but as the child he should have had with you!"

"Now that has to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," her mother shook her head in disgust. "Is that why you refuse to share a room with him? Because you have this silly notion in your head?"

Bulma's mouth dropped. Not only was Yamcha in contact with her mother and not her, but he was disclosing details of their private life to her as well? "I can't do this," she said, feeling deeply betrayed by both parties. She picked up her plate, reached across the table to serve herself, grabbed the open bottle of wine and exited the dining room without further word to her mother. She assumed her father was still in his workshop; it wasn't uncommon for him to be late for dinner when he was absorbed in one of his projects. Not unlike herself, she thought bitterly. Was that why? Because he was that unhappy with her mother? She snorted to herself; she wouldn't blame him!

She put on a pair of boots and trudged in the snow to her father's workshop with her plate of food in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other and no jacket, she realized when she was half way there.

Knocking once, as she usually did, she let herself in and of course, there he was.

"What are you working on?" she asked.

"Nothing too exciting," he said. "I am sorry, am I late for dinner?"

"It's okay," she shrugged, pulling up a chair and setting her plate down on a free spot on his work table.

"Your mother agitate you again already?" he chuckled.

"You could say that," she answered. "Let's just say, I am beginning to understand why you spend so much time in here, on your own. I do the same,"

"Do you, now?" he asked gently, going back to whatever it was that he was doing.

"I do," she answered. "I actually have a really exciting project at the moment,"

"Really? And what's that?" he asked, glad that his daughter seemed willing to visit with him and less agitated already.

"One of Yamcha's friends gave me an old gun of his to repair," she told him. "I don't know much about guns, but it's been a really fun project. I figured out what was wrong with it and ordered the parts from the local gunsmith shop. I should be able to make it good as new, hopefully,"

"Guns?" he repeated, his eyebrows raised, looking up at her in concern over his thick glasses. "Whatever would possess you to want to work on guns of all things?"

"Boredom," she shrugged. "I'm having fun with it anyway,"

"Well that's good to hear," he replied. "Just be careful,"

"I will," she nodded. "I'm always careful,"

He watched her quietly as she ate. "Are you alright?"

Bulma shrugged. "I'm fine," she answered. "I just never expected it to be this… hard is all,"

"It will get easier," he said, trying to be comforting, but not knowing what to say to help make things better. "He is kind to you though?"

"Oh of course he is," she said. "We get along alright, that's not the problem. The problem is he is never home, when he is and we do go out, he leaves me behind and goes to talk politics. He doesn't even try to include me in anything so it's not like I can even attempt to do better. There's more, but I'm sure you don't want to get into our personal life or lack there of,"

"I see," he said.

"He's not over mother, you know," she told him despite knowing that may be a bad idea opening that can of worms, however she had a feeling her father already knew that and would not be surprised.

"Oh, I know, dear," he said calmly. "I suspect your mother never got over him completely either. Not to say she's disloyal, she's never strayed. But I know a part of her heart lays with him as it always has and likely always will."

"And you're alright with that?" She asked.

"What other choice do I have?" He shrugged. "I have done everything to dote on your mother, she will not let me in close enough to truly spoil her. That's what I have you and your sister for; or had before you were married off and sent to live far away."

"I'm sorry, dad," she said.

"Oh what do you have to be sorry about?" He asked in a good natured tone. "You had little choice in the matter. I was hoping that with you married off to him it might make your mother happy and content with knowing that he was alright. That was always her big thing, she felt bad that her parents married her off to me and was always worried he would not be okay; bless her heart. Allowing him to take you, was her way of amending that and I did not agree, but you know how your mother is. Apparently nothing has changed and I have a miserable daughter instead."

"I'm not miserable, dad," she said.

"And I always know when you are lying,"

"I'm not lying," she sighed, though she was lying. She knew if Vegeta hadn't become such a large part of her life, she would be beside herself. She knew that way of thinking was extremely dangerous, as there was no way they would be together long term, but for the moment it was an escape and a distraction from thinking about everything that was wrong. "I just… No matter how many things and conveniences and luxuries surround me that I know I should feel grateful for, and I should be content, I just cannot get rid of the constant feeling of loneliness. I'm just frustrated. I feel like nothing I do is good enough because everything I do, he compares to her. I can't compete with that."

"Why sure you can," he insisted. "Your mother may be an amazing and dynamic woman, but you have many good qualities of your own that I am certain he would find endearing."

