"Hey Bulma."

"This is your fault!"

"Come again?"

Confused, Chichi stopped typing and raised an eyebrow at the accusation. She had been working through her lunch break when she received an SOS text from Bulma. She assumed it was to bitch about one of her subordinates. But, but from her greeting, that wasn't the case.

Pacing back and forth in her living room, Bulma continued the verbal assault. "This is your fault. It has to be. There's no way it could be a coincidence." She rambled.

After peeling her eyes open from a wine induced sleep Bulma tried to calm her still frazzled nerves with a hot shower. When that didn't work, she called the only person who could.

"What?"

"Everything was going so well. I had finally gotten my life under control and now it's turned to shit! Ow! Motherfu…"

"Are you ok?" Chichi asked, hearing the phone fall to the ground.

"No." Bulma hissed, sitting down to cradle her throbbing foot. "I just hit my toe on this god forsaken sofa, I'm freaking out and I probably have diabetes from binge eating chocolate covered almonds all night!"

'Great...she's unstable and on sugar high' Chichi thought with a roll of her eyes.

"How about you start from the beginning and tell me what's going on?"

"I saw Satan himself last night."

Hearing the confession, Chichi closed her eyes and prayed for patience. "Are you high?" Knowing her friends propensity for the green herb.

"Oh for fuck sake, VEGETA! I saw Vegeta last night."

"Vegeta…that's what you're freaking out about." She responded dryly, wishing she could see her stink face through the phone. "Bulma, you were bound to run into him again."

"In the middle of the night after 3 years?! He was in my favorite store." Bulma whined dramatically as she sank into the plush cushions.

"And that warranted you pinning me with the scarlet letter?"

"Chichi, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of this man in years. All of a sudden, you just happen meet my exes arch nemesis and the next thing I know I'm being threatened by his glistening muscles in front of a meat case!"

Snorting, Chichi closed her laptop and took out her lunch bag. Knowing full well no work was getting done now. "Glistening were they?"

"No one should look that good in a quickie mart at 12am!"

"Were you in your 'No one's gonna see me' clothes?" Taking a bite of her sandwich.

"I was wearing a t-shirt and tights thank you!"

"I bet you had on those ugly ass fuzzy slippers I told you to stop wearing outside." Already knowing the answer to that, she nonchalantly munched on a chip.

"You are not helping the situation. I am having a nervous breakdown here!"

Taking another bite of her sandwich, Chichi silently listened to her friend rant about the impromptu meeting. In all honesty, she wasn't surprised by her behavior. Bulma had gone to extreme lengths to distance herself from that man. She stopped going to all the places they used to frequent. Dropped any mutual acquaintances they had and abruptly moved across town into a max security high rise apartment. Not that she could blame her, but distance wasn't going to burn away the love she still had for him. Bulma thought she hid it well, but Chichi knew the truth.

Lying in the hospital with career ending injuries, Vegeta saw his dreams of success crumbling before him, and like most prideful men, he pushed away the one person who loved him the most. Chichi remembered the long nights holding Bulma as she cried, more worried about him that herself. Days when she listlessly watched the door hoping he'd walk through it. Only to come to the realization that he wasn't coming back. Now that he'd resurfaced, she was going to be forced to face all those feelings she held inside.

Despite her friends belief, Chichi never hated Vegeta. In fact, she thought his pride and her vanity were a match made in heaven. When she first saw them together preening like peacocks, it solidified any doubt that they belonged together. Both stubborn and with fiery tempers, as if they were two sides of the same coin.

No, she didn't hate him. Her dislike came when he walked out as soon as things got hard. Bulma would have been there for him through it all, but he treated her feelings like garbage. And for Chichi, that was unforgivable.

"He wanted to talk! Can you believe that? Talk?! After all this time?"

"What did he say?"

"Well, we didn't get that far. The security guard…"

"What security guard?" Chichi asked abruptly.

"It's fine. We were in the parking lot and the store security guard saw us yelling….well not really yelling, but it was intense. Vegeta made some comment about not wanting me to feel threatened and left."

Narrowing her eyes, Chichi listened carefully to Bulma's explanation. Wanting to make sure she didn't have to go and lay hands on that bastard. "Did you feel threatened?"

"No Chichi, you don't have to kill him. I was just surprised."

"Ok, if you say so. Do you want me to come by after work?"

"No, I'm fine…" Before she could finish her sentence she heard the doorbell ring.

"Hold on a sec. I think I got a delivery. Yes!" Walking towards the door.

"It's me!" A deep voice called out.

Halting in her footsteps, Bulma immediately knew who the voice belonged to. Peering through the peephole, her suspicions were confirmed by the angry widows peak staring back.

"On second thought, yes, please come by. I may need to have my sanity checked."

"Is everything ok?"

