"Stupid movie. Stupid Fantasies. Stupid Vegeta," Bulma muttered to herself as she walked around her room preparing for bed. "Who does he think he is acting as if he knows my secret desires? There's nothing wrong with me. There's nothing wrong with wanting a little change in my life or beginning to think that my relationship with Yamcha has become so predictable that I'm finding that new and dangerous thoughts turn me on. As long as I don't act on them, that is." She pulled on her night gown and grabbed a brush to roughly pull it through her hair." I'm sure Yamcha has things that he doesn't talk about too, like staring at those girls working out at the gym. You can definitely tell that he trained with Master Roshi, that's for sure." After finally brushing a tangle out of her hair she threw the brush down with an aggravated sigh. "Ugh, why is it so stuffy in here? I can barely think straight."

In actuality she knew why it was so stuffy. About Mid Summer the personal AC unit for her room had broken down and she never bothered to fix it. She was too busy working on projects to call for it to be repaired and it was just as easy to open the window and the refreshing breeze wafting in moved the air better than any ceiling fan could.

Of course, there was another reason she didn't want to fix it right away… which was exactly why the window was tightly closed at this moment. After all, if Vegeta, someone who had no idea what was considered right and wrong to Earth's way had possibly picked up on her twisted fantasy, then it was only so much more time before she got bad enough that others could pick up on it. She wondered how anyone else would reacted to catching her in the midst of rooting for the bad guy. "They'd probably worry that I'm going to start cheering for the androids to win."

So despite her discomfort, she refused to open the window hoping that her sick desires would go away in time. She had to break herself of this habit. After all, it was wrong. Wasn't it? She shook herself of that thought. "Of course it's wrong. If anyone found out about it they'd think I needed therapy." She cast one more longing glance at the window, wanting the cool breeze to move the stuffy air of course, before pulling back her blankets and curling up to sleep.

Bulma woke up, an hour later according to her clock, covered in sweat. "I can't take it anymore. I won't be able to sleep at all if I'm not comfortable." Pushing her covers off, she crossed the room to her window. Opening it, she smiled as the gentle breeze rushed in, instantly cooling her. "I'll work on conquering my dark fantasies later. For now I'll enjoy them, along with the breeze."

Turning back to try to sleep again, she froze in fear as she saw her shadow on the wall become engulfed by the shadow of a man. She tried to make out any distinguishing features but within a split second the curtain's shadow covered them both. She turned to see what was going on but there was no person standing there. She took in a deep breath to calm herself. "It was only the curtain. My stupid imagination, am I really that desperate?" She tried to laugh it off but her amusement quickly vanished as she realized that the reason the curtain was loose enough to darken the whole room was because the tie back had been removed.

With a gasp, she took a staggering step back, paralyzing with fear as she bumped into something solid that wouldn't normally be in her room. Before she could move, the cloth of the tie back appeared before her eyes, instantly darkening her vision. She felt the fabric wrap around her wrists causing her arms to uncomfortably cross behind her back, the ends falling into her hands. Desperately, she grabbed the ends and tried to pull in hopes that the bindings would come untied but her efforts were in vain as they stayed in place. A warm puff of air caressed the back of her neck which instantly made her body freeze but the feel of fingertips gently running up the length of her twisted arms made her knees almost buckle.

Bulma was terrified. By the man, of course, but even more so by herself… because his touch was like magic to her. 'No, this is wrong. Think, Bulma, think! How do I get out of this? How did he even get up here in the first place?' That insight struck her hard. There is only one man who could get to her window. "Vegeta?"

"Don't expect me to sing for you, Woman."

Thanks for reading. I love the reviews coming in and I'm glad that there are so many people giving the story a chance despite it being set around Halloween. Feel free to leave more reviews, I love seeing them.