Author's Note: First of all, sorry for the delay. I've been to my
grandmother in a God-forsaken village. Second of all, don't flame me if you
think Bulma gave in too easily. She didn't the poor thing. She just woke up
in a strange situation and needs time to revert to her usual self. Third: I
have no control whatsoever over the characters. They completely ignore me
and behave like they want, I am like the step-mother of some teenagers.
Fourth: enjoy and tell me what you think about it!
House Arrest and an Orange
Bulma woke up for the second day in a row in Vegeta's bedroom. At first, she had this crazy idea that the past day had never happened but after a minute or two she put all the pieces together, including the incident from the previous evening with Vegeta barging in her room. That bastard must have knocked her out cold! Who the fuck did he think he was? She still had pains in her neck!
Letting out a sigh of relief at the fact that she still had her PJ's on, Bulma walked determinately to the door, grabbing the knob violently and pushing against the door with all her might. The door, however, refused to open. What the hell is that suppose to mean? I'm locked in !? The nerve of that guy ! I swear, I'm gonna rip him into small pieces and be done with it ! Who the fuck does he think he is ?
At that point, anger had already gotten the best of Bulma. She started kicking the door with her fists and feet, yelling at the top of her lungs:
"Hey, let me out! Mom, dad, can you hear me? Let me out! Somebody! Anybody! I'm going to kill you when I get out! Do you hear me, prince of all monkeys?"
Unfortunately, there was little hope of somebody coming to her rescue soon, due to the fact that Vegeta's room was placed in a secluded area of the compound, because of the danger the prince represented.
Some minutes later, after having screamed herself hoarse, her limbs hurt from the unfair match with the solid wood of the door, Bulma remembered that she was a mechanical genius and decided to let her magical hands do the trick. Surprise, surprise! The mechanism of the door had been built by Bulma herself and was activated only by the voice of the owner - in this case, Vegeta -. And the owner could lock or unlock the door both from inside and outside the room, but the problem was the fact that the entire apparatus was outside, the inner knob being merely a concession made to the fashion. In other words, Bulma had to wait for somebody, namely Vegeta, to let her out.
After having reached this disturbing conclusion, Bulma scolded herself for having been so brilliant in designing the locks, then remembered that she was a pretty girl - and she would remain one as long as she stopped frowning, hence keeping the wrinkles at a safe distance.
As she strolled through the room, she took her time to think seriously about Vegeta. What was he trying to pull? What was that thing about moving in with him? Was he serious? He sure looked like! But why? He had made it perfectly clear that he thought her to be unworthy to put it mildly. Really, did he know so little about feelings that he didn't understand she had been tremendously hurt by his actions? And in more ways than one.
Entering the adjoined bathroom, Bulma felt her cheeks redden at the site of her toiletries mingled with those of Vegeta. He didn't have much, really. A toothbrush and a hairbrush - she wondered absent-mindedly if he brushed his hair or if he had some method to preserve its flame position - soap, a bottle of shampoo, a razor and some intact after-shaves her mother must have bought for him. Over them now laid make-up kits, eyeliners, all sorts of lipsticks, powders, her four hairbrushes, different brands of soap and shampoo, creams and other cosmetic stuff. Her blush only deepened when she saw that he had also brought in her Tampax (tampons for those that aren't girls) and she was shocked at seeing her toothbrush laying peacefully next to his. These two things made her realise that Vegeta was extremely serious about the whole deal.
How was she going to cope with this new problem? She wondered as she reluctantly took a quick shower, forfeiting the long baths she was accustomed to. Despite her careful search, she was unable to find some clothes for herself, so she put on again the fluffy, pink PJs and did her morning rituals feeling extremely awkward. Then, she climbed into bed, leaning on some pillows against the bedpost and trying to keep her mind from the rising hunger.
She had mentally prepared a long and well-argumented speech to deliver to the prince the moment he stepped into the room, but when it did happen, five hours later, she had one single goal left in life: to eat.
Bulma watched in fascination as the door slid open and a Vegeta grudgingly stepped in, shutting the door behind him violently. He appeared rather tired, as he was most likely coming from the GR, but all that was lost to Bulma as she spotted in one of his hands the object of her most ardent desires: food.
She practically flung herself towards her goal but she never reached it. Vegeta nonchalantly did a side step, dropping himself in one of the armchairs in the room, while Bulma stood still as if glued to the floor, trembling in anger and frustration.
"Vegeta, give it to me!" she spat furiously at being denied.
