Bulma's birthday began swimmingly; so well, in fact, that she almost forgot the fact that she wouldn't be seeing Yamcha that day. She was a little annoyed when he didn't immediately text her in the morning (he waited until after her lunch with her parents to send her a happy birthday text), but on the whole, she refused to allow him (or his absence) to ruin her day.

It was definitely a self-care, relaxing, lounging type of day. She had spent the afternoon in her pajamas, on her sofa, with ice cream and Netflix, and it was positively glorious. Even more was Vegeta not being an asshole that morning and blasting his heavy metal – she was fairly sure she would have murdered him and buried his body in the woods if he had ruined her birthday. NO ONE was allowed to do such a thing, and so she was relieved when the morning passed without incident.

Eventually, late afternoon came, and she began to get dressed to hit the pub with her friends. Moments like this, she was reminded of how gorgeous she was. "Sexiest woman alive" was fucking right, and she huffed a little with annoyance while putting on her lipstick as her thoughts unwittingly went to her boyfriend.

The disappointment in their relationship was mounting, and as she stared at her flawless reflection, she pondered why she even put up with it. Although she could admit to herself that she was spoiled and (very) a little high maintenance in some regards, that had never translated over to her relationship with Yamcha. She just wanted to spend time with him, and not have him blow her off, something which was happening with more and more frequency. They were high school sweethearts; his boyish and shy nature, along with his sweet gestures and mischievous smile, had solidly won her heart at 16.

But now they were adults entering their 30s, and it felt like they were drifting in different directions; she was a brilliant woman, but she had no idea how to pull them back together. It did not help that sometimes, she wondered if he cared more about his fame than about nurturing their relationship.

She took a breath and cleared her mind. It was her birthday, and she was heading out and it was going to be a great evening with her friends, which was all that mattered.

Moments later, Bulma opened the door and began heading downstairs, her head high as she began to buzz with excitement. However, it was short-lived; down below, she heard the main door to the building open, and then scowled when she recognized the gait of the footsteps climbing the stairs. Rounding the middle landing, she raised her head higher when Vegeta rounded the corner and started up the same flight of stairs, obviously coming home from work by his attire.

"Hello," Bulma said, with the same forced politeness she used with coworkers she couldn't stand. Though she was not prepared to concede anything to him, him passing the Mom Test and being in Goku's good graces made her at least try to be neutral. He did not deserve it, but she would try to rise above.

Despite her tone, her eyes roamed over his work outfit in appreciation. Vegeta was in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and blue tie, and damn, he must have used a tailor because it was fitted to him perfectly. Bonus points for him having loosened up the tie already…she growled a little to herself. Focus, girl.

Vegeta had had his gaze down on his cell phone, but he immediately looked up when he heard her voice. She could not read the look on his face as he appeared to skim over her outfit, before his dark eyes shifted back to hers and he scowled.

"Going out without your broom tonight?" he sneered.

Well, no one could say she hadn't tried. Bulma's blue eyes flared with anger, before she faked a laugh. "Hilarious. At least I have friends to go see, which is more than I can say for you."

"We literally have a mutual friend."

"Goku would befriend you even if you'd committed genocide. He doesn't count."

Vegeta flashed an infuriating smirk. "Your mother seemed to like me."

She glared at him while they walked past each other, neither breaking their eye contact. "Why don't you move into another apartment? We were doing just fine until you moved in."

He snorted. "None of the other neighbors have a problem with me. Maybe the problem is you, and how much of a spoiled brat you are."

"Why don't you just shut up for once in your life?" she growled, finally breaking their eye contact as she marched faster down the stairs. "You're so RUDE!"

"Tch, you started this conversation!" he shot back, reaching the next landing. They both turned the corners, him continuing upstairs and her continuing downstairs, both muttering to themselves.

Bulma stepped outside, thankful that it was cooler now that it was dark out. She quickly put the exchange out of her mind, determined to have a great time. Great drinks and great friends beckoned, and none of that included her inconsiderate boyfriend or the jerk next door.

Later that night after midnight, Vegeta was still wide awake, sitting on a lounge chair out on his balcony. His balcony and Bulma's, side by side at about arm's length distance, both faced a wooded area with trails that were great for his runs. The soft lighting along the trails at night made for a peaceful sight, and he relished in the quiet.

Try as he might, Bulma's words were irritating him more than usual. He had always been a loner, and their little exchange had him itching for some kind of company that night. Thus, Vegeta found himself perusing Tinder on his cell phone, a beer in his other hand. It had been a solid 6 months since he'd gotten laid; he figured he was due.

