Touching a Naked Flame

Chapter Fourteen
Bon Appetit

"Kakarot, get out here now, before I blast you out!" He tapped his foot impatiently. "And bring the brat as well, you could both learn a valuable lesson."

"Wait a sec…sheesh." A voice called from inside the house.

Goku and Gohan had been visiting regularly for the past two weeks; training and eating everything that they could get their hands on, and usually Vegeta wouldn't stand for it but he was gaining some benefit from the other Saiyans, mainly for sparring but they were also distracting his mind from her.He had come to terms with his desire for her, he had no problem with anything physical, but there was something more and undetectable and he wasn't prepared to dwell on the lingering thoughts.

As he stood on the lawn, arms folded across his chest and a hard scowl, he couldn't ignore the little creature perched on the fence beside him. He shot a glance at it, noticing an adoring look in its tiny yellow eyes, and listened to the repetitive chirping it was making. Ever since he had given it a microscopic fraction of his energy, the damn thing had been following him around, endlessly sitting on branches and fences nearby and causing him to feel edgy. He had never been stalked before, he half wished the woman would show the same persistence, but the fact that it was an animal and a male animal, was making him feel uneasy. It was a pest, but it didn't surprise him if the thing admired him, but by sharing his energy he had created a bond. Not a bond on his side, but it was clear that the bird was more than happy to follow him around all day.

He took another look at the black bird and grunted in an attempt to frighten it off, but the proud creature hopped along the fence and continued to chirp. Vegeta uncrossed his arms and waved his hand back and forth; his eyes not leaving the birds.

"Go away." He growled, while shooing casually.

If anyone knew about it, his pride would take yet another blow and he didn't know if he could take any more hits.

"Looks like someone has made a new friend." A sarcastic voice uttered from behind him.

Bulma had arrived home early from working in the lab and took a detour to the grocery store on the way home. She had a plan to lure Vegeta towards her, whether it would be a success would depend on her cooking skills and thankfully she had watched her mother several times during the years, so she guessed it couldn't be too hard.

He swung around to face her, looking at the two large shopping bags in her hands. The fraction of a second with which their eyes met was more than enough for Bulma to receive to right signs, but she vowed to play it cool, so she deterred her gaze and focused upon 'mini Vegeta'.

"What are you doing here?" Vegeta questioned, while scrutinizing her every movement.

Bulma made her way to the fence, towards the bird, dropping her shopping bags and placing an inviting hand out in front of her. To Vegetas delight, the bird scowled and hissed at her, which sent her a few steps back and provoked the attitude which he had become, somewhat, fond of.

"Hey!" She barked. "So, that's the thanks I get?"

A low rumble of a chuckle escaped Vegetas lips, causing him to jerk and turn away from her.

Irritated would be an understatement and Bulma bit her tongue for a moment, forcing back the foul language she wanted to scream and instead she tried to piece together the situation. The bird she had nursed for hours on end, had somehow taken to Vegeta, which could only be because of what he had done, but why it was so influenced by his self-righteous attitude was a mystery; it was a bird.

"Oh…I see what's happening here…fine, I don't care." She said as she flicked her hair, picked up her shopping bags and swept into the direction of the front door; colliding with Goku in the process.

"Ffeyy Bulmvva!" He said in a muffled voice, while holding on to her shoulders as she regained her balance.

He had, what looked like, a foot long baguette sticking out of his mouth, which her mother must have prepared earlier.

"Do you Saiyans ever stop eating?"

She unusually forgot to regard Gokus stupidity, but he always managed to remind her.

"Om coarse ee goo." He threw back the baguette, chewed for a moment and gulped. "Of course we do." He repeated, with a polite smile.

Bulma shook her head in disbelief at Goku; he was adorable and still so innocent, he would always continue to make her smile.

He generously took her shopping bags from her and walked in to the kitchen to place them on the work surface. Bulma smiled and followed behind him, watching the bounce in his step, which she was so pleased to see. She hadn't been accustom to such chivalrous behaviour and certainly didn't expect to see Vegeta replicate anything of the sort any time soon; never was a more likely possibility.