"Hmph, I never thought you to be the direct type." He mocked casually, watching in detachment as she blushed, realising the sexual connotation of her line.
"You know I didn't mean it like that! I need to eat, y'know! Let me out of here, you ape! What is wrong with you?" Bulma's anger grew as her search for something to hit him with proved to be fruitless. She didn't care what was going to do to her, as long as she got a good hit on him first.
"Poor little girl! Wants her mummy?" he chuckled cruelly.
At that point, Bulma decided she really didn't need to hear any of this. So she threw herself at him, or should I say at the orange in his hand.
What followed was an uneven wrestling match. Bulma somehow ended up in his lap, trashing wildly as she reached up for his hand, which he kept on lifting into the air. The woman's struggles came to an abrupt halt as she felt something hot and wet closing upon her nipple. She was horrified at realising that she had been performing a lap dance and that Vegeta had been merely acting upon an unwritten invitation in taking one of her jiggling breasts in front of him.
Orange forgotten, she stood up quickly and walked away from him, relieved that he made no move to stop her.
"Here's the deal, woman. I have something you want. The question is what are you willing to pay for it!"
"What!? You want money?" she asked incredulously.
"Don't be stupid woman!" he spat. "Right now you don't have any money. You only have what's on you!"
Then, changing the tone of his voice he asked seductively, swinging the orange from one hand to another
"And what a fine line of clothes you have! I especially like those pink pants. They would matched my shirt quite nicely, don't you think?"
"Huh?" Bulma had been watching mesmerised the orange, but her attention was somehow caught by the Saiyan's last words.
"Well", Vegeta concluded standing up, "I want them!"
"Excuse me? What, are you turning gay or what?" She regretted her words the second they left her mouth. Great, now he made him angry. She involuntary cringed at the prospect of being hit again.
However, Vegeta seemed to be unfazed, just slightly amused.
"That is going to cost you. I seemed to have made a passion for pink and now I must have the blouse too." "Like no way!" she balled her hands into fists. "You pervert! I'd rather starve to death then...."
"Would you now?" In an instant Vegeta had appeared behind her grabbing her wrists, holding them in front of her and pinning her soft body against his as his chin nestled itself in the crook of her neck. His other hand came up to carry the orange to her nose, allowing her to take in the appetising smell of fresh fruit.
By now Bulma was really determined to find a way to physically hurt him, once she was out of this mess.
"You know" he whispered softly in her ear "the feeling of biting into this delicious sweetness. And the juice pouring softly into your mouth and down your throat" he paused to kiss her cheek softly "and the fresh taste in your mouth....You want it, don't you? It's so easy to have it .....so easy .....Bulma ....give me what I want and I will give it to you ...the smell" - he started rubbing himself against her, letting her know he was aroused - "the flavour" - he moved to breath in the scent of her hair-"the taste" - his teeth found the bite mark he had put on her not too long ago and kissed it gently-"... the feel.. "he ended, his teeth biting down harsh, reopening the wound and tasting the fresh blood.
Bulma knew that it wasn't about food any more he was talking about. He wanted more and for one moment he was willing to give herself to him. It would be soo easy. Too easy, she realised. Plus, she decided to move on and she, too, was as stubborn as a mule.
She cried out, feeling his sharp teeth and remembered the little wound on her neck, which she had problems concealing. Now it could leave a scar on her unblemished skin!
"No!" she yelled, snapping out of the magic his actions had put her in and freeing herself from his grasp. "No!" she repeated and, as if it weren't enough, Bulma decided to vocalise one of the most stupid lines of her life "I'm not hungry any more!"
"Oh, but you will" was his only reply as the door slam shut behind him.
***
hours later
"Eight...Eight and a half!"
"Nine !.C'mon, girl, you can do it!" she whispered exhausted.
"Ten!" she breathed our collapsing to the floor.
She had done it! Ten push-ups!
'Yeah" she thought ironically to herself 'I'll catch up with Vegeta in no time!'
"Huh, who would have thought it to be so difficult!" she mused as she was crawling on all fours to the bathroom to take a shower.
It was now as clear as daylight that the prince was playing mind games with her: isolation, solitude and hunger. But despite the fact that she had guessed his game, she could do nothing to stop it. Quite the contrary: knowing that he was up to something made her extremely nervous as she kept on trying to predict hid next move. And why wasn't anybody looking for her? How was her baby doing? Mum would take care of him for sure, but she could be so dizzy sometimes! Had she woken in the Twilight Zone?
