Geezzz, this took so freaking long to write from those gosh darn writers blocks! Anyway, I'm back in business before the holidays (that I intend to spend for myself) and I feel like I'm getting a lot accomplished. I'm still planning out chapters 5 and 6 for this story, so it'll be a little while before they're up and running.

Thanks to those who reviewed! You guys are amazing I love you all! And I want to apologize to my beta for posting this chapter without running it by you. I'm kind of on restricted time and I'm gonna be really busy starting next week .

Don't own DBZ. Wish I did, but I don't. Bye!

"Every year of my life I grow more convinced that it is the wisest and best to fix our attention on the beautiful and the good, and dwell as little as possible on the evil and the false."

~Richard Cecil

Chapter 3

"Oh my God, what did you do?" Bulma inhaled sharply, ignoring the slight jab to her lungs.

He could barely let out a scowl at her before wincing at the pain shooting through his arm. "Gra...gravity room."

Blood stained the small spot where the prince kneeled, as he slightly gripped his right arm. So many questions were traveling through Bulma's head faster than the speed of light. One thought was about calling a carpet cleaner, while the other was about Vegeta's arm and him bleeding to death. The entire situation was freaking her out.

Nevertheless, she stayed placid. She had to act quickly or the poor man was going to bleed to death. Bulma gently wrapped her arms around his torso. "You're gonna have to work with me here. I can't lift you, so you have to try and get up."

Without a word, Bulma was astonished that Vegeta actually complied with her. It took him a good minute to muster up some strength to get himself off the ground. She walked him over to the edge of her bed and sat him down, almost falling on him in the process. She quickly rushed into her closet to find her first aid kit.

First aid...first aid...damnit, where is it? Oh...wait...aha! Bulma picked up the huge rectangular container that said first aid on the top and ran back out. Okay...I need ace bandages, gauze, rubbing alcohol...eh, peroxide will have to do. I have needles and string...okay I'm good. Once she gathered everything, Bulma sat where his arm was bleeding. She gently touched his hand before he snatched it away.

"Don't touch me!" He sneered, quietly.

She rolled her eyes. "Do you want me to fix your arm or would you rather bleed to death?"

He begrudgingly kept his mouth shut and let her proceed. She delicately examined his arm, looking at how deep the gash in his arm was. It was a good thing blood didn't bother her that much, or else she would probably have puked by now.

"I'm going to clean your cut so it doesn't get infected, it may burn a little." Bulma explained, putting some peroxide on the small piece of gauze in her hand.

"Woman, just clean the da...FUCK THIS PLANET!" He shouted, once he felt the burn shooting in different directions of his arm. Whatever it was that she was cleaning his arm with burned like hell, or a ki blast. It took every fibre in his being to not to start an uproar.

"You'd think someone who gets hit with all those blasts everyday of his life would be used to being burned a little." Bulma responded, sarcastically. She ignored him as she continued to clean his cut. He'd thank her later for it, that is if he ever learned to say thank you.

He watched her meticulously as she tended to his wound. Normally, he'd be left to die in his current state, so having someone like the woman tend to him with such caution baffled him. He noticed her lean more closer to him while she ran a needle and thread through his arm. He could see that her white shirt had a v-neck, showing off a dove tattoo just above her the right side of her chest and even her breasts. The Saiyan prince had a hell of a time keep his eyes off her large chest. It wasn't like he had women throwing themselves at his feet everyday. He admitted that she was attractive, for an Earthling female. She was nothing like a Saiyan. All Saiyan women were warriors alongside their mates, though they didn't fight as much as the males, they battled if one needed to.

No, this is absurd! I am the Prince of all Saiyans, and I'm not going to bother myself with this woman. As if I'd ever couple up with her. He ignored the trivial matters in his head.

While continuing to stitch his arm, Bulma thought a little more about the doubt surrounding Vegeta. Most of the doubt came from all her friends, except Goku. Though she knew Goku took her side on the matter, it still annoyed her how perisistent Yamcha was in wanting her to get rid of Vegeta. He admired her for always helping people, yet he was the first one to tell her to get rid of Vegeta. His contradictory statements really aggravated her, and Bulma was at the point that she wanted to hit him.

He's not going to change my mind, and I'm not going to let him guilt trip me either. He can either man up and deal with it or go bitch to someone who cares. Bulma reached for the Ace bandage that was beside her and started wrapping his arm. Though he was a bloody mess, she couldn't help but admire how well built he was. Broad shoulders, tight abs, and she didn't even want to venture below his waist or else she'd start drooling as if she were a desperate virgin.

