Cherry: Although this is an uber-short chapter, it once again is for a bit of comedy. Though this time, I was the one to write this, as opposed to the last one which I sorta wrote in part with my sister.... I think this one is much better but I could be biased; I am the writer, after all. Oh, and by the way, I DON'T own DBZ, nor does my sister.....

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Bulma woke up the next morning, her hands resting on her chest. She rubbed her eyes with her left hand and yawned. She opened her eyes and noticed she still had two hands on her chest. She blinked, looking at the hand she used to rub her eyes, then to her hand on her chest. But that sill left the third hand... She looked over and saw Yamcha lying on his side, facing her. He reached up and cupped her face, smiling sleepily.

"Mornin' sweetie..." he said.

Bulma blinked and pulled away, leaping up suddenly. She looked at him as he yawned, rolling out of bed. She followed his movements as he pulled some clothes out of his drawer and then headed off down the hall towards the bathroom.

"I'm gonna go take a shower and get dressed. Take the time to wake up and get dressed yourself. If ya want a shower, I'll be out in fifteen..." he called.

Bulma shook her head. "No… I'm fine."

He shrugged. "Okay..." he said, walking into the bathroom.

He shut the door behind him, the slam snapping Bulma out of her trance. She shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. The emotion she felt when she woke up next to him.... it was a warm, soothing feeling, one of comfort and kindness. To wake up and breathe in his scent, the musky, manly aroma...was beyond the joy of heaven itself. She sighed, pushing away the affectionate feelings that bubbled up as she usually did. Over in the corner was her duffel bag; Yamcha must have brought it up at some point. She walked over and pulled out her typical red dress. She took off yesterday's clothes that she had fallen asleep in and quickly pulled on her dress. She could still hear the shower going, and she knew Yamcha wouldn't be out for a while, but instinct pushed her to hurry along. Once fully dressed, she headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. She started up the coffee machine and brewed herself up a pot she poured herself a cup, liberally adding sugar and creamer. She took a sip, taking some time to contemplate feelings.

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Yamcha let the water beat down over his body as he showered, thinking back to when he first woke up. It was nice to wake up to Bulma's face in the morning; it was an experience that he hadn't felt in a long time. But he loved it; it made him feel warm and tingly. But he didn't want to grow attached; he couldn't. If he did, when she decided to leave...it would hurt more than it usually did whenever she left him alone. He sighed longingly, turning his face to the water spray. He knew Bulma would have to leave and go home at some time, maybe even less than in a week. But even having her for one night, if that was all he would get, made him happy. Even though she had broken his heart many times, he still loved her and always would.

He turned off the shower and pushed aside the curtain, and stepping out and drying off hastily with a towel. He picked his clothes up from where he left them on top of the toilet seat and began to get dressed. He pulled on his yellow slacks over his boxer shorts and tugged his typical white shirt down over his ears, brushing out his messy dark hair before heading out. He pushed open the door, and went up the hall, popping his head into his bedroom. Upon finding Bulma was not there, he shrugged and made his way back down the hall to the kitchen. He saw her sitting there reading a sales flyer that must have come in the mail, an empty coffee cup sitting to her right. He moved over to the counter, pouring himself a cup of the coffee. He looked to Bulma, smiling slightly.

"Have a good sleep?" he asked, grinning smartly.

Bulma looked up at Yamcha. She hadn't noticed him when he first came in, nor when he poured himself the cup of coffee. She watched him add creamer and a bit of sugar and then sip at it, a sly smile painted across his face. She sighed; flicking her eyes up over the flyer as he took out the newspaper she had pulled the sales catalogue from.

"Yeah...I slept well." she responded.

She didn't want to bring up this morning's 'wake-up' incident in case he had a witty, smart, remark. She looked back down, reading through the sales on appliances, clothes, and decor. She needed to take her mind off things for now...

Yamcha looked longingly at Bulma over the top of his newspaper. The way she was leaned over, he could pretty much see down the front of her low-cut dress. He groaned silently, wanting so much more than a peek. He figured he'd have to settle for ogling for now, but he needed more of a... view. Bulma was occupied with her flyer, so... That's when he got a great idea. He reached over and knocked Bulma's coffee cup off the table, then snapped his paper back up. Bulma looked up suddenly and sighed at the coffee cup on the floor.

"I guess I'll get that, seeing as how you aren't getting up anytime soon." she muttered.

She dropped down to the floor, bending over as she reached for the cup. Yamcha lowered his paper, letting his eyes lock onto her ass. Coupled with that short red dress she was wearing, he was getting quite an eyeful. He moaned to himself, feeling slightly horny. He kept chiding himself to look and not touch, but he wanted to smack her ass so bad. He grabbed his offending hand with the other and then sat on it to avoid a crisis.

Bulma crawled about the floor, finally getting about a finger's length away from the cup. Not wanting this to end so soon, Yamcha stomped his foot down, causing the cup to roll off a few more feet. Bulma stopped and turned around just as Yamcha pulled his hands out and snapped up his paper. She glared at him with scrutiny.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh...damn sports scores..." he muttered.

Bulma sighed and turned back around. "You and your sports...honestly!" she said, reaching for the cup again.

Yamcha lowered his paper and resumed ogling, drool running down his chin. He lapped his lips, looking unabashedly at Bulma's nice ass. He felt a shiver of pleasure run through his body, more through one part in particular than the rest. He shifted his legs, leaning over. He wanted to touch it...just a light tap, rub or pat...but he knew if he did, two things would happen. One: his cover would be blown, and two: Bulma would kill him. So he settled for speculating and groaned, feeling someone perk up for the occasion. Bulma finally retrieved the cup and stood up, her back to Yamcha.

"Got it!" she declared.

"Damn it all to Hell!" he yelled, snapping his fingers.

Bulma whipped around and just stared at him. He had already snapped the paper back up and was now frowning in mock anger.

"I really, really wanted that team to win...." he covered. Bulma seemed to buy all this and turned back around, washing out the cup and drying it off.

"Hey, where do you put the cups?" she asked.

Yamcha casually looked down from his newspaper and pointed up to a high cabinet. "Up there..."

Bulma sighed, pushing a chair over. She climbed up on it and stretched up to the cabinet, her short dress riding up her thighs. You can only imagine what this was doing to poor Yamcha's libido... he groaned, having to shift again, the lustful want growing stronger. It wasn't fair that he only got to look...

Bulma put the cup away and climbed back down, replacing the chair. She sat back down and picked up her flyer. They were quiet a moment before she spoke up.

"But seriously...if you knock my cup off the table again, I will have to kill you."

Yamcha dropped his paper, dumbfounded and speechless. Bulma smirked to herself silently and continued to read....

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Cherry: See? Uber-short. But no worries, the next chapter should be longer. I promise. ~_^ As always, reviews are loved......