*** By night-time, Bulma's hunger had reached astronomical proportions. She did not eat much usually - there had been hours and hours spent in her lab without a bite. But now, since she was being denied, she wanted it more than anything and, the harder she tried not to think about it, the worse the hunger became.
Upon hearing the soft padding down the hallway and towards her room, Bulma quickly untangled herself from the bed sheets, grabbing a lamp which had been laying peacefully on the nightstand, hid behind the door and prepared to strike. The room was now quietly bathed in a dim light from one lamp left on.
It was a hastily made-up plan that she herself trusted little, but in her current state she couldn't come up with anything better.
Vegeta stepped into room, sweat dripping off him in small rivulets.
Raising the lamp into the air, she struck with all her might, trying to sneak past him and out the door. One arm latched itself around her waist, pulling her back into the room with careless force, hence making her land on her butt.
Bulma winced as she saw the door sliding shut, trapping her with Vegeta in the room. She gasped as she realised how angry he was. His onyx eyes were practically burning holes through him.
'Oh my God, he's really gonna kill me this time!" she thought desperately as she started crawling away from him. Trunks came into her mind. He had no father and now, because of her temper, would loose his mother too. She had never seen Vegeta looking so pissed outside a battle.
She retreated more as Vegeta advanced, so in the end, she trapped herself in a corner, her back pressed tightly into the wall. Summoning up her powers she stood tall, facing the Saiyan. His silence was the scariest thing about him right now, besides his burning eyes, glistening in the mild darkness.
"Ve..Vegeta." she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
Silence.
'How, how can I stop him? I don't want to die, I'm still young! There could be one thing, but how would he react? God, I'm gonna be blasted away!'
Shaking like a leaf, Bulma lifted her arms and slowly started unbuttoning her shirt. She could feel Vegeta's gaze upon her slowly exposed flesh.
After all the buttons were undone, she made no move, staring at her feet.
"Take it off." he whispered huskily.
Bulma shuddered, but made no move to take the shirt off.
His hands came up on either sides of her body, caressing her arms, gripping her shoulders and pulling her slowly towards him. Then he grabbed the sides of the shirt, pulling it down slowly, leaving Bulma clad only in her pyjama pants.
The air seemed to have grown thick in the room for she had problems breathing regularly. A sort of strange sexual languor had been engulfing them, sending shivers through her body.
Vegeta's hands then travelled south, slipping under the waistband of her pants, grabbing it tightly.
Meanwhile, Bulma looked up to him through glazed eyes, her mind barely registrating the strange look on Vegeta's face. For he looked strange, as he stood there doing nothing more than watching her with some sort of bizarre curiosity, his hands feeling hot on her skin. Her nose picked up the smell of him, a strange kind of smell, deep and enticing. He smelled like nobody else, deep forest with a touch of spice, mixed along with something else she did not recognise.
Part of her wanted to run away and hide in a far-away place, while the other part wanted desperately to kiss him. Licking her lips nervously, she lifted herself slightly on her toes and started to get closer to him.
"Ah!" she cried out startled, feeling her pants being ripped away, the sound of tearing clothes bringing her back to reality.
Vegeta seemed to come out of a daze also as he closed his eyes and took a long breath, closing his eyes. When he re-opened them he had become the same as usual, cold, calm and calculated.
Bulma gulped nervously as the magic between them was broken, then lifted up her arms to protect her bare chest and watched as Vegeta stepped aside.
An orange came rolling down to her feet and she lifted it up and started de- coiling it and eating it hungrily. She could do so, as Vegeta seemed to be oblivious to her presence. He formed a little ki-ball and turned her clothes into ashes, then dropped himself on the bed, his back to Bulma and started puling off his boots. He carelessly strolled past Bulma on his way to the bathroom and soon the water from the shower could be heard.
As he was showering, Bulma improvised herself a dress form a bed sheet and prepared herself for the worse. She just couldn't believe herself! She almost kissed him out of her own will! Hello! This is the guy that put you in a hospital, remember?
The worst came up ten minutes later in the form of a bare naked Vegeta who once again passed by her without even acknowledging her presence and climbed into bed, turning off the little lamp, hence leaving a pitch-black darkness in the room.
"Well", he finally spoke, "aren't you coming to bed?"
The same problem had been going through Bulma's mind as well. As things stood at that point, she had two possibilities: to sleep in a chair or in bed with Vegeta.
The chair it will be! She decided, wrapping the sheet tighter against her body. Outside the wind was blowing furiously, blasting the dead leaves into the dark sky.
