Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters sadly…but I do have the right to make up embarrassing and humiliating scenarios involving them! Hell yeah!

Chapter Two

The sun managed to creep its way into Bulma's bedroom that early summer morning. Light shinning through the window, via a large gap in the vertical shutters, created an almost prismatic effect, which shone on her pale bed sheets. In time, it advanced on her face, warming, and awaking her from a pleasant slumber.

She turned, an irrepressible smile formed, being only half-consciously aware of its appearance. Pulling the thin covers around her, she lay in a dreamlike stance, pondering and reliving the night before.

It was almost like a fairytale, her date with Yamcha. He had arrived, surprisingly bearing a costly bouquet of gorgeous flowers, a combination of all kinds of wildflowers. It was especially shocking seeing that she had only asked him to attend the show with her a few hours back. Nevertheless, there was still a wide array of stunning floral blossoms. Her favourite, lilac, although not included, was not forgotten. Yamcha had tried to get her the closest flower possible to it, apologizing perpetually that they were not in season. How incredibly adorable and extremely romantic that little gesture was. It made her heart sing with joy.

They continued the evening by promenading down by the river, she in her fitting red dress and matching high heels, and he wearing a dark suit, double breasted with silver buttons. They looked as if they had just walked straight out from one of those medieval balls. It certainly was strange wearing such outfits, but their clothing was required for the exclusive show they were to attend later that night. Besides, it added to the entire mood of the evening.

She and Yamcha continued their stroll along the riverbed talking avidly, when Yamcha announced that he had something he wished to show her. She agreed naturally, to follow him where he wished to take her.

Leading Bulma by the hand, he brought her to a secluded floral garden. It was breathtaking beautiful. Flowers and vegetation were planted here from all over the world, arranged very nicely, she might add. Each section of the grounds had its own theme, depending on where the plants were from. Plus, they had added common architectural structures, which related with the country the segment was based upon. It was really quite neat.

They continued down the rocky path, the sun beginning to fade as they walked, killing time before they were due at the show. Bulma had called concerning tickets yesterday afternoon, and the theatre was not about to exclude the daughter of the Capsule Corporation fortune from obtaining admission. And somehow, they got two tickets, very pricey but close to the stage at that, to a sold out performance. The influence of cash always seems to help a bit.

Holding hands, they neared the Japanese portion of the garden, and watched the first stars emerge on a small wooden bridge beneath a blooming cherry blossom. There they shared a passionate kiss, holding each other as they admired the beauty that surrounded them.

They were a perfect couple, she knew then. Well, she had figured as much before, but now she was absolutely certain. How could anything that felt so right, be wrong. Anyhow, she was glad that she took Yamcha back. She loved him, yes loved, and couldn't be happier now that they were back together.

They arrived at the theatre, late, but uncaring. She tried to sneak quietly to her seat. But, Yamcha kept pissing people off as he shuffled through the audience and intentionally kept stepping on their toes as he passed. It was incredibly embarrassing; however she couldn't keep from laughing.

Finally in their seats, the show halfway finished already, it only seemed logical that there was no sense in trying to get into the play now. Besides, Yamcha was a much better show. The elderly couple next to them didn't agree, as they turned their heads aside uncomfortably. Too bad for them, but she didn't really care, it never seemed awkward to her. At the end of the performance she bestowed upon Yamcha a rating of two-thumbs up, five stars, and ten out of ten.

Well, that was a waste of expensive theatre tickets, she thought, and bet the old couple agreed fully. What the heck, she was loaded. But theoretically they had not been a complete waste. Yamcha could verify this.

The show being done and over with meant that their date was almost completed. Still, they were together for a little longer, as they took the long way home.

Arriving on the grounds of Capsule Corp. quite a bit later, the moon was fully out and veiled the world in its pale blanket of light. She had her shoes off by then; those damned high heels had given her a nasty blister, and walked through the thick grass. It felt wonderful against her aching toes. Yamcha, advancing silently behind her, swept her off her feet quite literally. Her dress flowed around them as he circled with her in his arms. A magical ending to a most wonderful date.

