A/N: Ya'll asked for a sequel...

Disclaimers: I don't own nothin'.

Chapter 2 - Shooting Lightning

A long sigh came out of Bulma as she lay awake in her bed, staring at her ceiling. As a kid, she painted her ceiling black, and splattered glow-in-the-dark paint to make stars. It still appealed to her in her adulthood, but at this moment, she wanted to see some real stars. Maybe she could read her future.

Hah, yeah right. I can't predict a thing, especially this past month.

As she headed for her balcony, her thoughts wandered over to Vegeta's behavior since her accident in the canyon. He had been bipolar as all get out, and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. It was summer and she often wore more revealing clothing. In the presence of anyone else, he'd ignore her or mutter some cutting remark about her cooking or her laziness. But every time they were alone, he'd do one of two things: demand she cover up more, or stare at her like a wolf eying his next meal.

She wasn't about to lie to herself and say she didn't enjoy the latter. It was half the reason she chose to wear her sexier outfits this summer. The other half was because she enjoyed seeing his prudish nature.

Not bothering to pull on her robe, she opened the sliding glass door to her balcony, and started climbing the ladder rungs she had installed on the exterior wall of Capsule Corp leading up to the roof. Reaching the small platform she had built for herself, she pulled herself up and dusted herself off, and was surprised to find she was not alone.

"Vegeta, why are you here?"

He was laying back with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the night sky. He looked over as she lay next to him, not touching, but if he even breathed hard, he'd brush up against all of her creamy, soft skin.

"Put something on, you look indecent," he grunted.

"Nice to see you too," she replied snarkily. "I am wearing the cutest and trendiest loungewear, just for your information." Bulma gestured towards her pink spaghetti strap top with lace accents, and her black boxer-style shorts with a pink stripes on each side. "Super comfy too." She mimicked his pose, staring up at the sky as well.

After a few silent moments, Bulma finally asked, "Why do you always tell me to put something on?"

He ignored her.

"Come on, tell me."

Silence.

Finally, she wrapped her hands around a bicep, idly noting how good his muscles felt, and shook him.

Vegeta finally turned his head to give her a gimlet stare. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. I mean, I know I'm smoking hot, but what do you care?"

Suddenly she found her body covered in heat as Vegeta grabbed her wrists and pinned her down. He left a millimeter between his body and hers, and part of her yearned for him to crush her, to close that space that was so small and yet felt so vast.

His lips brushed against her earlobe as he growled, "It's dangerous to dress so indecently with a body like yours. A man could go crazy and just…" He bit her ear then, and she gasped, her body flushing. She should have been scared. She should have been cold with terror.

Instead, she felt like he had just set her on fire with that one bite, and she wanted more. But this is Vegeta. I can't. Her arms and legs twitched as she fought to keep her limbs from wrapping around him and pulling him to her. Ooh, but I really, really want to find out.

Vegeta struggled to hold back. Her gasp and almost inaudible moan pushed at his need to make her completely his. But he knew she would just be a distraction from his main goal of becoming the strongest. He would overcome his primal desires and work towards a higher goal.

But having Bulma underneath him, staring up at him with her clear blue eyes and her strawberry scent wafting around him, clouded his senses. He shook his head and got up and away from her. Levitating off the roof, he distanced himself from her enough so that her scent wasn't driving him mad.

"Any man could overpower you. Trust no one," he said as he flew back to his room.

Once he was gone, Bulma took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. She continued to stare at the stars, calming herself from her heated encounter. His words swirled around in her head, making her wonder about his intentions for the rest of the night. Was he being kind in a roundabout way? Or was it a veiled threat? Or could it be, possibly, that he was warning her against himself?

Maybe I'm playing with fire, constantly teasing him the way I do. I mean, he seems to have iron willpower, but what if his self-control snaps? What would I do? What COULD I do against that level of strength?

She shivered all of a sudden, but it wasn't from fear. Just imagining Vegeta's powerful body on hers, taking her, dominating her... Finally she sat up. "So much for a relaxing night," she mumbled as she got up and went back to her room.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Day passed, and Vegeta appeared to return to his normal routine of either ignoring her or arguing with her about fixing the gravity machine. Bulma couldn't reconcile the man who was being a complete dick with the man who had held her so gently a month before.

