Here's the latest chapter! This one is a little shorter than I'd prefer. I had been planning to include more development, but I decided that I would rather leave some of it until the next update!

I also wanted to thank you all for your unyielding words of support. You guys and your reviews all mean so much to me. Enjoy!

"...We aren't a couple - we aren't even together!..."

"...If you tell me to do something, I'm going do the opposite just to prove that I can..."

"...Perhaps if you could learn to stop thinking of yourself every minute of the day, you'd realize that!..."

What Bulma had said during her and Vegeta's fight stung his ears like an unpleasant wasp. And days after they were spoken, long after her voice stopped replaying in his head, the words still left the saiyan stuck in a residual darkened cloud that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He was so vexed by this dent that Bulma had put in his ego, and he had absolutely no desire to be the first person to follow up with her after such a fight.

Having kept his tongue in his mouth up until their dispute, Vegeta had completely blindsided Bulma with his hostility. For all she knew his attitude had manifested from thin air, unaware that his disdain for Tadashi had been building for weeks leading up to the incident. She didn't care to approach Vegeta about the subject; as far as she was concerned he owed her a deep apology for overreacting the way he did. And so, with this outlook between them both, neither of the two spoke to one another or attempted to clarify their side of things. Both waiting for the other to make the first move to establish common ground, the fight hung over the Briefs household like an extremely large elephant in an abnormally small room.

To Vegeta it came as no surprise that Bulma was behaving in such a stubborn manner, yet the words she'd spoken came as too hard of a blow for him to simply shrug off. He'd been attempting for months to work his way back into her approval, swallowing his tongue on more than one occasion and forcing himself to handle conflicts in a way he'd never attempted to before. He'd summoned more patience than he'd been aware he even had in him, choosing to use his tongue and his brain to negotiate his case, rather than his fists. He'd tolerated Mrs. Briefs, biting his cheek when she pulled him in for a hug instead of pushing her away... He had even shifted the way he approached his training, being careful to not allow it to consume his entire world the way it did before his encounter with the Androids. After Vegeta and Bulma's nightly encounter in which they both became reacquainted with one another, he'd been elated. Finally, after countless nights of sexual tension and countless days of planning his approaches carefully, finally it was all paying off.

Finally - it had finally felt as if he was getting somewhere!

Yet now, with how much time she'd been spending away, and her disregard to Vegeta's obvious disapproval, any optimistic outlook had completely drained from his mind. How dare she listen to all of the attempts Vegeta had made to redeem himself, receive all of the gestures that the saiyan had offered, stand witness to all of the adjustments he'd forced himself through, and still behave in such a callous way? The saiyan prince was at his wit's end, tired of struggling to make things work. He had grown more than fed up with constantly choosing to put aside his ego in effort to maintain civility. He was a saiyan prince, and he was not going to continue to allow his actions to be mocked and deflected.

'Well,' Vegeta found himself thinking. 'If she wants to stick her foot in her own mouth, then let her.'

It was with this mentality that the saiyan marched downstairs into Dr. Brief's lab after dinner one evening, approaching the middle-aged professor as he tweaked away at an experimental remote. The scientist hardly had time to even look up from his project before Vegeta spoke, his words cutting through any type of formalities that might have otherwise been exchanged.

"Explain how one goes about obtaining a place to live on this disgusting planet." The saiyan's mood was in a chronically sour state by this point, and he also didn't appreciate the vulnerability that came with asking another person for advice. Especially not when it was somebody who was so closely related to the woman who'd caused his ire. Yet, despite how infuriated his ego was, Dr. Briefs served as useful to Vegeta. Sure, the saiyan was a strong-headed and independent man, but he was known to overlook that if it served to his advantage. "Well?"

"Hmm," Dr. Briefs set his project aside. "A place to live, you say?" He clasped his hands together and leaned back in his chair, placing a knowing look upon Vegeta. Slowly the professor's mustache began to spread into a sly grin. "I see. Well, my boy, I have to say. Bulma didn't mention anything to me about plans to move out!"

Vegeta growled, turning his head as if he were avoiding being slapped in the face. "What does that woman have to do with my intent to have my own place? What I desire is for myself, and myself only."

"Oh?" The professor's smile dropped. He wasn't one to press for details, nor did he typically care to. He was a systematic man, filled with pride to have an answer to nearly anything. If Vegeta was coming to him for advice, he was going to certainly receive it. "Well," Dr. Briefs muttered, running a finger through his facial hair. "It just so happens that I still keep in touch with some of the men who built this house..."

"You do?" Vegeta smirked. It was then that he pulled back a vacant chair, taking a seat across from Dr. Briefs. "Now we're getting somewhere. Now listen, I'm only going to tell you my requirements once. I expect you to listen. I want construction to be finalized immediately..."

