Chapter 2 -revised

Not long after Bulma had made quick work of the updates, smiling internally at her genius. She wiped the sweat from above her eyes and tucked her screwdriver back into her belt. Then she gripped the edges of the console, sliding herself out from under it.

She wiped her hands on her shorts and glanced around before pulling out a small notepad from her pocket. She marveled as she scribbled down the numbers. This was the fourth time that month that Bulma had had to adjust the gravity room due to a surge in Vegeta's power, and it didn't look like it'd be the last.

Bulma had been taking silent note of these power increases, but she couldn't ignore the fact that with his swell in power his behavior had become progressively more erratic.

He had never been a kitten, that was for sure, but she had grown used to the banter. In fact, she typically enjoyed it until Vegeta would say something hurtful and she'd want to poke his eyes out. But lately it seemed that the absence of a kingdom was bringing out the spoiled prince within.

She stood slowly, wiping off her wrench with a dish towel. She glanced around the empty gravity room, fighting a small grin that tugged the edges of her lips when she spotted the broken servo bots strewn around.

Though she'd never admit it, Bulma had originally found the prince intriguing. When she had asked him to come and stay at capsule corp., a small part of her had wondered if something might happen between the two of them. He was so strong…and although she was fascinated by mechanics and science, she couldn't resist the thrall of a man who could move mountains with his strength.

She'd made the odd advance, often hitting on him when Yamcha was being less than faithful. She would don her cutest outfit and lounge in the yard, hoping to catch his eye as he made his way from the kitchen to the gravity room and back, his typical route. He'd glare at her watchfully, his body tensed like a snake in the grass, but she saw the seconds of fire that rounded his eyes. He'd allow it to linger for a moment before shoving her rudely out of his path or making some offhanded comment about the "whores of Earth".

He was an arrogant bastard, but she couldn't ignore the bulging muscles, the chiseled features, or the large hands…

At first he had ignored her completely, which frankly pissed Bulma off. She was beautiful, smart, rich, and unused to being ignored by handsome men. It wasn't until he saw her coming and going through the large locked door behind the kitchen that he began to take notice.

The lab was kept on lockdown at all times, available only through a special key card that was given to Bulma, her father, and select Capsule Corp employees. It was usually bustling during the day, but late at night it would often find a lone Bulma, toiling into the wee hours.

It had been on such a night that the saiyan prince began to take notice of the little scientist. She'd been working hard on her favorite project, muttering and cursing under her breath as the thing refused to work properly. A cursory glance at the clock on the wall and a low groan from her belly had told her that 2am was break time.

She had sighed impatiently, taking her goggles off from around her blue ponytail, and wrapped the lab coat around her against the early morning chill.

Her breathing had quickened once she reached the top of the tall staircase leading back to the house, though not from exertion. She had stopped, a hand on her heart as she perked her ears to listen, her body suddenly on warning, she shook her head with the logic of a scientist and pushed the door open, screaming as Vegeta's massive chest flooded her view.

What happened next always sent a shudder through her as she remembered it, for it had been the night she almost died.

She had squealed in fright to see the prince on the other side of the door, her heart in her throat she lost grip of banister, gasping as the air left her lungs in fear. Her feet came out from under her and she flew back, her eyes wide as she tried to call out for help but lost the breath; she stiffened and prepared for the pain of falling two stories down the narrow steps to the concrete floor.

But the fall never happened. She had peeked an eye open to find herself just above the stairs, hovering there, a strong arm tucked under her legs as another wrapped around her back and waist. She glanced up with wide eyes to see the prince looking down at her in his arms, his features twisted into an annoyed rage.

"Stupid woman, you could've been killed!" he growled, flying to the door and tossing her roughly to the living room carpet.

She landed with a yelp, and tossed her bangs out of her hair angrily, only to find that he had disappeared before she could retort. Then she'd raced to her room where she spent the rest of the evening trying to control her trembling form.

