Cherry: Hey, ho and welcome back! Actually, I'm surprised that you're still reading...especially after what I did to Veggie-chan...:sniffles: *runs over to Vegeta and clings to him* VEGGIE-CHAN!!! I am so sorry... I will do anything to make that up to you...

Vegeta: Why don't you go play in traffic???

Cherry:  *salutes like a marine* Sir yes sir! *runs out of the lounge*

Vegeta:  Finally...

::MEANWHILE::

               

*Cherry is standing in the middle of the street, watching cars swerve around her*

Cherry: I will do anything for Veggie-chan! Even if it's stupidly dangerous and runs the risk of me getting hit by a car! For I am in his debt for making him look like a satanic bastard, and technically, that's just the tip of the iceberg...he looks much worse in chapter four and especially in chapter five... Oh, Veggie-chan, I have forsaken thee!!! *sobs*

*is suddenly hit by an eighteen-wheeler*

Cherry: *peels self off the street with a large, cartoonish, spatula* But I will not die!!! I can't!!! I must stay alive for Veggie-chan…oh, and the story as well. But definitely for Veggie-chan!!! AWAY!!! *runs back into the studio*

::And so, after defying the laws of reality by being able to survive being hit by a truck unscathed, our debonair authoress charges back into the studio, most likely to inflict more torture on Vegeta. The only question we hold is why the hell does Vegeta stick around? Ah, well. That may never be known, but one thing is for certain: Cherry wolf doesn't own DBZ, nor will she ever....::

***

She woke up the next morning; still aching from the beating she received the night before. The bed was empty, save for her. She got up and limped into the bathroom. She gaped when she saw the face in the mirror. An angry bruise spanned her left cheekbone and a raging red handprint was sitting on her right cheek. She had a good-sized bump on her noggin, too. She ran back to the room and got dressed quickly as she could manage. At one point, during her haste, she put her shirt on backwards, something she almost never did. She retreated back to the bathroom and threw some concealer over her war wounds. The bump she could not hide, but she could at least make a convincing story. She trotted downstairs and into the kitchen. Vegeta was sitting at the table reading the paper. He glanced awry at Bulma over the top of the paper and then looked back away. She went to open the fridge but her hand stopped inches away from the handle. She really didn't feel too hungry. Her mother shuffled in, fluffing her hair

"Oh, you're up! Here. I want you to pick some stuff up for me at the store." she said, handing Bulma a shopping list.

"But I just went shopping!" she complained. "Why didn't you just give me this yesterday when I was out?" she demanded.

"I didn't need this yesterday." she smiled, still fluffing her hair. She giggled all stupid, like her brain had fallen out, and wandered off.

Bulma sighed, not wanting to argue the point. She needed an excuse to get out of the house away from Vegeta anyways. She grabbed her purse and pulled on a jacket, heading out the door.

*

Yamcha sat on a park bench, surveying the area for women. He was going to give up and head home when he saw Bulma walking down the street carrying a heavy-looking bag full of...stuff. She wandered over to the bench and sat down next to him.

"Hey baby, whatcha doin'?" he asked.

Bulma yelped and looked at him. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Hey, I was just sitting here on this bench, minding my own business and then you sat by me and spazed. Sheesh. It's always my fault, huh?" he blinked, looking slightly taken aback.

Bulma blushed and set down the heavy grocery bags. "Sorry."

"It's all cool. Now, why are ya carrying all those bags? Can't you just pop them into the trunk of your car and, you know, drive off?"

Bulma growled. "Gee, I would love to but...I left my damn keys at home." she muttered.

"Why didn't you run back and get them?"

Bulma wanted to tell him, to rat out Vegeta, but she didn't. If she did, he would get all protective of her and try to fight Vegeta. Poor Yamcha would get his ass thoroughly kicked. So she made up an excuse to hide behind.

"It's healthier to walk, anyways." she declared, crossing her arms.

"Whatever you say." he laughed.

Then he stopped. He noticed an angry purple mark showing through the concealer on her face. He wondered where she got it. He brought a hand up to Bulma's face and ran a finger across the bruise on her cheek. "Hey, what happened here? Fall down the stairs again?"

Fall down the stairs...that was the excuse she gave everyone to quell their worries when they saw the bruises and bumps she had. She blushed slightly and made up a lie hurriedly.

"Uh...yeah. Trunks left his bag on the stairs and I tripped on it."

"Again?" he uttered. He wanted to believe her but...she was probably telling the truth anyways.

"Yeah...again." she muttered.

"Damn, woman! You're more clumsy then I am at times!" he laughed, slapping her on the back fondly. He smiled at her and she felt her heart absolutely melt. She shook her head and smiled back.

"I have to get going now." she said as she stood up stiffly.

"Need any help with the bags?" he asked.

"No. I'm fine." she murmured.

