A/N: Vegeta faces Bulma, the Androids, and ... ? Read to find out who his next challenger is!

DISCLAIMER: It's not mine! It's not mine! ::sob::

The smoke emitting from her cigarette colored the air a pasty gray. Bulma had been chain smoking for the past two and a half hours. Her lungs were probably filled with ash and cancer.

After Yamcha had left the premises, Bulma had stood dumbly in the front hall, staring at the front door. Then she had quickly excused herself from the room and gone straight to her bedroom.

She had hurriedly rummaged through her drawers, fumbling around until she had found a half-smoked pack of white and russet colored cigarettes. Bulma was growing quite accustomed to this habit again, something she did not revere. She had been smoke free for the past week, and now the ugly compulsion had reared its ugly little head again.

"What's that disgusting smell?"

Not having heard Vegeta come up behind her, Bulma was startled to say the least. She felt especially stupid, as she was standing a few yards from the Gravity Room and should have seen the Saiyan emerge just a few moments ago.

Turning around after expelling smoke from the side of her mouth, Bulma found herself looking directly into Vegeta's eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked, not bothering to answer his question, particularly when she knew that he knew the answer already.

Vegeta darted his eyes towards her fingers which were holding the smoldering tobacco. Too quick for her eyes, he had seized it in an iron grip and thrown it behind his shoulder without looking behind him to see where it had landed.

"What the hell, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled at him, peering anxiously behind him in a vein attempt to see where it had landed. "I'm not in the mood, alright?"

He didn't seem to care as he returned her hateful gaze. "I could care less what type of mood you happen to be in woman," he stated firmly, "but I won't have you contaminating my air supply."

So upset was the woman that he had the audacity to catastrophically destroy her smoking period, she refused to dignify his response with one of her own. Instead she coiled her lips into an ugly smile, pushed a piece of sapphire hair behind her ear and replaced her first cigarette.

The flame burst from her lighter.

The lighter burst into flame.

"Damn you!"

The aforementioned stood in front of her, his hand cocked like a pistol. One of his fingers remained trained at where her cigarette had once been.

"You asshole!" screamed Bulma, finally losing her cool. She looked around, searching for a stick or stone… a weapon of any sort to emphasize her fury.

She rapidly bent down, grabbed a white pump, and heaved it at Vegeta, who immediately deflected it.

Her wrist in his hand. A familiar scenario.

"Two seconds and that hand better be somewhere else!" threatened Bulma.

Two seconds later his hand was somewhere else.

Her breast.

His other hand slipped behind her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her head went right under his chin and she could smell soap. Bulma forgot about her interrupted smoke.

"Since when do you make an effort to be clean?" she asked him, sniffing exaggeratedly.

He pushed her gently away from him, a strange look on his face.

"I bathe, woman."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Sure." She suddenly remembered her anger.

"You owe me for my next pack you know."

He arched an eyebrow. "Pack?"

Bulma pointed behind him and he turned around, his gaze dropping on the fallen cigarette. She had remembered once again.

"I would think my services here would be enough payment," Vegeta said as he crossed his arms looking very put out, and very cute. "You should be thanking me for saving your life, woman."

Bulma scrunched up her eyes. "Saving your life? Are you kidding me? The Androids aren't even here yet!"

Wordlessly Vegeta pointed behind him. "If you hadn't the attention span of a three-year-old, you'd remember that we were talking about those cancerous things that fill your lungs with smoke."

Bulma wasn't startled at his sarcasm. She was however, somewhat taken aback by his concern for her.

"Jeez. I never thought you'd be so interested in my health." Bulma smiled so that all of her teeth showed. "Wow. This is quite a fascinating development. Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans caring about my welfare!"

He curled his upper lip. "Don't push it, woman."

There was an awkward pause.

"The smoke pollutes the air I breathe," Vegeta added quickly after being presented with another giant toothy smile.

"Sure babe," Bulma said, pinching his cheek between her thumb and index.

Scowling, Vegeta pushed her away from his face. "Stop that! I'm not to be coddled!"

"You liked that earlier," she taunted him, lowering her eyelashes at him. "You didn't tell me to stop then."

He growled.

"What's the matter, Vegeta?" Bulma traced a line from his jaw to his hairline with her finger. "What's got you all hot and bothered?"

"I have to train and you're proving yourself nothing more than a nuisance. Now get out of my way, pest!"

But Bulma noticed he made no attempt to shove her away, that he took no steps to further the distance between them. Instead he was gazing at her darkly, his fists clenched at his waist.

He was holding himself back.

From her.