"So how are you finding your training?" She asked, staring at the back of the larger Saiyan.

"Couldn't ask for better!"

He spun around and grinned massively, waiting for Bulma to excuse him.

"Good. Well, if you need me-"

She was cut off by a loud grunt, coming from directly behind her. She didn't have to think twice about who created the intrusive sound.

"Stop blabbering and get over here, Kakarot. You're wasting time, clown!"

Bulma spun around, feeling the fury burning in her chest. He always had to interrupt her, even after finding some sort of common ground, he always retreated to his inconsiderate and self-centred attitude, with no regards for others at all.

"Vegeta!"

She shot a daring glare at him, sighed and turned towards Goku again.

"As I was saying. If you need me, I'll be in the sitting room, with a box of chocolates and a large glass of wine…" she said nonchalantly, disregarding the furious Saiyan behind her.

Gokus eyes widened at the behaviour between the two, he could see the similarities already and it was crazy that he had never noticed it until now. They were both fighting a power battle; Bulma was a strong female who wouldn't stand for any disrespect and Vegeta was a proud warrior who wanted more or less the same thing. Goku watched as they both stood there, reflecting the exact same pose, arms crossed and chin high.

"Haha…ok" Was all Goku could think to say as he headed outside.

"Hhnn." Vegeta grunted as he took a final glare at the back of Bulmas head, before spinning round and stomping after Goku.

The room soon fell silent and Bulma sighed in relief, but just as she went to park her tired body down, Gohan appeared, with palpable gloom looming over him. The kid was getting bigger every time he visited and Bulma was beginning to realise that she was getting older, not old, but older.

She placed her elbows on the work surface behind her, leaning casually, and watched him as he strolled across the kitchen and towards her.

"Hey kid. You not going out there to play too?"

He looked up at her with his puppy like eyes.

"Nah. I thought I'd leave my dad and Vegeta to fight…I'd only get in the way." He spoke quietly and glanced down at his feet.

There was no way that Gohan was thinking like this. Bulma leaned across to the fruit bowl and grabbed an apple.

"Gohan…I've seen you fight. Why would you say something like that?"

The memory of Vegeta battering Gohan to a pulp flashed in to her mind, causing her to frown and roll her eyes. It was only a year ago, yet she was seeing Vegeta in a different light, she couldn't imagine him doing something like that now; but the truth was, he probably would, she knew there was very little progress when it came to his sadistic behaviour, which ultimately left her questioning her own mental health. Why does she have feelings for this person again?

"Oh uh…Look." She placed the untouched apple back in the fruit bowl and walked towards Gohan, whose eyes were still glued to the floor. "Vegeta is all hard and cold on the outside, but I know he's just putting up a front. Don't worry about him, kid. He's just depraved."

She laughed at the last part of the sentence, but hoped to God that Gohan didn't interpret her crude way of thinking, but he was a clever kid and the blush which glowed on his cheeks proved her calculations to be correct.

He snapped his head up and pulled a small but sincere smile.

"Hmmm…ok. Thanks Bulma."

"Don't sweat it."

He scarpered out the kitchen and Bulma felt quite satisfied with the way she handled his little dilemma. It was a serious matter and under human circumstances, any grown man pulverising a young boy was completely unforgiveable, but Gohan was a strong kid and she had high hopes for him; he was Gokus son.

Aladdin was always a winner when it came to Disney films and Bulma was singing along merrily to 'Prince Ali', and occasionally nibbling on a 400g bar of chocolate. She was completely relaxed, despite the racket going on from outside. She heard a few smashes and cracks but refused to look out the window, it wasn't her problem and Vegeta would have to take full responsibility, but she knew her mother would always wind up cleaning after him.

She swayed from left to right, clicking her fingers and humming along, her moment of pure glee flowing freely into the afternoon.

"Hey Bulma. Look who's here."

