Hi there! I have been traveling all week, but I have also been making an effort to update regularly! So I am excited to be able to post this tonight! I hope you all have been having a great week! Enjoy! ^^


"What were you thinking, though - I mean really?!" Bulma was gripping the wheel to her helicopter hard enough that her knuckles were turning white. They'd been up in the air for 10 minutes on their way home, and she'd spent the entire time going off about Vegeta's behavior. "His father just died!"

Vegeta, who was sitting in the passenger seat, had his arms crossed and was glaring out the window. He'd been waiting for the tirade to come to an end, but it only seemed that it was drag on indefinitely. It was starting to wear on him. He hadn't expected her to understand, and initially that made it easy for him to ignore her badgering. But, as time continued, he could feel his patience slipping away. "Damnit, woman! The boy lacks pride!" He finally snapped, gritting his teeth.

Baby Trunks, who was buckled up in his carseat in the back, was listening with intrigue. He wasn't ready to speak on his own terms yet, but the infant was able to understand the majority of what others said around him. He was going to have to remember this word - pride. Whatever it was, his father seemed quite passionate about it!

"Did you listen to anything I just said?! His father just died!" Bulma, who had originally just been annoyed, had worked herself into a fit. "It's none of your business if he isn't feeling his best! In fact, he's allowed to feel bad! It's his right!"

Vegeta was on the verge of losing his temper, and he was fighting to keep it in check. He'd been going through enough changes as he adjusted to a life on Earth. He'd seen it in himself, and he'd become more accepting of what was to come. But the oath of a saiyan's pride was something he would never disown. He wasn't going to allow Bulma to cross the line and attack the honor that his people held so dear. He didn't expect her to completely understand, but he did expect her to respect his race.

"I had something very important to discuss with Chi-Chi, and you messed it all up!" The Bluehead was ranting now, her cheeks sporting a pale shade of red. "You invited yourself! And you chose the worst time to start acting crazy!"

That was it - what little bit of patience the saiyan had left had finally been used up. "Don't interfere!" He snapped. A familiar tone with the rage that was beginning to curl in his voice.

"No, Vegeta!" Bulma shot back. "Don't you dare tell me off right now! I'm pissed!"

"Big deal!" Vegeta snarled. "Since when are you not angry about something?! That doesn't mean shit!"

In the back seat Trunks let out a pleasant coo. Shit. Shit! Now, THAT was a word he'd heard before! From what he'd deducted, it was an incredibly naughty thing to say. But if his own father was able to use it so liberally, then perhaps it wasn't so bad after all...

"Watch your language in front of Trunks!" Bulma hissed before continuing. "I am not always angry!" Not only had she been fuming at having to leave Chi-Chi during such a vulnerable time, but she was now irritated that she was suddenly the one on the defense.

"Right, of course." Vegeta crossed his arms once again and turned back towards the window, looking out at the clouds as they flew.

"That's not even the point!" Bulma hissed. "You shouldn't have acted that way!"

Vegeta clenched his jaw to try and hold back his temper, but it was to no success. All that he wanted was to get through the flight in silence, and to not be badgered about something so relentlessly. Yet her tirade seemed to only be getting worse, and he just couldn't take it anymore! "ENOUGH!" He finally barked, turning to shoot a glare at his woman.

Trunks, who had been absorbed in the conversation up until that point, felt his little heart jolt at the fire in his father's tone. 'Oh no!' He thought. 'He's mad! He's REALLY mad!' Unnerved, the infant let out a heart wrenching sob.

"Great, now you've made Trunks cry!" Bulma looked over her shoulder, eyeing her son helplessly as she drove. She brought the helicopter to a stop, the vehicle hovering in midair as she reached into the back for a toy to give her son. "Don't worry sweetie, everything okay! Daddy's just being his mean old self!"

The vehicle was stopped and Bulma was distracted - this meant that he had his chance! The saiyan, who was desperately eager to get a moment of peace, took the opportunity to throw open his door.

"What are you doing now?!" Bulma gasped, looking up from her son to eye the saiyan prince as he threw his seatbelt off. "I cannot take you and your pestering any more! I'm flying myself back!" He snarled, and with that Vegeta jumped out into the sky. He charged up in an instant, disappearing into the distance with a trail of wind shooting out behind him.

Bulma fought the urge to yell, biting the inside of her cheek. 'Of course he would leave!' She thought bitterly. 'Of course, of course! He runs away from everything!'

..

She spent the rest of her flight back in a state of impatience to see the saiyan prince again. She hated having to leave disputes unresolved, and the longer she sat in silence the more bothered she became. Vegeta had said that she was always finding something to be mad about. Sure, he might have been saying this in an act of defense, but what if it was true? It just wasn't fair for him to speak things like that, not when she had 1,001 reasons to be mad at him.

