Chapter 45

Where'd you go? I miss you so
Seems like forever that you've been gone
Please come back home

Bulma didn't see Vegeta once for the month following his strange revelation because he was making himself incredibly scarce. He was never in the gravity room when she came to find him, so she couldn't barge in on him, he wasn't in his bedroom at night when she went to find him, he was never in the kitchen when she went to meals or to find snacks, and he could never be found in the library, recreation room, or any of his other previous hideouts. In fact, if it hadn't been for the gargantuan amounts of groceries her mother had to keep buying, Bulma would have thought he wasn't living at the compound at all.

One week after his disappearance she was beginning to really miss him. Two weeks after, she was growing worried about him and couldn't keep her mind off him. Three weeks and she was craving his touch or even a short glimpse of him if only to know he was alright. And once a month had passed, she was pining for him and desperately needed to see him, feel him, anything. She was going insane being separated from him for so long; it was a madness she had never thought possible, to have her life centered on someone who was never around. She thought about him, dreamed about him, called out for him, but he was as a ghost to her. Gone, silent, invisible.

But if Bulma thought she was losing her mind, Vegeta was in a much worse state. He went out of his way to avoid her, to make sure he wasn't around wherever she would be. He had taken up residence in another guestroom on the far side of the compound she had likely forgotten even existed and trained in the indoor garden with his micro-gravity simulator all day. He left at odd times of day to get food, times when he knew neither his blue-haired woman nor her mother would be present to bother him. He had taken to sparring with Goku frequently to have an excuse to leave the compound and sometimes spent entire days or nights in the wilderness, training and hunting. He had made immense gains in his ability to hold his super saiyan level for days, but he felt like he could have made even more progress had his mind been fully in the game.

What distracted him, much to his chagrin, was the very creature he was trying to forget. She filled his thoughts and multiplied his loneliness until he screamed in anguish. His sanity, never stable to begin with, would slip in and out until he was constantly disoriented. Vegeta knew that distancing himself from his pack was having a negative impact on him, but he was reluctant to see them again after his confession. How he was ever going to figure out the answer to the woman's question was what he couldn't figure out: 'Then you don't want to mate with me for life?'

She had sounded disappointed, though he doubted she knew the magnitude of what she was asking him. Did that mean she wanted him, forever? As much as he wanted to believe she did, he couldn't believe it. They weren't right for each other in any sense of the word, how could they be? She was good, he was bad, end of story. They were polar opposites, incompatible. And yet he never felt right without her anymore, which was becoming more evident every second he avoided her presence. Living without her was becoming nearly impossible. He didn't just want her anymore, he needed her, and that was what scared him away from her the most.

On a rare sunny afternoon, in the crisp January air, Vegeta dropped out of his ascended form and fell to the ground outside the compound. He had been training in a warmer region of the world for the past two days and the cold hit him hard, sucking the last dregs of his remaining energy out of his overused body. He grunted when he hit the frozen ground and rolled onto his back to stare up at the pale blue sky. Cerulean, like the woman's silky hair. He sighed and sat up.

Bulma had been looking out the kitchen window when she saw something fall down, perhaps a someone. Her eyes followed it until it hit the ground, immediately recognizing the sturdy frame and black flame of hair of the saiyan prince. She gasped and ran outside to help him, since it looked like he had fallen pretty hard. Probably he wasn't too badly injured, but with him it was always hard to tell and she wasn't taking chances.

Not bothering with putting on a coat, Bulma ran out the front door in only her jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, her bare feet pattering against the frozen ground. "Are you ok, Vegeta?" she shouted as she came closer to him.

He turned to look at her, instantly losing himself in her blue gaze, filled with concern and… something he couldn't identify. He didn't answer, instead just looked deeper and deeper into her until she felt like her entire soul had been bared to him. She squatted down next to him and rubbed his cheek with the palm of her hand. Even in the freezing cold his skin was hot against hers and she sighed when she felt his heat running through her body like a wave starting in her fingers. Then he nuzzled into her hand and pressed his nose against her wrist, sniffing her sweet scent with fervent interest.

