Bulma laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She left her balcony doors wide open, hoping some warm summer air would help clear her thoughts. The night breeze gently caressed her curtains, sending them billowing through her room.

She was already having a hard time sleeping. Then her quick, after midnight snack was interrupted by none other than the Prince of All Assholes. If she still wanted to call him that.

She meant what she had said to him. She knew he was a bad person. Or at least that he had been. He killed people, whether it was for fun or under orders, he still did it. She had been absolutely terrified of him while they were on Namek. His past entailed more brutality than she was sure she could imagine.

And yet…

Something had changed between Namek and now. She wasn't sure if it had something to do with him dying, or the fact that Frieza was defeated and he had a new chance at life. But when he returned to Earth, things were different. He wanted to train, to best Goku, to defeat the Androids- simultaneously defending the Earth.

It boggled her mind.

She was able to tease him, to verbally spar with him, without him just brutally murdering her and everyone nearby. So was he really…still bad?

Sure, he irritated her to no end. But she was beginning to get the feeling that even that was just schoolyard teasing. When he took her ice cream out of the freezer, she was downright pissed. But he was obviously just messing with her. He smirked his little asshole smirk, he laughed and kept it out of her grasp, then he returned it. No harm done.

He even thanked her for the crappy frozen meal.

This, along with the neck massage incident…

She shuddered to herself. That was really seared into her mind. And tonight, he was wearing tight little exercise shorts and nothing else, showing off his absolutely phenomenal physique…

Bulma groaned, rolling over and shoving her face into her pillow. She had a boyfriend, for gods' sake! She couldn't be thinking about her alien house guest like this.

She couldn't think about his dark, shining, intelligent eyes. Looking at her like he was a predator, and she was his prey. She couldn't think about his sexy, muscled upper body. The way his strange, saiyan hair defied gravity and floated upward like a dark flame. She refused to think of that deadly smirk, the one that made her heart jump. The way his fingers felt touching her neck…strong, soft, powerful…

She could feel herself getting wet.

She screamed into her pillow.

—

"Bulma, sweetie, Yamcha's on the phone!" her mother called to her, her sugary sweet voice carrying from the kitchen.

Bulma dashed from where she was lounging in the living room to meet her mother at the stove. She had been flipping through Tech Genius Monthly, hoping for some inspiration, but alas, nothing yet. She was exhausted from the little sleep she got the night before. Between Vegeta and plain old insomnia, she had a rough night.

She took the receiver and walked back towards the living room. "Hey champ! How goes it? Training hard?"

"Yeah, been working hard, haha," he told her with a dry chuckle. "Listen, I may have misplaced my wallet…"

"Oh shit! Really?"

"Yeah. I may have left it at your place, do you mind if I swing by later and look around?"

Bulma smiled. Any excuse to see her, right? "Hey, I'll do you one better! How about I look around for your wallet, and take you out for dinner either way?"

"Uh, don't really have to worry about that, B, it's fine!" he sounded flustered. "I don't wanna take you away from your work-"

"Oh stop, you know I've been dying for a break! I'll get a head start, come on over whenever!"

"O-okay! I'll try to come by as soon as I can," Yamcha said.

"Love you!"

"Love you, too, B."

She clicked the phone off, walking back to the kitchen to hang it up on the wall. "Yamcha's gonna swing by, he lost his wallet!"

Panchy lifted her hand to her mouth in surprise. "Oh, the poor dear! Well, he's always welcome for dinner!"

"We'll probably go out to eat, but thanks anyway, mom!" She smiled and headed towards her room.

Walking down the hall, she saw something that she somehow didn't notice earlier: Vegeta no longer had a door. Instead, there was a sheet hanging in his door frame. How the hell did she miss that? She quirked up an eyebrow and glanced around, daring to peek her head past the sheet and into his room.

His door lay on the floor inside the room, curved inward slightly from an awful force ripping it off its hinges. It was splintered on the bottom, too.

"Sheesh, Vegeta, get a grip," she mumbled to herself, heading back to her own room.

She entered her little sanctuary. Her room hadn't been tidied up by a bot yet, since she only programmed hers to come by a couple days a week.

She walked forward, replaying the other night. They stumbled into the room together, she slammed the door…

Oh jeez. She hoped she hadn't disturbed Vegeta. It was like 3 am when they got back!

Next, she pulled his pants down…Bulma got down on her hands and knees, peering under her bed in hopes of finding the little leather wallet.

"Ah ha!" she saw a square shaped shadow under there, and reached under. There it was!

She smiled, sure it would be such a relief for Yamcha to know his identification, cards, and Zeni were all safe.

She pulled it out from under the bed, hearing a scrape of something papery there as well. Curious, she felt around, fingers touching the carpet, trying to find what made that sound.

She felt something flat and grabbed it. It felt like stiff paper. She pulled it out, standing up with the wallet in one hand and the paper in the other.

It was a white business card.

She flipped it over, wondering where it came from.

'Cheryl Blitz

Pharmaceutical Representative for West City Meds

Phone # …'

Bulma blinked slowly, her mind attempting to digest what she was reading.

This was the card that blonde women had given Yamcha before their date. She had seen him take it and put it in his pocket with his wallet.

She had thought that the woman had been the talent scout for the Taitans. That she had given him the good news in person, with her contact info.

Her heart sank. What would Yamcha need a pharmaceutical rep for?

"...not tonight, but maybe next week?"

…Did he really plan a fucking date with another woman while meeting up with her?

Bulma saw red.

How many times? How many times was she going to allow this to happen? For Yamcha to disrespect her by being unfaithful?

He was so willing to throw away the years of work they'd, well she'd, put into their relationship. He'd do anything to get his dick wet.

She grit her teeth together, calmly placing the business card inside his wallet.

How could she be so stupid to trust this man, again and again?

She went around her room, grabbing up all the random shit Yamcha had left over the years, and threw it all in a pile. Baseball equipment, old clothes, Valentine's Day cards, a framed photo of them. She snatched a capsule off her nightstand, capsulizing everything inside.

She wouldn't let herself cry, not yet.

She would mourn later. She had to take out the trash, first.

—