She breathed deeply at the memory and tucked the wrench away. Her face was smudged with oil and her shorts, the incredibly short ones she'd worn when she got the readouts from the GR, the ones that had proved ineffective on the moody prince, were now stained. The morning had not gone as planned and she was eager to shower and get on with her day.

She wiped her hands on her shorts and left the GR, thinking about the after-shower possibilities; manicure, pedicure, shopping.

Not that she was all play, mind you. She did intend to head to the lab and begin work on her favorite invention, but she was still Bulma Briefs, and she had to look her best.

She hummed lightly as she crossed the lawn, the audible moans of her stomach convincing her to grab some breakfast before she showered. She groaned audibly, hoping that Vegeta had come and gone by then.

The sunshine was warming her skin and improving her mood slightly so she crossed her fingers and skipped up the stairs. She opened the large door leading into the kitchen and froze.

"Oh God…" Bulma grimaced at the sight of Vegeta at the other end of the table. He lowered his fork and simultaneously raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" he said, with a hint of a smirk.

Bulma sighed and headed to the fridge.

"I wasn't talking about you, vegetable-head. I've had about enough of you for one day…" she reached into the fridge, her hand closing around a bottle of milk. "You know I'm getting sick of this whole "obey me or die" attitude." She slammed the door and began shaking the milk, her back to the moody houseguest.

She ignored the silence that followed, praying against her better instincts that he'd been wounded by her words and had stormed off. Opening the cupboard, she reached for a glass, then released it suddenly when she felt two warm hands on her waist, the glass tipping to the side and landing with a clunk. She was spun around abruptly and pressed against the fridge.

Vegeta's glared into her face, his eyes devoid of the sarcastic humor.

"You know, there are times when I think you may be some kind of masochist, Woman..." His grip on her waist tightened.

She rolled her eyes and reached for his hands.

"Oh fuck off, Vegeta, I don't have time-"

He slammed her against the fridge, her head smacking against the freezer audibly, sending her equilibrium spinning.

While she tried to refocus her vision Vegeta grabbed her face in one hand, the other pressed against her wrist, holding it above her head.

"You impudent bitch! Do you realize who you are speaking to? With all of your intelligence you continue to bait the killer living in your HOME?!"

She whimpered against his hand as he tightened the grip on her jaw.

She blinked through the moisture in her eyes, her gaze unwavering from his as a flame of fury began to dance in her belly, she narrowed her gaze.

"G…Goku would kill you…" she managed.

Vegeta released his hold on her face, pressing his body into hers he stared into her eyes, expressionless. Then he chuckled quietly, his hand moving to stroke her cheek lightly.

"Goku..." he chuckled again, his eyes narrowing. "…you stupid woman."

He reached for a tendril of hair that had fallen from her ponytail, moving it out of her eyes with a surprising amount of gentleness, then taking the other wrist and holding it with the first, pinning her with his massive body. He growled into her wide blue eyes.

"I will surpass that fool. I know you've seen the increases in my power, the height that my strength is taking me; you'd be dim not to have seen. I will surpass him and you will have no one to run to." He ran his hand lightly down her side and back to her hip, watching her thoughtfully.

"Vegeta…let go of me right now." Bulma glared into his eyes, her voice at a hoarse whisper.

His smirk disappeared and, surprisingly, he slowly backed away, releasing her.

"You will learn some respect, woman; even if I have to beat it into you."

Then he turned and left the kitchen, slamming the door as he went.

She jumped at the sound and reached a hand to her face, rubbing her jaw softly. Turning to lean on the counter, she reached around to feel the back of her head. It throbbed slightly but there didn't seem to be any lumps.

"Dammit…" she muttered, turning to the cupboards. Deciding she wasn't as hungry anymore, she stomped to the stairway, anger beginning to replace the fear.

