Chapter Eight

Dream . . . .

"How could you do this to me? How could you do this to me after all that I gave up for you?" he accused, his obsidian eyes full of hate and disgust.

"Vegeta, I-"

He put up his hand, not wanting to hear anything from her. Casting one last glance at her, his eyes filled with pain and betrayal, he turned his back on her and walked away.

"Vegeta!"

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Bulma woke with a start, still in the white room. Her face was unusually dry—probably because she wasn't in her body; if she'd been in her body she would have been sweating profusely. Shakna was looking at her curiously. She smiled weakly and got up from the floor. She didn't know how Shakna could keep her sanity after being here for 52 years. She was most definitely strong. "Well, duh, Bulma, she's Saiyan."

Bulma had lost all concept of time in the white room. She didn't know how long she'd been there. It felt like years already, but she sure it wasn't. She was slowly going crazy being stuck in between with only one person who reminded her so much of Vegeta. Of all the people she had to get stuck in limbo with, she had to be stuck with a Saiyan. Shakna, well, she wasn't as bad as Vegeta; in fact, she was almost the exact opposite of Vegeta. Shakna never argued with her, letting her always be right—which was unnerving. But she had the same dark looks as Vegeta, and Bulma could see through Shakna's eyes that if she had not been mated to Vegeta, life would definitely be different in limbo.

Bulma sighed and sat down again.

"Have you started to hear the voices yet?" Shakna asked her.

"What?" Bulma said, her face showing her total confusion.

"Others that have been stuck here starting hearing voices. Something about people talking to their body," Shakna replied.

"Talking to their body?" Bulma said more to herself than to Shakna. That's when it hit her: she was in a coma. Why didn't she figure that out earlier? "Because you were too busy beating yourself up over deserting Vegeta," she thought grimly. "No, no voices yet," she said to Shakna.

"Wow, they either haven't found you, or no one is able to see your body. What did you do?" Shakna asked, her tail flicking back and forth in curiosity.

"You don't want to know," Bulma said, not wanting to get into it.

Shakna nodded, understanding she wouldn't get much more than that.

Bulma got up from the floor again and started to pace. She felt useless now. It had been bad being alive, but now she wasn't quite dead yet and all she had was a white room and a Saiyan for company. Not to mention she had her guilt for leaving Vegeta after all that he'd done for her. "He never even said a word to me about it. How the hell was I suppose to know? I'm not some sort of mind reader," she thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Shakna. "What is he like?"

Bulma looked up at her, startled. "Vegeta?"

Shakna nodded, cringing a little at that lack of title.

"Such loyalty," Bulma thought. She sat down across from Shakna. "Would you like to know before he met me, or after?"

"All."

Bulma sighed. "Vegeta was a ruthless killer. He destroyed countless worlds under Frieza's control."

Bulma saw a small smile appear on Shakna's face. Bulma shook her head: only a Saiyan would smile at that.

"He was killed by Frieza on Namek, but brought back to life by the dragonballs."

"Dragonballs?" Shakna asked.

"They're magical balls that can grant you wishes."

Shakna looked at her skeptically, but said nothing.

"He was sent to earth along with the Nameks—Frieza and Vegeta killed most of them, Frieza more than Vegeta though—and other people. From there he came to live with me because he had no where else to go. He helped us defeat the androids, Cell, and Buu. Buu possessed him—took over his body—and so he self-destructed to save the world. We wished him back with the earth dragonballs. Now he just works out and picks fights with Goku because there's no much to do anymore. We have a son, Trunks, and a daughter, Bra."

Shakna looked at her, her eyes saying that there was a lot more that had happened and that Bulma just wasn't telling her. But she remained silent.

"Did I answer your question?" Bulma asked her.

"Yes," Shakna replied.

Bulma smirked. "Yeah, right. You're not convincing me."

Shakna looked like she was torn between asking more and remaining silent. Saiyan's. She seemed to think it was safe to ask more because she asked, "What is he like, um, as a person?"

Bulma sighed. "What is he like?" she thought.

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Before . . . .

A loud boom resounded across Satan City. Bulma was jolted out of her concentration as the shockwaves hit her lab, knocking down what wasn't bolted to the floor, mainly the project she was just working on. "Damn it, Vegeta!" she screamed as she looked at the remains of her project on the floor, in pieces. She stomped out of the lab, ready to kill the obnoxious Saiyan.

What she found threw all her thoughts of killing him right out the window: the gravity machine was a mess of twisted metal and wires, and Vegeta was no where to be found. "Vegeta!" she cried and ran to the rubble.

She heard a groan and then saw Vegeta picking his way out from the bottom of the mess. "Oh, Kami, Vegeta!" She ran to him and grabbed his hand, helping him out.

