Here is the latest chapter! I hope you enjoy it! This is one that I really wanted to publish as soon as possible! I am working on the next chapter right now, but like all college students, this time of year is pretty busy with finals! I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving (if you live in the U.S.) and that you're enjoying December so far!

Bulma stood at the door of the bathroom, feeling both lethargic and irritable. Chills were running down her spine as her body tried to determine how to handle the viral attack it was under.

"Really?" He asked, cocking his head to the side as he eyed his woman up and down. The Bluehead was holding onto the doorframe for support as she caught her breath from the yelling she'd just done. She seemed to be in a fit of both shivers and sweats at the same time, and her chin quivered with the recoil of her words. The saiyan had suspected that she didn't exactly look fit when he'd seen her step out of that man's vehicle, so he didn't see any reason to not believe her statement. "You're sick? Just from that flight?"

Bulma glowered at Vegeta. She was feeling worse than she had in a long time, and that was all he was going to say? She let out a groan, feeling uneasy as her stomach began to lurch. A moment later she slammed the door, running for the toilet. Vegeta stood in the hall, listening as Bulma coughed and groaned from within as she succumbed to her nausea once more.

'Well.' He thought. Aside from a couple of health issues Bulma had encountered when she had that disease known as pregnancy, Vegeta had never seen her sick before. Illness was not unknown to a saiyan, but it certainly took more than the chill of wind to do it. And even then, Vegeta had worked up quite an immune system from his time as a pillager working under Frieza. He listened to the sounds of Bulma rinsing her mouth out again, and finally she re-emerged at the door. The saiyan stepped out of her way, giving her clearance to leave the room.

She stalked out, making a bee-line for her bedroom. When she saw that her window had finally been fixed during the day she let out a sigh of relief, and instantly dragged herself into bed. "Ahh," She moaned, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She felt like she'd run a marathon - she'd been waiting for this moment for too long... Vegeta stood in her doorway and watched as she sank deep into her pillow. "Woman, who was that man you were with?" He asked. Bulma didn't even open her eyes, nuzzling into her blanket. "Who?" She replied, her mind losing itself to sleep.

Vegeta crossed his arms and watched the woman quickly fell asleep in front of him. 'I guess I'll have to wait until her energy has restored before I can ask her about that man.; He with that, the saiyan walked off to find something to do in the empty house.

How oddly peaceful this place felt when it was empty. It was interesting to be sitting in the living room, on the same couch that Mrs. Briefs had pressured Vegeta into holding her fabric while she sewed, and to know that the blonde woman was nowhere near. There were so many noises of life that the saiyan had become accustomed to in this home, and now it was all missing. Bulma, who was in a deep state of sleep upstairs, only seemed to add to the silence.

'Hmm...' Vegeta thought, wondering how long it would be until she stirred. He sat in the silence, with his eyes closed and his ears open, and he waited.

Except for a couple of times when Bulma got up to be sick again in the bathroom, she remained in bed. The day came to an end, with Vegeta finding refuge in the room he'd stayed in before. He'd stopped by his woman's room on his way to his own, peeping in to see that she was laying incredible still. He considered stepping in to make sure that the ailed beauty was still breathing, but as if on cue she let out a groan and rolled over. Not wanting to disturb her, the saiyan proceeded to his own bed.

It bothered him that he hadn't been able to confront her about the beta male, but Vegeta found that his anger lessened as the hours went by. While he had initially been in a fit of rage, the silence of the house had done to dull his fury into a more civilized state of displeasure. It was easy for him to rest that night, knowing that he'd have his talk with Bulma before her parents returned.

The next morning when Vegeta rose from his sleep he was nearly surprised to hear noises coming from downstairs. The sun had hardly risen into the sky, and yet it seemed that the house was already awake. He'd grown so accustomed to waking up earlier than anyone else when he'd stayed at the Briefs residence before, so this was certainly different. When he'd gone to bed the night before the house had been completely empty, aside from Bulma. She'd been in a state that seemed nearly death-like, so who was it causing the commotion on the first floor? With a grunt the saiyan made his way downstairs, readying himself for the social interaction that would be required when he discovered who it was. He couldn't help but to hope that it wasn't Mr. or Mrs. Briefs - the saiyan really had started to enjoy the privacy he'd grown accustomed to the day before, and he wasn't ready for it to end.

"You're awake?"

Bulma was laying on the couch, snuggled into a thick comforter, her face glued to the television in front of her. She muttered in response, not caring to speak a coherent word.

The saiyan crossed his arms. He didn't enjoy seeing her in this state - where was the defiant and resilient woman he knew so well? She looked as if she'd given up on everything, and the sight was not one he cared for. "Are you going to speak?" He challenged, hoping to motivate the fight back into her.

