The month of August brought over 5.5k views to The 7 Year Gap. This is amazing! I'm so flattered to know that it's been looked at that many times. Thank you everyone for your amazing support! ^^

I've also been trying my hand at oneshots. I published one a few days ago, called "Anyone But Him". I appreciate the feedback on that story, too! I may be posting a few more in the coming weeks, so please keep an eye out for those. Thanks!

A glass of water was dripping with condensation, and Bulma gripped it awkwardly. She sat with her back reclined against the headboard of her bed, Vegeta still perched near her feet. They watched each other in silence as the Bluehead sipped her drink. It was hard not to feel somewhat suspicious as to the reason behind this surprise visit. Being woken up in the middle of the night to have a "talk" would certainly do that to anyone. She felt his eyes on her, could sense that he was patiently waiting for her to finish her water, and she gulped it quickly so they could get their conversation over with. "So," she said, placing her empty glass on the bedside table. "What is it?"

The Saiyan didn't avert his gaze from Bulma for the entire time that she'd been drinking, and when she asked this he tilted his head to the side as if he were considering the response. Bulma waited, licking the inside of her lips in anticipation. Vegeta really could be quite handsome, couldn't he? The way his eyes were resting on her made her feel as if they were piercing her very core, analyzing every fiber of her being. Such a sensation could be quite intimidating – but it could also be rather titillating.

"What is it?" She repeated, her voice softening as she looked down to her lap. She could feel a blush creeping up as his eyes continued to survey her form. She had a few good ideas of what he might be thinking – perhaps of the previous night that they'd shared together?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Vegeta spoke.

"How does it feel?"

An eyebrow raising, Bulma looked up in surprise. "What?"

"Your face… how does it feel?"

Oh. Without a thought she raised a hand to brush a finger against her cheek. She winced slightly, feeling rather dumb for that action. "Oh, this? It's fine." How was it that sitting so close to Vegeta had managed to make her forget about the swelling? Her skin throbbed against the touch, painfully reprimanding her for being so careless. Despite how much it made her want to cuss from the feel, it was much better than it had been the night before. It really was healing…

"You cringed." Vegeta's eyes were locked on one cut in particular. This cut was stretched across the same cheek she'd so foolishly stroked. His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on this, noting the deeply purple hue of the skin, a bruise which seemed to sway around the scrape. "It still causes pain."

"It's healing!" Bulma straightened her posture, sitting up so she could face Vegeta a little better. "It's not that bad – I've been worse."

Without another word Vegeta pushed himself from his sitting position and began to scoot towards Bulma, who was resting on the other end of the bed. She watched as he came at her, slowly growing closer with each centimeter. She opened her mouth to question what he was doing, but no words came out. And a moment later she felt as he placed a rough palm over her face. Bulma let out a low groan, her hand instantaneously flying up to grab his wrist.

"I thought you said it wasn't that bad." He was so incredibly close to her now, his face eye-level to hers as he looked over her cut once more. "You lied."

"Just -" Bulma breathed, her grip on the Saiyan tightening. "It's fine! But that doesn't mean you should touch it!"

"I needed to prove your lie… So, it does hurt." Vegeta removed his hand and sat back to look into Bulma's eyes once more. "Your wound doesn't appear to be deep, woman. The majority of your injury must be from direct contact with his knuckle. Your cheeks are soft, but there's not much to cushion contact with the bone."

It was difficult to explain why, but she felt oddly comforted by this. Bulma fought back the urge to smile, nodding silently instead. "So, there you go. It's not a big deal - that means I'll feel better soon." She made to brush some hair behind her ear, and suddenly she remembered that she'd chopped a decent amount of it off earlier in the day.

The Saiyan was still incredibly close in proximity to her, and he didn't seem as if he had intentions of backing away any time soon. "I'll be waiting for this to heal." He commented.

Her eyebrows raised now, and she shot him a look asking him to elaborate.

"I'd prefer for something such as this to be on me, not you." Vegeta's eyes fixed on her cheek once again. "Such an injury doesn't suit you."

