Vegeta seethed as he limped into his room. The woman was right, he thought as he collapsed into bed, he did need rest, and returning to his normal training levels straight away was quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever done. However, his poor judgement was not what was making him angry; nor was it that she'd interrupted his training and practically forced him to rest – an action he was actually quietly thankful for. It wasn't even the fact that she'd kissed him; no, it was the fact that he'd enjoyed it and was for that fraction of a second willing to submit to it and allow it to take them…somewhere.

He rubbed a weary hand over his face and winced as he pressed too hard on a bruised cheekbone. He was becoming rather attracted to this loud-mouthed Earthling and he didn't have a clue why. She was loud, rude, opinionated, annoying, self absorbed and spoilt; he smirked, she was almost a female version of him.

Rolling over onto his good arm, he yawned and quickly fell asleep, unaware that sleep wouldn't get him away from her.

A week later and Vegeta was sitting in the yard watching Goku run rapidly through a set of katas. Chichi had literally chained Gohan to his desk so his father couldn't distract him from his studies any longer; so Goku had come over to visit Bulma and see how Vegeta was recovering.

As for Vegeta himself, contrary to his calm exterior, he had ants in his pants. Bulma had forbidden him from doing any form of training until he was completely healed and just to be on the safe side, she'd cut the power line to the G.R.; but watching Goku incorrectly punching and kicking at nothing was driving the impatient prince crazy.

"No, Kakarrot, no, stop, stop!" Vegeta got up and walked over to Goku – who had frozen comically mid-punch – with just a hint of a limp. "Your form is all wrong." He reached out to re-position Goku's arm, "There; now try."

Goku completed the move he'd started and then straightened with a grin, "Hey thanks, Vegeta! That's much better."

The Saiyajin prince smirked and returned to his seat to continue his assessment of his nemesis. Kakarrot was insanely strong, but having never had the benefit of correct Saiyajin instruction at least a third of his power was going to waste. Old man Roshi and King Kai had done a decent job with the man, but they weren't Saiyajins. Only a Saiyajin ki master could correctly harness the ridiculous amounts of power that a full-blooded Saiyajin warrior could wield, but there hadn't been one of those since the planet Vegeta had been destroyed. After thinking for a moment, Vegeta frowned, even without 'proper' instruction this fool had managed to become a Super Saiyajin before he – who had received at least a little Saiyajin instruction – had been able to. He allowed himself a moment of grudging respect before smirking; maybe the old Saiyajin ways weren't all that great; maybe it was time to try something new. His thoughts tripped back to the previous night's rather erotic dreams and he blushed faintly; maybe he should start to reconsider his prejudice toward human females too.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice Bulma standing in front of him, trying to get his attention, "Hellooo, Earth to Vegeta." She frowned; nothing. Cautiously reaching forward – he was nearly healed, he could break her arm with a thought now – she poked him.

The musing Saiyajin jerked in surprise, looked up to see what had disturbed him and blushed violently as he realised who it was. Bulma, mistaking his pink embarrassment as fever, placed a cool palm against his forehead,

"Goodness, Vegeta, you're burning hot!"

Vegeta scowled in irritation, any lingering arousal from his flashback disappearing as quickly as his patience with this stupid human; wasn't she even aware of the effect she was starting to have on him?

"I'm fine." He swatted her hand away and stood up to tower over her.

"Okay, okay, no need to snap," she smiled up at him, "I was just going to go for a swim and wondered if you'd like to join me; it's supposed to be good for someone recovering from injuries like yours."

Vegeta was sorely tempted to take her up on her offer; his hentai mind had already pictured her in a teeny weeny bikini, but he was very aware of the fact that Goku had stopped what he was doing in order to eavesdrop on them, so instead he sneered, "Sorry, but the thought of you in a swim suit turns my stomach."

Bulma blushed in embarrassment and her eyes teared. Instantly regretting the harsh words, he could do nothing but watch as she quickly turned and walked away without a word.

"That was a bit mean, Vegeta." Kakarrot had resumed his exercises.

Flopping down into his seat and wincing at the impact on his still-bruised hip, Vegeta groused half-heartedly back, "Yeah well she deserves it."

"No she doesn't."

Vegeta stared into the distance, her hurt gaze burned into his memory. "Hn."