SHE was the one who had tried so hard, for years, to make things work between them. SHE was the one whom he had run off on for months at a time, with not even a regular phone call to keep in touch. SHE was the one who had wasted so much of her time in an emotional state, constantly getting her hopes up only to have them broken yet again. He'd continuously been screwing her over in the time that they'd known each other, so what right did he have to say that Bulma was always mad about something? She was angry about valid things, so why did it bother her so much that he felt this way? There was a part of her that felt even more upset to think about it, but inside there was also an unmistakable sense of guilt.

Guilt - GUILT! As if she had been doing something wrong. Why should she feel guilty when he'd hurt her so badly, for so long? Either way, she was eager to see him again so she could finish giving him a piece of her mind, and then she'd finally be at ease.

It was because of this, then, that Bulma was a bit unnerved that Vegeta wasn't yet waiting for her at the Briefs residence when she landed her helicopter and went inside. After walking all through the house it was evident that he wasn't there, so she went out to the ship to see if he was training. Alas, the ship was empty as well, and Bulma returned to her yard feeling dejected. He'd told her that he was going to be flying himself home, but he hadn't specifically said when that would be. "He is so annoying!" She hissed to no-one in particular, placing her hands on her hips and looking up to the sky. "It's not fair!"

It was an unyielding state of anxiety that she was stuck in, attempting to distract herself from her mind as she gave Chi-Chi an apologetic phone call, took care of Trunks, and addressed things around the house. Despite her efforts, Bulma would find herself glancing out the window as if to see Vegeta hovering in the sky on his way back to the house. And each time she glanced to see that he wasn't there, the pit in her stomach grew even more dense. When the sun had disappeared from the sky and Bulma looked to the clock to saw it was nearly 8, she began to feel a bit faint.

"What if he doesn't come back?" She muttered, swallowing down the lump that was forming in her throat.


It was well after midnight when Vegeta stepped foot into the Briefs household. It'd taken him hours to calm down after his altercation with Bulma, and he waited even longer before making his return. The idea of another argument with his woman was enough to deter him from flying back - he'd even considered sleeping on a mountain that night. But as he thought of his woman and son, something inside wouldn't let him stay out. Although he wasn't exactly enthused about the prospect of having another futile argument, he knew that staying out would only result in even worse issues between the two. And the idea of being on even worse terms with his woman wasn't desirable in the slightest. So he had strategically waited until the sun set, thinking that perhaps he could get away with returning when everyone was asleep. She would most likely try to pick up where they'd left off the next day, which was not unheard of with his woman, but at least he'd have a peaceful night of to prepare himself.

After arriving at the house, Vegeta made his way upstairs without making hardly any sounds. There hadn't even been the creak of a floorboard. He was being excessively careful not to stir even the bugs that slept in the walls, and when the bedroom door had finally closed behind him the saiyan let out a breath of relief. He'd made it to the safety of his own quarters, and he couldn't wait to pull himself into bed.

Feeling successful, he eagerly pulled his shirt off over his head. He began to make his way to the closet, letting his pants drop to the floor as he went. Vegeta had taken a liking to the walk-in closets that were featured in every bedroom of the Briefs residence. There was enough space inside that he could comfortably take his time in selecting which outfit he wanted to wear each day, although this time he took no hesitation in grabbing a pair of pajama pants from a hanger. He was still dressed in only his boxers when he heard the bedroom door shutting from outside. Letting out a curse under his breath, Vegeta's muscles tightened... It'd been naïve of him to assume he'd gotten away with his plan - not when it came to evading her radar...

Knowing fully well what was waiting for him on the other side of the door, Vegeta poked his head out of the closet to see Bulma. She stood on the other side of the room with a scowl, her back pressed firmly against the wall. "What is it now?" He whispered, not wishing to wake any of the other inhabitants of the house - especially not Mrs. Briefs.

"It took you long enough to show back up." Bulma placed her hands on her hips, sporting her disapproval. Vegeta stepped out from the closet and took a look at her, a smirk forming at his lips. It was to his pleasant surprise that she was wearing that robe again. That white robe, with its thin material, and her full figure... It didn't leave much to the imagination as it sat snuggly on her frame.

"And why should it matter to you how long I stayed out?" Vegeta wasn't going to excuse himself this time - it was his right to be upset after she'd badgered him for so long. The saiyan, who was still nearly naked, strolled to his dresser and pulled open the top drawer.

