I don't own DBZ or anything to do with it, so bugger off !

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Vegeta stared at her, dumbfounded. He sat there as she smirked, turned and then proceeded to walk out the bathroom door.

Taking full advantage of his stunned silence, Bulma made her escape. Her cocky demeanor belied her fear. She had just mouthed-off to possibly one of the most dangerous men she had ever met, and the fact that he was wheelchair bound did nothing to quell her nervousness.

Her step quickened as she heard the bathroom door slam shut behind her, the force vibrating through the floor beneath her feet. She just had to reach her bedroom and she would be safe.

"VvvvvVvvvvVvvvvVvvvv!!!"

Her heart pounded as the thrumming sound of Vegeta's wheels came closer and closer and closer.

"VvvvvVvvvvVvvvvVvvvv"

Only two more doors to go! Sweat began to bead on her forehead as she broke into a full out sprint. To hell with propriety and composure, there was a madman speeding towards her!

"VVVVVVVV-----SCREECH"

The squeal of Vegeta's tires coming to an abrupt halt was piercing.

"Bitch." His low growl sent a chill racing up Bulma's spine.

She slammed the door shut, but in the brief second that she glimpsed his face, it was enough to send her scampering across her room, grab a large armchair from the hearth and push it linebacker-style against the door, effectively barring the entrance from any outside intruders.

What she didn't know, was that the door she assumed concealed a spacious walk-in closet, actually revealed the passageway between Vegeta's room and her own.

Exhausted, Bulma slumped onto her bed, not even bothering to change into her chemise. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day... She closed her eyes tight, trying to force out the image of his face that seemed burned into her mind. For an anal-retentive egomaniac, he's really cute... Groaning, she crawled under her covers. She couldn't afford to grow attached to a client, especially one as rude and dangerous as Vegeta.

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Bulma reached over and hit the snooze button on the beeping alarm clock next to her bed. First she would get some breakfast and then it would be time to face Vegeta. Her cheeks burned at the thought.

She couldn't stand his superior attitude or his rudeness, but despite that she was still strongly attracted to him. Running a comb through her tangled hair, she pulled on a pair of red exercise pants with racing strips on the sides and a cropped white 'beater.'

Even though she had spent more money than most people make in a lifetime on new clothes, she was still partial to that particular outfit. It was her comfort outfit, and if at any time she needed some comfort, it was now.

"BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP---" She had forgotten that the snooze was on, and walking over to the night stand, she turned the alarm off. Turning to walk out the door, she stubbed her toe on what appeared to be a loose floorboard.

"DAMNITALL!" She toppled onto the bed holding her wounded appendage. "So bloody filthy rich and they can't even afford to fix a fucking floor board?!"

Wincing, she put on her socks and shoes, heading out to the bathroom, limping slightly as her toe throbbed painfully. (She had a perfectly fine bathroom inside of her bedroom, but for some reason she preferred the one she had bathed in the night before) Once finished, she walked down the staircase and toward the kitchen.

Bulma swung the kitchen door open, and made her way inside. Dawn was rising and the room was coated in a pink/orange glow.

"May I help you?" A voice broke her reverie. She turned to her left, facing the disdainful man from yesterday's shoe encounter. From his tone, she gathered that he really didn't care if she needed help or not.

Deciding to try and kill with kindness, Bulma smiled at him. "I was just looking for breakfast."

He arched an eyebrow. "The pantry is over there," he gestured to a door with a gloved hand.

Fuck kindness, Bulma rolled her eyes at him. "Do you have a name, or should I just call you Lurch?" She opened the door and rummaged around for something that wouldn't take long to prepare or eat.

"My name is Smithers, Miss Briefs." Smithers sounded irritated, but quickly regained his composure and left the room.

"What a fruitcake." Bulma finally settled on some bread and an orange. She would deal with 'Smithers' later, there was no way she was going to put up with this every morning.

Closing the door, she looked around for somewhere to sit. Not seeing any chairs in the room, she made her way to the back door, to sit outside.

"Nice gimp, bitch."

Her hand froze on the handle. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she turned around and faced Vegeta, ignoring the gimp comment. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you any time soon." She arched an eyebrow.

"On the contrary, woman. I want to see why my father hired you. What makes you special that they think you can 'fix' me." He spat out the words, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Glowering, he met her stare. "You won't succeed. There is nothing you can do that I can't or haven't already done."

Bulma closed the distance between them, her conceit over her skills taking charge. "Try me."

Vegeta's eyes lowered to her mouth. Bulma's heart skipped a beat.

"I would never sink so low as to try someone like you." His eyes didn't waver from her lips. "But your skills, rather the lack of, I will try." And with that, he was gone.

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I know, I know, there wasn't much action in this one, but the next chapter will have: "peeping toms," wet tee's, and the sparks are going to start flying between our two favorite characters. Read and review!