Bulma sighed deeply. Yamcha and her, were, well perfect together! That's why she forgave him after all; they both knew it was true. After all, she liked Yamcha since the very beginning…

Back to reality, she threw aside the covers, deciding that it was about time for her to get out of bed. Stretching, her arms, legs, she walked to her conjoined personal bathroom. Regarding the mirror, she combed her messy and extremely thick blue hair behind her ears. Adding, after some contemplation, a navy blue headband to keep the hair out of her face. Why she had ever gotten a perm, she'll never know.

Anyhow, it was about time to base this day's outfit on her recently added accessory. Brushing her teeth, she headed towards her spacious closet.

Navy blue, hmmm… She tore through countless hanger and drawers, searching for a possibility. No, no, no, where did she get some of these clothes. They might be fashionable on mars.

Finally her blue eyes came to rest on the choice of all choices. It was perfect. In fact, it couldn't have suited her more.

It was a beautiful three-piece outfit from a privately owned boutique in town. She recalled when she had first laid eyes on it because it had called to her. No wonder. It composed of a skirt, long-sleeved shirt, and a matching vest. The skirt was the same design as the shirt, crimson red with elegant black strips. In truth, they together looked like a dress, since they went together so easily. The vest was a medium tone of orange in colour, and complemented the outfit completely. Bulma, after a quick search, discovered shoes in the same colour as the vest. Perfect! This day was already turning out beautifully.

Well, even if it had started out terribly, this day would have still been wonderful. Today was it for Vegeta, adios to him, and tomorrow he would be gone, free of destroying her life. So what if she felt terrible about the whole ordeal, it was not like he didn't deserve it.

She had planned out everything last night before she left, it was cruel, but it should be extremely effective. Operation Monkey Out Of House (MOOH for short) would be set in motion any time now. Actually, she was surprised it hadn't yet.

As if on cue, the clash of breaking dishes could be heard from downstairs. This time though, it brought a smile to her face. She didn't care what dishes he broke in his rage, it would be worth it to see his priceless expression.

"GODAMMIT WOMAN! WHERE THE HELL IS ALL THE FOOD?" Vegeta bellowed from the kitchen. More dishes crashed vigorously against the tiled floor.

Yes! She gave her reflection in the mirror a high-five. MOOH was already starting to affect him, but seriously, why wouldn't it? Bulma knew that without food, no Saiyan could function, and Vegeta wasn't any different. It was mean, but hell, she wouldn't let him starve. She just wanted to push him off the edge, like he had done to her countless times.

Bulma laughed out loud. What an excellent day this was already, although she knew tomorrow would be much better, for there would be no mess to clean up after.

She soon decided to head downstairs, after she was dressed, make-up had been applied, and a forced innocent smile was upon her face. He couldn't suspect her, or he wouldn't leave, she knew that much about him. His pride would never allow a woman to kick him out. Vegeta would just have to believe that this place was terrible to live. Then her plan would be a total success. She chose to go over the first stage of her plan mentally.

Operation Monkey Out Of House (MOOH)

Phase One:

Remove all edible items from the Capsule Corporation area.

Get parents to go out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, her treat. Send them to a show. Tell them that she would replace the missing food later, if they asked.

3) Vegeta, having no apparent money of his own, will be hungry and pissed.

4) Offer to cook him something… special!

Bulma gravitated to the kitchen, where Vegeta was clawing through the many cupboards like a hungry animal. He had to stand on the counter because of his height, or maybe it was just that he liked being taller…for once. Turning to her, eyes like a starving cat, he shouted vociferously.

"WHERE THE HELL IS ALL THE FOOD?"

Bulma suppressed a laugh. Any hungry Saiyan would behave this way, even Goku. Maybe food was the secret of their success? They ate enough to support an army for a lifetime. No wait, that wasn't even close. Throw in the navy as well as the air force and that sounded correct.

Bulma figured that they must need all that energy because they wasted so much, especially in Vegeta's case, big mouth and all. Well in any case, Vegeta expected an answer, and he looked very …wild.

"I should be asking you that question! I'm not the one who ate it all!" She said in a very matter-of-factly tone of voice.

"YOU'RE BLAMING ME!" He snarled.

"YEAH, SO WHAT IF I AM!" She replied loudly.

Vegeta looked ready to shoot her with a ki blast.

"I'M HUNGRY, AND I NEED SOMETHING TO EAT! I AM A PRINCE FOR GOD'S

SAKE!"

