Chapter 35

Don't stay
Forget our memories
Forget our possibilities
Take all your faithlessness with you
Just give me myself back and
Don't stay

It was November before Bulma started seeing Vegeta regularly again. For almost a whole month he refused to go jogging with her in the mornings, skipped meals, took indirect routes through the compound to purposely avoid her path, and spent several days away from the city. When they passed he would give her the cold shoulder and when she tried to talk to him all he would do was grunt in reply, if even that. She was becoming rather exasperated with his avoidant behavior and considered seeking him out, but he would inevitably sense her ki moving toward him and leave wherever he was.

Then one day he appeared at the breakfast table and the meal ran as smoothly as if he had not been consistently absent for weeks. He wolfed down his food and ignored the chatter of the Briefs just as he always had. Bulma noticed that he was back to black hair and eyes and a brown tail. Apparently he was training without ascending for a while, not that she minded. While he was good-looking as a blonde, she much preferred his dark coloring. Not that it mattered which appearance she preferred since he was about as scarce as when he was out in space.

She kept her eyes glued to him all through the meal but he never once glanced her way. She didn't know if it was because he didn't want to see her or acknowledge her presence or if he was really that focused on his food that he couldn't spare a glance at anyone or anything else. Both explanations seemed plausible, given his history, so she had a hard time coming up with a definite conclusion. She really hoped that the latter was true because she was actually missing him very much, more than she thought was possible when he was so physically near.

Vegeta finished what must have been his fifteenth bowl of oatmeal and downed a tall glass of milk. After he wiped his mouth he fixed eyes on the blue-haired woman sitting across from him. His dark eyes captured hers and she once again felt lost in their inky depths. But he was keeping his emotions carefully guarded and she couldn't find any trace of them in his eyes, which disappointed her. She wanted some idea as to how he was feeling, what he was thinking, anything. It had been so long since she had seen him it was driving her crazy. She may as well have been living with a ghost.

Her gaze wavered under the steady, calculating scrutiny and she found herself staring into the black cup of coffee she was holding between her hands on the table. The blackness of the coffee, she thought, was so dim compared to his fiery obsidian orbs. They were darker than the vacuum of space but burned brighter than the hottest stars.

"I will not be training today," he announced to the small family, but Bulma felt as though he was solely telling her. Her heart skipped a beat and she dared herself to raise her eyes to meet his again. They were still burning into her soul and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

"Does that mean you're not mad at me anymore?" she ventured to ask quietly.

Vegeta gave her an amused smirk and shook his head. Why she thought everything was always about her was beyond him. It was merely coincidence that he 'left' her after a little personality clashing. His avoidance really had nothing to do with that at all. He had not seen her in a long time because he had been training until he could barely stand, he was pushing himself farther beyond his limits, taking fewer breaks, eating less, and hardly sleeping. He rarely ventured out of the gravity room and when he did it was to bandage himself up so he had avoided contact with anyone for the sake of his pride. He didn't need the weak humans knowing he was pushing himself too hard. The most troubling part was that he had reached a plateau in his training, no longer making any headway at all, and that was why he had decided to take a day off. He knew the benefits of rest and finally gave in to his body's demands for it.

"It has nothing to do with you, Woman," he drawled as he pushed away from the table and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He gave her a wolfish grin and left the kitchen, drinking in the scent of disappointment heavy in the air.

Bulma's face dropped and she sipped her coffee. "I guess he is," she muttered bitterly.

"He is what, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked as she started clearing the saiyan's dishes away.

"Nothing. Never mind." Bulma didn't feel like trying to explain why Vegeta was still upset with her after a whole month. She didn't honestly know how he could hold a grudge over something so trivial anyway.

Later that day Bulma found Vegeta in the recreation room standing in front of the pool table. He was holding the cue stick at his side and his tail occasionally twitched behind him, but she could tell he wasn't thinking about the game he had been playing. She walked around so she could see his face and saw that he was deep in thought, a crease of concentration evident on his brow. He didn't even seem to notice when she came over to him and touched his arm.

