Disclaimer - I don't own DBZ.

A/N- There may be a little OOCness, but I try not to. Hope you enjoy.

The Urako Incident

Vegeta was amused that his woman could be such a tigress. He doubted she would've really hurt her beloved cousin Neliyah though. They went too far back for that. She probably would've come to her senses before she actually strangled her. The whole episode just reinforced his suspicion that Bulma could be taught to fly and many other aspects of martial arts if the notion ever got in to her head. For his own sake he hoped it never did. Humans seemed to latch on to people and ideas, or even inanimate objects. She'd be able to sense exactly where he was at any time and then fly over and find him. He shuddered. He'd have to make sure that idea never entered Bulma's head.

He'd reached the door to his room when a voice behind him piped up. He sensed it was Bulma's annoying cousin, Neliyah.

"Is she still mad at me, Vegeta?"

He turned around and gazed down at her, bemused. "How should I know? I'm no mind reader."

"Oh come on Vegeta, this is serious!"

"How many squabbles have you two had over the years?" Vegeta remarked.

"Umm . . ."

"She'll get over it." Vegeta stated.

"I guess I'll talk to her later, when she's cooled down then. Listen, you're good for her, Vegeta. Stick with it and thanks." Neliyah said, giving his arm a pat. She walked away towards the patio, where Vegeta could hear a good part of Bulma's crazy family talking.

"Hey man, that eating contest was really cool!" one of the water gun twins said as they ran in from the patio, stopping in front of Vegeta.

"Yeah! We rooted for you the whole time. That other guy was pretty cool too." the other twin piped up.

"You're the twins who sprayed Bulma a little while ago." Vegeta said. "I'd stay out of her way if I was you."

"Thanks for the warning, mister. Hey, do you know where Gohan lives? We made friends with him yesterday?."

"Bulma knows." Vegeta smirked, walking into his room and closing the door. Being him, he could hear the twins gulp. As he changed his damp clothes, replacing them with the human clothes Bulma had bought him, he ran through his mental list of places to train. An island was usually okay, but NWC, the Nihon Weather Channel, had said a hurricane was due in a couple hours, so he scratched that out. A lonely spot in the wilderness would have to do, as long as it was far away from Kakarott. He wasn't really hungry since he'd had such a big breakfast, plus the dumb contest the day before. Still, time with Bulma away from her relatives would be okay. Showing off his woman to the weak human males would be an enjoyable experience. Vegeta finished changing, grabbed his wallet - a necessity if you wanted to get anything done on this planet - and headed for the front hallway.

"Why you're that nice young man from the eating contest," a grand motherly lady sitting on a couch said as Vegeta was passing through the living room.

He stopped walking and nodded curtly. Bulma had impressed upon him the fact that things wouldn't go very well for him in the future if he wasn't at least civil to her elderly relatives.

"Well you certainly are a looker! I take it you're off to take Bulma out to breakfast. I heard you were. Well I'll let you get on your way. Nice meeting you." the woman called as Vegeta continued on.

He raised a hand to acknowledge the farewell. 'These earth women sure are more saiyan-like than the men.' Vegeta thought as he passed a couple. The woman was scolding her husband, who gave Vegeta a look of resigned suffering. 'I can commiserate with him.' Vegeta thought, finally reaching the front door. He was surprised to see Bulma already there waiting, a purse that matched her outfit slung over her shoulder. Thankfully, there was no one else in the vicinity.

"Hi, Vegeta! Ready to get out of here?" she asked as he reached her. Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. Bulma sighed and rolled her eyes. "They better not have ordered pizza." she threatened as she opened the door.

A delivery man dressed in coveralls was standing on the front step. "Hello ma'am. Is there a Vegeta Saiyan here?" he asked, consulting his clipboard.

Bulma was surprised. 'What could a delivery man want with Vegeta?' she wondered.

"Right here." Vegeta said, stepping in front of Bulma and on to the front porch step.