He was turned away from Bulma now, and she watched the muscles in his back tensed as he dug around in the drawer. It was an instinct that her lungs had to tighten up when she saw his body. It didn't matter what state their relationship was in - she was utterly and helplessly attracted to him, and there was nothing she could do about it. Being in such close proximity to him while he was in such an exposed state would made her knees threaten to bend, but she fought back the sensation. She was more than just a little bit intoxicated with attraction, but the need to finish what they'd started earlier was enough to keep her on track. She'd been desperately waiting for his return so that she could get closure. Now that he was finally back, he still wasn't giving her the type of attention that she wanted, and it was getting to her. "We were having a discussion!" Bulma said, pointing a finger into the air. "You can't just leave in the middle of a discussion!"

Vegeta's shoulders rose as she spoke, and he stopped digging in his drawer. He could find what it was that he was looking for later. "That's what you call it? Yelling at me non-stop is considered a discussion. Good to know."

"There you go again!" Bulma hissed. She marched up to the saiyan and groaned through her teeth. "How dare you treat me as if all I do is find things to complain about!"

The dresser drawer had been shut, but Vegeta still didn't turn back around to face his woman. "When it comes to how you interact with me, then yes. That statement is true."

"No it's not!" She didn't understand why this bothered her so much, but it did. Bulma had never thought of herself in the way that Vegeta was describing, and it was too much for her to handle. She'd been angry with him, and she felt that all of her reasons to get after him were valid, so why did it bother her so immensely to hear him say such things? Why did she care?

As if he were reading her mind, Vegeta spoke. "Anyway, woman. Why does it matter to you?" He teased, and it was then that he finally turned to look at her. He'd known she was standing close to him, but he was unprepared for what seeing her so near would do.

Bulma was only about fifty centimeters away, and she was standing completely still with her fists to her sides. She was so close to him now that he was getting quite the view, her thin robe flat against her chest. In that same moment Bulma was watching Vegeta's torso, trying to mask the blush that was forming on her cheeks. When Vegeta took a step forward, she thought her heart was going to stop. She looked up to his eyes, and she could see a glint forming in them... A gaze that she hadn't encountered in a long time...

His lips feeling dry, Vegeta ran his tongue over them. His mind was beginning to race with the desires he felt in that moment, and was a struggle not to act on them. He wanted to - he wanted to bad, but he would never do something to his woman unless she indicated that the desire was mutual. He could feel as familiar instincts began to twinge inside, and the saiyan took a step back to put distance in between the two. "Well?" He finally said, looking up to her eyes. "Why does it matter how I feel?"

Vegeta's eyes were pitch black with lust, a determined expression planted in his cheeks. It always flattered her when she could tell what he was thinking about her. Enchanted, Bulma took a step to compensate for the distance he had put between them. She could hear her own heartbeat now, and there was a quivering in the pit of her stomach. "Because..." She whispered, taking yet another step to her man. She was still so relieved to know that he had returned, and a desire to feel him close was diluting her anger. She found herself wanting to be as close to him as possible in that moment, and there wasn't much stopping her.

Just as Bulma had recognized the look on his face, Vegeta was familiar with the expression in her eyes as she moved dangerously close to him. "Woman..." He grunted, trying to warn her off. The ape-like instinct inside was threatening to usurp his mind, and he was considering leaving the room to prevent such an incident. "Don't come any closer. I want you to step away..."

"Or else what?" Bulma wasn't one to be told what to do, so she made no hesitation in assuming his statement was a bluff. She took a playful step forward, shooting him a condescending smirk. Even if he had been serious and lost control of himself, would she have really cared? The question crossed her mind, and she was amused at how easy it was to discard such a thought. Only a few moments earlier she would have yelled something nasty just to prove a point that she didn't want him, but she was now completely unbothered by the idea of his skin touching hers. By now they were but a few centimeters away from one another, and she took in a deep breath. She puffed her chest out in a mock of his usual posture, placing her hands on her hips. "This is my house, and I can do what I want in it..." And with that, she held a finger up and poked him in the shoulder.

Vegeta's hand flew up and caught her wrist with rapid speed, and he raised an eyebrow. "You defy me, even when I warn you so generously..." His voice was low, and he pushed her arm back. Without speaking another word he grabbed her by the face and pulled her into him, slamming his lips against hers with ferocity. Bulma immediately let out a muffled groan, pushing herself deeper into his body and rubbing her palms over his chest. Vegeta took that as nothing less than encouragement. And so, with that bit of consent on her part, he lost all will to fight back the instincts that were taking charge from within.