His skin felt hot under her touch and she felt his warmth spreading through her body from the light contact. She saw that he had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants that were too big, judging by the way they hung low on his hips, only held in place by his tail that was poking through the back, and a black undershirt.

The cool touch on his arm shook him from his reverie and he turned cold eyes on the blue-haired woman. She shied away as his eyes pierced through her and rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "What do you want, Woman?" he asked as he raised his cue stick to continue the game he had started nearly an hour ago. She was relieved by the lack of anger in his tone. He seemed not at all surprised by her appearance at his side.

Bulma shrugged. "Nothing, I guess." She sat down at the table where they used to play chess and watched him play.

"Hn," he grunted and pocketed three balls with one hit.

"Do you want to play against me?" she offered casually as she inspected her perfectly manicured nails.

His eyes shot up to hers for a second before he returned his attention to the remaining balls on the table. He shrugged one shoulder and hit another ball into a pocket. Unbeknownst to her, he had actually been thinking about her before she came in. He had only seen her a few times within the past month, his only company the training bots she had built for him in the gravity room. He avoided her parents more than her, especially Mrs. Brief, and sneaked in and out of the kitchen for food for the sake of being left alone by the chatterbox blonde. He wasn't mad at her as he let her believe, mainly to save face, but rather missed her company. The intensity of his training had been the only thing keeping him from searching for her when loneliness started eating away at his concentration. He cursed his need for companionship but couldn't ignore it. Once he admitted it was a part of who he was, this need for a pack, he had slowly eased into the idea of wanting someone else around and faced the truth when he felt lonely. And right now, he was definitely in need of some time spent with his blue-haired pack mate.

Bulma took his noncommittal answer to be an affirmative so she waited for him to finish the game he was playing against himself before getting up and grabbing her cue stick from the wall while he racked the balls. He let her break and they played a quick game that ended with him winning by a long shot. They decided to play again, this time the competition being closer. Vegeta had to stop watching her play when he noticed how when she bent over the table her blouse would reveal her cleavage. He didn't know why it bothered him, but it did. He shook his head to get his thoughts back on track and out of the gutter; he was beginning to think he had isolated himself for far too long if he was getting excited over that. It wasn't as if he had any interest in her in any way other than a pack mate.

The game ended with Vegeta winning again by a small margin. Bulma huffed and pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the table with her arms crossed over her chest, her cue stick thrown unceremoniously down on the table. Vegeta smirked at her and leaned against the table next to her. "Don't be a sore loser, Woman," he teased.

"Oh shut up. You always win. It's not very fun for me."

Vegeta chuckled and nudged her with his shoulder. "You sound like a cub."

Bulma stuck her tongue out at him and he snapped at it. She was finally able to see past her defeat and picked up on his playful mood. She forgot her aggravation with his wins and smiled. Maybe he wasn't mad at her any more after all. "You know it's been kind of lonely around here without you pissing me off," she told him.

"Me? Pissing you off, you infernal woman?" He grinned mischievously.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Don't even try to tell me that I piss you off. You like being around me," she quipped. She grinned back at him and giggled.

"You flatter yourself."

"You just don't want to admit that I'm fun to be around."

"Yes," he replied snidely, "I simply love being around someone who screams until my ears bleed and distracts me from my training."

Bulma slapped his shoulder. "I'm not that bad!"

"Believe what you want, Woman," he said in a verbal shrug. He pushed away from the pool table and grabbed the cue sticks to put them away.

Bulma watched him appreciatively and subconsciously licked her lips. Every time she saw him after an extended leave of sorts he came back looking even better than before. She giggled again when she saw him grab the waist of his pants and pull them up only to have them sag back down. If they were much lower she'd be getting a free show. That idea didn't turn her off too much. Where he might have been devilishly handsome before, he was dead sexy now.

Or maybe that was her desire for male companionship talking.

She shook her head and smiled innocently when she met his eyes. His eyebrow was raised and she knew she had been caught in the act of mentally undressing him. Her cheeks flushed and she turned away, mortified. Had she really been gawking at him like a little schoolgirl? She smacked her forehead and almost laughed at her own audacity.