"He might if he would give me a chance and stop comparing me to her," she said, getting annoyed that while her father was sympathetic, he still truly did not understand. "I can't shine if he won't let me or if he can't see me as an individual or if he's never around."

"I see," he nodded. "Well, hopefully this is just a case of just needing to get used to one another, though I do recognize that the transition would be much smoother on you both if he wasn't so focused on his political stuff."

"Well, that would help, but I can't see that changing anytime soon," she said and she meant it.

Bulma finished her dinner and kept her father company as he worked on a locomotive project.

The next afternoon, two of her childhood friends came to visit at her parents place. One was the same age as her, the other a year younger than herself but the three were good friends, even if Bulma had always held them at arms length somewhat.

"So?" Asked Hilda, the girl who was her age. "You must tell us what it's like?"

"Oh, Hilda," Bulma rolled her eyes at her friend. "I'll do no such thing."

"But you're the first of us to get married!" Her other, younger friend Inga pressed. "We have to know! Is it as amazing as the romance novels say? I have an older sister who says it's terrible! It crushed me to hear that! It cannot be!"

Bulma pursed her lips and looked at the both of them, unsure what to say. Until she had been intimate with Vegeta, she hadn't been all that fussed about her experience with Yamcha; she'd only wanted that with Yamcha because he was her husband and why not? Bulma was a romantic at heart, now she had a husband, what else was she supposed to think or expect? "A lady never kisses and tells…" she said. "But, no, it's not terrible… Or rather, it doesn't have to be."

"Yes!" Inga clapped. "I knew it couldn't be! I mean, Lord Yamcha is so handsome, I'm sure he's wonderful!"

Bulma gave her a fleeting look. "Well, it takes some time, the first time isn't good. I mean it is for them, but not so much for us," she paused and wondered if that was true. If Vegeta had been her first, would it have been as unpleasant? She thought not. She supposed there would have still been the inevitable initial discomfort, but Vegeta seemed to like to take his time. Her first time with Yamcha had been awkward and uncomfortable and she supposed the only reason it had happened was because they had to legally consummate their marriage. He'd been considerate and respectful, but she hadn't enjoyed herself all that much, nor had she any of the other times they had been intimate. With Vegeta, however, it was different. It had been amazing every time. "But after that, if your man takes their time, it can be wonderful, mind blowing even."

Her two friends sighed in awe and looked at her with jealousy.

"I hope I am married one day to someone as handsome and wonderful as Yamcha," Hilda said in a dreamy tone.

At the bottom of her heart, Bulma wished for anything but that for her romantic friend. She hoped she found someone who wanted her as much as she wanted them.

Thankfully their conversation moved away from Bulma's bedroom and on to other things like local gossip. She hadn't given her two girlfriends much thought since she'd left and never thought she'd miss them, but she realized now, more than ever that she did.

Sure they'd always been silly and that was why she hadn't spent more time with them before; she'd much rather be working in the workshop with her father than gossiping and drinking tea, but the familiar carefree silliness that accompanied her now, distracting her from her life and her mother's prodding, made her realize even more how lonely she truly was married to Yamcha.

"You girls should come and visit me," she told them. "Yamcha is away a lot for long periods of time. It gets lonely up there all on my own."

"We could both meet a man!" Hilda said excitedly. "Then we could move and be near you and visit every day!"

"We could go to parties too!" Inga said.

"Well, I don't know that there's much there for men for either of you," Bulma replied honestly. "Most are married or are Yamcha's age or older,"

"Age means nothing, so long as my husband is handsome and has lots of money!"

"That's no guarantee," Bulma sighed at how stupidly naïve her friend was, though she hadn't been all that much different at one point. While she had objected to marrying Yamcha because of his age and the fact that she barely knew him, she'd hoped that the fact that he had lots of money would replace the lack of personal connection she wanted. It hadn't. "Money is nice, but if you have no emotional connection to the other person, you can feel even lonelier than if you are alone."

"Like you know!" Her friend laughed. "Ohh, Bulma has been married for six months and is an expert on everything. What do you have to be lonely for?"

"My husband is never home, for one," she snipped back. "Sure he's handsome and a gentleman and pleasant to be around… when he is around. The rest of my time, I'm alone."

"But from the sound of it, he more than makes up for it when he is home." Hilda laughed, winking and nudging Bulma. Both girls laughed.

Bulma shrugged. There was no point in getting into it and she changed her mind on missing them. Here she was, visiting with her two best friends and still feeling lonely. No one understood or seemed to want to understand. All they saw was perfect, rich, handsome Yamcha. What did she have to be miserable about? Nothing apparently.

