Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the DBZ characters, or any of the bands, products or anything. Don't bother suing me, I have nothing of worth.

Once upon a time there was a handsome prince, noble and kind…. Bulma sat the book down, immediately disliking it. She glanced tiredly at the clock, aching eyes straining to see the time through the tears that hadn't run yet. She wouldn't let herself cry again, not with Vegeta in the room. However, the longer she sat in the living room next to the picture of the whole gang, the harder it was to keep the lump in her throat from rising. The picture that had been taken a year ago, the one with Yamcha's arms around her protectively, when he looked at her the way he now looked at other women. She sighed quietly; pretending the noise was from a stifled yawn, which wasn't hard to do, as tired as she was.

Vegeta was sprawled in the chair, flipping through the channels, stopping on the History Channel to casually peruse a study of General MacArthur's battle strategies. He tired of it quickly, however, and flipped to the news broadcast, an amused smile on his face as a reporter buzzed on about a ten-car pile-up. When the commercials came on, he turned off the power and stood, heading for the kitchen. With the room finally quiet, Bulma could finally drift to sleep.

She opened her eyes, realizing that she wasn't alone in the room. She stayed still, feigning sleep, but a chuckle informed her that the stranger knew better. A deep, silky voice cut the silence, causing her to jump.

"Now, now, little one, that trick won't work on me, you can't get away from the game that easily."

Now he had her full attention. "Game?"

Vegeta stepped out of the shadows into a light that seemed to come from nowhere, as the room didn't have any visible doors or windows, nor was there a light bulb or fluorescent tube anywhere. He smiled cruelly, causing her to shiver, even though the room didn't seem to have a temperature.

"Yes. All of life is a game, some aspects more pleasurable than others, and death is the only outcome. Whether it is a victory or a defeat is solely up to the player. And you, my dear, are today's contestant."

"So I'm to die?" Anger flashed in her eyes. His threats scared her as he had to power to follow through with them, and Bulma's best defense for her fright was anger. However his chuckle that followed her question disconcerted her.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. LIFE is the game, and not all games come to an end soon. As long as you play to win, but take your time, you'll live a long life."

"You should follow your own advice."

"I like to play quickly. I don't have the patience to take my time, but I do play to win." He thought for a moment, then added. "Maybe I was wrong. Life is more like a large tourney, containing many games. Not that it matters, though. Whether it is one game or many does not affect the outcome of this night. You are the only one who decides where this road leads."

"What of you."

"I am merely a figment of your imagination." He smiled after saying that, as if it were a great quote he would go down in history for saying, and then slipped back into the darkness. The room started to bend, and twist, the air contracting and she found herself thinking that it was hard to breathe. She found herself in another room, made of metals and silvers, buttons and keypads. There was an electric charge everywhere that got her adrenaline going, and she breathed the reek of technology like the most wonderful perfume in the world. A breath of air tickled the back of her neck and she turned around, finding him directly behind her, his face inches from hers. She stepped back and looked around her again.

"What is this place?" She asked walking over to an exposed circuit board, kneeling down to inspect it.

"This is nowhere. You made this up." She looked up at him for a moment, then stood, placing her hands on her hips.

"You expect me to buy that? Why did you bring me here?"

"You decide why." She was about to say something more, but he held up a hand, silencing her. "Just look around. Press buttons. There is nothing in here that can hurt you."

He was gone again, and she sighed and went back to inspecting the room. There were no openings to be found, and all the walls were solid. She decided to listen to Vegeta and pressed a button. A touch-screen monitor came down from the ceiling and a comfortable chair appeared. She sat and entered the "Run" command into the computer. A program came on and explained to her that all the buttons had the same purpose: bringing down and taking up the computer, and supplying the chair or taking it away. A main menu popped up and Bulma scanned the operations. There was Music, Furniture, Food, Beverages, and one more button that wasn't labeled. She pressed the Music button and waited for a moment while a play list came up. It contained all her favorite songs. She glanced at the lineup. "Chemicals between Us" by Bush, "Lightning Crashes" by Live, as well as a great many Metallica and Aerosmith songs. Godsmack, Creed, Lifehouse, there was even songs by the Christian band The Newsboys. She smiled and pressed "Select All." She went back and tried the Furniture menu. There were couches, beds, and tables. She chose a black leather couch, cherry-wood table and a cherry-wood framed bed with black silk sheets and a black quilt. For food she chose a small fridge packed with fruits and desserts. From the beverages she got a large ice chest filled to the brim with Pepsi and a small bottle of White Zinfandel. Pleased with how the place was looking with the exception of all the silver machinery on the walls, ceiling, and floor, she hacked deeper into the system hoping to find a way to change those. She found it and gave herself cherry-wood floorboards, black walls, and purple lighting. The placed look really awesome, and Bulma sent the computer and chair back and plopped down on the couch, enjoying the coolness of the leather settling through her clothes and on her skin. She was so into the music that she didn't even notice that Vegeta had returned until his spoke.

"Well done. I knew that you would make a suitable meeting place."

"What?" She sat up straighter, trying to make sense of his words.

"This shall be the site of our game, my dear, and quite a fitting one at that."

"Fitting for what?"

"What ever you want."

"I WANT to know what is going on." He chuckled and sat next to her, studying her intently. His brow relaxed from it's usual scowl as he bent down to kiss her gently, and without thinking, Bulma returned it. They pulled back slightly at the same time, to stare at each other for a moment. Bulma's heart beat wildly in her chest, thumping so loudly in her ears that she was sure Vegeta's Saiyajin hearing picked up its tumult. The purple lights above started to beat with the same time as her pulse and before she knew it, she was in his arms, melting against his feather-light touches. The music stopped suddenly, though, interrupted by voices she vaguely recognized. Everything started to disappear, and lighten up and Bulma called out for Vegeta. His voice came through hard and uncaring.

"What do you want woman?"

Bulma woke up with a start, stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes free of the Sandman's mark. So it was just a dream. But why could she still feel Vegeta's fingers on her skin, light, but still burning with intensity through her clothes? She looked up from where she was slumped down deep into the chair at the worried faces of her mother and father and the not-so-worried one of Vegeta. Her mother knelt down beside her, her perpetual smile broken from concern.

"Are you okay honey? We heard you moaning and came down to see if you were hurt."

"Oh, uh…it was probably just a bad dream. Don't worry mom." Actually it wasn't all that bad. In fact… Vegeta's gaze caught her eyes and she blushed furiously, remembering his lips on hers. She excused herself quickly and went to take a shower, pushing Vegeta from her thoughts. It was just a dream…