Bulma let out a groan. "I'm too tired." The truth was that hadn't eaten dinner the night before because she was busy sleeping off her nausea. While she had been prepared to cook for herself when her parents were away, her sickness had drained her of any will. Skipping her meals the day before hadn't helped with how bad she felt, either. She was completely drained of energy, and even laying on the couch was exhausting. Just making her way down the stairs had been enough to render her dizzy and to deplete her of breath! The thought of standing at a stove for half an hour was one that she was going to need to prepare for!

"I see. Then you don't mind if I go out." It was obvious to Vegeta that it was going to be another uneventful day, with Bulma too apathetic to have a productive conversation with. Bulma hardly even let out a grunt in response, leaving the stirred saiyan to his own devices as he walked away in thought.

Bulma stared at the TV, hugging a pillow as she continued to fight back the sensation of impending nausea. She had always been strong willed, but in a previous life she'd still never hesitated to beg for help when she needed it. Yet, ever since Bulma had met Vegeta, her way of thinking had slightly altered. His pride came off as both admirable and foolish, and yet a part of it had slowly rubbed off on her. It was especially evident after their breakup. Something inside made her want to prove herself to Vegeta - that she was strong and didn't need him or his muscles to take care of her. She didn't want to showcase how bad she felt to someone who always made such an effort to tough it out through his own pain. When they'd been a couple it had been different - she'd been in an emotional state that he'd seen a lot of. But now? Now she was much happier, and he didn't deserve to see her in a vulnerable state. She told herself that she was too good for it.

Bulma let out another groan. She was half awake, dazed from too much TV, and she realized that she hadn't heard a single noise come from within the house for quite some time. "Vegeta?" She muttered, her eyelids growing heavy. There was no response, and the Bluehead allowed her lids to clamp shut. It was just as she'd expected! Vegeta couldn't care less about her condition. He'd hardly even checked on her before he'd left her completely alone. He wasn't even in the house anymore! Only thinking of himself, he'd probably gone off to train... As he always did...

It was annoying, but Bulma was so drowsy at that point that she could hardly care.

How strange it felt. The Bluehead couldn't help but to be oddly nostalgic during a moment like this. This was the first time she'd ever been sick and completely alone, with nobody to assist her. She would have to completely take care of herself. She didn't have her mom, an aunt, not even a friend.

Nobody...

"How long are you going to lay there like that?"

Bulma hadn't even opened her eyes yet, and her brows were already furrowed. "Leave me alone," She mumbled. There was a layer of sweat built up on her forehead, and her tongue felt so dry that it was hard to form words. She instantly began to lament her situation - feeling both desperately thirsty, yet too tired to want to get herself something to drink.

"Come on, Woman. What kind of bug is going to make you this pitiful?"

Those were fighting words to Bulma, and it was enough to make her open her eyes and sit up. "Who are you to-" She began to retort, but her eyes widened when she realized her surroundings. She was clutching her own blanket, laying in her own bed. She was about to ask what had happened when Vegeta beat her to it.

"You looked so pathetically uncomfortable in your state downstairs, so I moved you up here."

The ailed beauty, her unkempt hair frizzing out around her, dropped her face to hide her reaction. Why were her cheeks stinging with the threat of a blush? An image of Vegeta cradling her in his arms as he carried her bridal style to her room was one she hadn't expected. Something about her having absolutely no memory of such an occurrence was embarrassing, as well. Bulma didn't have too much time to succumb to her emotions, though. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to get a good look.

"Is that soup?!" She gasped, her eyebrows raising so high that it nearly hurt.

"We both needed food, didn't we?" The Saiyan grunted.

The bowl was sitting on her bedside table, coupled with a spoon to complete the set. Bulma let out a happy moan as she grabbed the dish, pulling it into her lap. She didn't care if she made a mess while she ate in bed - she was hungry, and she was going to eat!

"But, how did you...?" She asked with a smile, stirring the dish in anticipation.

"How did I?" Vegeta let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Woman, did you assume I'm not capable of preparing meals? How else would I have eaten during the trips I took when I worked under Frieza? Was I to just starve during our missions?"

Bulma didn't respond before popping the spoon into her mouth. The broth was nearly tasteless, and she swallowed it with a gulp. Vegeta let out another chuckle at that. "My, what a face." He teased.

"There's no seasoning." She commented. It wasn't that she was complaining - she was so hungry that she could hardly care. Rather, she was just trying to explain her reaction. Vegeta rolled his eyes. "You Earth inhabitants and your silly expectations." He turned, making his way across the room while Bulma ate. "Herbs and salts may make a meal more pleasurable, but are they anything more than that - a pleasantry? I caught the fish and boiled it into a stew. Should it matter how well it tastes if it's helping you to survive?" The saiyan ran a finger across the glass of Bulma's window, inspecting how it had been fixed since he'd destroyed it.

"Right, right..." It was now Bulma's turn to roll her eyes. She didn't speak again until her bowl was empty, and when she finally looked back up she saw Vegeta still standing by the window, his back straight as he peered outside.