Goku was standing in the arch of the door, covered in cuts and bruises, with Yamcha standing beside him, a dumb look on his face.

Bulma froze and stared at the two men, waiting for the shock to set in. She had been avoiding Yamchas calls and visits for weeks now and she hadn't intended on speaking to him today of all days, not while she was watching Aladdin anyway. A sudden thud of depression hit Bulma in the head and she regained her focus, noticing the uncertainty between the two men.

"Hm? Yamcha!" she said falsely, gesturing him over.

She didn't want to see him at all, she never did and she was furious that Goku would just invite him in to her home, but she couldn't blame him, how was he to know?

"Hey come and sit down. I'll just go and get you a drink!"

She shot up and trudged into the kitchen, hooking Goku and reeling him in with her.

"Why did you let him in?" she whispered, "I don't want to see him."

Goku stared at her with wide eyes, trying to judge the truth in her tone.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know." He pleaded, while scratching the back of his head.

"Well, you should ask me before you go on inviting people into my home."

"But it's Yamcha…"

"Yeah I know." She sighed, "Urgh…Never mind. You'll just have to hang around for a while longer, in case it gets nasty." She said sternly, while pointing a threatening finger at Gokus chest.

"Ok. I guess."

She walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a glass and handed it to Goku.

"Here, hold this." She almost shoved the glass into his chest.

"Why don't you both get a room a just get it over with." A gruff voice chuckled from the other side of the room, causing the pair to look over simultaneously.

Vegeta, similar to Goku, was covered in cuts and bruises, but he hadn't fought Kakarot, he was saving that for another day. It was the brat which inflicted these wounds and he sure as hell had gotten a lot stronger since the last time they fought; still nothing in comparison.

He hadn't expected to walk in on the woman and Kakarot acting all suspicious together. He felt something peculiar within him, provoking him to intervene and deter any further advancement between the two. Kakarot had a mate, but Bulma was something different and it wouldn't surprise Vegeta if he took a chance and tried to lure her in to his jolly circus.

Bulma rolled her eyes and walked over to the fridge, clawing her way through the contents and placing different beverages on the work surface.

Vegeta shot a quick glance at the sitting room, witnessing the scar faced buffoon sitting idly and staring at the screen in front of him.

"What's he doing here?" He said, sniffing the air and grimacing.

Bulma spun around and stormed over to Vegeta.

"Shhh…Could you quieten your voice. He's only in the next room." She whispered under strained voice.

"So what. He's an idiot." He said, just as loud as before.

Bulma glared at him, standing inches away from his face, and watched as his eyes wondered over to Goku.

"And what are you still doing here? Don't you have to appease that harpy of yours?"

He glowered at Goku, mainly because he hated him and wanted to obliterate him, but also because he was receiving more of the woman's attention than he was.

"Hm. I should go home. Chichi can get pretty angry." He threw a sorrowful look at Bulma.

She wasn't buying it and she was sick of these 'so called' warriors acting so pathetic and needy all the time.

"Don't worry." She said reassuringly, "I told Gohan to tell her you were staying a while longer anyway." She grinned.

"You did?" he said, dumbfounded.

"Well, Gohan needed to go home and study and I guessed you were still busy training, so I told him to let Chichi know."

"Oh, well, I guess that's ok. Although she'll be mad that I let Gohan make his own way home." He said shyly, trying to worm his way around the situation.

"Are you kidding?" she scoffed, "That kid flew the entire length and breadth of planet Namek!"

"Yeah, he did." Goku said proudly, followed by a small chuckle.

Vegeta frowned severely, astonished that they were wasting their time with such trivial chatter and yet again, Kakarot was creeping his way into her affections. He wouldn't stand for it. They were carrying on like he wasn't in the room at all; he was a Prince for God's sake!

With that, he shoulder barged into Bulma, knocking her a few paces back, causing her to yell out in protest.

"Who do you think you're pushing?"

She attempted to shove him with the flat of her hand, but unsurprisingly failed to move him an inch.

He stared at the hand which touched his bare shoulder, then back at Bulma.