She winced as she hit something through the darkness. She really had a hard time finding a chair in the dark. Finally, after much fussing, Bulma managed to put aside the slight hunger she still had and the chills given by the cold of the room, and fell asleep.
House Arrest and an Orange
Bulma woke up for the second day in a row in Vegeta's bedroom. At first, she had this crazy idea that the past day had never happened but after a minute or two she put all the pieces together, including the incident from the previous evening with Vegeta barging in her room. That bastard must have knocked her out cold! Who the fuck did he think he was? She still had pains in her neck!
Letting out a sigh of relief at the fact that she still had her PJ's on, Bulma walked determinately to the door, grabbing the knob violently and pushing against the door with all her might. The door, however, refused to open. What the hell is that suppose to mean? I'm locked in !? The nerve of that guy ! I swear, I'm gonna rip him into small pieces and be done with it ! Who the fuck does he think he is ?
At that point, anger had already gotten the best of Bulma. She started kicking the door with her fists and feet, yelling at the top of her lungs:
"Hey, let me out! Mom, dad, can you hear me? Let me out! Somebody! Anybody! I'm going to kill you when I get out! Do you hear me, prince of all monkeys?"
Unfortunately, there was little hope of somebody coming to her rescue soon, due to the fact that Vegeta's room was placed in a secluded area of the compound, because of the danger the prince represented.
Some minutes later, after having screamed herself hoarse, her limbs hurt from the unfair match with the solid wood of the door, Bulma remembered that she was a mechanical genius and decided to let her magical hands do the trick. Surprise, surprise! The mechanism of the door had been built by Bulma herself and was activated only by the voice of the owner - in this case, Vegeta -. And the owner could lock or unlock the door both from inside and outside the room, but the problem was the fact that the entire apparatus was outside, the inner knob being merely a concession made to the fashion. In other words, Bulma had to wait for somebody, namely Vegeta, to let her out.
After having reached this disturbing conclusion, Bulma scolded herself for having been so brilliant in designing the locks, then remembered that she was a pretty girl - and she would remain one as long as she stopped frowning, hence keeping the wrinkles at a safe distance.
As she strolled through the room, she took her time to think seriously about Vegeta. What was he trying to pull? What was that thing about moving in with him? Was he serious? He sure looked like! But why? He had made it perfectly clear that he thought her to be unworthy to put it mildly. Really, did he know so little about feelings that he didn't understand she had been tremendously hurt by his actions? And in more ways than one.
Entering the adjoined bathroom, Bulma felt her cheeks redden at the site of her toiletries mingled with those of Vegeta. He didn't have much, really. A toothbrush and a hairbrush - she wondered absent-mindedly if he brushed his hair or if he had some method to preserve its flame position - soap, a bottle of shampoo, a razor and some intact after-shaves her mother must have bought for him. Over them now laid make-up kits, eyeliners, all sorts of lipsticks, powders, her four hairbrushes, different brands of soap and shampoo, creams and other cosmetic stuff. Her blush only deepened when she saw that he had also brought in her Tampax (tampons for those that aren't girls) and she was shocked at seeing her toothbrush laying peacefully next to his. These two things made her realise that Vegeta was extremely serious about the whole deal.
How was she going to cope with this new problem? She wondered as she reluctantly took a quick shower, forfeiting the long baths she was accustomed to. Despite her careful search, she was unable to find some clothes for herself, so she put on again the fluffy, pink PJs and did her morning rituals feeling extremely awkward. Then, she climbed into bed, leaning on some pillows against the bedpost and trying to keep her mind from the rising hunger.
She had mentally prepared a long and well-argumented speech to deliver to the prince the moment he stepped into the room, but when it did happen, five hours later, she had one single goal left in life: to eat.
Bulma watched in fascination as the door slid open and a Vegeta grudgingly stepped in, shutting the door behind him violently. He appeared rather tired, as he was most likely coming from the GR, but all that was lost to Bulma as she spotted in one of his hands the object of her most ardent desires: food.
She practically flung herself towards her goal but she never reached it. Vegeta nonchalantly did a side step, dropping himself in one of the armchairs in the room, while Bulma stood still as if glued to the floor, trembling in anger and frustration.
"Vegeta, give it to me!" she spat furiously at being denied.
"Hmph, I never thought you to be the direct type." He mocked casually, watching in detachment as she blushed, realising the sexual connotation of her line.