"Yes of course. Hello, sir. I've got a letter here and here's the keys to the car you won. It's right out front. Congratulations, sir. Please sign here." He held the clipboard out to Vegeta and handed him a pen. "Just there, sir." he said, pointing to the spot again.

Vegeta signed and then handed the clipboard and pen back to the man.

"Arigato, sir." the man said. "Nice meeting you, ma'am. Your husbands a talented guy." he jogged away, climbed in to his delivery van, and drove off.

Bulma stood inside the door, staring at Vegeta in shock.

He turned to her and smirked. "What do you say I take you out to breakfast?" He took her arm and led her through the doorway to the porch steps. Reaching behind her, he shut the door and, taking her elbow, led her down the front steps.

"Where did you get that car from?" Bulma asked, pointing at the shiny new black Corvette Stingray.

"Not important. Come on." Vegeta dismissed her question.

Bulma gave him and incredulous look. "Oh yes it is! Tell me how you got that car!"

"I won it in a daredevil contest a couple weeks ago."

"So you won that car in a contest?! I didn't even know you had a driver's license! I don't suppose you've entered anymore contests and won other prizes. Have you?" Bulma asked, hands on her hips.

"Let's just say I now have credit cards and a large bank account." Vegeta smirked. "It's so easy to make money on this planet."

"What else have you been up to behind my back?" Bulma asked, walking over to the car and circling it appreciatively.

"I spend most of my time training, but I did het my driver's license a month or so ago. Don't tell Kakarott. Let's go." Vegeta said, opening the driver's door and sitting down. "Where's the restaurant you had in mind?" he asked, shutting the door.

"Over on 18th street." Bulma answered, skipping the opening the door part and hopping over the side into the passenger's seat. She set her purse in her lap and drew on her seatbelt. "Say, what kind of driver are you?"

"I passed the test, didn't I?" Vegeta said defensively.

"Come on Vegeta, tell me!"

"I'm a good driver as long as no one gets in my way. Is that good enough for you, woman?" he asked sarcastically, slipping the key in the ignition and starting the car. "Besides, you've got a lot of nerve considering your driving." he added as he put the car in to hear and drove towards the heart of the city.

"What about my driving?" Bulma asked huffily, crossing her arms.

"It sucks. It's the whole reason I entered a contest with a car as a prize."

"My driving is not that bad, Vegeta!" Bulma said angrily.

" I didn't say it was bad, I just said it sucks." Vegeta corrected, breaking for a red light.

"Why do you always have to ruin everything? We were getting along fine ten minutes ago." Bulma fumed, turning her head to look at the scenery.

"How is commenting on your driving ruining everything?" Vegeta asked, bemused.

"You know what I mean, Vegeta!" Bulma replied a bit sulkily.

"In case you never noticed, you're the only one who gets angry." Vegeta pointed out as the light turned green. "I think I manage to keep my temper in check very well, arigato. You're the one who makes buildings fall down when you lose it!"

"So you're acknowledging my superiority."

"No. Just your pig-headedness." Bulma muttered.

"What do I have to say to get you to shut up and enjoy yourself?"

"I shouldn't have to tell you that."

"What's the place called, then?"

"What place? Don't change the subject!"

"The place we're eating at. Have you forgotten where we're going, angry woman?"

"The Iris Café. That's it up ahead." Bulma pointed. "Sorry, Vegeta. I guess I . . . Hey what am I apologizing for?! Ugh! Let's just forget the whole thing." Bulma said, unstrapping her seatbelt as Vegeta parallel parked in to the space.

"Okay. I admit your parallel parking skills may be a tad more polished then mine." Bulma allowed, opening the door and stepping out of the car. "It's only 'cause I hate to drive. Why should I apply my time to getting better at it?" she asked, putting enough coins in the parking meter for two hours.

"Whatever you say." Vegeta said, shutting his door and walking around to the sidewalk where Bulma stood.

They walked into the café in silence. It had a quiet, pleasant atmosphere, a drastic change from the bustle of the city outside. It was about half full. Some of the customers sat surfing the net on computer's situated strategically around the room. A few couples sat talking over cappuccino, though most people were alone. They read books or newspapers, taking occasional sips of their chosen beverage.