Bulma leaned forward and kissed him on the nose. She had discovered a sure-fire way to rid herself of the anger and sadness coursing through her.

"Upstairs. Now."

How he had managed to find himself lying bare in the presence of Bulma Brief once again was a question Vegeta could not answer. Hadn't he the strength to fight even his most primal urges? Saying no to the woman and keeping her at a considerable distance… could he ever do it?

Vegeta faced the naked woman, locked his eyes with her own. She stared back at him, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. The woman smiled weakly, pulling the covers up towards her chin.

At once the Saiyan was overcome with defiance. Why couldn't he use the woman for his own purposes? Why should he feel guilty about defiling himself with this earthling? Why keep himself from her, when she desired him so freely?

He stood in front of her naked, crossing his arms.

"It's time to make some rules," he stated firmly. "Understand?"

Her eyes had traveled somewhere lower than his face and this annoyed him. He could forgive her for that though. After all, she had been with that pathetic human for some time now. The body of a true warrior was probably fascinating for her.

"Uh-huh," Bulma said, biting her bottom lip seductively. "What did you say?"

"Pay attention!" he demanded. Vegeta began to pull on his shirt.

Bulma found his face. "Okay, okay. Rules? What type of rules? Rules about what?"

He decided not to answer. He merely looked at her.

His lack of communication seemed to work. Bulma slowly unfolded herself from the bedspread and stood to face him.

Now it was his time to stare. She was speaking and he could not hear.

"Vegeta!"

He snapped to attention.

"Hypocrite," she muttered.

Bulma snatched a bathrobe off of her closet door and tied it around her quickly. "Why do we need rules anyway? I don't see what the big deal is. We're adults you know."

"Your parents-," began Vegeta, but he was interrupted.

"-what about them?" she asked with her hands on her hips. "They don't suspect a thing."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Your parents are meddling fools."

She was quiet at that. No denying the truth he supposed.

"Furthermore," he continued, "I intend to continue my training regiment to prepare for the Androids. I can't have you interrupting me every ten minutes because you can't control yourself."

"And I can't have you interrupting me every ten minutes to fix something for you because your desire for me overwhelms you. If you want a quickie all you have do is ask."

His jaw went slack.

"Now if you'll be a dear and let me pass," the woman said as she gently pushed him aside, "I have to take a shower."

Vegeta growled not for the first time that day. He needed to be somewhere without estrogen. He gritted his teeth as he realized where he would be heading.

Something about that woman made him feel invincible.

It. Was. Time.

Chi-Chi wrung out the blue and white speckled dishtowel and heaved a great sigh.

"One hundred dishes down, a hundred more to go."

The amount of dishes was an obvious exaggeration, but the extent to which both her son and husband could eat was not. Like wild animals they devoured their food until there was nothing left but gnawed bones on a dirty plate.

"That I have to wash," she grumbled, sticking her hands back in the warm, soapy water.

Chi-Chi glanced out of the window that was stationed above the kitchen sink. She could see into the backyard where Goku and ten-year old Gohan were having a friendly spar.

She watched for a moment, interested. Her husband was a master at martial arts, the strongest man in the universe. Her son Gohan seemed to have inherited his father's strength. He could keep up with him, even at such a young age. Chi-Chi allowed herself to smile. They were moving so quickly that she could barely make out their fading outlines. Their training sessions usually went well.

Even if Goku mostly did them without her permission.

"I sure have lightened up," she said, looking over at the clean, stacked dishes on top of the counter.

And suddenly there was a flash of blinding light, the sound of glass breaking. Chi-Chi screamed as a blast of energy shattered her window and came straight towards her.

She was forcibly shoved to the opposite side of the kitchen and against the wall.

When the smoke had cleared the room, Chi-Chi managed a weak cough and looked up at her rescuer, who also happened to have been the attacker.

"Gee, I'm really sorry Chi-Chi! I guess Gohan's not ready for the... what are you going to do with that?"

Chi-Chi had already retrieved her frying pan, silver and dark around the edges from years of use and wear.

"GOKU!"

The tall Saiyan backed up, hands raised as an act of submission.

"Chi-Chi, honey!"

"Don't you honey me!" she shouted. She pointed behind him. "Look at the mess you've just made!"

And it was quite a mess. The blast had broken through the window and burnt the curtains. It had blown-up upon contact with the refrigerator, leaving a floor full of disintegrated food and plastic. That was nothing compared to the dishes, which had all crashed onto the floor during the explosion and now lay in a pile of broken glass and crystal.

Goku seemed to realize just how serious the situation was. He laughed nervously, putting one hand behind his head. If anything, he was going to make Chi-Chi laugh, which wasn't something he did often.