Bulma had never been to a baby shower before. She hadn't even had one for her own baby, so why did she think she would be capable of planning such an event for somebody else? Krillin, who originally reacted with confusion and shock, had reluctantly agreed to assist in helping her plan the party, but so far things had been a disaster. Bulma had this talent – a gift of gab that could guilt trip anyone into doing her bidding, even if what she wanted didn't make any sense at all.

It was tradition to include all of the expectant mother's friends in the planning of the baby shower, wasn't it? And as far as Bulma was concerned, Chi-chi didn't really have any friends... which was why she thought to include Goku's buddies instead. The problem with this plan, though, was that aside from Bulma herself, all of Goku's friends had been men. And if she was having trouble constructing ideas on how to throw this party, how could she have expected these men to be of any help!

Krillin and Bulma were sitting in a tea shop, staring blankly at a list of scribbled ideas. Finally, after the two had sat in silence for a considerable amount of time, the bald man decided to clear his throat. "Why can't we just scrap this whole project and order her a pizza instead?" He preemptively held his hands up, as if shielding himself from a fist. As if he knew his suggestion was foolish and he expected Bulma to attack him in response.

No violent reaction came from the Bluehead though, as she sighed and ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "We just can't do that!" She groaned, allowing her body to fall over her notebook as she let out a muffled sigh. "We need to show support! Chi-Chi needs us right now!"

"I just don't think Chi-Chi will care too much either way," Krillin explained nervously, scratching his shiny head as he tried to think of something appropriate to say. He knew this was a bad idea when Bulma initially proposed it to him over the phone. He'd even told her that he didn't think it would go smoothly, but she'd pulled the whole "Goku's dead and Chi-Chi needs us" card, and he'd taken the bait. Now, after weeks of struggling to come to an agreement, the poor Z-Fighter was just desperate to find a way out.

Everything had been a struggle so far – trying to set a date, trying to determine what food to prepare and how much, trying to decide what exactly Chi-Chi would want to receive as gifts, what would be unnecessary... Even planning décor was proving to be a strain. What activities would take place to set this party aside fro any other? Overwhelmed with details and frustrated that she'd dragged Krillin into this mess along with her, Bulma looked up from her notebook and gave her friend a sympathetic smile. "This is pointless, isn't it?"

The short man, who had noticed on several occasions how oddly matured Bulma seemed to be since the defeat of Cell, wasn't used to her acting in such a way towards him. She'd always insisted of being the know-it-all behind every scheme. And when she didn't know something, she had a way of pretending she did... It just wasn't like her to admit such a thing! Not when it had been her idea in the first place! "No, no!" Krillin waved his hands, thinking 'yes – yes it is!' "It-it's a nice idea! We should just hire a planner to sort everything out for us, don't you think?"

"If a planner can organize this so easily, then I should be able to, too!" Bulma huffed, standing from the table she'd been sitting at and scooping the notebook into her arms. "I just need to re-access the situation! That's all!"

This, Krillin smiled with relief. Now, this was the Bulma he'd come to know so well. It was just like her to be stubborn about something once she made her mind up on it, and the Z-Fighter couldn't help but to feel empathetic as he watched her gather up her belongings. 'If only I knew another girl,' He thought desperately, wishing he could just remove himself from the situation for once and for all. Suddenly, it clicked.

"Eighteen."

Bulma paused in her actions, looking up from the table with her mouth dropped open. "Eighteen?" She echoed, unsure on how to react. Krillin gulped, nodding hesitantly as a drop of sweat formed at his temple. His attraction to the blonde was no secret, especially after he'd wished her into being a human. But he'd kept his relationship fairly private up until this point. This was the first time he'd admitted to anyone that he was even on good terms with her.

"You think... You think she'd be any help?" Bulma asked slowly, choosing her words wisely. She was unsure of what to think of the ex-android, not having paid her much thought since she'd become a human. It was no surprise that Krillin had established a relationship with her, and yet it hadn't occurred that such a thing would evolve so quickly.

"Well, Eighteen is a girl - I'll bet Eighteen will have some ideas!" Krillin attempted, thinking, 'I hope she doesn't kill me for this...'

Bulma eyed the man before her as she considered his words. "Eighteen used to be a machine..." She reminded, her face reflecting a blank expression.

"Well, I'm just saying... And well, Eighteen might-"

"That's fine! Krillin, really, that's fine." A hesitant smile was forming at the Bluehead's lips. There was not a single fiber in her being that made Bulma believe that Eighteen would be any more capable of planning a baby shower than she was. "If you don't think she'd mind, she's free to suggest some ideas... And I'm sure everyone would love to see her at the party... But I'll take care of everything myself. Really, it's fine."