Hell, I might as well be one, knowing how Yamcha kinda sucks when it comes to matters like sex. Ignoring her sexual frustration, she took the the last two metal clasps and secured his wrapped arm in place.

"There, all done. I can't really tell you how long it'll be before your stitches dissolve, since I don't normally work with Saiyan anatomy, but you still need to rest." She explained, throwing everything back in her first aid kit.

Vegeta merely scoffed at her. "Don't pretend to be dense, woman. There's no way in hell that I'm going to stop my training, especially when I have to surpass Kakarot."

"Oh, I didn't think what I said was up for discussion." Bulma replied, setting her first aid kit on her dresser.

"Don't you undermine me! Training is my top priority right now, not resting!" Vegeta spat, clenching his fist.

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you. Even the Prince of all Saiyans needs to rest. It won't hurt your pride if you take a day or two to rest." Bulma told him, crossing her arms.

"Stop wasting my time. I'm going to train." He growled, walking out of her room.

"Oh, I wonder where you're going to train when I self-destruct the gravity room?" Bulma asked. The next thing she knew, her back was flat against the wall with Vegeta pinning her to it. There was very little space that Bulma could feel his breath on her neck.

"You wouldn't dare, if you knew what was best for you that is." He whispered, his tone full of force.

She smirked at how pissed he was getting. She knew he was going to bend to her will before she spoke another word. "Don't push me. You either rest, or the gravity room get's demolished. Take your pick, Prince Vegeta."

He sighed heavily through his nose. If he wasn't highly angered by the woman, he knew for certain that he would have been turned on when she acknowledged his royalty. Damn her for being the sole benefactor of my training.

"Fine." He grumbled, moving away from her.

"Okay. At my mother's request, I put fresh sheets and pillowcases on your bed." Bulma responded, straightening out her shirt.

"At least the blonde woman knows how to pay respect to her superiors. You ought to learn a thing or two, woman." He said, walking out of her room.

"Yeah, I'll serve you when Goku turns into a Great Ape." Bulma mumbled, shutting her door for the night. Thank Kami she could enjoy what was left of her night.

Nearly a week passed, yet Vegeta was still ordered to rest by Bulma. She knew he ultimately hated it, but if he didn't want the gravity room to be destroyed, he would comply when it was neccessary. Bulma had continued to tend to his injuries and clean his arm and put on fresh bandages since he still bled through the first couple. Sometimes she got the feeling when she would help him, he was staring at her or some part of her body, which was mostly her chest. It did freak her out most of the time, but she was happy that he was getting better.

While she was in the lab, Bulma kept getting distracted from looking at her blueprints for the new version of capsules. Her mind stayed stuck on thinking of Vegeta and sometimes Yamcha. Most of her thoughts of Yamcha were thoughts that revolved around him being incredibly annoying. At first, she thought his jealousy was cute in a way, but now it was to the point where she wanted to shoot him.

Seriously, it's not like I'm infatuated with Vegeta. There's no sort of chemistry whatsoever...at least I'm pretty sure there isn't. Yamcha's just being paranoid. She took a glance at her clock and realized that she worked way past her lunch break. Gee, I really am hungry. I guess I could use the time since I'm nearly done with the blueprints.

She took off her lab coat and threw it on her chair before leaving the lab. Once she was on the ground floor of her home, she found the little bin that her mother liked to keep the footy socks and house shoes in and slipped her feet into her white, furry slippers. She could feel the difference in her feet every time she put her feet into something comfortable and less painful. After relishing in the comfort of her slippers, she met her mother in the kitchen, reading the latest issue of Cosmo.

"Hey, Mom. Find anything interesting?" Bulma asked, taking out bread and lunchmeat for her sandwich.

"Not really sweetie. I wonder how that young man is doing." Bunny said, sipping her cup of tea.

"Eh, he's still being rude as ever, but he's healing." Bulma told her, while making her sandwich.

"Well that's great, sweetie! Have you heard from Yamcha?" Bunny asked, curiously.

Bulma sarcastically laughed while rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I've heard from Yamcha...heard from him too much lately."

"Oh? What's the matter? Did something happen?" Bunny sounded somewhat concerned, while setting her magazine aside.

"It's nothing huge, he's just been skeptical about Vegeta staying with us. I totally get where he's coming from, but I just wish he could understand that everyone isn't perfect. Vegeta hasn't really been noble, but I know deep down that he's a good person." Bulma explained, drizzling some Italian dressing on her sandwich.