"Don't touch me." He stated calmly.

"I'll touch you if I want to." She chided.

"I know you want to, but I'm telling you not to." He grinned, flashing his teeth.

Goku attempted to cover his laughter. Their relationship was slowly, yet surely, blooming in a 'Bulma and Vegeta' kind of way and it was easy to see that things were flowing accordingly.

"I'll go and sit with Yamcha." Goku murmured and stalked off in to the sitting room.

Bulma watched as Vegeta began to dig through the fridge, before pulling out a large trifle and looking at it with hungry eyes.

"Don't eat that. It's for after dinner!"

She attempted to steal it from his conniving, evil hands, but he quickly pulled it away from her and dipped his bare hand into it, slowly.

She grimaced slightly, unsure with Vegetas current behaviour. Was this an attempt of being seductive or was he just acting like a dick? She decided to go with the latter.

"Urgh."

He removed his hand and briskly shook off the cream, before placing the bowl on the work surface.

"You didn't answer my question. What is that imbecile doing here?"

That was weird…She thought to herself as she stared at the destroyed dessert.

There was a slight pang of jealously in Vegetas words, which sent a shiver down Bulmas spine. He actually wanted her affections, or it seemed that way.

"I don't know. I guess he's here to see me." She sighed.

"Hnh."

He was relatively satisfied with her lack of enthusiasm and decided to give the situation a lack of concern.

"Why, you jealous?" she teased and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Ha!"

Maybe she was right. Maybe jealously was the strange sensation he was feeling, but he couldn't dwell upon such an inconvenient emotion, he was already wasting his time trying to deter her from Kakarot, much to his displeasure. But he did it and he was still waiting for her to ask them both to leave, yet she didn't.

Bulma simply winked at him, knowing it would unnerve his little Saiyan self and she spun around, back to the fridge.

"My parents are out on yet another expedition, so I'll be cooking tonight."

"Oh great." He retorted, displeased by the turn of events.

"Hmph. Say what you like, but once I whip up this fine cuisine, you'll be begging me for more…food that is."

She bent down to the bottom of the fridge, giving Vegeta an eyeful, causing him to gulp and place crude thoughts into his mind.

"Unlikely." He forced the words out, his eyes still fixated on her backside.

Unimpressed, Bulma stood up, slammed the fridge door shut, shot a vicious look at Vegeta and stormed past him and into the sitting room.

Vegeta exhaled in relief and watched as she sat down next to the clown and the weakling. There was no point in becoming angry over such an insignificant and wanton creature, but he was kidding himself now and had accepted that she was more than just a human. Yet he was still battling his conscience, screaming at himself to stop and focus on what is more important, but he was beginning to think of her first, then he would think of his training. He was still convinced it was a physical attraction, but a small part of him knew otherwise.

As the afternoon slowly grew into the evening, Bulma, Goku and Yamcha had been sharing stories for hours and it was almost unbelievable that there was ever any tension between the two. Bulma knew otherwise and with Goku present, she was only postponing the inevitable.

She eyed Goku and subtly nodded her head and to her surprise, he received the message and stood up abruptly.

"I better get going. Chichi 'll kill me" He giggled.

"Oh ok…" Bulma said, trying to sound convincing, before standing up and embracing him.

"See ya guys!" He hollered, placing two fingers to his forehead and disappearing.

The room fell silent and Bulma sighed before sitting back down next to Yamcha.

"Boy, wish I could do that instant transmission thing." He said nervously.

"I'm guessing you didn't come here to share stories and sing along to Disney films." She cut him short.

"No."

"Well, go on." She sighed again, putting a palm to her forehead, disregarding any of Yamchas emotions.

Offended, Yamcha sat straight at frowned.

"I didn't come here to annoy you either. I just came to drop off some things you'd left at my place."

He produced a large sports bag from behind the sofa and placed it on Bulmas lap. She jerked slightly and her eyes widened at the weight which was now resting on top of her.

"My things?" She said as she slowly unzipped the bag.