"Uh huh. Just come over and bring something greasy. I gotta go." Hanging up on her bewildered friend.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her pink tank top and pajama pants. Hating to once more be caught under dressed. But what the hell. She was more curious to find out how he knew where she lived than him seeing her jiggle.

Snatching the door open, she immediately accosted him with questions. "Are you crazy? How the hell did you find me? Better yet, how did you get in?"

Standing there in a grey hoodie and joggers, he calmly raised a black manicured eyebrow at her questions. "Do I look like someone that would sneak in anywhere?"

"This building has security. You'd have to be buzze…"

"I live here Bulma." Cutting her off rudely. "I hate to spoil the surprise, but you're not the only one with a little money." He replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Excuse me?!"

"Are we gonna fight about my financial status at the door or are you gonna let me in?" He asked curtly.

Hesitant, Bulma stared at him warily. Still concerned about the can of worms his presence had opened up. She'd be lying if she said confronting him didn't scare her. Not for fear that he'd harm her, but that she couldn't control herself.

Sensing her reluctance, Vegeta released a frustrating breath. He knew her behavior was his fault, but it angered him to know she didn't even want to be near him.

"Forget it." Taking a step back. "The last thing I need is security escorting me back to my room."

"Wait." Stopping him before he could walk away. "Come in." Opening the door for him to enter.

Narrowing his eyes, he walked passed her and stepped inside. Closing the door, Bulma mentally slapped herself. The light scent of his cologne terrorizing her olfactory senses. 'Oh god why does he always have to smell so good?' She complained silently. He only wore Burberry or Hugo Boss and today was definitely Burberry. The warm tones reminding her crumpled black sheets…

Turning she leaned against the door and watched as he looked around her space. When she moved, she decided to decorate herself. If anyone could tell by her blue dyed locks, it was her favorite color and she had it everywhere. From the light blue throw hanging over the back of her gray sofa along to the different shades of pillows planted in the corners. A glass coffee table sat in front filled with books, both old and new. She had black and white silhouettes of women adorning her white walls with more stacks of books lined underneath. And for the last ode to her favorite color, light blue sheer drapes covered her floor to ceiling windows, which overlooked the bustling city.

"Hmpf, it's cleaner than I expected." He smirked over his shoulder.

Blushing at his comment, she walked towards the kitchen. "I'm a whole adult now! I know how to clean! Do you want something to drink?"

"If you says so, waters fine." Taking a seat. He watched as she padded back to him with two clear bottles in hand. When she leaned down he noticed the jiggle of her breast. The little pink tank she wore putting her nipples on display.

Needing the cool water, he took a sip and forced his eyes back to her face. "How have you been?" He asked after she tucked herself into the chaise across from him.

"I've been fine. Working as usual. When did you move in? I've lived here for almost three years and I think I would've seen you."

'So this is where she ran off to.' He thought with a cluck of his tongue.

"I moved in a month ago. It's closer to my clients."

"Clients?"

"I'm a personal trainer now."

"A personal trainer? And you're clients are here?" Raising her eyebrows at his revelation. If that was the case then it made sense that he could afford the seven figure price tag. Only the upper 10% lived in this area.

"You seem surprised." Crossing his arms at her skeptical look.

"No, it just…that doesn't seem like you. You hate people." She snorted darkly, remembering he had zero patience, just like her.

"Yes well, after….rehab...I was advised to take a break from competitive fighting. This was the next option. Besides, training actors isn't so bad. Most of them don't excessively gab all day." He replied with a shrug.

Hearing him mention rehab, Bulma was brought back to him lying in the ICU with a shattered right arm and hand. Not to mention the broken ribs. The nerve damage his arm suffered severely affecting it's mobility. He required two resetting surgeries and months of rehabilitation. It hurt her to see him so broken, but it hurt even more when he pushed her away.

Sniffing at the memory, she looked out the window. "Seems you're doing just fine if you're so active now."

Hearing her clipped tone, Vegeta watched as she tried not to cry. That shit feeling he had before hitting him in his gut. Unbeknownst to her, he'd noticed her within day of moving in. He mostly worked at night so their schedules were different, but it was during one of her midnight store runs that he saw her entering their shared garage.

At first he thought he was seeing things, but there was no mistaking that blue hair. For weeks he watched her. Unsure if he should approach her or not. Coming back from rehab to find her apartment barren spoke volumes. She left no forwarding address and changed her number, everything was gone. Going to her father was out of the question and visiting that shrew she called a friend would've probably gotten him killed. So he let her be. He told her to go and she left.

Seeing her again just reopened all those old wounds. Bulma was not homemaker, but that never bothered him. He loved her strength and intelligence. She was confidence in it's purest form and her passion was undeniable. No woman could go toe to toe with him in an argument and no woman could scream his name the way she did. She was special and he broke her.

