Disclaimer: As though not owning DragonBall Z wasn't bad enough, I can't have the rights to Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. *scowls and stomps off*

A/N: I heard this song and loved it instantly, then realized that I could make a Bulma/Yamcha out of it. So I did. *shrug* Not much else to say...

Picture

Though the girl beside him was in a deep sleep, Yamcha was wide awake. It had been a pleasurable night, he wouldn't deny it. He had made love to the brunette four, maybe five times before she had fallen asleep, but it didn't seem to satisfy the ache he was feeling. None of the girls had been able to soothe the gnawing ache.

Yamcha raised his head to look at the clock that sat on the nearby table and sighed as he saw that it read five thirty-seven. He sat up slowly so as not to wake the woman, but the brunette didn't stir. He dressed quickly and left the room without a word.

He walked slowly down the hotel hall. How many times had he been here in the past week? Too many, he realized, each time with a different woman. Each one being used once, then thrown away. He banged his head against the wall as he waited for the elevator. He was exhausted and he was feeling the consequences of the alcohol the previous night.

I'm livin' my life in a slow hell

Different girl every night at the hotel

I ain't seen the sunshine in three damn days

He'd been drinking too much, lately, too. Now he knew how people became addicted. It seemed to be the only way to escape the pain. He rubbed his temple, noticing the dark circles under his eyes in the shiny elevator door. He shook his head as the elevator door opened with a ding. He shuffled sluggishly inside and hit the button to go to the main floor.

He knew why Bulma had broken up with him. He wasn't that stupid. Between his many women and his booze, it amazed him she hadn't ended it sooner. But all the same, he was heartbroken, for he had loved the blue-haired woman, despite her bossy and conceited attitude. Why hadn't he realized it?

He shook his head. He needed to get over her. He had even put the picture of her away in a drawer, unable to bear looking at her smiling face any longer. He also spent as little time as possible in his small apartment, the apartment Bulma had helped pay for when he was deep in debts and practically broke.

Been fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey

Wish I had a good girl to miss me

Though I wonder if I'll ever change my ways

Yamcha smiled slightly at the irony of the situation. Bulma had dumped him because of his many women, yet instead of trying to mend his ways to get her back, he was dragging a different woman up to the hotel every night. What good does that do? he asked himself, but there was no answer.

He made his way to the front desk to pay the bill. The clerk smiled at him sympathetically and took the Visa card Yamcha held out to him.

'Yorisho Yamcha?' the clerk clarified as he ran it through. 'There was a phone call for you last night. It was late, so I didn't want to wake you. It was from a Bulma Briefs, I believe.'

Yamcha, who had been tiredly playing with a business card he'd found, looked up at the name. 'Are you sure that's who it was? You're positive you didn't mishear?'

The clerk smiled again. 'There's no way I could've. She told me her name three times to make sure I didn't get it wrong.'

What little colour Yamcha's face had left after his exhausting night drained away.

I put your picture away

Sat down and cried today

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to her

I put your picture away

Sat down and cried today

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to her

Bulma Briefs stood on the small balcony outside her luxurious bedroom despite the fact that the biting wind was blowing viciously, sending flakes of snow into her face. She had slept very little the previous night and after waking up the last time she had gotten up. The clock had read five thirty-seven. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep.

She had called Yamcha the night before. It had been late but she hadn't cared. She'd been trying to contact him for two days but he hadn't answered his phone and hadn't returned her calls. She cringed and closed her eyes, remembering.

'I don't know why he's not calling me!' Bulma said angrily. 'He can't hate me that much.'

She and ChiChi were sitting around Bulma's kitchen table. It was late but ChiChi had said that Goku and Gohan were out training and that she wouldn't be surprised if they didn't return at all that night. She wasn't concerned about staying late at Bulma's.

'He's been spending his nights at the Kozoku Hotel,' ChiChi blurted, then glanced up in shock at Bulma.

Bulma's face lit up with hope. 'Really?' She rushed out of the kitchen and returned a few moment later with a phone book in her hand. 'Are you sure, Chi?'

ChiChi looked uncomfortable. Yes, she was sure. She'd seen him go there twice in three days with two different women. Who knew how many other times he'd been there with how many other women? But she said, 'No, I'm not sure. This is only what I heard. But you may as well give it a shot,' she added hastily as Bulma's beautiful face fell slightly.

'I suppose you're right. Here it is.' Bulma pointed to a number in the book and grabbed the telephone off her kitchen wall. She dialed the number and grinned hopefully at ChiChi. She was confused by the halfhearted smile ChiChi had returned with.

At a man's greeting, Bulma spoke. 'Hi, I was wondering if a Yoshiro Yamcha was spending the night at the hotel?'

'Let me check,' the lobbyist said and Bulma could hear him typing through the phone. Then, 'Yes, he is. Do you have a message for him?'