Suddenly he was in front of her with his face almost touching hers, his onyx eyes dancing with amusement and something else. Curiosity? Bulma leaned back to get some distance between them but he moved with her until she was lying back on the table and he was on top of her. "Your scent…" he mumbled as he buried his face in her neck. She felt as well as heard him sniffing but he didn't seem to find what he was looking for as he moved across her chest and down her belly. She gasped and watched him wide-eyed as he moved lower. She had never felt so naked in all her life, and her body was reacting to that feeling strongly. She groaned.

Vegeta stopped when he reached the top of her jeans and looked up at her, more confused than anything. He cocked his head at her and sniffed again, just to be sure he knew what he was smelling. He snorted the scent out of his nose and crossed the room in the blink of an eye. He was backed against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest and he wouldn't raise his eyes to look at her. Something had definitely thrown him off.

Bulma sat back up and looked over at the saiyan, wondering why he had retreated so quickly without warning. She saw that his posture was defensive and his tail was… tucked between his legs and wrapped around his own thigh? That was something she had never seen before. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. An awkward silence filled the room.

He cleared his throat and ran one hand through his hair. If he hadn't been so far away she would have seen his deep blush as he tried to ask, "Why do you… why do." He shook his head and said what he meant in a statement rather than a question. "You smell of desire."

This time Bulma's face turned three shades of red and she hid her face in her hands so she couldn't see his reaction when she answered. "I…well. Yes."

"For me." He stated it in a doubtful tone, though they both knew he was right on target.

Bulma coughed and looked out the balcony doors at the gray world beyond. The trees were bare and the sun was hiding behind a veil of clouds. She was wishing she could be anywhere but where she was, but she had kind of gotten herself into the mess. She nodded almost imperceptibly and shifted uncomfortably. She spared a glance at the saiyan and saw that he was shaking his head in disbelief and his posture still screamed of unease and embarrassment.

"Is that bad?" she squeaked out.

He shook his head, this time in answer to her question, though his expression didn't look certain. "It's just never…" he trailed off before finishing a while later. "Never happened before." He pulled his pants back up self-consciously but they immediately sagged back down. She thought she heard a colorful stream of curses in many alien languages.

"Never?"

He shook his head again. He was afraid he was starting to look like a bobble-head. He dug his toes into the carpet, suddenly finding it extremely fascinating and became absorbed in studying it with all of his attention.

"You've never you know… been with… a woman?" she asked so quietly she wasn't sure he could hear her. In a way, she didn't want to know the answer. But if he was acting so humiliated simply because she showed interest in him, he must have been more of a prude than she thought. It might have been funny had she not been so deeply embarrassed. The idea of a badass like Vegeta being a virgin was ridiculous. What kind of weird morality would that be, to accept killing as if it were nothing and yet uphold sex as a sacred act between man and wife?

He forced himself to lift his chin and look her in the eyes when he answered, "I've never taken a willing female, no." He left the implications hanging in the air between them.

Bulma gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide with shock and horror. She felt bile rising in her throat and tried to swallow it back, but it kept coming back. She shook her head violently and jumped off the edge of the table and ran out of the room to the hall bathroom where she threw the lid of the toilet up and emptied her stomach of all its contents into it. Tears formed in her eyes, not just from the violent upheaval of food, but from the emotions playing through her head. Shock. Horror. Disgust. Sorrow. Disappointment.

She saw out of the corner of her eye the flame-haired saiyan standing in the hall outside the door, but she didn't turn to face him. Instead she just reached up to flush the toilet, put the lid back down, and pushed herself back up to her feet and went to the sink. She cupped her hand under the running water and raised it to her mouth and gargled to get the bitter taste out of her mouth and spat it out. She cupped her hands under the cool water again and splashed her face with it. When she dried her hands and face and looked out the door, he was gone.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she walked down the hall to her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it and sank down to the floor as her tears started falling. She couldn't stop them. A sob escaped her tight chest and she gasped for breath and sobbed again. She hugged her knees to her chest and wept bitterly, ashamed of herself for being attracted to a man who had not only killed entire civilizations but had also raped only Kami knows how many women.