Bulma didn't complain when Vegeta lifted her and carried her to his bed, placing her down in a sitting position and taking a step back. She didn't object when he pointed a finger and huskily instructed her to untie her robe - in fact, she obliged with fervor. Bulma didn't even protest when he climbed on top of her and ran a tongue over the arch of her neck - to the contrary, she let out a hiss and bucked her hips against his.

It was her behavior that Vegeta took as encouragement, so he continued on with not another thought of hesitation. This was an interaction he'd been craving for too long, and the more skin he touched, the more wild things felt. The robe, though pulled open in front, was still settled on her frame, and Vegeta ripped it off with hardly a care that the material might be ruined. Bulma let out a gasp, her skin stinging for a moment from the shock of his actions.

She attempted to grab at him, to return the attention he'd been giving her, but the saiyan clasped her wrist and pushed it back. "No-" he growled, his voice gruff, before pressing his face into her chest and giving her breasts an appreciative kiss. It was a kiss that he gave them - only one - before flipping her onto her stomach. He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her to her knees, and then he positioned himself over her.

The desire was so intense that he didn't care to prolong the experience, and when she let out a shrill moan as he entered he knew she felt the same way. There had been times when they'd had encounters like this that he'd taken the time to explore her body, appreciating each crevice of her skin before finalizing their act. She'd always made an effort to return the attention and he never really let her. He was always excited enough just by looking at her - he didn't need her to use her hands to work him into a state of frenzy. He'd rather participate in the main course of action than waste time on her playing with him. And as Bulma gasped below him, scratching at the blanket and pressing her face into the mattress to muffle her approval, Vegeta knew that her own body wasn't going to need much convincing in order to reach its peak. He was able to hold off long enough to feel her thrashing below him, throwing her head back in that familiar way that displayed her satisfaction. And after this moment of confirmation the prince allowed himself to give in to the fires that were blazing within, closing his eyes as he grabbed her hips and slammed one last time against them. His head was in a state, his body sinking and floating at the same time, his mind losing itself as chills ran through his spine and he was overcome by ecstasy.

A few moments later the two were laying side by side. Vegeta was panting, sweat trickling down his temples, when he pulled himself up to a sitting position. He sat beside Bulma, who lay gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling. The saiyan wiped at his forehead with his arm and licked his lips dryly, turning to glace at his woman. She was pulling a sheet up to cover her body, and her sweaty hair was swept to the side.

He'd been so caught up in his own lust that he hadn't even thought to hold himself back.

"Are you okay?" He asked breathlessly, suddenly feeling uneasy at the idea of his own strength. He wasn't sure how forcefully he'd handled her, and he knew there'd been times before when he'd accidentally hurt her during their encounters. Bulma simply nodded though, still looking straight ahead. It was as if she were in shock by what had just happened and wasn't ready to make eye contact.

After the saiyan caught his breath a bit more he stood, grabbing at his pajama pants that he'd left on the floor. He pulled them over his legs quickly, his mind racing. "I'll be back," He stated before turning to the door and making his way to the bathroom. Bulma was sitting up now, and she watched as the door silently shut behind him.

Inside the bathroom Vegeta used a damp towel to clean himself off, his mind distracted as he rubbed at his skin. He couldn't believe what the two had just done - especially considering how bad things between them had been as of late. Vegeta went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He looked down at his hands, callouses covering his palms, and he balled one into a fist. The aftermath of their affair felt much different than any of the other times they'd been intimate, and he looked up at the mirror to stare at himself in thought. There was a lot of pride welling within, although he was also a bit uneasy. In his bed was a beautiful woman, naked and breathless after an encounter they hadn't planned. There had always been an impulse inside that told him to run after moments like these, but now there was an even stronger urge to get in bed with her in make sure she wasn't hurt after how rough he might have been. What would he say when he walked back in to see her? How should he act? These questions wandered through his mind, and as the saiyan prince made the walk back to his room he was having trouble deciding on what to do. Opening the door was enough to make him take a breath of hesitation, anxious to see the beauty within to room for a variety of reasons.

It was because of this, then, that it should have been a relief when he finally opened the door. Unsure of how he would handle himself, the saiyan had been in a state of confused anticipation. So why, then, was he not pleasantly surprised to peek inside and see that his bed was empty? Why did it feel like a let down when he realized that she'd gotten up and left while he'd been away?

Damnit.

He hadn't thought to trace her ki as he took care of himself in the bathroom, and because of that he'd been caught off guard. He was now consciously making an effort to sense her whereabouts, and he knew she's gone to her own room.

'Well...' Vegeta thought for what must have been the thousandth time since he'd begun trying to get in Bulma's good graces again. This certainly wasn't how he'd been expecting his night to go.