Bulma spent the rest of her visit at her parent's place sleeping in, helping her father in the lab and avoiding her mother as much as possible. She was pushing for Bulma to make sure she got pregnant the next time Yamcha was at home and she was beyond annoyed.

Finally, one afternoon, she decided she needed to go for a ride to clear her head and possibly go into town where Vegeta had said he was staying. When she got to the stable, she was shocked and angered to learn that her reliable dappled grey mare had been sold after she'd moved. Her parents hadn't even given her the option of transferring her to her new home!

So she saddled up her father's old bay gelding and took him for a long ride along the countryside. She made her way into the city and to the hotel Vegeta was staying at, hoping to see him, but apparently he was out.

She left him a message letting him know that she had come to visit him, that she missed him and that she could not wait to see him when it was time to leave.

Feeling alone and somewhat dejected, she took the long, scenic route back to her parent's home and wished she had her own horse. How much more simpler and free would she feel if she could leave for a few hours? She could meet up with Vegeta any time she wanted without having to bother Roshi to tack up the horse at home for carriage.

The rest of her stay was spent with small talk with her mother, avoiding anything to do with Yamcha; she did not want to hear whatever motherly advice her mother had for her with regards to her marriage and it was not long before she decided she missed the large, boring home. She spent most of her time helping her father in his workshop, which she knew she would miss more than anything.

The morning of her departure had been rushed. Bulma had slept in late, much to her mother's annoyance and so breakfast had been rushed before they headed to the train station.

When they got there, she noticed Vegeta standing outside one of the first class train cars waiting for her. Her heart beat a little faster and her stomach did that usual pleasant flip of excitement when she saw him. She'd almost been expecting him to not be there.

When they approached, she decided rather than to ignore him, it would be alright to introduce him to her parents.

"Well what a surprise seeing you here?" she said to him, hoping he would follow her lead, though it wasn't an outright lie, she was surprised to see him. "Mother, father, this is Vegeta, a close friend of Yamcha's. They were in the war together many years ago, grew close and have remained good friends over the years."

Bulma's mother immediately scrutinized him thoroughly in a way that made Bulma very nervous. "I don't recall him ever mentioning you," she said.

"I'm sorry, and you are?" Vegeta asked, taking an immediate dislike to her. Of course, she was a very attractive older woman who you could tell that she had to have been strikingly gorgeous in her youth, much like her daughter was; however he could not stand women who assumed every man who looked at them wanted them. If she hadn't been Bulma's mother, he'd have made a point of seducing, bedding and dumping such a woman just to deflate her over important ego. He'd done it before, so it was not beneath his character. However, sometimes it was fun to blow these types off completely and act disinterested. That usually annoyed them even more than dumping them after the act.

"Bunny," she answered, her tone radiating with the tone of expectation that if he was a friend of Yamcha's he'd know exactly who she was. "Bunny Briefs, though my surname used to be Panchii."

Vegeta pretended to think about whether or not he remembered the name before he shook his head. "I am sorry, but I do not recall,"

"Then you are no friend of Yamcha's," she replied snidely.

Vegeta shrugged. "The only female I recall him ever mentioning was one that he had been engaged to long ago, however she dumped him for someone far richer and for a lifestyle she assumed he could never hope to provide for her. Was that you?"

Her mother nearly blanched at that. "We were engaged, but that is not what happened," she snipped at him.

"My deepest apologies for my mistake," he nodded respectfully at her. "Either I was misinformed or I was thinking of someone else."

"I am the only other person he's ever been engaged to, besides Bulma!" she informed him. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I had business in this city and am waiting for the train to departure," he said. "It is several hours long, and I wanted to stand and stretch my legs before having to be cramped," he indicated, showing that he was walking with a limp.

"You hurt yourself?" Bulma asked him.

"Hmmn," he grunted affirmatively.

"How did you manage that?" She asked in concern.

"I fell off a curb," he lied. "I will be fine. Just need to walk it off somewhat before we board. I assume this is your train back home as well?"

"It is," Bulma nodded. "I was visiting my parents,"

"How nice for you," he replied.

The train whistle sounded, indicating that it was time to leave. Bulma's things were loaded appropriately and she gave her father a hug and said her goodbyes to her mother before boarding.

"So what happened, really?" Bulma asked Vegeta once the train had departed, helping him down on the small bed in the room.