It was over loaded with shoes, clothes, deodorants and bits of make-up.

"I'm tired of behaving like this. I've accepted it now." He said confidently.

Bulma tore her eyes away from the bursting sports bag and they met Yamchas.

He continued, "I wanna be the way we were. Minus the romantic side." He smiled.

There was barely any romance in the relationship to begin with. They were young and didn't have a clue what they were doing, they didn't realise how much their changing circumstances would inflict upon their relationship, yet it did and fate had made them this way. Bulma was irritated. Why it had taken Yamcha months to come to this obvious conclusion was beyond a joke, but at least he was seeing things her way; which was for the best.

"Yeah. That's what I've been trying to do." She replied calmly.

At the top of the staircase, stood Vegeta, listening clearly to their conversation and not being completely aware of why he was doing such a 'human' thing.

"I know. I feel like an idiot, it's kind of embarrassing." Yamcha continued with a blush.

A weight dropped off Bulmas shoulders and she felt relieved that he was there. It was like a door had been unlocked and she was free to walk through it, that was the only way she could see it.

"Don't worry about it. I'm happy you're talking to me about it. It's been strange, but I know we're better off as friends. Trust me." She laughed.

"Yeah."

His smile quickly faded in to a look of concern and he took Bulmas hand into his, which she happily allowed him to do.

"Just promise me you won't do anything stupid." He pleaded.

Bulma arched an eyebrow and stared at him. What does he mean, 'don't do anything stupid'? If it's in regards to future boyfriends, then that is none of his concern, surely?

"What do you mean?" she pulled her hand away.

"Nothing. Just be careful."

Was Yamcha giving her some sort of feeble sex talk?

"I'm not a kid, Yamcha." She scoffed.

"Yeah, I know, but…"

"Hm?" She cut him short; he really needed to get to the point.

He snapped his head up and glared into her eyes.

"Just watch it with Vegeta, ok?" he snapped.

"Vegeta?" She laughed aloud.

Half laughing in fear that Yamcha may have sussed out her crush on the alien killer and half in disbelief, that he would have the audacity to tell her who she can and can't become involved with.

"You have nothing to worry about." She continued to laugh.

"Hmmm…" He uttered, not entirely convinced.

Yamcha understood that the two were living together in a platonic environment and Bulma had assured him that she hated the guy, but there was a fine line between love and hate. Besides, they were too similar and it was creepy.

"Seriously?" She barked, "The guy is impossible and has no time for anyone but himself, believe me!"

Yamcha was concerned about the meaning behind the latter part of that sentence. Had she tried to gain some of his time?

"He's just a creep, that's all."

"He's not a creep. He's just a complicated guy." She sighed.

"That's for sure." Yamcha scoffed.

Bulma feared that if they spoke about Vegeta any longer, Yamcha would grow suspicious. It was already looking that way, otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned Vegeta at all, but she was unsure why she was denying such a thing to begin with. Could she admit her true feelings?

"Right." She shot up out of her seat. "I better start dinner, I'm starving."

Yamcha imitated her actions.

"Well, I better go anyway."

"You sure you don't want to stay for food?" She offered sincerely.

"Nah, it's ok. I'll eat later."

"Awh. Ok…"

"See you later Bulma."

He quickly hugged her, walked past and out the house, leaving her completely astonished.

As she heard the front door shut, she walked into the kitchen and stood in the centre; pondering about the events which had passed.

"Hm. Well, that was weird." She muttered to herself.

A loud grunt reverberated through the corridor and sounded from up the stairs.

Bulma jumped and stormed to the bottom of the stair case.

"Were you listening to the entire conversation?" she asked, furious.

Vegeta was appalled by her behaviour, throwing herself at the weakling and mocking himself in the process. This jealously thing was a real pain in the arse and he didn't have time for it. The best he could do for now, was to ignore her, so he stalked off towards his quarters.

Due to the lack of response, Bulma assumed Vegeta was having yet another hissy fit, so she shrugged and left him to his own devices; for now. Besides, she had this dinner to cook and for some bizarre reason, she was genuinely looking forward to preparing it.