"Maybe he's just jealous. Any man like Vegeta would be considered good husband material in my day." Bunny smiled, making Bulma giggle to herself.

"Yeah, you know men don't like it when women say they're jealous. Yamcha would never admit it." Bulma admitted, taking a bite of her sandwich, "Eh, I'm going back in the lab. See you in a few hours."

"Okay, darling." Bunny said, trying to figure out how she was going to spend her afternoon.

xxxx

Just like the previous day, Yamcha spent most of the day training, with a few breaks in between. Though he was giving it his all, he still felt no difference, albeit it hasn't been that long. Every time he looked over at that gravity room sitting idle a few feet away from him, it constantly reminded him of the Saiyan prince. Specifically, it reminded him of his incompetence and inadequacy. In comparison to Vegeta, he might as well not call himself a warrior.

I want to push myself to be the best I can. How the hell am I supposed to feel better about myself when there's a pompous bastard hanging right over my head. Yamcha balled his fist tightly, growling at the thought of Vegeta's face, with his voice echoing around in his head telling him he was a waste of space and had nothing to show for.

While his mind was on the subject of Vegeta, it instantly made him feel even more bitter. He knew well about Bulma taking care of Vegeta for the last week, and it would never sit right with him. He couldn't comprehend how she could take care of such an asshole.

Bulma's always had a soft heart for people...even for the evilest people like Vegeta. What he's getting handed to him is well deserved karma. He should understand that's what happens when you treat innocent people like shit. Hell, if it were me I wouldn't help a guy like that. I'm just sick of Bulma trying to convince me that he's a good person. Like hell he's a good person. Goku's a good person...Krillin's a good person. Hell, anyone besides Vegeta is a good person. Yamcha smashed the plastic bottle holding his water. He went back and threw himself into training like there wouldn't be another day on Earth.

xxxx

Trying to take advantage of the rest of her evening, Bulma was sitting on the couch in the living room with a hot bowl of soup, wearing her oversized, beige sweater with her thick, dark grey scarf wrapped snug around her neck. She was watching a special about cheetahs on Animal Planet. She thought the parts with the little baby cheetah cubs and the mother cheetah was the most adorable thing to watch. It still surprised her how much mothers of animal species would do anything to protect their babies.

The subject of babies and mothers always brought Bulma's mind to thinking about her future. She always wanted to get married and have children. She figured that eventually, she and Yamcha would get married, but never thought much of it. They've been together for ten years and there was still no talk of the future with Yamcha. It wasn't like she was getting any younger. Ever since Krillin had brought that Maron chick around, just for the bitch to ridicule her age, Bulma started to feel that maybe she was wasting her life away. Most of her co-workers were already married and had children by now, and her she was...still dating Yamcha. Not that it was bad, but she'd figure after maybe four years of dating that he'd propose by then. Now, she wasn't sure if he'd ever do it.

Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion, but then again it really bothers me because I want a family of my own so bad. She sighed, going back to eating her chicken noodle soup and watching TV.

"What a way to make use of your time." Bulma nearly spilled her soup in her lap when she heard Vegeta's voice. She assumed he just finished his training, before noticing that it was going on eleven o' clock.

"Look who's talking. You've been in bed for a week." She replied, going back to eating her soup.

"Only because you threatened the destruction of what I need to train." He sneered in disgust.

"It was the only thing that I knew would make you listen to me. If you weren't so stubborn I wouldn't have to make threats." Bulma explained, sipping the broth from her soup.

"Oh yes, coming from you surely makes your statement less hypocritical." He spat, sarcastically. He could feel a headache beginning to brew in his temples.

"Whatever. I win at the end of the day because you still listened to me. Speaking of your injuries, I need to check your arm." Bulma told him, setting her soup on the side table next to her, "Sit."

Rolling his eyes, he sat next to her on the couch as she began to unwrap his bandages. After setting the bandages aside, Bulma could see that his body dissolved all the stitches pretty quickly. Then again, his Saiyan anatomy heals faster than a humans.

"Well you're free to go. Your body oddly dissolves stitches pretty quickly." She said, watching him move his arm around.

Finally, I can get back to my training and not deal with that vile woman, He thought, walking away from her.

Once he was gone, she sighed for a moment before directing her attention back to her soup. She wondered if she would have to spend the rest of her days dealing with that on a daily basis...or would Vegeta eventually leave once the androids have been destroyed?

Who the hell knows. Before she could change the channel on TV, she heard someone knock on the front door. "Coming!"