Her cheeks were growing warm as a blush threatened to emerge. Suddenly shy, the Bluehead looked down and shook her head. She was going to insist once more that she was alright, but Vegeta stopped her before she had the chance. She felt his hand on her uninjured cheek, cupping her face and pulling her head up to look at him. Bulma's eyes wide, her voice caught in her throat.

He was threateningly close now.

So near that she could feel his breath gently clapping against her skin. His eyes yet again locked on hers, piercing her soul in a way that only he had the capability to do. Bulma gently placed her fingers over his hand, holding it against her cheek, feeling mesmerized by his onyx colored orbs. She could see something gloss over in his eyes, and she could recognize this gleam from past encounters.

When his pupils grew this deep, she always knew exactly what was on his mind…

And, a moment later, she felt it. His lips brushing over her own, his palm tracing around to gently support the back of her head. Her eyelids fluttered shut, her fingers trailing up his chest to grab his shirt. Slowly he began to lower her back onto the mattress, and she allowed it. His lips were nudging against her own, massaging them open so he could explore her mouth further, and Bulma obliged. She pulled his shirt harder to exhibit her enthusiasm, letting out a low groan as his tongue began to softly stroke against her own.

This was happening so fast, so quickly, so unexpectedly.

She was laying now, Vegeta's using his hands to hold himself above her, to prevent putting too much of his weight on her body. She'd been blind-sided with this, but suddenly all she could think of was that she wanted more. This embrace was familiar, though it had been much too long. Underneath the Saiyan, his arms protectively planted on each side of her head, she'd forgotten how safe it felt to be in this position. It was good to be there again, safely tucked below the only man who had ever made her feel this way. She didn't want to take it for granted, so Bulma reached out. Her fingers found his back, grasping at his toned muscles in desperation to deepen the kiss. It was strange, though, as she attempted to press against his body to show her enthusiasm. She could feel it in his muscles – as soon as she grabbed him there was a suddenly tense restraint, with which he seemed use to prevent his frame from sinking into hers.

Why?

Bulma gripped him tighter, straining her biceps so she could attempt to pull Vegeta down onto her. However his elbows were locked, his arms firmly holding his body above hers, and his torso didn't budge or lower. When she realized that he was now actively resisting against her gestures she opened her eyes. Vegeta was staring down at her, as if studying her face, and within a moment their kiss was broken. She looked up at him, arms still around his back, her irises glimmering with confusion. "What's wrong?" Her voice soft, still breathless from their kiss. The Saiyan now was incredibly stiff against her touch, and she was feeling somewhat disheartened by this sudden change of tone. She let go of his back, bringing her hands around to grip his face as he continued to peer down at her. "Vegeta. What is it?"

His face stern, his eyes emotionless, Vegeta pushed himself off his woman and sat back. "You're wounded."

"What do you mean?" Bulma pushed herself up to a sitting position. She reluctantly watched as Vegeta stood from the bed. "Where are you going?"

"It's careless of me to initiate such a thing when you are still recovering." Vegeta muttered, his eyes closing to break the eye contact that he couldn't seem to escape. Now she was the one staring at him, attempting to figure him out. He felt shame washing over his body. He'd nearly lost control.

This was something that had caused him to push her away so many times during that three-year period before the Android's emergence. It seemed that when he was in close proximity with his woman he had no control over his own desires. Since then he thought that perhaps he'd gotten a grip, but here it was again. He'd acted before thinking, he'd failed to keep his lustful desires under tow. He hadn't intended to kiss her the way he did, and he'd almost been unable to keep it from progressing. There was just something about her – about how he wished he could reverse the damage that had been inflicted on her body. A voice inside urged him to use any means necessary to make her forget about her pain. It was why he'd kissed her in the first place – to try and help her forget. But, in the end, it was hard to leave it at just that. A kiss didn't always remain just a kiss when it came to her, it always seemed to escalate into something more. And he couldn't, she was still recuperating! Still much too fragile. It just didn't feel right to impose himself on her like this.

