Cherry: Here's the next three chapters. Sorry for the delay, but with MEAs (a big, irritating test-type thing) and, of course, homework, I haven't had much time to work on my fics....so be grateful! It would be nice to have more reviews, but I have to thank Thomas Drovin for at least taking the effort to type out a review at the end of each installment...

Kuro: Oh, don't bitch. At least you have three reviews. You forget Monkey_Tailed reviewed too.

Cherry: Ah, yeah...sorry. But anyway, I don't own DBZ (for the seventh time) nor will I ever. Now, enjoy!

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Bulma slowly opened the door to her house, stepping in warily and letting the door shut behind her. Her heart ached so bad. The confusion and strife of the past week made her want to scream, cry, and just die all at once. When she had left Yamcha's, he was still crying, every so often stopping to wipe the tears away from his face; making a new attempt each time to not burst out crying. Like it actually worked; each time it seemed twice as many tears came as before. But despite Bulma's offers to stay and calm him down, he just smiled weakly and told her to go. They both finally agreed this was for the better, and that things had to end before one of them ended up dead. He looked like he was trying not to sob as she turned and left, and he was failing worse than before. He had tears running down his face as she turned around and ran down the street. She didn't look back once for she knew that if she did, she would never go back home.

She went over and sat down on the couch, rubbing her temples. Today had just been too much for her to handle. She was almost glad to be back home, in a place that was familiar to her senses. But it wasn't a good kind of familiar, she decided as she thought about Vegeta, and felt her happiness ebb away. Bra suddenly came bounding in, Trunks following close behind.

"Mama! Where have you been? We've missed you!" Bra said, squiggling into Bulma's lap.

Trunks sat down next to her and looked her in the eyes. "Ma?" he asked.

She shook her head and smiled. "I...was on a little vacation." she answered slowly.

"That's what Papa said..." Bra spoke, grinning at the reassurance. She kissed Bulma lightly on the cheek and smiled, scuttling off to go and play. Trunks, however, remained. He looked his mother in the eyes and frowned.

"Ma.... what's going on?" he asked sternly.

"Nothing, Trunks. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Tell me. I'm old enough to handle things. I can take anything you tell me."

"No!" she shrieked. "No! There's nothing wrong! Nothing! I just needed a break from everything, that's all. A little vacation..."

"You're having problems with dad again, aren't you?"

Bulma stroked Trunk's face. "No, no... It'll be all right...." she said.

"I wish you wouldn't talk down on me. I'm not a baby. Tell me what happened, now."

Bulma's lips trembled and tears formed. She frowned and sighed.

"I...yes. Your father and I are just in a spat right now, but everything will be okay. I promise."

Trunks digested this, and seemed to accept it. "Did...are you having an affair?" he asked.

"What???" Bulma asked.

"I just see it on TV and in the movies so..."

"Well, this is real life, not a movie. I am not having an affair, and we'll be all right. Just you wait and see." she assured him. Trunks nodded and wandered off, seeming satisfied.

Bulma put her face in her hands and sighed. She hated lying to her own kids but they would never fully understand what was going on, so it was better for them to be in the dark on this issue.

"Well, woman...where were you?"

Bulma snapped her head up and looked through tear-blurred eyes at Vegeta. He glowered at her with his arms crossed. He snarled at her, a horrible look of malevolence spread across his face.

"Come up stairs with me." he demanded.

Bulma shuddered; this was something that would not end well. She followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom, her heart pounding. She stood shyly and meekly near the side of the bed as he slammed the door.

"Where were you?" he interrogated.

"I...was over at..." if she told Vegeta she had been at Yamcha's, he would beat the fuck out of her and then kill Yamcha, making it as painful as possible. "I was at Chi-chi's. I was visiting." she declared.

"You walked all the way out there that night? In the rain?" he interrogated.

"No... I took a Capsule plane." she declared.

"None were missing, woman"

"How would you know??? Do you take inventory???" she screamed defensively.

Vegeta closed his eyes and frowned. "I hate to do this but..." He hit Bulma across the face with stunning force. "...But this is the only way you'll learn! Learn that I'm in charge!" he hit her again and again, slapping her silly. "This is for your own good...." he hissed.

He removed his belt from around his waist and folded it, snapping it against the air.

"Papa?" came a small voice.

Vegeta snarled and dropped the belt. He took on a caring air and turned around, facing the door.

"What is it, sweetie?" he asked.

Bra popped her head in and smiled. Bulma turned around and pretended she was looking for something under the bed. Her daughter didn't need to see her tear-stained, and probably red and bruised as well, face. Vegeta smiled at his daughter, approaching the door.

"Papa...could you tuck me in? Mama looks sorta busy, so..." she asked, cast a glance at her mother.

"I'll be there in a moment, dear." he told her. The minute Bra disappeared, Vegeta whipped around and grabbed Bulma by arm, wrenching her up to his eye level. He glared directly into her eyes and snarled.