A waiter soon glided over to seat them, dressed in an immaculate tuxedo.

"Hello, Miss Brief. Hello, sir. Will it be the usual table in the corner, then?" he asked politely.

"Yes, thank you." Bulma agreed. The two followed the waiter back through the tables and to a secluded table in the back. Once they were seated, the waiter excused himself and went to get their menus.

"You've got class, Bulma." Vegeta said grudgingly, looking around the room. His eyes finally came back to rest on her. "How long have you been coming here?"

"Ten years, give or take. It calms me down."

"You're bluffing."

"Yeah . . . I came here a couple weeks ago with the company lawyer. We left a big tip and I've been back a couple times since." Bulma admitted as the waiter gave them their menus and left again. She didn't know why she liked messing with Vegeta, they hadn't even been at ease with each other for that long. Things had a way of happening fast around Vegeta. That was just fine with her. She liked life in the fast lane, though there was a little too much mortal danger around the Z gang. Still, they were her friends, the best she'd ever had, and she'd vowed long ago to stick by then through thick or thin.

Even Yamcha. She hadn't really talked him since she'd told him to get out of her life. Come to think of it, it was about time she talked to him and made up anyhow, in case he did die against the androids. Yamcha was much weaker than Goku and Vegeta, or even Krillin and Tien, after all. Still, they could always wish him back. What was she thinking worrying about whether Yamcha died or not though? That was two whole years in the future. A lot could change by then. Bulma supposed it was even possible Yamcha could crack down and surpass Krillin, but that would take a bigger miracle than ever Goku could dish out.

Bulma risked a quick glance at Vegeta, who was studying the menu with a bored expression on his face. He'd learned to read food words quickly. 'Gosh, it's really weird to see Vegeta sitting in a café calmly studying the menu. This is too weird. I wonder what he thinks of how fast things are going between us? What would Goku say?' Bulma smiled to herself and scanned the menu once again. 'He'd probably just stare at me at first, all dumb looking, and then maybe put his arm behind his head and laugh all cautiously. Then he'd put his finger under his nose in that weird little habit of his and make some remark to Vegeta. And of course Vegeta would get angry, because if Goku says anything in his presence, he gets angry. Who am I kidding? If he even sees Goku, he gets all mad because he can't beat him. So Vegeta would maybe make some cruel remark and call Goku a name, Kami, saiyans are immature! And if Goku didn't defend himself, he'd get even more mad and power up. So then Goku would be like - Let's take this away from all the innocent people - even though probably most of them aren't that innocent. Then Goku'd say - I don't want to fight you, Vegeta - and Vegeta would power up some more and not stop until Goku agrees to fight him. And the whole time Chi Chi and me would be standing there speechless and finally I'd interject and ask Vegeta what in the HFIL he wanted to fight Goku for, but it would be too late because by then it'd involve his honor. So they'd fly off to fight and then Goku would come back a while later carrying Vegeta, who'd be passed out and he'd help load him into my van and I'd take him back to CC and be stuck with a grumpy sick saiyan for a few days. Then the whole cycle would repeat itself, because Vegeta would want revenge.'

"Hurry up and order. It's the waiter." Vegeta's voice broke in, sounding annoyed.

Bulma snapped out of her daydream with a jerk. "Oh, sorry."

"No need to apologize, miss," the waiter said kindly, obviously not liking Vegeta's curt tone.

"The cheese omelet, a couple biscuits, jam, honey, and a glass of chocolate milk, please." Bulma said, deciding to say the heck with her diet for once and pig out.

"Very good. Will that be all?"

"Add a slice of apple pie a la mode to my order." Vegeta put in.

"Done. Your food will be served in a few minutes, " the waiter announced demurely, gliding away with their menus.

"Why do you always take so much time to decide on everything?" Vegeta asked, still annoyed.

Bulma shrugged, ignored him, and looked around the café for interesting people.