Plus, bringing someone home for the evening would help rid the images from his mind of how good Bulma had looked coming down the stairs earlier. He was well aware that she was the current reigning "sexiest woman" something or another, but he still hadn't entirely been prepared for how gorgeous she looked that night: with her makeup freshly done, and the stylish way she'd pinned up her hair, and those clothes that fit her so snugly…she was a sight. Of course, he also recognized that his attraction was absolute insanity, and blamed it on the fact that he had not properly dated in a couple years now.

Goku had tried several months ago hooking him up on a blind date with some blonde chick that was cool as ice, so much that she may as well have been some kind of android. She was attractive he supposed, but conversation over dinner had been horribly stilted and awkward, and the vibe wasn't even good enough for a one night stand. She was clearly not interested in him, and the feeling was mutual. Thus Vegeta had concluded that Goku was a fucking awful wingman and that was the last time he'd allow the idiot to set him up on a blind date. Therefore, Tinder would have to do.

Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Vegeta scowled, as no one was catching his eye. He took a swig of his beer, unwilling to give up so easily. If timing as on his side, maybe he could even score a one night stand and get laid right when Bulma returned to her apartment, and force her to listen to HIM have sex for a change. She'd deserve it, for all the bullshit he had to hear between her and her boyfriend. Plus then she'd hear what good sex actually sounded like, he thought with a wicked grin.

Finally, he settled on a profile of someone who caught his eye. She was a brunette, posing on top of a mountain, athletic with a nice smile. A 27-year-old named Amber. Perfect. Vegeta swiped right, and a moment later, got an alert that she swiped right on him too. He smirked when she promptly messaged him, and then chugged the rest of his beer before messaging her back. They swapped a few messages, and a few more pictures, and then when she was convinced that he wasn't some psycho murderer, she agreed to come over.

He grinned wolfishly. The night was finally looking up.

Vegeta messaged her that he would leave the door to his apartment unlocked for her, and then went inside to get ready. A shower, a fresh shave, some cologne – and condoms, obviously. He frowned at the thought, wondering if he had any, and then decided it was best he go check to make sure. If not, he would have to make a quick run to the convenience store a few blocks away.

Luck was not on his side that night, and Vegeta cursed when he rummaged through his belongings and realized he had no condoms. No matter – it would not take him long to go buy some. Amber had said she would be about 40 minutes. Enough time to buy the condoms and shower, but he would probably have to pass on the shave. He only had a little stubble, so it was probably fine anyway. Vegeta quickly and haphazardly pulled on his shoes, snatched his keys, wallet, and phone, then left the apartment, not even bothering to lock the door. The neighborhood was safe, and he would not be gone long.

Moments after he left, Bulma pulled up to the front of the building in an Uber. It was well past midnight, and she was pretty drunk; all she wanted was a hot shower and then to crash in her nice warm bed. She got out of the car, humming as she rather clumsily and slowly made her way upstairs to her third floor apartment. The evening had been grand, filled with great food, strong drinks, and lots of laughs, and her heart was full. Well, mostly. She was a little upset that Yamcha hadn't been there, but not enough to ruin her evening. There had even been some dancing afterwards, which had been a total blast. Unfortunately, her friends hadn't taken the next day off work, so they had called it a night. Bulma figured the timing was probably good anyway – she had had enough to drink for the evening.

Maybe too much to drink, by her difficulty getting her apartment key into the keyhole, and by the wave of dizziness she was feeling. Bulma raised her eyebrows, blinking slowly, and then in frustration just tried the doorknob.

To her shock, the door opened. Had she left in such a hurry that she had forgotten to lock it? Well, no matter. She groaned a little as she entered the apartment – it felt like everything was in reverse, another sign that she had probably overdone it with the alcohol. The lights were off, and so she made her way to the bathroom, dropping her bag on the floor along with her keys while she yawned, kicking off her heels. She shrugged out of her jacket and let that drop as well, before peeling off her top. It got tangled up in her arms over her head, and she accidentally walked right into a wall, cursing. God but she really was disoriented, everything felt backwards! Finally, she managed to pull the top completely off, dropping it on the floor and leaving her in her bra as she disappeared into the bathroom.

A minute later, and Vegeta entered back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. He had bought a box of bareskin ultra pleasure condoms, and had even snagged a bottle of wine. He wasn't planning to start a relationship or anything, but that didn't mean they couldn't have a glass to relax before having fun.