Bulma smiled and then started giggling when he pulled her into his lap and rested his head on her shoulder with his nose in the crook of her neck where he could breathe her scent and feel her against him. He brushed her hair behind her shoulder, his rough fingers lingering in her blue tresses as he reacquainted himself with every detail of her person. He decided he had been away from her for entirely too long and would never leave her side again if it killed him.

She felt a warm, furry snake coiling around her thigh and grinned with a joy she hadn't felt in weeks. Or months. Vegeta was again laying claim on her and it was the best thing she could ever hope for. She hadn't realized until he was gone how much she needed him. In his absence she longed for him with a passion she had never known; his presence made her feel a completeness she hadn't had with anyone ever before. She was his. She would always be his.

"So do you?" she asked quietly. She knew she didn't need to specify more.

His hot breath fluttered across her neck as he exhaled shakily. His tail wrapped tighter around her leg as he nodded his head. Bulma was sure her heart stopped beating when he gave his affirmation; he wasn't rejecting her anymore, he wanted to stay with her, for life. She would have squealed in excitement, but she knew how much he hated when she did that because of his sensitive hearing. Instead, she ran her fingers through his feathery mane and kissed his head.

"Me too."

Vegeta's jaw dropped and face flushed a deep red, which he was glad she couldn't see. Instinctively he held her closer, trapping her in a tight embrace she could hardly breathe in. But then he shook his head and murmured, "Not yet. Wait until the androids are defeated."

Not only would that meet his time requirements for 'courting' his blue-haired woman, but it would ensure that she wouldn't mate with someone who might die very soon. He could not and would not put her through bereavement so soon after mating. Though he had prepared for the androids, they still posed a serious threat that he would not take lightly. The lavender-haired boy had said that he died in the battle. He didn't know any of the details. Had he been a super saiyan? Had he been caught by surprise? Had he underestimated them and fought poorly? Without any useful information, he couldn't be sure he would make it through the battle alive, though he was feeling confident that he could destroy them single-handedly. Regardless, the risk was there and he would not mate with the woman until he was sure he had a long life ahead of him. That was only fair to her and the honorable thing for him to do. Wait. Abstain. Go crazy.

He was beginning to wonder when he started taking her feelings into consideration. Any other person would have been used to his advantage, for his pleasure, but he wasn't able to do that to her. It may have been because she was his pack mate, so he was developing a group mentality where the good of one is the good of all. Therefore, he couldn't hurt her or he would be hurting himself, his pride, everything that mattered to him. But he knew that wasn't the entirety of it because he was utterly unable to feel selfish around her anymore. It confused him, it scared him, but it didn't feel wrong. In fact, it felt very, very right to put someone else's well-being ahead of his own for a change. It gave his life more purpose and meaning when he was occupied with protecting and caring for another individual who would do the same for him, if she could. Why he knew she would, he didn't know, but he did. She would die for him, though he would never let her because he would sooner die than let anything harm her.

Bulma pulled back and studied Vegeta's expression. "Why wait?"

Vegeta sighed and shook his head. He didn't feel like explaining his reasoning to her, but he knew she wouldn't be happy until she heard it. She might not even agree with him. Actually, that was highly likely. "Because it's improper for a saiyan to mate before a year has passed since he expressed interest in a female. Besides, I could still die in the fight and you wouldn't want to be mated to me then."

"Isn't that all the more reason to do it before the androids?"

"Shut up, Woman, you don't know what you're talking about," he murmured as he covered her lips with his own. If there was thing that was always sure to keep her quiet, it was kissing her, he had discovered. It wasn't particularly unpleasant, either.

Bulma practically melted when she felt his lips pressed against hers; it had been way too long since she had been kissed, too long since butterflies flitted around in her stomach at his touch, the sound of his deep voice. And now she knew that he would be with her forever, she would always be his. The cold of the winter day didn't reach her as she pressed her body against him, his warmth spreading through every inch of her. She sighed when he deepened the kiss and willingly allowed his tongue into her mouth. Every day spent without his presence was worth only a second of the bliss she was experiencing.