"I don't-" Bulma started, but Vegeta turned away and interrupted her trail of words. Why had his demeanor suddenly changed?

"I should not have done that. You're still vulnerable, woman."

What was this? She pushed herself from the bed and went for him. His body language told her that he could potentially leave at any moment, and she didn't want it. She was still surprised by everything that was happening in her room, yet she didn't want the moment to end. The more she encountered him lately, the more she wanted in return. "Vegeta," Bulma placed her hand on his right shoulder blade, feeling his muscle tighten once again against her touch. He balled his hands in fists, fighting back the urge that told him to grab her in response. She wrapped her arms around his body, her chest pressing against his back. Standing on the top of her toes, Bulma leaned to whisper in his ear. "I liked it." Her breath against his ear, she felt his skin stiffen in response. Goosebumps. She understood his concern, and she appreciated the warmth that his embrace had given her. They didn't need to partake in a vulgar act, but at that moment she'd decided that she didn't want him to leave. She needed him to stay. She just wanted to be with him. And with that she placed her head against his shoulder, nuzzling her uninjured cheek against his skin. "Please, don't go…"

The Saiyan didn't turn or physically react to her gestures. "Woman," He grunted, his eyebrows furrowing as her palm began to brush over his chest. "Tell me something."

"What is it?"

"Am I a fool to believe that you wouldn't desire my presence had it not been for your wounds?"

Now, this really caught Bulma off guard. Her grip loosened, but her arms remained wrapped around him. "Well," She breathed, considering her reply. "You'd be a fool to think that saving me wouldn't make me feel a certain way… But there's much more to it than simply that."

The Saiyan, hearing this, somehow felt even more conflicted. He needed to make his point clear, and he needed to get it over with. Vegeta began to shrug his shoulders, working to remove her arms from around him. She understood his gesture so she backed away, giving him space. "Look." He still had his back turned, and she could tell by his posture that whatever he was about to tell her was something that he wasn't pleased about having to say. She put a hand over her chest in anticipation, not looking forward to whatever it was that she was about to hear.

"It is not my intention to burden you with such decisions during a time like this, but I must make myself clear. I've come to realize that I cannot continue our constant game of chase. I cannot be close with you at one moment, and then be expected to keep my distance from you the next. I need to know how you foresee your desires. If you do not wish for us to advance with our bond, then we need to stop having encounters such as this. I will cease, and this tireless cycle shall be broken." He turned, his eyes trailing over Bulma's bruises. "I will stay near so I can protect you and the boy, but that is all. I do not wish to continue imposing myself on you. I don't wish to only share brief moments such as these with you, not if it is solely because your mind is in its most compromised state."

His words made Bulma want to reach out and grab Vegeta, urging him not to say such things. But she also wanted to slap him for that very same reason. "Excuse me?" She croaked, crossing her arms over her chest. Vegeta raised an eyebrow – he didn't need to ask to know that she was offended. "Compromised state? What – you think I can't make decisions on my own?!" She moved her hands from her chest to her hips, shooting him a look of warning. "Didn't I already tell you that I wanted to be with you last night?! Wasn't I the one who had to insist on you staying?! You think I was just saying that because I wanted something to distract me from almost being kidnapped?! What kind of girl do you think I am!?"

The Saiyan shrugged. "If this is the argument you choose, then I shall ask you this: why did you not want such contact with me before that man attempted to hurt you?"

Bulma's eyebrows narrowed. He made a good point, there was no denying that. But he didn't know that her feelings had been confused and manifesting before Rikuto's attack. And he didn't know of the epiphany she'd made during the assault, either! Sure – perhaps Rikuto had contributed to helping her realize what was truly important, but the reason she asked Vegeta to stay the previous night certainly hadn't been because she was upset and needed a distraction. It was much deeper than that – and for him to suggest such things made her feel as if she were some brainless damsel in distress. It was a foul image that she didn't want painted of herself!