Whatever, I can't spend all my time trying to figure him out, she thought one Friday night as she got ready to go out. She hadn't been clubbing in forever, and though usually she had gone with Yamcha, tonight she figured she could go on her own, maybe find a distraction from…

Her brain froze as memories of almost every time Vegeta had walked around the house shirtless replayed in her head. She shook her head, but her mind was relentless, and she buried her face in her hands. "I need a distraction," she grumbled as she put on her hottest slinky black dress. The bottom of the dress reached her mid-thigh and wrapped tightly around her, and the plunging neckline of her dress reached her navel with corset style laces criss-crossing up to her breasts, barely keeping the cloth wrapped around her. The back of her dress was practically non-existent, reaching the small of her back.

"Oh yeah, I'm going to kill it tonight!" she said happily. She didn't believe that she should cover up just because some men weren't taught to respect a woman properly. If a man tried anything, she'd kick his ass. She put on her makeup, slipped on some sexy gladiator style stilettos, grabbed her little purse, and headed out the door.

Vegeta watched from the roof as she threw out a capsule car, climbed in, and drove off. He gritted his teeth, seeing her look as amazing as she did, and tried desperately not to care. I must train.

He remembered her scent, the way she looked under him that night.

I must train. Training. TRAIN-

Vegeta turned away and flew back into the gravity room, ignoring the part of him screaming to chase after her.

I can't afford to be distracted. She's beautiful, but she'd just be a hindrance. I just want to defeat the androids, defeat Kakarot, and get the hell off this planet.

He shut the door to the gravity room and set the gravity to 400.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Bulma had reached her destination: downtown West City. She stepped out and encapsulated her car in front of one of the trendiest clubs in town. Walking towards the entrance and ignoring the line, she waved her ID at the bouncer in the front. The bouncer took one glance at her and immediately waved her through with a polite "welcome back Ms. Briefs."

Part of her felt a little bad about bypassing all the people, but at the same time, she really didn't want to wait in line. Sometimes fame had its uses. She usually tried to stay out of the limelight, but her occasional appearances in public were never ignored. She smiled at some of people taking photos of her as she walked inside.

The beat of the music, the dim lights, and the mass of people made it easy for her to just lose herself in the crowd and become anonymous. Like a fish in a school, she made her way to the middle of the dance floor because she knew it'd be harder to get grabbed off to the side. Without Yamcha here, she knew she'd have to look after herself.

Not that I wouldn't be able to watch out for myself, it's not like he paid 100% attention to me anyway, she thought, a little bitterly. There were more that enough instances of her pushing away guys who thought she was alone because Yamcha had conveniently "lost her in the crowd." She was mostly over it, but it still stung a little.

Her favorite song came on, and she lost herself to the rhythm, just dancing and forgetting all of her problems. Her heart heavy with the past and with current dilemmas, she didn't pay attention to how she was slowly being herded to the side of the dance floor, and then realized a little belatedly that she was too close to the rear service exit.

Turning to return to the middle of the club, she saw two big men standing in her way. One had short dark hair and a tan suit. The other had blond hair tied back in a short queue, and a blue, pinstriped suit.

"Please move out of my way," she said, standing akimbo. When they didn't respond, she kicked the blond man in the balls, and he instantly went down. The other man took a step back, and she proceeded to walk past him.

A beefy arm wrapped around her waist. She twisted in his grasp, slapping him in the face. He clamped her mouth shut with his hand, but she bit down hard, and he yelped in pain and let her go. She ran back towards the crowd, but the blond man she had kicked was back up and wrapped an arm around her neck, muffling her scream. His suit jacket was protecting him from her angry bites, so she focused more on trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

The dark haired man grabbed her by the legs to stop her from kicking, and the two of them proceeded to exit the club via the back. The man holding her by the neck laughed as he reached into his pocket and threw a capsule. An unmarked, black car popped out.

"You're worth a pretty penny, little lady," the blond man whispered in her ear. She struggled harder, but only managed to loosen a strap of her dress off her right shoulder. Deciding to go limp for now, she thought of her potential next move, and waited for an opening.

I… might be in trouble here. Maybe someone saw me getting kidnapped?

But part of her knew that if someone had noticed, there would have been a bigger commotion by now. Clearly no one wanted to mess with these two.

Well damn. I've been complacent; I thought this whole kidnapping thing was passé.

The two men set her on her feet, but the blond man still had his arm around her neck. She promptly stomped on his foot with her stiletto heel, and he loosened his grip on her just enough for her to slip out from under him. She began to sprint towards the main road, but the dark haired man tackled her, her shoulder scraping against the asphalt. He easily picked her back up and threw her into the back of the car. She immediately sat up and tried to kick her way out, but he caught her leg and pulled her towards him, backhanding her. Her head spun with pain, and she cried out, although whether out loud or in her head, she wasn't sure.

Help… Vegeta...

~o~o~o~o~o~

A/N: AHAHA, CLIFFHANGER!