He nodded and waved as she stumbled off hastily. He got up and began to walk home. He was worried about her. It seemed every day now she had a new excuse. Wait, no...a new bruise and an old excuse. She always got so defensive when she was asked about it and this bugged Yamcha. He suspected a few things...things Vegeta might be doing but...what was he going to do? Fight Vegeta? Hah. He was too strong a man, no saiyajin, for Yamcha to even try and fight. He sighed and looked back at Bulma's fleeting form. She looked so forlorn and hurt...he shook it off and smiled. She probably just had a lot to do, what with raising two kids and dealing with Vegeta. He laughed and thrust his hands in his pockets and walked up to the door of his home. He placed his hand on the doorknob and pushed inwards. He sat down on the couch and clicked on the TV. Nothing on. He got up and ventured out into the kitchen. Pu'ar floated in from the kitchen, and hovered next to Yamcha when he sat down.

"Have a good day?" she asked

"Yeah...not a total loss." he smiled.

"Good. I'm glad you're back to normal." she laughed. "Here. I made you some milky pops." she said, setting the glass in front of him.

Yamcha grinned and took a sip. "Mmmm…creamy." he smiled.

Pu'ar clung to his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. She said nothing but cried softly. "I was so scared I would lose you..." she whimpered.

"Don't worry. I ain't goin' nowhere." he said, reaching up and patting her head. "Just...don't worry anymore about me. I'm to wussy to really go through with it." he assured her.

Pu'ar smiled. She could care less about whether he was lying or not. She was just glad he was here and most of all…alive.

*

Bulma arrived home early, it was only about 1:00pm. She set the bags on the table and went to sneak back out the door when Vegeta put a hand on her shoulder.        

"Woman...where are you going? Not to see...him, I hope." Vegeta growled.

"Him? Oh...nonononono...I was just going to take a walk." she uttered. Truth was, she wanted out of the house, and away from him.

"I hope you aren't lying...or I may have to pay him a 'visit', if you know what I mean."

"No...I just wanted to take a stroll. The weather is nice and I still have things to pick up at the mall." she said apprehensively.

"Fine..." he grumbled, walking away. "Women and their shopping..." he uttered.

Bulma bolted out the door. She did go to the mall, but she didn't do any shopping. She just sort of sat on a bench and occasionally went into the stores and looked around. It was the first time she had ever went into the mall and didn't buy anything. She felt depressed and…well, dejected. The pain and stress all built up and bore down on her, crushing her resistance. She sat down and buried her face in her hands and just cried. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and she looked up. Yamcha was sitting next to her, a solemn look on his face.

"Okay. Out with it." he said, crossing his arms.

"Out...with what?" she asked, her heart speeding up.

"I know something has been going on. I want to know what." he explained bluntly.

"Nothing has been going on!" she screamed, jumping up and stamping her foot.

"You know, I'm not that stupid. Every day I see you, you have a new bruise. At first I thought nothing of it. Then, your excuses got more and more unbelievable. You used the same one three, four times. Your condition slowly deteriorated. I'm really worried." he confessed

"Wow...I never knew you had such a deep thought process, Yamcha...or that you knew such big words." she said, shocked at Yamcha's passionate soliloquy.

"Yeah, neither did I." he muttered.

There was a long silence before Bulma spoke up. "Look, you don't need to worry. I'm fine."

Yamcha stood up and looked at her. "Fine. I won't push the issue. I'm just really worried, that's all. If you ever need to talk, or need anything at all, you know my number. Things will always get worse before they get better." he said, standing up. He walked off, throwing one casual glance over his shoulder. It was almost as if he was psychic, things were going to get worse before they got better.

***

::BACK IN THE STUDIO::

Cherry: *comes running back in with animeish tire marks on her back* Veggie-chan, I have returned!!! I went and played in traffic like you ordered and even after getting hit by a large truck, I managed to survive the utter pain just so I could see you again!!! Is that not great???

Vegeta: *falls to his knees and looks up at the sky* Why, Kami-Sama, why??? What did I do to deserve this…other than all the sinning. *points at Cherry Wolf* Why must you do this to me??? If this is some sick cosmic joke, it's not funny anymore!!! Now you're just being cruel!!! WHY????? *falls down crying*

Cherry:  There, there, Veggie-chan…don't cry.

Vegeta:  *pops up and crosses arms, pretending like nothing happened* Cry? I have no idea what you are speaking of.

Cherry: Neither do I, but hey, I get around.

Vegeta: You depress me.

Kuro: Join the club, I say.

Cherry: Eh, whatcha gonna do?

*A loud rumble fills the studio, shaking the place all earthquake-like. Everyone turns to stare at Vegeta*

Vegeta: What? I'm hungry. I'm a sayajin; we fight and use a lot of energy and have high metabolisms. We have to eat a lot.

Kuro: Hey, didn't ask for a life story. Oh well, how about we go eat out someplace?

Cherry: All right!!! *pumps fist in air* Last one there's the…*pauses a moment*…last one there!!!!

*runs out door*

Kuro: *slams door shut behind Cherry* Wanna eat here?

Vegeta: Eh, okay

*exeunt (hee-hee, I'm learning Shakespeare. For those who do not know, exeunt means 'exit' or something. So basically, they left.)*

::Once again, our debonair authoress has been easily outsmarted. But this time, she remains intact and concussion free, so you can count on another chapter as soon as she gets back…::