When they broke apart for air, she again studied his stoic features, searching for the feelings he would probably never openly express. But even his eyes were guarded and she couldn't get through his barriers. For a moment she feared she had simply forgotten how to read him, but she realized that, for some reason, he was hiding something from her. Blue met black as she looked for answers she couldn't find anywhere else.

Vegeta knew what she was hoping he would say or show, which was why he put his guard up to make sure she couldn't find out. Why wait until the androids were defeated? The reasons he had given were true, but there was one other that he hadn't shared and never would. Rooted deep in his concern for her was an intense fear that he wouldn't make it through the battle with the androids. Not only would he have lived a short, miserable life, only to be defeated by tin cans, but he would die without ever having known what it was to be mated to the woman. To be needed, wanted, trusted, respected, and depended on by another who he could freely give himself to: the one being he had ever known who he could open up to without fear of rejection.

Love was a foreign concept to Vegeta. He didn't know what it was, doubted he had ever been loved before, and wasn't sure he was capable of loving. How to express it was a mystery to him, why anyone would love another was nonsensical, and its significance was lost on him. He had heard of such a thing on other planets, but as far as he knew, such a feeling was given no name in his native tongue because it simply did not exist. Not to saiyans. Whether that was because they were incapable or unwilling to love, he didn't know. Perhaps 'love' was expressed by saiyans, just in a different way. Maybe it had a different meaning, or it was too complex to be named with one word. Whatever the case, he was both repulsed and fascinated by it. Love. It was what he had seen in her eyes when she ran over to him. What he found himself wanting from her.

Bulma leaned in to kiss him again, but he turned away so her lips brushed against his cheek. She furrowed her brows and examined his expression again, though it was still stoic. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "You hungry, highness?"

"Foolish question."

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. Not that it mattered if he was hungry or not, since she didn't plan on getting out of his lap anytime soon to get him food.

"Hn."

They were silent for a few minutes as they held each other in a tight embrace. But then Vegeta pushed himself off the ground, holding her close to him and walked to the front door. Inside, he unwound his tail from her thigh and took a few steps down the hall before growling over his shoulder, "I'm going to train."

'Why am I surprised?' she wondered as she watched him turning down the hall toward the gravity room. He could be the sweetest, most romantic man one second and a callous jerk the next. More than once she concluded he must either be bipolar or have multiple personalities or something. But she knew he was just incredibly dedicated to his training. If he got paid for it, he would have quite a profitable career. While he finally admitted to being willing to commit himself to her for the rest of his life, he had more pressing matters to attend to: namely, preparing for battle in four months so he would have a rest of his life.

Once in the familiar confines of the gravity room, Vegeta concentrated his energy until he was able to ascend to super saiyan again. It was draining, and he knew he wouldn't be able to maintain his ascension for long, but he was not going to waste any time training at a lower level if he could help it. His running record – post starvation – for time spent as a super saiyan was four days. Not bad, but he knew he had been capable of much longer periods of time before and he was determined to reach them again and then surpass them. He turned the gravity console to 1200Gs and started his training, ignoring his hunger, thirst, fatigue, and loneliness.

He flipped, dodged, blasted, and punched as he flew around the stuffy room in an intricate dance of alternating offense and defense as the training bots attacked and deflected his ki balls. Before long, he was sweating and panting, more from the effort of sustaining his high ki level than from the exercise itself. Even so, he continued dragging out the last fragments of strength still untapped in his body, unwilling to descend until he had no choice in the matter. And so he grit his teeth and pressed on in his self-destructive discipline.

Four months was all he had left to prepare for the android threat. Four short months. Where had all his time gone? Why did he still feel vulnerable to the threat even though he knew it was coming and had trained hard in all his free time? A worry he hadn't felt before was starting to seep into his conscious as he weaved through an onslaught of attacks from the bots. He was stronger, faster, and smarter than he had been three years ago. He had reached unchartered levels of power and discovered a new source of energy he had had his whole life. He had a new reason to live, a greater reason to live than he had ever had before. That was why he was worried; now that he knew what life had to offer, he was loathe to lose it. After three decades of nothing but hatred, violence, and insecurity, he had found love, peace, and stability. The new life he had been granted on Namek was different. He had new potential. He could make a fresh start, and he was going to. If only he could survive the battle with the androids.