'I'd like to speak with him. Could you put me through?'

'I'm sorry,' the man said, 'but it is late, and he didn't inform us that he was expecting a phone call. I'm sure he's sleeping. I can take a message though, unless it's urgent.'

Bulma frowned, then sighed. 'No, it's not urgent. Tell him Bulma Briefs called. That's Bulma Briefs. B-R-I-E-F-S. Bulma Briefs.'

'Is that all?'

'Yes.'

It hadn't occurred to Bulma then why Yamcha might be spending the night at the hotel, hadn't even occurred to her to wonder why, but she was sure she knew now. He was probably in bed with another woman. It would explain the forced smile ChiChi had given her.

I called you last night in the hotel

Everyone knows but they won't tell

But their halfhearted smiles tell me somethin' just ain't right

That night found Bulma in the kitchen, a wine bottle to her lips. Yamcha hadn't called her back. She was beginning to doubt that he would. But she didn't care now. She took another swig of the wine, draining the bottle, then tossing it away with the other one.

'What are you doing?'

Bulma looked up to see Vegeta standing in the door way. She smiled drunkenly, her speech slurred. 'Hi, Vegeta. I'm wine drinking. Would ya like some?'

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the blue-haired woman. 'No, I would not like some.'

Bulma shrugged. 'Mores for me, then.' She got up, opened the fridge, and took out another bottle.

'You're drunk,' Vegeta said simply, frowning at her.

'Naw,' Bulma drawled as she gulped down the alcoholic beverage.

'Yes, you are.'

Bulma frowned at Vegeta for a moment, then smirked and sidled closer. 'I never realized before how sexy you were....' she said. She pressed her chest boldly against his and grinned playfully. 'You could treat a woman right, Bulma bets.'

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her. She was insane, he decided, but there was no reason not to take advantage of it.

I've been waitin' on you for a long time

Fuelin' up on heartaches and cheap wine

I ain't heard from you in three damn nights

When Bulma woke late the following morning she instantly felt sick. She realized she was hungover though could only vaguely remember getting that way. She turned her head and her eyes widened. Vegeta was sleeping beside her. She looked wildly about the room and found that she wasn't even in her own, but the prince's.

It came back in a rush. Sitting at the table getting drunk and easing away the pain of Yamcha having not called, Vegeta walking in, Vegeta bringing her to ecstasy she'd never before known. She glared at Vegeta furiously and pulled her hand back to slap him. He'd known she was drunk, she was sure, but he'd gone and taken her anyway.

Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth as bile rose to her throat. Then she turned and bolted to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet. It passed sooner than she had expected, but her head was throbbing painfully.

She walked out of the bathroom and into her own room. Her eyes instantly fell on the photo of Yamcha. She winced as though she had suffered a blow, and she picked it up off her dresser and made her way to her closet. Standing on her tip-toes, she put it on the highest shelf. She couldn't look at it anymore. She felt too ashamed to, especially after who she'd spent the previous night with.

I put your picture away

I wonder where you've been

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

I put your picture away

I wonder where you've been

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

Bulma walked down the street window shopping on her way to the local church. She had taken advantage of the warm summer day. Her purse was slung over her shoulder, her wallet inside containing both cash and numerous credit cards. She was itching to spend her money. She paused in front of a jewelry store and looked through the window.

'Bulma! Hey, Bulma!'

She pulled her eyes away from the diamond ring she'd been examining on display and saw Krillin walking towards her, waving.

'Krillin! Hi!' she greeted, smiling warmly at her short, bald friend. 'Long time no see!'

'Too long,' Krillin agreed. 'Yamcha and I just finished up at the gym. We were going to go to the bar. Do you want to come?.' Krillin pointed over his shoulder with a thumb to the taller, scarred man hanging back behind him.

I saw you yesterday with an old friend

It was the same old same 'How have you been?'

Since you've been gone my world's been dark and gray

Bulma lifted her gaze and looked into the eyes of her ex-boyfriend. For a split second, she wanted nothing more than to run up and give him a hug... but they were long since over. She smiled at him instead, though Yamcha noted it didn't reach her eyes like the smile she had given Krillin had. 'Yamcha. How have you been?'

'Not bad. Yourself?'

'All right.'

Krillin didn't notice the tense atmosphere between his two friends. 'Do you want to come to the bar with us, Bulma?' he asked again.

Bulma looked down again. 'What? Oh, no. I have to be somewhere,' she said. 'Maybe another time.'

Krillin nodded. "Okay, then. Come by sometime, all right? I don't see you anymore.'

The blue-haired woman laughed and nodded in return. 'Just tell me when you're not busy and I'll see what I can do.'

As Yamcha passed by her, he nodded his farewell. 'I'll be seeing you.'

The laugh died from Bulma's eyes instantly. 'Yeah. See you.'