"You know I didn't mean it like that! I need to eat, y'know! Let me out of here, you ape! What is wrong with you?" Bulma's anger grew as her search for something to hit him with proved to be fruitless. She didn't care what was going to do to her, as long as she got a good hit on him first.
"Poor little girl! Wants her mummy?" he chuckled cruelly.
At that point, Bulma decided she really didn't need to hear any of this. So she threw herself at him, or should I say at the orange in his hand.
What followed was an uneven wrestling match. Bulma somehow ended up in his lap, trashing wildly as she reached up for his hand, which he kept on lifting into the air. The woman's struggles came to an abrupt halt as she felt something hot and wet closing upon her nipple. She was horrified at realising that she had been performing a lap dance and that Vegeta had been merely acting upon an unwritten invitation in taking one of her jiggling breasts in front of him.
Orange forgotten, she stood up quickly and walked away from him, relieved that he made no move to stop her.
"Here's the deal, woman. I have something you want. The question is what are you willing to pay for it!"
"What!? You want money?" she asked incredulously.
"Don't be stupid woman!" he spat. "Right now you don't have any money. You only have what's on you!"
Then, changing the tone of his voice he asked seductively, swinging the orange from one hand to another
"And what a fine line of clothes you have! I especially like those pink pants. They would matched my shirt quite nicely, don't you think?"
"Huh?" Bulma had been watching mesmerised the orange, but her attention was somehow caught by the Saiyan's last words.
"Well", Vegeta concluded standing up, "I want them!"
"Excuse me? What, are you turning gay or what?" She regretted her words the second they left her mouth. Great, now he made him angry. She involuntary cringed at the prospect of being hit again.
However, Vegeta seemed to be unfazed, just slightly amused.
"That is going to cost you. I seemed to have made a passion for pink and now I must have the blouse too." "Like no way!" she balled her hands into fists. "You pervert! I'd rather starve to death then...."
"Would you now?" In an instant Vegeta had appeared behind her grabbing her wrists, holding them in front of her and pinning her soft body against his as his chin nestled itself in the crook of her neck. His other hand came up to carry the orange to her nose, allowing her to take in the appetising smell of fresh fruit.
By now Bulma was really determined to find a way to physically hurt him, once she was out of this mess.
"You know" he whispered softly in her ear "the feeling of biting into this delicious sweetness. And the juice pouring softly into your mouth and down your throat" he paused to kiss her cheek softly "and the fresh taste in your mouth....You want it, don't you? It's so easy to have it .....so easy .....Bulma ....give me what I want and I will give it to you ...the smell" - he started rubbing himself against her, letting her know he was aroused - "the flavour" - he moved to breath in the scent of her hair-"the taste" - his teeth found the bite mark he had put on her not too long ago and kissed it gently-"... the feel.. "he ended, his teeth biting down harsh, reopening the wound and tasting the fresh blood.
Bulma knew that it wasn't about food any more he was talking about. He wanted more and for one moment he was willing to give herself to him. It would be soo easy. Too easy, she realised. Plus, she decided to move on and she, too, was as stubborn as a mule.
She cried out, feeling his sharp teeth and remembered the little wound on her neck, which she had problems concealing. Now it could leave a scar on her unblemished skin!
"No!" she yelled, snapping out of the magic his actions had put her in and freeing herself from his grasp. "No!" she repeated and, as if it weren't enough, Bulma decided to vocalise one of the most stupid lines of her life "I'm not hungry any more!"
"Oh, but you will" was his only reply as the door slam shut behind him.
***
hours later
"Eight...Eight and a half!"
"Nine !.C'mon, girl, you can do it!" she whispered exhausted.
"Ten!" she breathed our collapsing to the floor.
She had done it! Ten push-ups!
'Yeah" she thought ironically to herself 'I'll catch up with Vegeta in no time!'
"Huh, who would have thought it to be so difficult!" she mused as she was crawling on all fours to the bathroom to take a shower.
It was now as clear as daylight that the prince was playing mind games with her: isolation, solitude and hunger. But despite the fact that she had guessed his game, she could do nothing to stop it. Quite the contrary: knowing that he was up to something made her extremely nervous as she kept on trying to predict hid next move. And why wasn't anybody looking for her? How was her baby doing? Mum would take care of him for sure, but she could be so dizzy sometimes! Had she woken in the Twilight Zone?
*** By night-time, Bulma's hunger had reached astronomical proportions. She did not eat much usually - there had been hours and hours spent in her lab without a bite. But now, since she was being denied, she wanted it more than anything and, the harder she tried not to think about it, the worse the hunger became.