What if the lavender-haired boy's prediction came true? What if, despite all his training, he still wasn't powerful enough to defeat them? What if he died before he could ever start a life in union with his blue-haired woman? What if…? Vegeta shook his head and refocused on his training. Thinking about what-ifs in the future were as dangerous as those from his past.

The next four months would pass rapidly, that he knew. The two and a half years leading up to this point had dragged on, the eager anticipation of a challenging battle looming so far in the distance making the wait nearly intolerable. But it was the year they would come. The androids would make their grand appearance in four months. Four. Was it enough time? He had no doubt that he was, indeed, stronger than Kakarrot, but did that make him strong enough? Comparing himself to the third-class clown was pointless. If the boy, also a super saiyan (maybe), couldn't defeat the androids in the future, why would Kakarrot be able to? For that matter, why would he be able to? Vegeta knew he was more powerful than the boy had been, if his power level during the fight with Frieza and 'spar' with Kakarrot were any indication of his true power. But did it matter? Just how outclassed had the boy been by the androids?

Vegeta growled at his own thoughts and counterattacked a ki blast heading straight for him. But that move drained the last of his reserves from his body and he slammed onto the floor hard as he slipped out of his ascended state. Now he'd gone and done it. Again. He was stuck to the floor with a gravity level he couldn't handle in his base form and the deactivation button was across the room. He gave the deepest sigh he could muster and stared at the ceiling while his mind worked to push away the sensation of pain lingering on the fringes of his consciousness.

"I will not die," he whispered to himself. "I cannot die. The woman…"

His woman. His reason for living a new, improved life. His first real pack mate since the last of the true saiyans were gone. Raditz and Nappa, his foolish companions, were dead, but she lived and accepted him into her pack. The loner. The selfish, loathsome, murderous loner. She had been afraid of him, unable to trust him, and yet she took him into her home willingly. He frustrated her, used her, insulted her, and she put up with him. She did more than that, she learned to like him. Then love him. She could see his potential before he ever could, and she brought out the best in him when he still believed there was no good to be found. She refused to believe he was all evil despite him being convinced of it himself. She cared for him, providing food, shelter, clothing, and training equipment. She became his companion when he wasn't looking for one and took away the loneliness that would have killed him eventually. If not for her, he surely would have been dead again. Either from losing the will to live resulting from his loneliness or from injuries sustained in fights with Kakarrot. She was his savior. She was something he never thought he needed for all his pride and arrogance. But he couldn't deny it any longer and wouldn't bother trying. He needed her. And, well, he cared for her. Loved her? Not exactly, but he felt as close to loving her as a saiyan could get.

The crushing weight of his body made breathing difficult and movement impossible, but he hardly noticed as his mind drifted through his past, onto his present, and what he hoped would be his future. The ceiling loomed tauntingly above him, reminding him that he was trapped under his own weight, unable to rise and free himself from his sad condition. He closed his eyes and let his mind continue its wandering unhindered by visual stimuli.

It was later. How much later, the saiyan didn't know for sure. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his first in a long while, and rose into a sitting position on the floor of the gravity room. His excess weight had been lifted, his free mobility regained by some miraculous intervention by… the woman. Undoubtedly he would receive a lengthy lecture about being more careful when he trained. With a calm resolve he waited as the door to the gravity room opened and the soft, rapid footsteps of his blue-haired woman crossed the tile floor. The gravity console, across the room from him, told him that it was 9:12PM. Hours. It had been hours since he had fallen. Hours he had spent uselessly pinned to the floor. He was surprised he had survived, being practically incapable of breathing with an absurdly low amount of energy.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?" Bulma asked as she knelt down next to the saiyan prince. "You could have at least grunted or something."

Vegeta snorted and shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly. "I was… incapacitated at the moment." He laid back down on the floor, arms at his sides, as he resumed his staring contest with the ceiling.

Bulma raised an eyebrow and poked him in the chest with her index finger. "So you mean you overdid it again and couldn't move or even muster the strength to answer me."