Krillin gulped, taking this moment to grab his own belongings. It was now or never for him to make his escape, and he gave a quick nod to the Bluehead before making a dash for the door. Bulma watched as he went, shaking her head. "Imagine what Eighteen would do to him if I had actually taken his offer seriously..."

.

Bulma was making her way back home, her notebooks laying in the seat beside her as she flew. It had been exactly one week since the blowout between her and Vegeta, and still neither had spoken to the other. The Bluehead kept herself busy at work during the day, and busy with Trunks during the evening. It wasn't hard for time to quickly fly by, and though it bothered her to think about how harsh Vegeta has been, it was easy to distract herself when there was so much going on in her world.

Vegeta hadn't bothered to speak to her in the slightest. There were times when Bulma encountered him, either in a hallway or even at dinner, but the saiyan would stare down at his food as if it had insulted him, taking quiet bites and glaring at his plate. His demeanor had grown distant and cold, much like how he'd been when she'd first met him. And while it bothered the Bluehead to see him act in such a way, she never once realized that his current resentment had stemmed from her. She simply thought he was finally showing his true colors, once again, and whatever it had been to set him off was unbeknownst to her.

The Bluehead descended upon the Briefs household, and she took note of a large structure on her street as she did so. This building - it had appeared suddenly one day. She'd come home from work to see the skeleton of what looked to be a future house. It was on the property adjacent to her own, one that had previously been merely a field of trees and grass. Evidently she was going to have a new neighbor, and whoever was moving in sure seemed to be in a hurry. It had only taken one day of her being away for the trees to be plowed and for foundation to be laid out. And each day that she'd come home since then she'd noticed more and more progress. It was coming along quickly and smoothly. And what Bulma couldn't help but notice, as this building gained shape and form, was how oddly familiar that new house was starting to look...

Why, as she advanced on the house, she couldn't help but to stare at it suspiciously. It was dark out, and the headlights of her helicopter didn't allow her to see this new building in its entirety, but something about it surely was familiar...

...Regardless, Bulma landed her helicopter. And a moment later, with a click of a button, the 'copter was contained in a capsule, which was then safely dropped into her pocket. She gave one last look into the darkness, carefully considering her new neighbors' home, before turning and making her way into through the door of her own. Inside she almost immediately walked into Vegeta, who had been standing in the entry way.

Bulma, who's mind was still distracted by how suspicious the house next door felt, was taken by complete surprise when she felt herself smashing into a familiar form. His scent filled her nostrils, and she let out a whimper. She placed her hands against his chest to push herself back, jumping in a desperation to add distance between the two. Her back slammed against the door she'd just walked through, and she let out a hiss of irritation.

Vegeta, who had a history of withstanding blasts and explosions, didn't even flinch by the woman's actions. It merely felt like a minor slap when her palms had pressed into his pectoral muscles as she pushed herself away. The saiyan took a look at the Bluehead and he once again remembered the words she'd said to him during their fight. His temper soured, and he crossed his arms. "What are you doing, Woman." He growled. He wiped residual sweat from his forehead, having just finished with a workout in the spaceship.

"What am I doing? Have you forgotten who's house you're in, and who you're speaking to?!" Bulma turned her nose up, immediately forgetting about the adrenaline coursing through her veins after the fright she'd just encountered.

Vegeta shot her a glare in response, gulping back the dryness in his throat. "The sun set in the sky quite some time ago, and you're just now walking in. What are you doing out so late?"

"I had a few things I needed to take care of with someone." The Bluehead threw her shoulder-length hair behind her, shrugging casually. "What business is that of yours anyway?"

Her words dug into the pit of Vegeta's stomach more than he would have liked to admit. Aside from a few grunts, this was the first time he was addressing her with full sentences since their fight. Curiosity had gotten the better of him when he'd sensed her ki approach the house, and he was now regretting his decision to confront her. "Care to elaborate?" He growled, the image of that beta male materializing in his head. She'd spent enough time with that man while she was at work! If Vegeta learned that she'd stayed out so late in that man's presence as well...

"I told you, I was trying to take care of something!" Bulma's words snapped Vegeta out of his own sour thoughts. "What's with the interrogation as soon as I walk in, anyway?"

It was obvious that she was going to be willfully difficult, per usual. The saiyan turned, looking over his shoulder at the woman before him. He glared into her eyes, thinking in silence as he considered her response. 'No,' He thought. 'Not a hint of guilt in those blue orbs. There's no way she was with that beta male after all, I suppose.' The saiyan was sure to let out one last growl before turning his back to Bulma completely. "Next time you should consider coming home at a more reasonable hour. I have a feeling the boy was missing you."