Always with that same old pathetic excuse, she thought. If only she were only a princess, then they'd be on level ground. Even better if she was a queen, then she could outrank him, plus make the rules to boot. Sigh, too bad for him that it didn't take a queen's influence to bring him down.

"You couldn't have eaten it all." She said calmly.

Bulma opened the fridge door, the cool air felt nice on her face and pretended to search around, shoving around the little food left.

"What are you talking about anyways, Vegeta? There is tons of food left..."

Vegeta shrugged his shoulders. "Impossible, I just checked. Let me see."

She moved aside as he came barrelling towards the refrigerator. Sticking his entire face into it, he began pushing things around, just as he did in real life.

"You're crazy; there is nothing here except for spinach, broccoli, and other disgusting crap… I mean vegetables. In fact, that seems to be the only thing in here!"

Bulma's twisted smile could not be contained, "Well, spinach and broccoli are fit for human consumption, so I'll cook you up some, but you'll owe me."

Vegeta appeared prepared to vomit. In fact, his face had a slightly greenish tint to it. The precise colour as the broccoli actually!

"But, I hate spinach… and broccoli… and most vegetables… because they're so utterly vulgar."

Hmmm... How did she know that he just adored green vegetables? Well, it could be that he ate almost everything else in the kitchen, except for them. That gave it away fully. Actually, she swore that he'd rather consume the cutlery before he devoured his green favourites.

"Food is food Vegeta, and legumes are included in the deal. " She raised her hand and shook her index finger at him.

"If you're that hungry, you'll eat what I cook."

Vegeta's growling stomach provided the answer she was looking for.

"Fine, then," she said.

Gathering together the dishes necessary, including a pan Vegeta had carelessly thrown on the floor, she began to cook a meal he would never forget. Taking the vegetables from the fridge and washing them in warm water, she started chopping when they dried.

There was only an assortment of vegetables in the fridge, nothing else due to her ingenuity. The rest of the food had been relocated until this ordeal was over. Thank goodness that her parents had agreed to go out for breakfast this morning, or they would've gone straight out to restock the cupboards to Vegeta's benefit.

She fried the vegetables in the pan like a stir-fry, except it was deprived of meat, Vegeta's preferred food group. She added a garlic sauce, well past the best before date, and continued to fry. It smelt, well, horrible, and the entire dish was a very unappealing green. It also didn't help that the spinach started to burn. She was one hell of a cook!

Vegeta sat impatiently at the black ebony dining room table, a look of disgust plastered on his face. He was actually scared to taste the concoction the blue-haired witch was putting together for him in the kitchen. It stunk so badly, what the hell was she burning now, he thought?

"Here you go Vegeta, there's more if you want." Bulma said cheerfully, as she placed a plate of the pile of burnt, mushy, green vegetables in front of him.

He looked warily at the dish, then at her, as if he were hoping that a slab of beef would magically appear in its place. Taking his fork, he prodded at the mess, unable to properly grab a hold of a soggy piece of celery. Throwing his fork aside, against Bulma's objections, he grabbed a spoon. Once in possession of the steaming mixture, he raised it panicky to his closed mouth.

Bulma held her breath; it was just like watching a suspenseful Hollywood movie or a circus act. Will he eat it ladies and gentlemen? Oh, this was too good to be true; she knew he had a weak point involving food. Apparently vegetables seemed to be his.

Both eyes focused on the spoon, Vegeta proceeded to place the contents spoon in his now opened mouth onto his tongue. Contact! His face instantly turned a chalky white. He held it in his puckered mouth, eyes watering. Oh yeah, she added some rotting onions for flavour. Did she put too much in?

"Vegeta, don't be a baby! Just eat it!"

He did a sort of half-nod. The last thing that he wanted was to be called was a baby. Mustering all his will power, he swallowed. His face went from chalky-white to a nice sea-green colour.

"See that wasn't so bad. Geez, you over-exaggerate everything." Bulma stated, killing herself laughing on the inside. She shook in the process of trying to suppress a giggle, not knowing how long she could hold on.

He nodded silently again, and went for another spoonful apprehensively. He struggled more with the dish then he did his training, or so it seemed to Bulma. She wondered how much more of it he could take.

Vegeta bolted like lightning to the upstairs bathroom when his plate was emptied. There was still more on his dish, but she wasn't picky. Vegeta had lasted longer then she thought he would.