He grunted and took another deep breath, exhaling slowly, basking in the satisfaction of being able to fully fill his lungs with oxygen. Maybe he had overdone it. Maybe. But what other way was there to become stronger? To be able to achieve new levels of power? To be able to reach his potential, so that he could not only survive, but live? As a saiyan, he enjoyed physical activity. He wanted to spend his days fighting, refining his fighting techniques, preparing for battle. And yet, he hated training. He hated the way he ached, how he had to push himself above and beyond his limits daily, the way his body protested against his sheer determination and will. He hated how he ended each day marred with bruises, cuts, and burns. But that was his life. His chosen path as a warrior, though he could have given it up once he was freed.

"Honestly, Vegeta," Bulma chided, "I don't see why you do this to yourself. I know you need to train, but does it really do you any good to almost kill yourself every day?"

Vegeta turned his head so he could look up into her cerulean eyes as he answered, "I'm getting stronger, am I not?" What more was there to say? His goal was to increase his power, and he was accomplishing that by whatever means necessary. Certainly he could train as the other warriors did, but he utilized his unique physiology, knowing his power increased exponentially each time he was seriously injured. It seemed masochistic, but it was the quickest means to an end he desired.

She looked back into his obsidian depths and shook her head sadly. The temptation to yell at him, beg him not to hurt himself constantly, was there, but she refused to give in to it. She knew it did nothing more than frustrate him, if not disgust him. He hadn't killed himself yet, close as he had come many times, and she knew he never would. She was deeply concerned for him, but she knew better than to judge his methods. Admittedly, they were working. He was, indeed, growing stronger daily, beyond where he had been over a year before. If only he hadn't left the compound and so severely neglected himself. If only he hadn't had to regain what he had already accomplished. He could be so much farther along now, maybe to a level where he felt secure enough that he wouldn't push himself so hard without ever taking breaks. If only…

"You are, I know," she conceded. "But all that training has surely made you hungry. It's getting late, why don't you come to the kitchen and I'll warm up some leftovers for you?"

He nodded and drew his knees up to his chest before kicking himself up to his feet. He landed softly and wound his tail around his waist loosely as he pulled Bulma to her feet and walked out of the gravity room to take a shower while she worked on his meal.

Fifteen minutes later he found himself seated at the kitchen table with a growing pile of food laid out before him. Bulma was still busily working on heating food up for him while he started eating what was already done. He hardly realized how hungry he had actually become over the course of the day. Early that morning he had eaten a variety of fruits and some kind of deer – a light breakfast. And so, after skipping his daytime snacks and lunch, as well as dinner, he was quite famished and ate more ravenously than usual. It hadn't helped that he was a super saiyan through most of the day, which used up even more energy, heightening his metabolism. Bulma was doing well with keeping up with his appetite, but he certainly kept her on her toes.

When he was finally finished, he pushed back from the table and watched the woman as she cleared away his dishes. He wandered over to the sink as she started washing them and perched on the counter next to her, his dark eyes focusing on her slender hands as they worked. It wasn't long before her pale skin was pink and wrinkled from the prolonged immersion in the hot water. Still, she kept working, not seeming to notice how he was observing her doing her chore.

Several minutes passed before he broke the silence by asking, "Why do you do a servant's task, Woman?"

Bulma smiled as she rinsed another plate and set it in the dish drainer. "If I don't do it then who will? You may not have noticed, Vegeta, but we don't have 'servants' here."

He cocked his head and studied her carefully. "I am aware of that. But you have servant bots. And if you wanted, you could employee servants to do such trivial chores as this." When she made no reply, he took one of her hands in his and turned it over, examining it. He ran his calloused fingers over her wrinkled hand. "What happened to your hands?"

"What do you mean?" she asked as she pulled her hand away to resume washing. "You mean why do they look like prunes? It's just what happens when they've been in water a while."

Vegeta snorted and shook his head. "Strange humans," he muttered. He leaned back against the wall and stayed at her side until she was finished washing all the dishes, his tail thumping contentedly at his side on the counter. After she drained the water out of the sink and dried her hands, he hopped off the counter and grabbed Bulma, twisting her around so he had her pinned against the counter. Without a word he kissed her, gently but passionately.