As soon as she opened the door, she saw Yamcha standing there. He was covered in dirt from head to toe, and his body wreaked of sweat.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but Kami you smell awful!" Bulma exclaimed, plugging her nose. She shut the door so that they could talk outside, despite the weather being less warm than she expected.

"I need to talk to you about something. It's kind of about us." Yamcha said, in a tone that made Bulma's heart skip a beat, but not in any sort of good way that suggested love. Thoughts were running through her mind like a track race, and so many fears were coming to mind that she didn't know what she would do.

Oh Kami, does he want to break up? Did I do something? Is he still mad that I've been taking care of Vegeta? I am working too much? Eh...that's a bit of stretch. Is he seeing other girls? What the hell is wrong now? What could have possibly happened between a couple days ago and now? Why are half of things going through my mind sound so absurd? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

"Eh, never mind...I'll just come by another day. I have a lot on my mind." Yamcha said, dismissively while flying away into the distance.

Bulma just stood there, slightly confused and annoyed. How could that jerk just show up at her house, almost close to midnight demanding that they talk yet...he flies away and doesn't utter a peep.

Okay, awkward. He wanted to talk...yet he goes away? Hmm, maybe he's scared...who knows I'm going to bed. She turned back into the house and forgot that anything ever happened.

Five days following Yamcha's unexpected visit, Bulma had thrown herself heavily into her work. The holidays had just passed and since some people were still gone for their vacations, Bulma had to make up all their work that wasn't getting done. It was so much to do that she hadn't really seen anyone in the last forty-eight hours. She didn't even have much time to have her daily dose of arguments with Vegeta, not that she looked forward to that everyday, the process became normal for her.

That's the only thing I absolutely can't STAND about the holidays. I mean, seriously people it's freaking Thanksgiving! Christmas I could understand, but not Thanksgiving. Who goes to Santa Monica for Thanksgiving? Bulma growled to herself a little before taking a sip of her hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon. Her fingers kept tapping away on her computer, trying to get what was left of the blueprints for the new Capsule Corp jets.

"How are the blueprints coming along?" Dr. Briefs asked, coming into Bulma's office.

"Fine, since I'm doing them. At least I can come home knowing there aren't any mistakes that call for emergency phone calls." Bulma answered, shrugging her shoulders.

"Someone's a bit grouchy. Take a break, dear, you look overwhelmed." He suggested, looking at the already done blueprints.

"As much as I want to, things are far to behind to take a break." She told him, now taking a swig of her Monster energy drink.

Dr. Briefs conceded, knowing the consequence of insisting a break. "All right. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"A club sandwich, chili fries, and a Red Bull. Thanks Dad!" Bulma chirped, continuing to focus her attention on her computer screen.

Almost ten minutes later, she received a call from her receptionist. Bulma was feeling slightly irritated, since she asked her receptionist not to bother. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry...Ms. Briefs, there's a man here...and he's deman-," Her receptionist, Lyndi stammered, giving away who the unexpected guest was.

"Just send him in, Lyndi." Bulma told her, cutting the line off. Though she was already pissed off because of the interruption, Bulma felt bad for her receptionist. Anyone would be terrified of Vegeta upon first introductions. He wasn't exactly the patient type when it came to understanding human etiquette.

"Woman." She heard Vegeta say, continuing to ignore him.

"What? What could you possibly need right now?" Bulma asked, frantically.

"I need new bo-," He started, before being interrupted.

"Yeah, I know you need more bots. You just flew all the way here for nothing because they're stored next to the control panel on the outside of the gravity room anyway." She interjected, biting her lip.

"That would have been good to know before now, wench." He growled.

"Well, if you bothered to ask rather than make demands, you would have known. Now incase you can't see I'm busy! So can we save the witty, uncomical banter for later?" Bulma questioned, nonchalantly.

Way to not be a bitch. Vegeta scoffed before slamming the door on his way out. Once he was gone, Bulma did feel a little bad that she yelled at him, since she wasn't the type to lose her cool most of the time. It was getting a little redundant to always make him new training bots every few days, and she didn't have that kind of time. She knew it was all for the android battle, but her life didn't stop now just because he was semi-permanent guest in her home. As she continued her work, she couldn't help but still wonder what the next couple years of her life would be like. Only time would determine her path.

Well, the end to another chapter. Well, I won't be writing for a couple weeks because I have a huge project and I have finals to study for before the semester ends, so wish me luck! Until next time, happy reading and leave some reviews!

Cherriez