Vegeta was pulling out his cell phone from his pocket to message his Tinder date and see what her ETA was, when he tripped and nearly broke his face against the wall. Bewildered, he looked down – the lights were off, but the blinds were open for his balcony which was letting some light in from the moon and stars, allowing him to see the purse he had snagged his foot on. Even more astonishing were the jacket, heels, and blouse all strewn in a path leading to the bathroom.

A grin spread over his face. It seemed that Amber had beaten him back and started the party without him. He could see the light underneath the bathroom door, and the female clothing items left no doubt. Chuckling, he put the wine on the kitchen counter and opened the box to grab a condom to put in the back pocket of his jeans. He then kicked off his shoes, and pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it on the sofa. Finally, he pulled out two wine glasses and went about pouring them each a drink.

Bulma meanwhile was sitting on the toilet, her head in her hands as she regretted all of her life decisions that had led to this point. She realized with dismay that getting older meant that she probably could no longer drink as much as she could in her early 20s. The fun had been worth it, but boy, her hangover was going to be a killer.

Finally, she was at the sink, washing her hands and then splashing water on her face. It was only then that she realized there was what appeared to be a man's shaving kit spread out on the counter next to the sink. She squinted, confused, but then it suddenly dawned on that it must have been Yamcha's. Yes; if she listened, she could vaguely make out someone in the kitchen.

A huge smile spread over her face as she realized her boyfriend must have come over to surprise her! She flicked off the light and opened the door without giving it more examination (for if she had, she would have noticed that her makeup was nowhere to be seen, and that the toothbrush was not hers). Too excited over the prospect of seeing her boyfriend, and too drunk to pay attention to detail, she left the bathroom and went back out towards the living room, where there was a dim and rather romantic lighting turned on now.

As soon as Bulma entered the living room, now with lighting for her to see better, she blinked a few times as though trying to clear her vision. Even drunk as she was, she finally realized that though the apartment sort of looked like hers in flow and layout (except in reverse), none of the furniture or belongings seemed familiar at all. She looked down at the coffee table where there were two glasses of wine set, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion, when Vegeta came out of the kitchen into the living room.

"You beat me back," he was chuckling as he came into view. He was shirtless, his jeans hanging low, a sight that he was hoping would put his Tinder date in the right mood sooner rather than later. "You were earlier than I was ex…pecting…" Vegeta's voice trailed off, as he and Bulma made eye contact and stared at each other in shocked silence for several long moments, both of their eyes growing wide.

Finally, Bulma screamed, self-consciously covering up her chest. "Vegeta! What are you doing here?!" she shrieked.

Vegeta sputtered a little until he finally found his voice, "I LIVE here! What the hell are YOU doing here? Did you…" his eyes grew even wider, before fury washed over his features. "Did you fucking catfish me on Tinder?!" he yelled.

"WHAT?! How DARE you accuse me of catfishing!" Bulma yelled back, her anger making her forget about covering up her chest as she rested her hands on her hips. Vegeta's eyes followed the motion, taking in the sight of her in her snug black bra that hugged her breasts so perfectly; her chest was heaving with her growing rage, which had her skin flushed. In the dim lighting, he could not have looked away if he had tried. Fortunately, Bulma was too drunk to notice the way he was staring at her as she kept ranting, "Do you see how fucking gorgeous I am? I don't need to catfish anybody, EVER! Get out of my apartment!"

Vegeta's upper lip curled back in anger. "This is MY apartment, infernal wench! YOU get out!" Bulma hiccuped, and he saw the awareness dawn on her as she looked around the apartment again. Something about the way she was blinking, made him pause in realization, before he exhaled through his nose.

"Are you drunk? You are, aren't you?" he stated rather than asked, observing her more critically. He thought she was growing flushed from her anger, but it was clear now that he was paying attention that she was intoxicated.

"No!" Bulma scoffed, raising her head back. "I am perfectly fine!"

"Erm…is this Vegeta's apartment?"

Both Vegeta and Bulma turned to the brunette woman who had just come into the apartment. She was dressed nicely in a summer dress, a denim jacket on over that as her brunette curls were loose and framing her face. She was looking confused and uncomfortable as she looked from Vegeta to Bulma. Their states of undress led her to put 2 and 2 together, and she frowned.

"Amber," Vegeta said in a rushed breath, drawing Bulma's attention. She watched curiously as the features on Vegeta's face tightened as he immediately ignored her and went over to the woman who had just entered. For whatever reason, it made Bulma scowl as she huffed, making the assumption that it must have been a girlfriend. "This isn't what it looks like," Vegeta was saying, gesturing back to Bulma. "She's just my neighbor, and she was just leaving."

"Right…look, I'm not really interested in whatever's going on here, so I'm just going to go," Amber said, turning back towards the door.