Upon hearing the soft padding down the hallway and towards her room, Bulma quickly untangled herself from the bed sheets, grabbing a lamp which had been laying peacefully on the nightstand, hid behind the door and prepared to strike. The room was now quietly bathed in a dim light from one lamp left on.
It was a hastily made-up plan that she herself trusted little, but in her current state she couldn't come up with anything better.
Vegeta stepped into room, sweat dripping off him in small rivulets.
Raising the lamp into the air, she struck with all her might, trying to sneak past him and out the door. One arm latched itself around her waist, pulling her back into the room with careless force, hence making her land on her butt.
Bulma winced as she saw the door sliding shut, trapping her with Vegeta in the room. She gasped as she realised how angry he was. His onyx eyes were practically burning holes through him.
'Oh my God, he's really gonna kill me this time!" she thought desperately as she started crawling away from him. Trunks came into her mind. He had no father and now, because of her temper, would loose his mother too. She had never seen Vegeta looking so pissed outside a battle.
She retreated more as Vegeta advanced, so in the end, she trapped herself in a corner, her back pressed tightly into the wall. Summoning up her powers she stood tall, facing the Saiyan. His silence was the scariest thing about him right now, besides his burning eyes, glistening in the mild darkness.
"Ve..Vegeta." she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
Silence.
'How, how can I stop him? I don't want to die, I'm still young! There could be one thing, but how would he react? God, I'm gonna be blasted away!'
Shaking like a leaf, Bulma lifted her arms and slowly started unbuttoning her shirt. She could feel Vegeta's gaze upon her slowly exposed flesh.
After all the buttons were undone, she made no move, staring at her feet.
"Take it off." he whispered huskily.
Bulma shuddered, but made no move to take the shirt off.
His hands came up on either sides of her body, caressing her arms, gripping her shoulders and pulling her slowly towards him. Then he grabbed the sides of the shirt, pulling it down slowly, leaving Bulma clad only in her pyjama pants.
The air seemed to have grown thick in the room for she had problems breathing regularly. A sort of strange sexual languor had been engulfing them, sending shivers through her body.
Vegeta's hands then travelled south, slipping under the waistband of her pants, grabbing it tightly.
Meanwhile, Bulma looked up to him through glazed eyes, her mind barely registrating the strange look on Vegeta's face. For he looked strange, as he stood there doing nothing more than watching her with some sort of bizarre curiosity, his hands feeling hot on her skin. Her nose picked up the smell of him, a strange kind of smell, deep and enticing. He smelled like nobody else, deep forest with a touch of spice, mixed along with something else she did not recognise.
Part of her wanted to run away and hide in a far-away place, while the other part wanted desperately to kiss him. Licking her lips nervously, she lifted herself slightly on her toes and started to get closer to him.
"Ah!" she cried out startled, feeling her pants being ripped away, the sound of tearing clothes bringing her back to reality.
Vegeta seemed to come out of a daze also as he closed his eyes and took a long breath, closing his eyes. When he re-opened them he had become the same as usual, cold, calm and calculated.
Bulma gulped nervously as the magic between them was broken, then lifted up her arms to protect her bare chest and watched as Vegeta stepped aside.
An orange came rolling down to her feet and she lifted it up and started de- coiling it and eating it hungrily. She could do so, as Vegeta seemed to be oblivious to her presence. He formed a little ki-ball and turned her clothes into ashes, then dropped himself on the bed, his back to Bulma and started puling off his boots. He carelessly strolled past Bulma on his way to the bathroom and soon the water from the shower could be heard.
As he was showering, Bulma improvised herself a dress form a bed sheet and prepared herself for the worse. She just couldn't believe herself! She almost kissed him out of her own will! Hello! This is the guy that put you in a hospital, remember?
The worst came up ten minutes later in the form of a bare naked Vegeta who once again passed by her without even acknowledging her presence and climbed into bed, turning off the little lamp, hence leaving a pitch-black darkness in the room.
"Well", he finally spoke, "aren't you coming to bed?"
The same problem had been going through Bulma's mind as well. As things stood at that point, she had two possibilities: to sleep in a chair or in bed with Vegeta.
The chair it will be! She decided, wrapping the sheet tighter against her body. Outside the wind was blowing furiously, blasting the dead leaves into the dark sky.
She winced as she hit something through the darkness. She really had a hard time finding a chair in the dark. Finally, after much fussing, Bulma managed to put aside the slight hunger she still had and the chills given by the cold of the room, and fell asleep.