She clawed the contents of the fridge again, revealing and packet of tuna steaks, a large packet of king prawns, some pre-made potato wedges and an array of salad.

She stood up and glanced at the items on the work surface, before clapping her hands together and nodding.

"Right. Time to cook."

The grill was splattered with grease and the work surfaces were covered in stray lettuce leaves and bits of shell, left from the prawns. Bulma skilfully plated up hers and Vegetas dinner, giving him an extra helping of tuna steak of course, and she shuffled over to the bottom of the stairs to holler.

"Vegeta!" she inhaled, "Dinner is ready!"

After a few seconds of utter silence, she concluded that he was either showering or had gone out, but she was too starved to care and she didn't spend over an hour creating such a treat for it to be left cold. She whipped up her plate and made her way into the living room. If Vegeta couldn't be bothered to get his dinner, then the flies can have it, she didn't care, as long as she had her own; although, her plan to beguile him with her cooking skills was well and truly thrown out the window.

Bulma belched as she placed her empty plate on the table and she relaxed back into the sofa, exposing her newly bulging stomach. Vegeta appeared at the arch of the doorway, the plate in his hand and deep frown on his face. His hair was dripping wet and he was sporting the loose boxer shorts again, causing Bulmas eyes to widen in admiration. He looked exceptionally attractive with wet hair, his facial features were more apparent and his hair glistened with moisture.

He wavered in the doorway, half tempted to eat in his room, but he was tired and couldn't see any satisfaction in eating alone anymore. So he sat down beside her, causing her to jump in her seat. He wasn't impressed with her behaviour when she was engaging in conversation with the weakling. Why did she laugh when he accused her of being involved with him? It irritated him, but he would have been even more so if she would have admitted about their encounters together. So why was he bothered?

The meal she had prepared, over half an hour ago, was now cold, but he dug into it regardless of its temperature.

"You like it?" she added, "See it as a thank you gesture." She smiled widely.

He tore into the cold meat, and glanced at her, noticing how alert she was.

"Hn." He swallowed, "For what?"

Why would she want to thank him?

The truth behind the matter was for helping restore the health of 'mini Vegeta'; as feeble as it sounded, but she didn't want to admit that and she knew he had no interest in her reasoning anyway.

"Nothing. I'm just gunna take that as a, 'Yeah, Bulma. You're the best cook in the galaxy!'"

"Shut up." He grumbled as he continued to chew on the tough meat.

"What's with the sour attitude?"

She was asking a ridiculous question.

"Do you ever stop talking?" He retorted.

"Do you ever show an ounce of gratitude? God, Vegeta, I'm getting pretty sick of your bouncing mood swings."

She turned away from him and watched the T.V screen, which was now showing 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'; provoking a horrified look from Vegeta.

It didn't take long for Bulmas gaze to return to Vegetas toned physique, his body flashing under the dimmed light and his hair slowly returning to its usual gravity defying stature.

He immediately felt her eyes boring in to him, causing him to smirk and catch her gaze.

"You're laughable." He uttered as he placed the empty dish on the table.

"H-wha?" she blinked to focus.

"You laugh at the idea of associating yourself with a prince. Yet here you are, once again, drooling over me." He said coolly, with a false look of displeasure.

A moment of guilt passed Bulma and she barely felt it, but she only laughed out of nervousness. Was it possible that Vegeta had been hurt by her attitude towards him? He shouldn't have been earwigging anyway.

"Ha, don't get ahead of yourself." She said elusively, while staring at the seven dwarfs dancing on screen.

"Oh, I won't. If anything, I'd be lowering my standards." He returned.

"Oh really?" she hit back, slightly hurt.

Her temper was flaring once again, which sent familiar feelings through his body, he found that side of her the most alluring, minus her body

"Yes, really."

"Bah. You're not the only one with pride ya know?"