"Listen wench, you put one toe out of line, and I will beat you until you can no longer stand. Do you understand me?" he demanded.

"Yes...." she sobbed. "Yes.... just please...go..."

Vegeta stomped out, still fuming. Bulma whimpered softly, wanting to tell someone what was happening and to help her, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. She began to cry, feeling so helpless. Things just couldn't go on like this, not while she was carrying a baby. She reached over and picked up the phone sitting on her bedside table and dialed up a familiar number; a number that had served her well in the past.

"Yo?"

"Yamcha! Oh, thank Kami you're home!" she sobbed into the receiver.

"What? What happened? Bulma?" Yamcha asked, his voice sounding wound up and worried. "This better not be a damned discussion on what color pumps you should wear with your dress..." he tried to joke.

"Kami, no! Oh.... Vegeta's lost it. He was really tweaked when I came home. He...he says it's to put me in my place and to establish his role, but I--" she babbled.

"Wait, back up. What is 'it'?"

Bulma froze. She hadn't told him about Vegeta hitting her. The silence was long enough for Yamcha to guess on his own.

"He hit you, didn't he?"

"No... no... he..."

"He did, right?"

"No!" she yelled. But then she got silent, knowing that although she could fool her young, she could not fool Yamcha. "Yes."

"Dammit! I knew it! I knew he was doing that to you...." he growled.

"Yamcha...don't get angry. Standing up for me will only get you killed...." she whimpered.

"I can't just sit here while he beats you up!" he yelled.

"No... I shouldn't have bothered you...I should have just sat here and minded my own business."

"No... calling me was the best thing you could do."

"Yamcha...please don't--"

She was cut off abruptly as Vegeta yanked the receiver out of her hands.

"What the hell are you doing???" he screamed at her, clutching the receiver in a deathgrip.

"I...I...I...was just talki--"

Vegeta smacked her again.

"Dammit! What about the talk we just had???" he asked, smacking her again.

Bulma began to cry uncontrollably. "I...I'm sorry..

Vegeta looked at the receiver with distaste and crushed it in grip. He picked up the belt and advanced on Bulma, a horrible look in his eyes....

~*~

Yamcha blinked, looking at his phone. The ending of the conversation did not sound good. The loud yell, the sound of a stinging slap and the sobs...Good god, Bulma was in for it. Yamcha hung up the phone numbly, blinking as he realized what he had to do. He neglected to throw on his jacket and shoes as he ran to the front door, shoving it open. At least it wasn't raining this time.

"Yamcha...where are you going?" Pu'ar asked, floating out to the kitchen, casting a anxious glance at him.

"Somewhere. I'll be back soon!" he yelled as he bolted. There was no time for any explanations, either.

His feet pounded the pavement as he ran down the distance to Bulma's house. More than once he stepped on something sharp that cleaved the skin on his soles, but he didn't stop; he couldn't. Pain has long since ceased to be an object to him. He panted, feeling like he was too old to be running around like this. He put on the speed as he turned a corner and...

::CRASH::

He slammed slap-bang into Bulma. He got up and looked down at her. She looked up at him with a tear-stained face full of fear and scrabbled up, hiding behind him.

"Oh, Kami...don't let him get me..." she wailed.

"Wh-what? Who? Vegeta?" he asked, confused.

Bulma hid behind him, burying her face in his clean white shirt, wrinkling the back and soaking it with her tears. The he saw him. Vegeta. He was walking slowly, a blank expression on his face. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth the moment he saw Yamcha; that was his typical response to Yamcha's presence. But this time there was something more to his glare. It was almost murderous. Vegeta snarled, speeding up his stiff walk. Yamcha felt his heart go weak, and his mind raced through the list of options: run, faint, piss pants...his mind finally settled on 'stay and defend Bulma.' He stuck his arms out protectively and glared back at Vegeta. The saiyajin prince stopped and crossed his arms.

"Move, earth scum." he growled. It wasn't a request, it was a command.

Yamcha swallowed hard. "No. I won't let you hurt her anymore."

"Move if you value your life."

The danger he was in was making his 'run for your life' senses go crazy. He swallowed the lump in his throat and responded in a clear voice. "Never."

Vegeta pulled his hand back, energy crackling around his knuckles. He snarled and then dropped his hand.

"You aren't worth my time." he said, turning away. "Woman...when you want to come back, then we'll talk. Until then...do as you please." he said, a little too calm for comfort.

Yamcha tensed his fists as he watched Vegeta's figure retreat.

"I'll come with you." he said to Bulma.

She walked out in front of him and looked at him sorrowfully. "Please...go home. I don't want you getting hurt. Vegeta was clam now, but he won't hold back for long. He is strong enough to kill you in an instant. Just...go. I don't want to cause you anymore pain...emotional or physical." she whispered, burying her face in his chest. Yamcha embraced her and nuzzled his face in her hair.