Bulma's knees wobbled, forcing her to support herself with her arms against the counter behind her. A fiery desire swept through her body as his lips hungrily moved over hers. She knew he would be able to smell it on her and hoped desperately that he wouldn't be scared away again. Too often he had left when she started getting aroused, something she never understood. Instead of moving away, he pressed his body against hers closer and encircled her slim waist with his muscular arms. He stopped kissing her and put his forehead against hers as he looked deep into her blue eyes.

He was so close she could feel his breath against her, could smell his alien scent, could see only his black orbs piercing through her. There was no hostility in them, just… what? Curiosity, maybe. Definitely desire. Maybe something else? Need? She let out a shaky breath and allowed herself to fall into his infinitely dark depths. One of her small hands raised and stroked his thick hair, her eyes never leaving his.

Becoming lost in each other. Each felt as though they were a part of the other, incomplete when the other was gone. No formal commitment had been made, but it was as good as done. He would not change his mind once he decided he would stay with her. And she couldn't leave him; even if she wanted to, she had a feeling he wouldn't let her. She belonged to him. His.

Bulma found herself wanting the androids to hurry up and come so Vegeta could defeat them. Then, finally, they could be together, unhindered. A year would have passed, the threat of death would have been vanquished, and he would take her. They would begin their life together, officially. She smiled when she thought how they were practically engaged, then wondered if there was any sort of ceremony saiyans performed other than mating like humans had weddings. How would they become one anyway? She was human, so 'marrying' him as a saiyan would be strange, but the same could be said for him. Surely he wouldn't approve of marrying her in human terms, at least, not without whatever saiyan ritual as well.

"I can't wait for you to destroy the androids," she told him softly, her lips brushing lightly against his.

He smirked and quipped, "I thought you always put your faith in that fool Kakarrot?"

"Kakarrot Shmakarrot. Who cares about him? You're stronger anyway." So maybe she was stroking his ego a little. He deserved it after a hard day's work, right? Plus it might earn her another one of his mind-blowing kisses.

Vegeta's smirk broadened into an evil grin. "Damn right I am, Woman," he said as he captured her lips with his again. This time their hands began to roam over each other's bodies until the scent of arousal was thick in the air and only short gasps for breath and soft moans could be heard. Vegeta felt his control slipping, but he continued on anyway, indulging in her taste and scent he had been deprived of for too long. He knew it would be harder to stop the longer he continued, but at the moment all he cared about was being with his woman.

An hour later the saiyan seemed to wake from a trance as his lust raged inside, urging him onward. He looked down at his blue-haired woman underneath him, face flushed and eyes clouded with desire, panting and looking at him expectantly. His eyes lowered further until he saw that she was wearing only a bra and panties while he was in nothing more than boxers.

His eyes shot back up to hers and a frown formed on his face as he studied her. No doubt she wanted him to go further, break down the barrier he had set up. Forget his pride, his honor, his need to protect her. He shook his head and sat back, straddling her legs. Sniffing the air, he nearly choked on the scent of her arousal mixed with his own; while it wasn't unpleasant, it was unwelcome and heavy in the air. He needed to get away from her immediately. Frantically, he looked around, trying to figure out where they had ended up and growled when he saw that they were on her bed.

"Why'd you stop?" she mumbled, disappointed. She sat up too so she was face to face with him and bit her lip when she saw the panic flaring in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"This," he snarled as he leaped out of her bed and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He didn't stop until he was safely in his room with the door bolted shut. He shook his head again to clear his mind and went to the bathroom for a cold shower he was afraid wouldn't help him this time around.

"That insufferable…" Bulma started before groaning and flopping down on the bed again. She wanted to insult him, say something to make herself feel better. Tell herself he was just a pig-headed jerk. But, for once, she couldn't find it in herself to belittle him for what he did. "No," she told herself, "I won't disrespect his honor."

Of course she didn't have to be happy about his sudden, rushed departure. Rather, she was quite upset by it because she was, once more, left without release. A sigh passed through her lips, slightly swollen from the intensity of Vegeta's kissing. It'd be another long, lonely night.

A/N: Well, I got nothing to say. Just review.

Song: "Where'd You Go?" by Fort Minor