But still, as Bulma licked her lips dryly and considered her response, she realized that perhaps she was being too rash. She could understand his concern, and to a degree she certainly appreciated it. Vegeta was trying to do the exact opposite of take advantage of her pain. He was trying to establish boundaries, to protect her from doing something that she'd come to later regret. And she knew this was a rare trait to find in a man - and perhaps that's why it'd been so incredibly shocking in the first place.

"Look," She sighed, forcing her posture to relax. "I'm sorry I got upset. Obviously, this entire ordeal is still fresh, and I don't like being forced to think about it like this. And damnit, I hate talking about this with you! I know that what I went through is nothing in comparison to things you've seen, so I know you think I must be an idiot for it! But this was really hard for me…"

The lines upon Vegeta's face softened from her words, and he shook his head. "You come from Earth. Perhaps if you were a Saiyan I might ridicule your distress, but you're not bred for these type of encounters."

"I know you think we're all weak on Earth." Bulma replied. "You've said it hundreds of times before, haven't you? Don't try to act as if not being a Saiyan gives me an excuse this time."

"Would you stop with that?!" Vegeta snapped. "You're different than the others on Earth!"

Bulma bit her lip "I'm different? Well - it doesn't matter." She dropped her head, taking in a deep breath. "My point is that it may not seem substantial to you, but this was a big deal to me! It made me realize a lot, okay? I saw my life flash before my eyes, Vegeta. I – I thought I was going to die, alright? I thought I was going to die… and all I wanted was you."

It didn't take anymore convincing in order to sway Vegeta. If the words she spoke were true, then he had no doubts on the effect such an assault could have had on her. Hadn't his own encounter with mortality shaped the way he approached his own kin? But, to think that she'd come to such a harsh conclusion didn't sink well with him. Death was something he never wanted to consider for the Bluehead standing across from him.

Bulma felt his palms brush over her forearms, and she looked up. Vegeta was close to her, once again, peering into her eyes. "I already told you not to compare yourself to my past." His hand trailed down her arm to find her wrist. "Look at this." He pulled her hand up to his face, examining the finger-shaped bruises lining her wrist. "That fiend grabbed you here, didn't he?"

"It's fine, I already-"

"I meant it when I said you were different than other Earth mortals." The Saiyan breathed, dropping her hand. "You're my Earth woman…"

Her eyebrows raising, Bulma felt as the wind seemed to be sucked from her pit. She couldn't begin to even register the sensation it was to hear him say such a thing, and a moment later she felt as he guided her back to the bed.

"I regret my errors as your mate, it's unacceptable to have allowed something such as this to have happened to you."

Softly her head came into contact with her pillow, his body crawling on top of her own once again. This time he held his weight off of hers again, but not to the same extent as before. She felt as his stomach pressed into hers gently, his face threateningly close to her own.

"You still need to recuperate." His fingers were brushing against her injured wrist, his eyes never leaving her own. "Go back to sleep."

"Vegeta," Bulma replied, her eyelids feeling traitorously heavy. With him on top of her, cuddling her, she felt incredibly warm and safe. Wasn't she supposed to be wide awake – hadn't her nap done enough to inflict her with another sleepless night?

Why was she suddenly so fatigued?

"Quiet, Woman…"

Bulma began to wonder if Vegeta had some secret power of hypnosis, because it seemed that everything he was now commanding of her she was doing irrefutably.

It was so warm, this embrace.

So close.

So comfortable…

...

A few moments later Vegeta pulled himself back to his feet, looking down at the sleeping enchantress who was now softly dozing on the bed. He'd done it – he'd fought off the instinct that told him to comfort her in a primal way. Instead he'd lay with her until he'd been able to coax her back to sleep, satisfied with the information she provided during their conversation. Looking down at her, he watched as she let out a groan and rolled to her side.

'She tries to act as if she is above injuries,' Vegeta thought with a smirk. He found himself pulling her blanket over Bulma's body, thinking she would prefer to stay warm.

'She really is different.'