"Leapt off a building after hitting my mark," he answered, wincing as she removed his boot for him. "Underestimated how high it was,"

"Well that was stupid now, wasn't it?" She commented in a clipped tone. "You really are completely reckless, aren't you?"

Vegeta shrugged.

"You need to be more careful," she said more softly, soothingly rubbing his swollen foot; it was not broken, but it looked to be badly sprained.

"Why? Because without me there would be no one to pleasure you?" He asked jokingly.

Bulma gave him a look. "There is that, but I care for you for more than just that."

"Do not lie to yourself," he scoffed. "The foundation of whatever is between us is physical and that is all. If there is more to it to you than that, then it is best we part ways now because this will only end in disaster if you care for me."

Bulma looked at him. Was that how he really felt about her? "Well you are just as much my friend as you are my lover," she answered carefully.

"As are you," he admitted. "Just do not be feeling things that are impossible; that will only bring more hardship to us both either when we part ways or should someone discover us."

"I know," she said quietly, massaging his foot and ankle carefully, trying to hide her disappointment in his lack of sentiment.

He noted the disappointed and somewhat haunted look she quickly gave him before she looked back down at his foot pretending to be concentrating hard on it instead of being bothered by the thought of ending things between them. He thought for a moment that it would be best for them to end this now. She was already far more deeply invested in him emotionally than she should be, but he couldn't bring himself to end it just yet; if he was honest with himself, he really enjoyed his time with her beyond just the sex. "How was your visit with your parents?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Not as great as I'd hoped," she answered. "You being snarky with my mom didn't help matters any. I am sure Yamcha will be hearing about it,"

"Really? And why would he hear about it?"

"They still write one another," she said bitterly.

Vegeta chuckled. "Are you serious?" he asked. "Actually no, are you really all that surprised?"

"Yes, and no," she sighed, looking at his foot intently as she worked on it. "I just annoyed me and made me feel more trapped than I already am. I don't know all of what he's said to her, but she's on his side, not mine."

"I am sorry for agitating your mother," he said. "I could not help myself. Women like that…"

"Turn you on?" she asked, quitting rubbing his foot and looking at him.

"No," he said. "Women like you do,"

Bulma sighed and shook her head, feeling like he was only saying what he thought she wanted her to hear.

He sat up and reached for her, pulling her on top of him. "I was not attracted to your mother," he said seriously. "In fact, women like her, I take more satisfaction in ignoring them completely, than giving into and feeding into what they want. If your mother is agitated it is because I did not look at her as though I were mentally undressing her rather than what I said about not knowing who she was and then insulting her."

"She'll be mad over that for weeks," she told him, feeling some satisfaction in knowing that.

"Good," he grunted, kissing her.

Bulma wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. "I missed you," she said quietly.

"Hmmn, I know," he responded. "I am sorry I was not available when you called. I was out… doing research,"

"I thought as much," she nodded. "It's okay and probably for the better. If someone would have seen us, that would not have been good. I only came because I was upset with my parents for their nonchalant attitude over everything. My mother laughs and takes Yamcha's side in any objection I have against him and my father just seems to think that this is the way things are and hopefully they will get better as time goes on,"

"What were you expecting?" he asked, though not in an unkind tone. "You are married now, there is not much they can do. Were you expecting them to pack you up and bring you back home permanently?"

"No," she shook her head, not really knowing what she had been expecting from them. It was them after all that had made the decision for her that she marry Yamcha. "I suppose all I wanted was to not feel lonely or to not feel like my situation is hopeless; like I have some support and maybe my mother might talk to him since she seems to have more of an influence on him than anything."

"That would have been nice," he agreed.

"The only time I do not feel lonely or hopeless is when I am with you," she admitted.

His eyes hardened somewhat at that. "Do not become overly attached," he warned again.

"I know," she nodded, resting her head on his chest.

Vegeta sighed and brought an arm around her waist, caressing her lower back through her dress. He knew that she didn't have anyone else except him, but he did not want to end things with her just yet either; even if it was dangerous for both of them.

Bulma leaned up and kissed him lightly on the mouth, letting one of her hands slide down his shirt and into his trousers.

He growled appreciatively into her mouth as she gently massaged the thick appendage for a moment as she kissed him.

Both of them were fully aware themselves, even if they refused to admit it openly to one another that this thing between them had grown into something much more profound than a simple casual affair.

She collapsed on him and they both fell asleep together in each other's arms in the small single bed on the train. They awoke just in time to engage in another very quick, heated session and straighten themselves out appropriately before their arrival.