'What did I expect? He was a monster when he was working for Frieza! He was being shaped into what that creep was. He was a killer, a heartless, ruthless murderer, why not a rapist too? I just never imagined… Oh Kami! And I wanted to know about his past.' Bulma put her hands over her face and screamed incoherently as the painful jumble of thoughts and emotions coursed their way through her.

Vegeta heard the woman's upset cries and cringed. He clamped his hands over his ears and curled into a ball in his nest. He rocked back and forth and tried to force any thought out of his head. He wanted to be numb. Where had his mental discipline gone when he needed it most? He buried his face in his knees and hissed through his clenched teeth.

'Damnit!' he screamed at himself, 'why the hell did I tell her that? Why? She didn't need to know. She … she had a right to know. To know what kind of monster she desired. And now it's time to face the music: the song of horror and despair my transgressions have caused.'

He forced himself to lower his hands and listen to Bulma's weeping, her screams, the heartrending sobs that shook her delicate body. He nearly went mad listening to her, for once filled with shame and regret for what he had done in his past. Wishing again that he had been killed when he was a boy rather than live to obey the tyrant's commands. In that moment he learned what it meant to truly hate oneself.

Neither Bulma nor Vegeta emerged from their rooms for the rest of the afternoon. Bulma cried herself into a fitful sleep that was plagued with terrible dreams about Vegeta's past. He, on the other hand, remained awake and curled up in his nest. His mind ran over their short conversation over and over until he thought he would lose his mind. He wanted to take his words back, make it as if it never happened, but he couldn't. And he wouldn't if he could. It would be wrong to leave her in the dark about something like that, especially if she was thinking of him as more than 'friends.'

He hurt her. Badly. He was ashamed of himself not only for what happened that morning, but for his past. All of it. He hated that he lived such a life because now it was haunting her as well as him. He had to protect her from the darkness of his past, he decided. The best way to do that was to get away from her. As far away as possible.

Dinner was an uncomfortably awkward meal, at least for Bulma and Vegeta. She couldn't stand to look at him and he could smell her terror and revulsion. It sickened him until he lost his appetite completely. Both of them picked at the food on their plates, not eating, not speaking, hardly breathing. Mrs. Brief insisted Vegeta eat more, but he shook his head and set his fork down on his plate and let out a sigh that surely came from the depths of his soul. He looked at the blue-haired woman sitting across from him and winced when he saw the fear in her eyes when she met his gaze before immediately averting her eyes.

Mrs. Brief and Dr. Brief seemed to sense the tension in the air and politely excused themselves, thinking the two needed to discuss something that was bothering them. They couldn't have been more wrong; the last thing Bulma wanted was to be left alone with the saiyan, and he loathed the idea of being the object of her fear and contempt, which was made painfully obvious without her parents around.

Both stood at the same time to leave the table and shifted uncomfortably when they realized they had the same intentions. Vegeta took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You had the right to know," he stated clearly, in an emotionless tone. He didn't wait for a reply before he disappeared out of the kitchen.

Bulma sank back into her chair and stared at the door. She shook her head slowly and pounded her fist on the table. "I didn't want to know!" she screamed, pouring all of her anger and grief into her words. She dropped her head into her hands and focused on breathing as another wave of emotions washed over her.

Vegeta heard her loud and clear. He flinched as her piercing scream echoed in his ears and made his head swim. He ran up to his room and changed into his old bodysuit, armor, boots, and gloves and went out to the balcony. With a final glance full of regret over his shoulder, he took off into the starless night sky, never planning on coming back.

A/N: Surprise! I updated today even though I said I wouldn't. I'm sure you're not complaining. I originally wanted to make this chapter longer (it is kind of short) but I felt like it didn't need more. So happy Monday. :)

Song: "Don't Stay" by Linkin Park