"Vegeta?" She said softly, interrupting the saiyan from his concentration. He turned, glancing to her from over his shoulder. "Why did you break my window the other night?"

The saiyan raised an eyebrow. "It wasn't intentional. I was just trying to get your attention and the damned thing blew out."

Figured.

Bulma placed her empty bowl on the bedside table, her heart beating with a new glow after her meal. The energy had started in her throat as she swallowed down the warm broth, and from there it traveled through each and every crevice of her body, filling her with a reborn motivation to be mobile once again. Her mood was rising, and she smiled as she kicked the blanket off from her legs.

"Woman." Vegeta turned back to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. His spoke in a serious tone, his posture straight. "Now that you seem to be in a dignified state once again, I have a question for you."

It was never a good sign when somebody announced that they were planning an interrogation. What on Earth could he have to ask her about? Bulma hadn't done anything wrong, so she wasn't worried. Perhaps this is why it took her completely by surprise when Vegeta finally said "explain what business you have with that beta male."

Beta male? Bulma was caught completely off guard, and it took her several seconds before the words registered in her brain. Suddenly she realized - beta male was the term Vegeta had used to described Tadashi! "What do you mean 'business'?" She replied, her defenses building.

Vegeta, who had managed to subdue his irritation up until that point, was fighting to keep himself from cracking as images from the day before went back to his head. "Don't play coy with me, Woman. Were you not receiving a ride from that man!? Who is he, and how are your parents on such good terms with him?"

"That man was giving me a ride because I'm sick!" Bulma snapped, though she wasn't entirely mad. It was annoying to have to explain herself, but it was also amusing to think that Vegeta was actually jealous of Tadashi. "And my Dad knows him because he works at our company! He's related to an old friend! My mom hadn't even met the guy until yesterday!"

Her words made sense in the saiyan's ears, but they didn't do to entirely comfort him. "If you were feeling that ill, someone else could have escorted you."

"Really? Someone else? And who would that have been?" Bulma crossed her arms to signify her challenge.

"Someone who doesn't have ulterior motives!" Vegeta snapped, his hand balling into a fist.

Ulterior motives? This was too much for her to take. She let out a laugh and stood from the bed, running a hand through her oily hair. The conversation was ridiculous, and she needed a shower. "Vegeta, get over it!" She began to make her way to the hall. "The kid's like half my age, there are no ulterior motives! Come on!"

..

It was evident enough to the saiyan that Bulma had no interest in the boy romantically. He'd been in enough disbelief that she'd be interested in someone of that male's frail state, and it really didn't take much convincing to drive that reality home. It was good to have it confirmed that his woman wasn't fawning over the beta male, but that did nothing to soothe his apprehension to the boy. There was no doubt in Vegeta's mind that this blonde man was interested in Bulma, and that was something he really wasn't okay with...

When Bulma emerged from her shower she smelled of lavender and honey, a towel wrapped tightly over her head while she stepped through the house in a thin bathrobe. Vegeta, who had been sitting alone in his room, watched as Bulma strolled past his door. She seemed to be in much better spirits, but still looked quite weak. He listened as she made her way downstairs, seemed to fiddle with something, and returned carrying a basket of laundry in her arms.

She stopped at his door frame, balancing the basket on her hip. "Oh, Vegeta?" She called cheerfully, and the saiyan looked up with a curious scowl. His eyes ran over her figure, which wasn't hidden under the robe's thin material at all. She was looking good - real good. And he wasn't sure if he'd ever been completely alone with her in the house before... It was an experience that he could get used to...

"The ship is all yours if you were wanting to train." She gave him an assuring smile, before letting out a cough due to her condition.

The saiyan raised a cocky eyebrow, a smirk forming at his lips. "Does this mean I finally have your permission to stay in these quarters?" He asked, his tone slightly condescending as he locked eyes with hers.

"Don't push it!" She warned, placing her free hand on her hip and throwing her head back in an dictatorial pose. It was only a second later that she found herself gritting her teeth, though. 'Great!' She thought. She would have looked real authoritative in that moment, if it hadn't been for her towel that went flying to the ground as a result. "Damnit!" She quickly bent down to snatch her towel up from the carpet in a swift motion, as if Vegeta hadn't just been a witness. He let out a laugh and stood, making his way for the door. As he passed his woman he gave her a light pat on the head, as if he were silently saying 'there there, at least you tried.'

Bulma watched as he descended down the stairs. 'He hasn't won!' She thought, throwing the towel into her laundry basket with a hiss. 'I CHOSE to let him stay! He didn't win!'

Vegeta was still smirking when he clicked on the gravity machine in the familiar ship. He really did enjoy interacting with her when they were alone...

Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I'm glad that you guys seemed to enjoy the "beta male" exchange that took place. Tadashi is such a strange character, but I've been having fun with him. I'm really excited for the semester to end, because writing this has been so much fun for me. I'm also really excited to read even more of all of you guys' stories, too!

Take care, and thanks again! ^^