"Good!" Bulma called out after her. "He's a jerk anyway! YOU CAN DO BETTER, GIRL!"

"I…" Vegeta started, but he didn't know what to say. He felt awkward pushing the issue with a woman he didn't really know. He just watched in disappointment as his Tinder date walked out the door, his shoulders falling as his hopes of getting laid vanished with the door closing. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Perhaps later he could message her and better explain the situation, once cooler heads prevailed. She was attractive, very much so.

Though not as much as the woman behind him. Vegeta turned back to his unwanted guest, scowling as he watched Bulma rather clumsily try to pick up her belongings off the floor. His nose twitched, and he went over to the sofa, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head.

"Thanks for the cockblock," he sneered, pulling his shirt down. He reached for one glass of wine, and damn near chugged all of it in one shot.

"Lock your door next time," Bulma shot back. She nearly yelped as she almost fell over, making him exhale angrily through his nose. "This wasn't how I wanted my birthday to end, so I don't wanna hear it!"

Vegeta lowered the now-empty wine glass, then snatched up the second one as he raised an eyebrow. "It's your birthday today?" he asked, before knocking back the entire second glass.

"What do you care?" she grumbled, trying to pick up her heels. She looked up in surprise when Vegeta picked one up for her, putting it in her arms with her jacket, shirt, and purse. Her lips pursed as they both scowled at each other.

"I don't."

"Of course not," she growled. "You're my archnemesis."

He snorted, breaking into something dangerously close to a smile. She must have been more drunk than she thought, because her stomach fluttered in some kind of way when his usually hard features eased in amusement.

"Archnemesis, huh?" Vegeta said with a maddening smirk. "You're not dramatic at all, are you? Anyway, if it was your birthday, then where is your loser boyfriend?"

"Yamcha isn't a loser, and it's none of your business!" she snapped at him. Raising her head, she walked past him towards the door as proudly as she could with her head held high.

Vegeta went past her and opened the door for her, stepping aside to let her walk out. That smirk that drove her up the wall was still on his face. "Well, I'm just of the mindset that you don't allow your woman to go to bed alone on her own birthday."

She resisted the urge to hit him with one of her heels. "I don't care what you think!" she loudly yelled, as she walked past him and left his apartment. Vegeta moved over so he was leaning with his back against the doorframe, watching her as she went back to the door leading to her own apartment. He put his hands in his pockets, waiting to make sure she got inside safely; he did not think she would survive if she tried going back down the stairs.

"I think I'm entitled to an opinion, seeing as you kept me from getting laid tonight," he idly commented.

It was then that Bulma noticed he was standing so he was half in, half out of his apartment, with his attention solely focused on her. She glared at him. "You can go back into your apartment now," she peevishly said.

"Tch." He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am already partially in my apartment. Besides. I can't have you tumble down the stairs because you're drunk. You could potentially die, and I'm the last person you've been seen with."

Bulma visibly pondered his words. She blinked a few times, then turned and tried to unlock her door once again with her key. She cursed under her breath, struggling with the task, before she finally looked back at him curiously. Something about her gaze struck him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You want me…to be safe," she stated, studying him with much more clarity than he would have expected from someone who was intoxicated. Vegeta's amused smirk vanished, and he looked almost uncomfortable, not entirely knowing what to say. Bulma turned back to her door and finally managed to get it open, though she briefly hesitated before going in. "Ya know… you're still my archnemesis. But maybe you're not a total asshole. Maybe you're more like…80% an asshole."

"Tch." He then smiled, and something heated spread through her at the sight. If she thought he was handsome when he was serious, the way his smile lit up his face made him the most attractive man she'd ever seen. Bulma cursed herself inwardly, feeling her face heat up as she blamed her insane attraction entirely on the alcohol, for her thoughts were absolutely ludicrous; she had a boyfriend! "I'd say it's more like 85% myself, but I appreciate it nonetheless," he added in amusement.

Bulma blinked, before her nose crinkled up at his words, her whole face looking like she was smelling a carcass. Without another word, she rather quickly went inside her apartment, kicking the door shut behind her.

Once he heard the door lock, Vegeta went back into his own apartment, running a hand up through his hair in mild bewilderment. He was rather enjoying the banter…her fire challenged and amused him, perhaps a little too much. It would not do. They did not click, and even if they did somehow, she was taken.

Trying to take his mind off the whole ordeal – and off his very attractive neighbor – Vegeta snagged the bottle of wine and sat down on his sofa. Taking out his cell phone, he pulled up Tinder again, and began composing an apology for Amber.