'Why is she so frustrating?' Vegeta wondered. 'She just sits there and stares off into space. One second you think she wants you around, so you give in and let yourself be dragged into whatever dumb idea she's got, the next, she pretends you're not there. But if I tried to leave she'd be all offended and angry.' Vegeta studied Bulma as she absent mindedly traced the pattern on the tablecloth with her index finger. 'I wish I knew what it is in her that draws me to her. And if she'd so angry with me all the time, why does she even bother associating with me? She didn't used to want to. She says she loves me. But she loves her parents and she loves her cousins. She loves Kakarott and his dysfunctional family too. What's different about me? What's the same about me as them? I don't have anyone. . . Except her, I guess. Earthlings are so primitive and strange. Finally! The waiter with my food!

*****************************

"Mmmmm. That was the best breakfast I've had in a long time." Bulma said as the waiter disappeared into the kitchen with their empty plates.

"Ok." Vegeta commented, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Just okay?" Bulma asked with a smile tracing her lips. She raised an eyebrow in question.

Before Vegeta could reply, there was a commotion up front and Puar came sailing above the waiter's heads. She glanced around frantically. Spotting Bulma and Vegeta, she flew over to them and hovered in front of their table.

"Bulma! Vegeta! You've got to go help Yamcha!" she squeaked frantically in her high voice.

"So sorry, sir. Sorry madam. We'll have this creature removed at once." one of the waiters said, finally catching Puar.

"No! It's okay. I know her!" Bulma protested.

"Are you sure?" the waiter asked, looking quite taken aback.

"You heard her," Puar squeaked angrily as the waiter's grip loosened.

"Yes. I'm sure." Bulma confirmed.

The waiter waked away, looking puzzled.

"What's wrong, Puar?" Bulma asked.

"It's Yamcha! An awful man came and took him away! He didn't want to go!" Puar wept, once again hovering in the air over their table.

"Are you sure? Yamcha's pretty strong. I'm sure he can handle it, Puar." Bulma reassured.

"No. This man was way stronger than Yamcha. Yamcha tried to fight him and he lost. The man let me get away after he'd knocked Yamcha out. He said you're the only one that can help Yamcha, Bulma."

Bulma blanched. "Just how strong was this guy, Puar?"

"About as strong as Vegeta! But he's got a saiyan. He looked like an ordinary human."

Vegeta had been watching Puar in a state of boredom, but his ears picked up the words 'as strong as Vegeta' with surprising clarity. If he could just find the guy, he could maybe get a real challenge! Assuming that the flying cat thing could accurately estimate power levels.

"As strong as Vegeta!?! And I'm the only one that can help him? Did Yamcha put you up to this, Puar?" Bulma asked suspiciously. "I'm not going back out with him."

Puar shook her head 'no' violently. "You've got to help me get him back, Bulma. Come to his apartment with me right now. Maybe you can find some evidence."

Bulma still looked skeptic. "All right, Puar. Come on, Vegeta. I'll need your help if the guy comes back." Bulma said decisively, standing up from the table.

"No. I have to train. If there really was a human out there as strong as me, I'd be able to sense him. The only people I sense are your little gang and weaklings. I'll pay for breakfast and then I'm outta here." Vegeta said scornfully, rising and going to the counter with the check.

Bulma grumbled as she left a tip for the waiter (Vegeta did not believe in tipping.) and stalked out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. Puar silently followed. In a few moments, Vegeta came out and walked to his car.

"Vegeta, I need you to come. This is more important than a few hours of training. Yamcha could be in serious trouble."

"Why should I help him? Do you need a ride there?" he asked, getting in the driver's seat and starting the car.

"Forget you, Vegeta!" Bulma flared, digging through her purse for a capsule. Finding a motorcycle, she pushed the button and threw it on the sidewalk in front of her. "I'll get there myself." she hopped up onto the motorcycle, securing her purse and putting on the silver helmet that came with the 'cycle. "Change into a human real quick and hop on the back, Puar."

"That's alright, Bulma. I'll just change into a rocket and fly above you." Puar squeaked out quickly. She was afraid of Bulma's driving.