She wouldn't let him get to her. Power or not she knew that if it came down to it, Goku would protect her.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After her shower Bulma headed eagerly to her lab and became immersed in her work. The lab was quiet, save for the tinny music coming out of the small radio next to her. She sighed at the formulas in front of her. She had been putting all her effort into one project this past month: the dragon ball radar.

The dragon ball radar was her project. She had many projects utilized in the capsule corporation, but the radar was truly hers. Very few knew about it and no one was allowed to touch it except for her. It was kept under lock and key in the lab to ensure it never fell into the wrong hands.

She shuddered slightly as her thoughts drifted to Vegeta; his cold hand around her neck…his dark eyes, so full of hate for her and her race. She closed her eyes against the thoughts of what Vegeta might do with her invention, had he known it still existed.

The story that went around the corporation was that the radar was destroyed. It was too dangerous, they would say, so Dr. Briefs had made sure that it would never get into the wrong hands. And that was initially the plan, but Bulma's curiosity, her love of science, and her desire to know how everything worked and why was what kept the radar from destruction. Her father had handed it over to her with the condition that no one knows it exists, and that it never leaves the lab.

So here she was, a pair of microscope goggles pulled tightly around her head, the faintest hint of a smile tugging on her lips. She never felt more alive than when she was onto something. The radar had been malfunctioning for quite some time but it seemed that she was beginning to figure it out.

There was just one problem: Bulma really had to pee.

She had been sitting for hours, sipping water between scribbling, and now she seemed to be unconsciously bouncing around in her chair.

"Crap…" She muttered, never happy to be taken away from a brainstorm.

She stood and stretched like a cat, groaning. Then she reluctantly slid the goggles off of her face and headed up the stairs, glancing back once at her invention.

A few rooms over, Vegeta was angrily stalking from room to room, tearing doors open in his search.

"Woman!" He bellowed.

The machine had overheated and Vegeta was not one to take breaks. He had already been resting for too long and he was eager to get his machine running smoothly again. He scoured the bottom floor but felt no sign of her.

He groaned inwardly when he realized where Bulma must be, and while he had no fear of the tiny woman, he was also in no mood for the fight that would ensue once he disturbed her from her work.

He stormed to the kitchen, smirking as he noticed the large door behind it was left ajar, he pushed open the door and made his way down the stairs, scanning for her ki. He reached the bottom and frowned. He couldn't sense her anywhere.

Crossing his arms, his eyes fell on a desk with the name plate "Bulma Briefs", and while he was not interested in any of her inventions, he couldn't avoid staring, slack jawed at what he saw.

It was the radar. The one that the Briefs family had sworn was destroyed.

He took a few steps toward, his body on alert in case the woman was coming back. The radar lay unprotected on her desk among piles of papers with numbers he didn't care to understand. He picked it up gingerly and pressed a button on the front, his eyes widening in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

He hmphed and shook it a few times before dropping it on the desk angrily. Apparently everything in this compound was currently broken.

He spun around and was face to face with an infuriated Bulma.

"Vegeta…just what the HELL do you think you're doing in my lab!?" Her fists were clenched, small teeth bared.

"I go where I please, woman." He said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh that's right, you're a prince so you can do as you please? Well this isn't your world, asshole, so you go where I say you can go or you find another place to live, got it?" Her small face flushed red angrily as she shouted at him.

Vegeta was silent, studying her as she shrieked, wincing a bit. Then he threw his head back in laughter.

"Something funny, vegetable head?" Bulma's hands were on her hips.

The laughter was cut short as his dark eyes lit up in flames, his arms seizing hers, he glared down at her.

He was quiet for a long time before speaking, reveling in the silence.

"You are right…" he traced his finger down her nose, glancing back at the radar "this isn't my world…yet."

Then he stepped around her and headed back up the stairs.

Bulma stood still and stared at the radar, her heart pounding in her tiny chest, she whimpered softly. She picked it up, holding it tightly to her chest, and ran to phone Dr. Briefs.