"Woman, go away. I don't need your help," he snarled at her, and then fell forward, almost on top of her.

She yelped as she felt his weight fall on her and then started to slip. She quickly wrapped her arms around him and started to drag him as best as she could away from the wreckage. Damn he was heavy. The last time she had Yamcha help her, but Yamcha wasn't around anymore, especially now that she and he had broken. Every two inches she had to stop and take a break because he was so heavy. "For a small man, Vegeta, you weigh a ton," she muttered.

She dragged him into the living room and laid him across the couch. "No way in hell I'm dragging you up those stairs to our room, you baka," she said. Our room? When did it become our room? Technically, it was his room and she just slept there with him. And sleep was all they did. Not that she wouldn't mind to do more . . . .

"Bulma, get a hold of yourself," she said as she walked to the kitchen to retrieve some bandages.

Vegeta. He was so damned irritating and knew just the right buttons to push her over the edge. But then again, he knew just when to stop before he hurt her, and when he held her at night it made up for everything that he'd said to upset her that day. The gleam in his eyes when he argued with her excited her to no end, and his smirk was so . . . sexy. She would wake up on some nights while Vegeta was sleeping, listening to him breath. Once he had even been purring. Of course, she never mentioned the purring episode to him because he'd look at her like she was some kind of freak and deny it.

She walked back to the living room. Vegeta was still out cold. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. All the hard lines on his face were softened, and his smirk was replaced by a soft . . . smile? No, not quite; it was somewhere between a smile and a frown, a neutral smile. She silently began to wrap his wounds, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin. He whimpered a bit as she wrapped the gash across his chest, but he didn't wake.

After she finished, she stood back a bit and surveyed her work. She frowned. When Vegeta woke he'd just take them off and go back to train in another gravity machine. She'd learned to make several gravity machines and leave them capsuled just in case he blew one up, which he'd done twice already. He was always pushing himself too much.

Vegeta began to stir on the couch. He opened his eyes and looked at her. He didn't say a word, just got up and walked to the kitchen. "Woman, I'm hungry," he said.

That was him, no thank you. She followed him into the kitchen. "You can make your own dinner, Vegeta. I'm going back to the lab to finish the project that I was working on before I was so rudely interrupted," she said, her tone biting.

Vegeta grabbed her wrist and spun her around. His gaze was piercing. She felt tears start to fill her eyes. Why the hell did he have to be so damned inconsiderate? Why'd he always have to be a jerk? The tears started to flow down her cheeks, leaving a slivery trail down her face. She flew from the room, up the stairs and into his room. She flung herself onto the bed and grabbed a pillow to muffle her cries.

Why was she crying? He didn't give a damn about her, so why should she give a damn about him? "Because you love him," her mind told her. She cried harder at the thought because he would never love her in any way, form, or fashion. He was too damned caught up in himself and killing Goku.

She heard the door open and close, and the shuffling of feet to the bed. Vegeta climbed in next to her and lay down. She turned her body away from him and wrapped her arms tightly around the pillow, her cries quieting. They remained silent for what seemed like eternity to her.

"Woman, why are you crying?" he asked her, breaking the silence.

"Because you're such a bastard," she said hotly.

"I told you you wouldn't be able to teach me how not to be a bastard," he said, his tone laughing.

Bulma remembered back to when she'd said that. He'd said he'd like to see her try. Damn. She felt herself smile against her will. She flung her pillow at him, smacking him in the face. He grabbed the pillow and placed it underneath his head then he pulled her body against him, locking her in his embrace. She turned to him, draping her arm across his chest and entangling their legs. She looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping yet. She sighed and laid her head on his chest.

"Bastard," she said before she fell asleep.

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Now . . . .

Shakna cleared her throat.

Bulma looked at her, startled. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. She forgot Shakna was even there. "Um, where was I?" she said, smoothing out her already smoothed closed.

"How is my Prince like in person," Shakna stated.

"Oh, well, Vegeta is a bastard who knows just the right buttons to push to get you angry at him. He loves to pick fights, both physical and verbal. But, he knows how to make you forget everything you just fought about, making you love him even more for it," she said, the last part more for herself.

Shakna looked at her, her eyes softening. "You love him."

"More than anything in this world," Bulma said with a sigh.

Shakna grunted and crossed her arms. She seemed satisfied with the answer now.

Bulma looked back at her and blushed a little. Not even Chichi had asked her how Vegeta was in person, and here was this woman—a Saiyan woman—who had asked her that question like it was the most natural thing in the world to ask.

Vegeta. "I'm so sorry, Vegeta," she whispered.