You reminded me of brighter days

I hoped you were comin' home to stay

I was headed to church

I was off to drink you away

Bulma sat with a thoughtful expression , thinking. It had been the first time she'd seen Yamcha in months but although she'd been glad to speak with him again, she couldn't help but remember his cheating ways.

She sighed. She supposed she hadn't exactly been the best girlfriend, either. She was spoiled and rich, and she flaunted it. She knew Yamcha had always been tight on money, but that hadn't stopped her from bragging about her new car or her new wardrobe. Hell, she thought, I even helped buy his apartment! He must have been so hurt behind the gratefulness.

Her thoughts then turned to all the happy times they'd had. There had been too many to count. From the moment she'd seen him she'd liked him and they'd been dating on and off ever since. And she still loved him. She did.

Her blue eyes, now downcast like the sky outside that was threatening to pour, lowered and looked almost shamefully at the ground.

.

Though the movie he had rented was on the television only a few feet away, Yamcha wasn't interested in watching it. Indeed he wasn't watching it at all, though his eyes were looking in that direction. He had tuned it out completely, Bulma being the only thing on his mind.

He'd been overjoyed when Krillin had spotted her on the street and rushed over, but hesitant to strike up a conversation. She probably hated him anyway. His heart had fluttered when she'd greeted him, but it'd been more of a courteous greeting than an excited one -- like the one Krillin had received. But all the same he had seen the flicker of joy and passion in her eyes when she'd first seen him. Was it possible she still cared for him? Even after all he'd done?

Yes, it is possible, Yamcha told himself firmly, clinging to the thread of hope. I still love her after all she did. But then, he had to remind himself, she wasn't constantly running off with other men.

I thought about you for a long time

Can't seem to get you off my mind

I can't understand why we're livin' life this way

Bulma stood on tip-toe as she reached to the highest shelf in her closet. Her hand found the picture immediately, that being the last thing she'd put up there, and she pulled it down. It was covered in dust and she wiped it off with a damp cloth from her bathroom before simply sitting on her bed and gazing at it.

I love you so much, Yamcha, she thought, and her heart ached with the need to be forgiven. She needed him more than anything. She longed for him more than she had ever longed for anything.

A tear slid down her cheek and dappled the glass of the picture frame.

I found your picture today

I swear I'll change my ways

I just called to say,

'I want you to come back home.'

Yamcha had almost been drawn to the desk he rarely used; almost drawn to open the bottom drawer and fish out the photo of Bulma. He found it under some paper and a bottle of glue, frowning as he saw some of the glue had leaked and gotten on the glass of the frame, disrupting the picture.

He picked the glue off as he made his way to his bed across the room. As he saw Bulma's beautiful face smile up at him, he had to smile too. It was contagious. But while Bulma's captured smile remained, his faded quickly. He loved her. He needed to be with her.

He needed her to love him in return.

I found your picture today

I swear I'll change my ways

I just called to say,

'I want you to come back home.'

Yamcha's phone rang and he reached over to his side table to pick it up without looking. 'Hello?'

'Yamcha?' There was a short hesitation. 'This is Bulma.'

Yamcha looked up from the picture to the doorway, as though expecting her to be there. She wasn't, of course, but he continued staring at the wall. 'Bulma?'

'I... I have something I need to say, Yamcha. I'm really, really sorry for the way I acted when we were dating. I was bossy, braggy on conceited, and I'm sorry. I'm willing to mend my ways if you're willing to let me.

'But at the same time, I don't appreciate being cheated on. It really hurt me, Yamcha. More than anything you can imagine. I felt as though I wasn't good enough for you. It... hurt,' she finished lamely, unable to find a word descriptive enough for the pain she had felt.

Yamcha smiled into the phone. 'You're right -- you were bossy and conceited. But I'm willing to give you a chance if you're willing to give one to me. I'm really sorry, too. More than you know. These past few months were lonely without you. I did so much training to try and forget everything. Not to mention drinking.'

Bulma cringed as she remember the last time she'd gone on a drinking spree. She'd ended up in Vegeta's bed. She shook her head; she'd tell Yamcha about that incident later. 'They were terrible,' she agreed. 'I spent almost every waking moment in the lab.'

Yamcha chuckled. 'Don't you spend most of your time there anyway?'

Bulma, too, laughed. 'I don't think you understand just how much time I spent in there. My father was getting worried, and you know how he works.'

'Yeah, I do,' Yamcha grinned.

Bulma became serious. 'I think we should start anew, then. As friends, and see where this new relationship takes us. Okay?'

Yamcha nodded. It was a good idea. 'That sounds best.'

'But Yamcha? Even though we're only friends right now, I want you to know that I love you.'

Yamcha felt his heart swell. 'I love you too, Bulma. I always have.'

I just called to say,

'I love you, come back home.'