She said before getting out of her chair and sauntering out of the room, leaving Vegeta with seven dwarfs, singing about, what seemed like, a simple journey to work and why they had to sing about it, he didn't know.

He guessed that Bulma was hiding something from him, but what, he couldn't determine. She was edgy and would usually put up a greater fight, her performance was futile and he felt quite wary of her alluding behaviour.

Maybe it was time to test the waters.

Bulma cleaned the spots of grease and food off her skin and jumped into her pyjamas, readying herself for the continuation of Disney films galore. As she made her way out on to the landing, she came across Vegeta, waiting patiently against the wall opposite her room. Startled, she gasped and her stomach flopped with excitement, in the knowledge that he was waiting for her. Despite the palpable tension, she attempted to lift the mood.

"Did you enjoy it? The food?" she elaborated.

"It sufficed." He grunted.

"Again, I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."

The atmosphere was strangely awkward and she wanted to leave, but curiosity bit her and she did no more than take a few apprehensive steps away, towards the top of the stair case. Vegeta, wearing very little, gathered his sense and barricaded her way of escape, by advancing towards and in front of her.

"Shouldn't you be continuing your training or something?" She asked, trying to manoeuvre her way around him.

"No." he replied.

"Oh…" she said nervously.

There was something about these encounters which was becoming all too repetitive, but Bulma never ceased to display an unfamiliar nervousness around Vegeta when he was…acting up.

He pushed his chest into hers, pushing her back and eventually crushing her against the wall, so he could place his hands either side of her body. This tempting position was too proposing for Bulma and she knew what was coming, but she also knew that Vegeta wouldn't initiate anything entirely.

"So, we're doing this again, huh?" She tried to hide her enthusiasm under a sigh and a lack of eye contact.

"We're not doing anything." He stated, while devouring her body with his eyes.

He was tired of their actions being disrupted by either, bodily malfunctions or that idiotic cretin she calls her mother, and now proved the perfect opportunity to do what he had been longing for months now. Despite a slight dizziness, which he suspected was his own arousal; he was ready to take this woman where she stood. No Kakarot or weakling, or anyone, could disrupt them now. He had her complete and focused attention.

"Really?" she said in a whisper.

Bulma instantly closed the gap between them and caught his lips in a soft kiss, before he gradually returned it by gracing her lips with his tongue. He grabbed on to her hips and pressed her further on to the wall, their bodies completely trapped together and she locked her arms around his neck; despite her own being cranked in an uncomfortable angle.

Their tongues intertwined, his stroking her soft palate, making her tremble and sigh in to his mouth. Their actions seemed natural and Vegeta seemed just as keen as she was. Their physical contact wasn't the problem; it was post the activities, when Vegeta would return to his shell and become a recluse yet again. This stirred an uncertainty in Bulma; if she went all the way with him, how would he behave after such a commitment? In her eyes, sex was quite important and she didn't throw it around to anyone, in fact, Yamcha was the only person she had slept with. So it frightened her to think that Vegeta could just turn out to be one of many, another notch on the bed post. She knew what type of girl she was, but she was changing, she was chasing after a mass murderer, knowing that she could easily become hurt, but she was also very head strong herself and if Vegeta took one step out of line, she wouldn't let him live another day.

As their breathing and hands became frantic, Bulma took it up a notch, trying desperately to avoid the unbearable sensation she was feeling in her stomach. She placed her fingers delicately on the rim of his shorts, slowly easing her hands in and feeling the heat emanating from his groin.

Vegetas dizziness was overtaking his mind and his stomach began to lurch. He felt furious with his bodies reaction and hoped to God this was a natural response, but as he felt her finger tips stroke his sensitive, fully functional, organ, he shuddered and a wave of nausea flew over him.

He leapt back and placed one hand over his mouth, while keeling over and hitting the floor. His stomach lurched again, causing him to wretch and feel the sweat pouring down his face.

Bulma raced to his side and tried to grab his free hand, but he knocked it back aggressively. It was her fault he was like this.

"Are you ok?" she asked, panic sickened.