"I didn't blame you." He said softly, breaking their silence.

Looking over at him, she saw the troubled expression on his face. As if he was trying to find the right words to say. "I remember what I said to you and it was fucked up. I don't blame you for what happened."

At his words, the tears she'd been holding fell down her cheeks. Bulma didn't know what to expect when she let him in. Maybe some small talk, but an apology? After three long years of pining after this man? She wasn't ready for that.

Getting up from the sofa, he crouched down in front of her and placed his hand on hers. "Vegeta, I don't think.." She sniffled, starting to pull away.

"Calm down woman!" He whispered gruffly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "I'm not trying to get in your pants. I'm not a complete asshole."

Settling, she let him finish. "I know it's probably three years too late, but I was wrong. I'm not asking you to forgive me, but the least we can do is talk, be cordial."

"Cordial? You hate talking." Wiping her cheek.

"You know what I mean." Staring intently into her clear blue eyes.

Looking down at their their hands, she sighed and nodded. "I'll think about it."

Checking his watch, he stood and fished out his wallet. Taking out a card, he sat it down of the coffee table. "I have appointment to get to now, but here's my cell. I live on the 6th floor, apt 606. My schedule varies, but give me a call and we can link up. Maybe this time without the waterworks."

Rolling her eyes, she got up to walk him out. At the door, he kissed fingers and pressed them to her lips. "Don't be a stranger."

Touching her lips, she watched as he walked towards the elevator. Each step dripping with that confident swag she missed. Closing the door, she leaned against the wood and pressed a hand to her heart, noting the moistness in her panties from his touch. The man had only been in her presence for less than an hour and she was already falling again.

"I'm so screwed."

….

Arriving hours later, Chichi used her guest code to enter Bulma's garage. After changing clothes, she stopped off and picked up a pizza before heading over. If Bulma wanted grease, Chichi had all the cheesy, garlicy goodness she could ask for. Parking, she started gathering their food when her cell phone rang. Seeing the caller id as Son's gym she quickly answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey Chichi? It's Goku."

"Hi, um sorry I had to cancel our session today, but something came up." Leaning against her car door.

"Yeah, Krillin told me. I was just calling to make sure everything's ok."

"Oh…that's nice of you. But, you really didn't have to."

"I know. But, after yesterday, I was hoping I didn't run you off."

Remembering their little moment, Chichi licked her lips. She'd have to be blind if she couldn't see how he looked at her.

"No, you didn't run me away." She replied, smirking at his relieved sigh.

"Great. I was worried."

"It's ok. I appreciate you calling."

"Wait..um, actually there is something else." He said nervously

"What?"

"Would like to have dinner with me?"

"Huh?" Surprised by his request.

"I know it's sudden, but I'd really like to get to know you." His deep velvety voice softening.

"Uh.."

"I clean up pretty good." Trying to entice her.

Gigging at his comment. "I bet you do."

"How about this, just think about it. I can even cook for you if you don't want to go out."

"Cook? Somehow I don't see you in the kitchen."

"Hey, I can make a pretty mean steak!"

"Hmpf. I'll think about it." Smiling at his cute laugh. "I gotta go now. My friend's waiting on me."

"Sure. I don't want to keep you. Good night Chichi."

"Night."

Hanging up, she stared at her phone and bit her lip. The idea of him cooking with no shirt on making her hum. "Oh god. I think I've spent too much time with Bulma."

Gathering the food, she made her way to the elevator.

….

"Go!"

"Bulma…"

"No, I've said this before. Just because I'm in crisis does not mean you have to turn down good dick. Go!" Bulma urged taking another swig of beer.

Over several slices of their sausage and spinach pizza, Bulma gave her the run down of her ordeal. Chichi suspected something, but an in person apology wasn't it.

"Why don't we get back to Lucifer graciously kneeling down and baring his soul to you."

'You're never gonna let that go."

"He lives on the 6th floor in apartment 606. Can't get any closer to Satan than that."

"Fine, he's the devil. A very sincere devil. I'm just so confused right now." She sighed, leaning back against the foot of her sofa.

Instead of the dining table, they sat on the floor in her living room. Tucking her feet, Chichi turned and looked at her friend. The days activities showing on her tired face.

"Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't know. He lives here so it's not like I can avoid him. What do you think I should do?"

Opening another bottle, Chichi pursed her lips. "I'd say fuck him, but I feel like you'll take that literally."

"You're not helping!"

"Bulma, you and I both know you're gonna call him. If you do, that's fine. But if really you want my advice, take it slow. He was ass and you don't owe him anything. Your time is a gift and he needs to understand that."

Nodding, she held up her bottle for them to toast in agreement. "Agreed. And you're going on that date!"

Groaning, Chichi took a hefty sip, wondering just what she had gotten herself into.