"Fine. Bye, Vegeta." Bulma yelled angrily over the roar of the motorcycle's engine as she started the engine. She zoomed off the sidewalk and into traffic, quickly turning a corner and disappearing from Vegeta's sight. Puar flew serenely above her.

Vegeta smirked and roared out of town. He wanted to put some miles on his new car

*************************

"How'd you know where I was, Puar?" Bulma asked as she walked up the stairs of Yamcha's building to his apartment. Her motorcycle was once again a capsule along with her helmet. The only thing she carried was her purse.

"Well," Puar squeaked. "First I went to your house. Your relatives told me where you'd gone. Your mom told me where the restaurant was. Then I just flew to you as fast as I could. I hope Yamcha's alright." Puar sighed as they reached Yamcha's apartment door on the third floor. Puar pulled a key out of her back fur and unlocked the door, floating inside in front of Bulma.

Bulma stepped through the doorway and was immediately shocked at the sight she beheld. The place had been trashed. The wall in front of her had a big Yamcha-shaped hole in it. Through the hole, she could see the kitchen. The walls had man-sized indents in them, leaving the impression that someone had been thrown forcefully against them. 'I have to call the cops.' Bulma thought. 'I doubt they can help much, but at least they'll be on the lookout for Yamcha. I don't think he'd go through this much just to get me back.' Spotting a phone on the kitchen counter, she gingerly stepped through the Yamcha-sized hole in the dividing wall and into the kitchen. Puar stayed in the front room, holding a pair of Yamcha's dirty underwear and sobbing.

Bulma picked up the phone, wondering if Puar knew she was holding soiled boxers, and was relieved to hear a dial tone. She dialed '0' for operator and was soon telling the police Yamcha's address.

"And you don't live there, ma'am?" the police operator's voice asked.

"No. His roommate came over and got me. She's hysterical. Have you sent a car over yet?" Bulma asked impatiently.

"Yes, Miss Brief. They should be there in five minutes. Call back if you have any trouble before they get there, okay?"

"All right. Bye." Bulma agreed, hanging up and turning back towards the living room to tell Puar. She was surprised to see a young man standing in the doorway, his face in shadow. Puar was frozen, gazing up at him in terror.

"Who are you?" Bulma asked. Was this the man who had kidnaped Yamcha?

"You fell into my trap, Miss Brief. Now come here. I want to see the expression on your face when I kill you."

"What?! Get out!" Bulma said harshly, her hand creeping towards the phone.

"I don't like Yamcha much. I should've picked someone else to capture. Maybe I'll kill him in front of you and then kill you in front of her."

"You're crazy!" Bulma exclaimed.

The man slowly raised his finger and pointed at her. A small ball of energy came out and the phone blew up.

Bulma shrieked and jumped away. A shard of plastic cut her left arm below her elbow. A few drops of blood dripped down.

'Oh my Kami! I'm bleeding.' Bulma thought, staring down at the thin cut. She snapped her head up to warily watch the man.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to cut you yet," the man apologized blandly, taking a few steps closer to the Yamcha-sized hole in the wall that separated him from Bulma. "Make this easy for me and come over here, Bulma." His voice held no emotion.

Bulma was running out of options the closer the man got to her. "Run, Puar!" she screamed, hoping Puar would find help.

"But, Bulma!" Puar squeaked in protest.

"Run!" Bulma screamed at her.

Then man made no move to stop Puar as she streaked behind him and out the door. "Fine. No witnesses."

"The police are coming." Bulma's voice trembled despite her will power.

"They'll be too late for you." He walked towards the Yamcha-sized hole in the wall.

"No!" Bulma shrieked, groping behind her and finding the knife rack. Blindly, she pulled one out and held it in front of her. "Stay away."

A/n - Oooh, a cliffy. I wanted to see if it'll make more people review. All I need are a few reviews, notice the 's', to get a little motivation to type up another chapter. *looks around innocently* What? That wasn't a threat. I am so a nice person.