He shot up and pushed her out the way, running into his room and slamming the door shut. Bulma gasped and followed him, realising the cause to his sudden sickness.

I've poisoned him!

"Vegeta, are you alright?" she said, entering his room and thumping on the door of the en-suite.

She could hear a lot of wretching and vomiting and she desperately wanted to alleviate his suffering. Now, she felt guilt.

"Get out of here!" he wretched again, "You've done enough!"

"No, Ach."

"Is this your idea of a joke?" He questioned genuinely.

Bulma felt guilty, but she didn't intend of giving him food poisoning. Wouldn't she also have it if the food was cooked poorly?

"No…I cooked everything perfectly…Otherwise I'd be sick too."

She did make a valid point, but he was preoccupied with shaking and vomiting for eternity, to take anything she said as the truth. If she would have let him eat what her mother had prepared, he wouldn't be in this situation and he was frustrated by being torn away from their sexual activities, once again. It was becoming almost laughable, in an insane and deluded way.

His throat began to burn and the raw taste of sea food was provoking his stomach to lurch further. She couldn't see him like this.

"I don't want to hear anymore. Get out!" he ordered.

"Maybe if you'd come down when I called you, and not half an hour later, you wouldn't be like this now. It's your own fault." She huffed and crossed her arms.

The door cracked open, revealing Vegeta, hunched against the bath tub, his eyes blood shot and sweat pouring down his drained skin. Bulma took one look at him before rushing to the sink and pouring him a glass of water.

"Drink this." She pushed the glass in to his arm.

He didn't have enough energy to protest, so he grabbed the glass and gulped down the liquid, feeling it lubricate his burning throat and sending a sense of relief inside him.

"You think that's the worst of it?" she questioned sheepishly.

He didn't look at her, only nodded. He was certain his body would fight off the illness quickly, as he'd been sick before and it took him no longer than half an hour to overcome the nausea.

Bulma nodded and accepted that he wished to be left alone; she strolled out and sighed in disbelief. Any human with food poisoning would be sick for hours or even days, typical Saiyan to feel fine after five minutes. He was fully capable of looking after himself, but she wanted him to need her and even when he was most vulnerable, he didn't need her.

Vegeta retreated to his bed for the night, as his body had taken a severe internal beating, so he vowed never to trust that woman's cooking again, even though he guessed it was his own fault. Nevertheless, he grabbed her attention and the look of horror on her face was rather entertaining.

The duvet covers felt cold and light against his burning skin and he wriggled his way in between them, ready to settle down. He released a heavy sigh as he felt her ki approaching, quietly and trying to be stealthy. This always amused him, the effort she made, despite him being able to sense her at all times.

Fool.

The door gradually creaked open and he waited for her to show herself, which she did gradually; her eyes big and blue in colour and her skin blushing with embarrassment.

"Are you ok?" she whispered, looking over curiously.

"What do you want now?"

"I dunno." She looked at her feet, "I feel guilty."

"Ha. Pathetic." Why would she feel guilty? She almost looked sympathetic, when he could handle anything she threw at him, well, most things.

"What I meant to say is, even though it wasn't my fault, I'm sorry about you getting sick." She said quite proudly while walking to his bed side, stirring another flush of sweat over Vegeta.

He raised a sharp eyebrow at her and inched his body away from her close proximity. She was fascinating and amusing and similar to himself. She could barely admit to a mistake (which she didn't really make) but she forced a pathetic and unnecessary apology upon him.

Before he could react, she was pressing her lips gently against his hot cheek.

"Gah." He spat, while pulling away from her touch and wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

"You need to get some rest. You look terrible." She said with a smirk, partially due to his childish yet cute reaction and partly because it was true.

He proceeded to wipe his hand on the bed sheets, as if she had literally spat a toxic substance on his face and his grimace faded in to a smirk.

"That is mutual information, woman." He said snidely as he watched her smile fade into a solid frown.

Without further curse words being release, she spun around and left the proud Saiyan to recuperate from his fatal illness.

Shutting the door gently on her way out.