"I think I may be dead inside. You can't do anything more." he muttered.

"Dead inside? If you come, you'll be dead on the outside too!" she screamed.

"I don't care." he muttered. "It just doesn't matter anymore."

Bulma finally conceded and allowed Yamcha to carry her back to her house. She was still sobbing as he carried her up the stairs and set her on the bed. He sat down and glared at Vegeta, who was standing with his arms crossed in the corner of the room.

"What are you doing here, earth scum?" he snarled.

Yamcha swallowed hard. "I'm here to make sure you don't hurt Bulma. Call me a bodyguard."

Vegeta twitched and snorted. "Fine." he said, stomping his foot.

"Vegeta, please...I want the suffering to stop. Just...let this go. It was a one-night stand. There's nothing between us." she said, gesturing to Yamcha.

Vegeta's face was slowly turning red.

Yamcha felt his heart being torn in two. The way she said it, without any emotion... Was he being foolish, thinking there was still a spark left of their flame? He looked over at Bulma and saw the tears running down her face. She did care, it was hard...he felt warm trickles running down his cheeks as well. He sniffed and looked on blankly.

"She's right. It was nothing. I...can get excited at times. It wasn't her fault, she had no say...I just..." he stumbled, hastily trying to cover.

"So it was rape? You seduced my wife?" Vegeta demanded, stepping up towards Yamcha.

"Uh...well..." Yamcha muttered.

"No… don't listen to him...he's sheltering me. We both had an equal part in this." she confessed.

"Bulma..." Yamcha muttered, casting a backwards glance at her.

"Great." Vegeta said sarcastically, "So in my house I have a slut who can't keep her legs together and her male prostitute companion. This is just fabulous. And the kicker is...I'm married to the slut, as in she is my mate..." he growled, clenching his fists. Blood seeped down his wrists as he tried to restrain himself.

"Vegeta...let's just forget about this...I have a baby now, it will bring us closer...we can't mess things up. Think of the baby and its life..." she coaxed.

"Yeah, Vegeta...think of your kid." Yamcha said, flashing the saiyajin a weak smile.

"Yes...another mouth to feed." he muttered darkly.

"Vegeta...can't you just...see the bright side of things..." she sobbed.

"What bright side? Is there even a bright side to your tramping? I bet that kid is his." he snarled, looking at Yamcha with intense hatred. "That filthy scum...that baby will be lower than he is. Why? Because it is a horrid child derived from your sleeping around and fucking random men!!!!!" Vegeta screamed, winding his hand back.

He brought it down forcefully and a slap rang out in the air, loud and furious. Bulma opened her eyes slowly, confused by the lack of pain and impact, gently rubbing her cheek. Nothing. She looked up, puzzled, and saw what had happened. Yamcha was standing up in front of her, a crimson handprint on his un-scarred cheek. He grabbed it and dropped into a painful crouch, wincing.

"Is…that...the best you...can do? I've been hit by harder pillows...." he muttered, blood seeping out the corner of his mouth and his nose, pain roaring through his jaw.

Vegeta lost it. This was enough. No more. He punched Yamcha as hard as he could, hitting him over and over. Yamcha lashed out at him a few times in defense, but his blows had no effect against the beating he was receiving. Bulma grabbed Vegeta and he whipped around, knocking her in the teeth and sending her flying into the wall. Yamcha felt energy surge through his veins...and a warm, protective instinct possessed his being. He snarled, the room spinning. He screamed out a war cry and tackled Vegeta. Vegeta stumbled out of his grasp and tripped...right out the window. Yamcha settled down and gaped in horror at what he had done.

Both he and Bulma ran to the window and gazed down. Vegeta was lying on the ground...and he wasn't moving. Bulma felt her heart leap into her throat. Yamcha was mortified. They both stood, gripping each other's hands until Vegeta twitched, and then got up. He glared up at them and drifted back up, perching on the windowsill. He glowered furiously as the pair backed up and sat on the bed, Yamcha embracing Bulma, just in case. Vegeta snarled, extremely unhappy.

"Get out of my house, earth scum. Leave before I separate your head from your neck. NOW." he threatened, hopping down off the sill and advancing towards the two.

"No. I can't leave Bulma..." he said, fear pumping through his veins. "I want to protect her."

"Fine. So this is how things will end..." he muttered.

Things went by so fast, Yamcha had no idea what was happening. Despite the speed at which the events occurred, it all seemed to play out in slow-mo. Vegeta held out his hand, pulling it back into a fist. There was a brief area of blankness, but the next thing Yamcha knew, he was laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. There was a sudden burst of pain and burning-hot warmth accompanied with a flash of bright light. There was screaming, lots of screaming. His own voice singing out in pain along with the terror of another. After a second sharp pain, it all went black for Yamcha as his senses faded away....

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Cherry: That's the end of chapter seven. Reviewers are loved. Anyone? Please?