"Come on babe, it was an accident! Besides, it was only a couple of plates!"

Perhaps that wasn't amusing to her. Chi-Chi's eyes flashed and she stormed over, the pan hovering above his head.

"DO YOU THINK THAT I'VE BEEN IN THIS KITCHEN FOR HOURS JUST CLEANING UP A FEW PLATES?"

"Chi-Chi!"

"I HAVE BEEN WORKING ALL DAY GOKU! DO YOU HEAR ME? ALL DAY!"

Somehow, he had to relax her. Goku thought for a moment. Calming Chi-Chi once she had been set off was no easy task.

"YOU ARE GOING TO STAY IN HERE AND CLEAN UP THIS KITCHEN! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, GOKU? AND YOU CAN GET GOHAN IN HERE TO HELP!"

Chi-Chi stalked to the window, and in her loudest voice, shouted the boy's name. He didn't dare take off.

"You're going to help your father fix this mess," she said to him, narrowing her dark eyes.

She lifted her head so that her chin was high in the air. "Call me when it's finished."

"But mom!" whined Gohan, sticking out his lower lip. "I don't know what to do!"

Chi-Chi thought about yelling again, then decided that perhaps Gohan had a point. After all, he was ten. He usually needed her instruction. It wasn't as if Goku had any idea what he was doing. He had picked up a broom and was sweeping the dirt in different directions.

She sighed.

At that moment, Goku lifted his head and looked behind his shoulder. He grinned broadly.

"Hey! Vegeta's here! Alright!"

Chi-Chi arched an eyebrow. Since when had Vegeta's presence in her home been cause for celebration? The last time she had seen Vegeta had been the day her ill-fated friend Bulma had allowed the man to stay at her home and he had been insane. Besides that, the man was practically obsessed with his gravity chamber. She thought he never left it. Or had hoped really.

There was a sharp knock at the front door and Gohan smiled.

"I'll get it, mom!"

He returned a second later with the sullen looking prince. He gave Chi-Chi no indication that he had seen her. Instead he crossed his arms and looked over at her husband, who had stopped his chores.

"Kakarot," he said in a commanding voice, "what would you say to a friendly spar?"

Chi-Chi 'hmphed'. The last thing there would ever be between Goku and Vegeta was a friendly spar.

Goku looked over at her and then his entire face turned downwards in what could only be described as pitiful realization.

"Sorry, Vegeta," he said morosely. "I've got to help Chi-Chi clean up the kitchen."

Vegeta looked around him, at the floor. "Why waste the time? You're only going to mess it up again. Besides, it's an improvement on what you normally have. Forget this foolishness, Kakarot."

Goku sighed. "I can't. Hey, why don't you ask Bulma to make a bot? I'm sure she'd love to help you."

Vegeta gave the taller man a cross look. "I doubt that, Kakarot. Besides, I haven't gotten the opportunity to beat you into a bloody pulp yet." He smirked.

Goku grinned. "Oh, really now?"

Chi-Chi could feel the level of testosterone reaching dangerous levels. Goku loved battle.

"No, Goku. Don't even think about it!" She glared at him. "You are going to stay here and help me and Gohan!"

"It'll only be a little while," Goku said pleadingly. "Come on! I'll clean it up all by myself when I get back!" He smiled at her as another idea presented itself.

"Hey, I know! I'll just get Piccolo to do it! He owes me one!"

"Goku," Chi-Chi said edgily, "One monster is…"

Chi-Chi didn't finish the sentence, but it was possible the Saiyans had understood what she meant. Vegeta's twitching eye looked as though it might have an inkling.

"Are we going to spar or not?" A tiny vein had appeared on Vegeta's forehead.

"Go ahead, Goku" Chi-Chi said, absolutely defeated. "You'll only make it worse if you try to help."

Goku gave another prize-winning smile. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. "Thanks a lot Chich."

"You'd better not think you're off the hook for this, mister!" she called after him as he and Vegeta walked into the front yard.

Chi-Chi looked down at Gohan who was dejectedly sweeping ashes into a dustpan. He was bent over on one knee, his tongue sticking out. He looked so much like his father had at his age that she couldn't help but smile.

"Gohan, sweetheart, why don't you go watch? Enjoy life," she said, not really sure what had come over her.

Gohan didn't look as though he knew what had come over his mother either. "Really, mom? I can go?"

Chi-Chi kissed his forehead and pointed him towards the doorway. "Yes. Now go before I change my mind. And keep an eye on your father for me."

The boy trotted off and Chi-Chi looked back down at the rubble around her. It was easy to complain about Saiyans, but it was easier to just accept them.