She cleared her plate, which she never touched, into the garbage bin. When she returned to the kitchen, she noticed Vegeta trudging down the stairs, muttering to himself.

"Trying to poison me… vile… putrid…"

She suppressed a laugh, and this was only phase one. Wait until he noticed phase two!

Phase Two:

Gather together all the red and pink clothes available in her closet.

Search mom's room for possible pink clothing items.

Enter Vegeta's room during training hours and take all of his regular clothing.

Mix in a washing machine for an hour using scalding hot water for devious results.

Act like it was an accident.

She wondered how much Vegeta liked pink? She saw him wearing a pink shirt recently, but he never wore it more then once. Maybe he only decided to put it on because it was the only article of clothing he had. All the shirts and pants he wore around here were bought by her, or were previously her father's. Also, she had made him some training clothes. Nevertheless, she didn't think he'd be too thrilled about looking like a walking stick of gum. Time to set phase two into motion, she thought happily.

Heading to the basement, she emerged with a basket of entirely pink shirts, pants, and shorts she had washed yesterday. Too bad a lot of Vegeta's clothing had been black, but there were more light colours to dye though, so she couldn't complain. Still, Vegeta, being the prideful creature he is, shouldn't be too cheerful about this particular load of laundry. Even if it didn't bother him, there was still more to the plan then this.

"Oh dear," she cried, when she was near Vegeta's vicinity. She pretended to look into the basket in shock.

That got the monkey's attention. "What?" He snapped.

She tucked the basket behind her and smiled naively. She should be an actress! Bulma Briefs in Hollywood hmmm? Not a bad idea.

"Oh nothing", she replied, moving cautiously towards the door.

"ARE THOSE MY CLOTHES IN THERE?" He roared.

"Maybe", she said timidly, and took off. Word of advice, don't try to outrun a Saiyan. Vegeta had caught up to her almost immediately, snatching the basket of laundry from her hands.

Walking over to a nearby chair he began rummaging through the very pink clothes, searching for what was his. In shock he turned to her a yelled.

"Don't tell me that you don't even know how to do laundry? What kind of woman are you?"

One of a kind, she thought.

"Well… you can wash your own clothes from now on buster, because I quit!"

That shut him up. Turning to the laundry in disgust, he held up his now pink shirt.

He stated quietly. "But why pink, of all possible colours? Why did they have to turn pink?"

He hated to admit it but Vegeta looked really depressed. She hated to do it really, but it had to be done. She needed to see the plan through to the end. Yet, he looked so sad…

Gathering his pink clothing together, he shoved them back very messily into the basket. Then muttered something which really sounded like, "Now I half to stay in these clothes", and walked off swearing non-stop (words that cannot be printed in a PG-13 fic IceLyon).

Feeling a little downhearted, she sulked her way into the kitchen. Sitting with a glass of water, she sighed, lost in her own thoughts. A loud tapping came from the window and she jumped. Yamcha was knocking from the outside, wearing a traditional orange gi and a smile on his face. Puar, his talking cat-thingy friend, was with him, waving. Oh, she had almost forgotten phase three.

Phase Three:

The only thing Vegeta despises more then bad food is Yamcha.

Allow Yamcha to use the grounds in order to train for the Androids.

Vegeta and Yamcha were bound to meet eventually ().

She walked over and opened the kitchen door for Yamcha, kissing him as he strode in. He didn't seem very enthusiastic when he returned her kiss, but he was smiling.

"Thanks for letting me use the grounds; it's a great place to train."

"No problem at all," she responded. "It's for the earth's sake anyway."

Yamcha stood up straighter. "That's true."

She hated incorporating Yamcha into the plan, but if anybody could piss Vegeta off it was him. Besides, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"So, is Vegeta still here?" He asked in an irritated tone of voice as he peered around. Yamcha didn't approve of Vegeta, and Vegeta didn't approve of Yamcha. It was a vicious cycle. She placed her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, so what?"

"I've never trusted him." He stated. "He tried to destroy the world, he killed me."

"He's changed Yamcha. Vegeta is one of the good guys now." Why was she sticking up for Vegeta?

Yamcha regarded her differently then before.

"It doesn't mean I trust the guy. Once evil, always evil…"

"Trust is out of the question, I just was stating that he has switched sides. We need him for the fight with the Androids."

"Since when did you start defending Vegeta, Bulma?" Yamcha said glumly.

Shocked, she told him, "I am not sticking up for him, Yamcha. I'm just stating the obvious. We need Vegeta on our side if we want to win this battle against the machines."

Yamcha could become very annoying after a while. She was only speaking the truth, and yet he always thought she was wrong. Who was the mechanical genius here, Yamcha or her?

"Still, he could turn on us…"

"Yeah. That's always been a possibility, but he's proven that he's on our side. For the time being at least."

"So you truly think he could help us win against the Androids?"

"Yeah, Vegeta is an accomplished fighter. He could very well be the one to lead us to victory."

What the hell was he getting at? She hated Vegeta's guts, but she couldn't ignore the fact that he was a Saiyan (a very self-centred alien at that) and a valuable asset to the team.

He frowned. "Lost all faith in Goku now haven't you."

Now that was unexpected! How dare Yamcha even question that she'd lost faith in her trusted friend! He was assuming things for her again! She regarded him fiercely.

"Yamcha, now that's crossing the line. My faith remains with Goku, not Vegeta."

"So, you still want him to leave?"

"Yes." She answered back crossly.

"Good."

Bulma resumed her seat at the table and finished her glass of water. She did not make eye contact with her boyfriend.

"You're welcome to any training equipment you wish. It's all in the shed." She tossed him a small silver key from her side pocket.

"Thanks. Come on Puar." Relieved, he turned to leave. Puar glared at her, and she hissed back. It wasn't like he was intimidating or anything.

Well, that conversation wasn't the most romantic, but it was memorable indeed. Yamcha was in a very weird mood…

She continued to stare into the distance. Was Yamcha jealous of Vegeta, or was it more than that? What did he have to be jealous of? She didn't like Vegeta, so it didn't make sense. What could've caused his strange mood?

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and Vegeta waltzed through, heading to Capsule Three for his morning training. He was wearing a pink shirt. Opening the kitchen door he silently slid outside.

Yamcha emerged from the shed, training equipment dangling from his arms. Puar held something small as well.

Dropping the supplies, he wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm. It was already proving to be a hot day, hurray, just what he needed. Puar looked up at him questioningly, and started speaking.

"I never liked Bulma…"

"I know, but I do."

"Sure you do." Puar said mockingly.

"Hey!" He stopped talking when Vegeta approached, still oblivious that Yamcha was near. Great, now Vegeta was coming, he thought.

Vegeta walked silently, victim to his own thoughts. When he finally noticed Yamcha, he scowled. It was that nobody, why was he even here?

"Like the shirt." Yamcha said in a very sarcastic voice.

Vegeta grumbled. "Didn't I kill you?"

"Yeah." He said apprehensively. "But I was brought back to life due to the Dragon Balls, no thanks to you."

Vegeta smirked. "Could've sworn you were still dead, but then again, you were never much of a fighter. What a waste of a wish."

Yamcha bared his teeth. "How dare you," he said in a very heavy surfer's accent.

"How dare I? How dare you use my training equipment, you nobody? It's not like it is helping." Vegeta gestured to the pile of training supplies, which Puar stood cautiously near.

"You'll see it will." Yamcha said triumphantly. "I can help save the earth as much as you, maybe more."

Vegeta continued walking, back turned to Yamcha.

"I wouldn't bet on it." He scoffed.

"Jerk."

Fist clenched, Yamcha twisted back around to his training equipment. Puar stood staring avidly.

"You'll show him, right Yamcha?" Puar said encouragingly in a very high-pitched squeaky voice.

"Yeah, I'll show him. Whatever training he's doing in that capsule can't be too tough. I bet he's just sitting in there, sipping on an iced tea."

"That's the spirit!" He said as he bounced around. "Now let's start training!"

Yamcha nodded his head, pushing his black hair off of his tanned face.

"Alright, lets."

Wow, real sorry for the slow update. This chapter turned out much longer then expected, but there was so much to say. I don't want this to be another lovey-dovey sappy fic, but one more close to the truth (if the episodes had been more in-depth). Still, I'll follow the episodes closely, to make sure that everything fits. Plus I couldn't ignore the fact that Bulma has feelings for Yamcha, I know you BV fans hate it, but you know how it turns out!

Well, it's time again to start a new chapter. Stick around for Chapter-Three.

IceLyon