He looked so angry, Bulma wouldn't have been surprised if steam came out of his ears. She carefully kept her expression neutral as they left the building. She let the moment lengthen, and the silence continue. For once, she knew if she said anything at all it would be bad.

She watched as Vegeta looked up a the stars in the night sky and scowled. "All you had to do was say 'yes', woman."

Bulma shrugged and looked away. "Technically, the response is 'I do'."

The Saiyan grimaced, clearly not happy.

"Threatening to blow up the church wasn't very nice." She said in a mock-soothing tone of voice. "Nor was making the poor man faint when you threatened to kill him if he didn't marry us."

Vegeta took a deep breath. "He was weak."

Bulma sighed. "I think he's something like 77 years old, Vegeta."

"Weak." He reiterated. "And he kept asking stupid questions."

Bulma yawned. "I don't think he believed you were from another planet. I told you you shouldn't say that."

"It's the truth." He shook his head at her.

"Let's go home." She offered him her hand.

Vegeta turned his dark-eyed gaze menacingly on her and she blinked rapidly, withdrawing her hand. "I could threaten you or your parents to make you say yes."

"Now see here, Mr. Prince of all Saiyans!" Bulma pointed her finger at him defiantly, moving from placation to anger in the space of a heartbeat. "I am not going to marry you tonight! We barely even know each other!"

Vegeta bared his teeth at her. "I'm a Saiyan, a Prince and a warrior. I want you to have my son. What more do you need to know?"

Bulma tapped one foot in agitation as frustration boiled over. "What's my favorite food, what is my favorite book or movie, and my very favorite color? Do you know what I studied in school? Who was my first crush? Do you know what I want out of life? Do you even care? What do you know about me at all?"

The Saiyan stepped back in the face of her sudden anger. He growled and threw up his hands in disgust. "What does any of that have to do with you not saying yes when the man asked if you would marry me?"

"EVERYTHING!" Bulma screeched, then her voice broke. "Everything." She turned away.

Alarmed, Vegeta took a step toward her once more, moving in close. Too close. "Woman?"

She refused to look at him, and tried to shove him away with her elbow but the man wasn't budging. "A marriage is based on more than wanting a child. It's not a momentary thing, Prince. To build a family you have to know, care and respect each other ...and you have to trust."

Suspiciously, Vegeta stared at the back of her head. Trust. She'd mentioned that before. "Do you mean when you tried to bite me?"

Bite? Bulma blushed. That was a new way to describe oral sex. "Not just that, but it's that you don't trust me or even know me."

Her voice sounded so lost that Vegeta awkwardly started to touch her, but then stopped. Offering comfort was not only new, it was polar opposite of his usual ways. "You ...you like daisies." He said in an almost quiet tone of voice.

Bulma gave a mocking little laugh. "Actually no, that's my mother."

Vegeta looked away, unsure. "You are smart." He finally said. "Working on the gravity chamber like you do."

The compliment shouldn't have pleased her like it did, but she couldn't help herself.

"When you read you sometimes get so engrossed with the book that you curl up almost into a ball." He pointed out. "And you toss your keys everywhere except where they belong."

Surprised, Bulma turned her blue eyes on him. He'd noticed that?

"And you never sit properly, you always lean to one side and pull up a leg under you or something." He stared at her. "Why do you do that?"

She answered, shocked that he'd noticed that about her. "I'm a bit short, most of the time the chairs aren't very comfortable. It's a habit."

Vegeta nodded, then gave her a long look. "You like to bite."

Bulma blushed hotly. He made it sound so awful! Like she was trying to hurt him or ...or ...suddenly she remembered something Vegeta had said before. More than once. Something that might ...might be of vast importance.

The Saiyan watched her draw back and stare at him with a strange expression. "What did I say wrong?"

But Bulma was shaking her head. "No. Vegeta? Why have your Saiyan men not been mating with women from other races?"

Confused, the Saiyan shrugged. "I've told you before. Females of our race are the only ones capable of surviving being our mates."

Nervous, and pretty sure she knew the answer, Bulma pressed on. "Why is Goku's wife still alive then? And aren't you worried about my surviving?"

Vegeta shook his head matter-of-factly. "Without our tails, we are not going to accidentally hurt our mates." He said it like it was common knowledge.

"And when you, er ...transformed into your other form ...you were capable of hurting your wives?" Bulma asked, almost breathlessly. She already knew the answer. She'd seen Goku transform before, and it was if he knew no one and nothing. He could have hurt anyone and not have been aware of it at all.

"Why the questions, woman? You already told the man you would not marry me." Vegeta snarled at her.

"Why do Saiyans get married, excuse me ...mated at all?" The turquoise haired woman felt her heart was about to break. Not because of him, but for him.

Vegeta drew up proudly. "That is a stupid question, woman. For sons."

"No other reason?" She asked him straight out.

The Saiyan shrugged as if to him the answers were far too obvious. "As a battle companion. To have a sexual release."

Bulma felt like crying. Vegeta was ...oh the poor man! He didn't know the difference between sex and making love. He didn't know about romance or caring. And the reason he didn't want her mouth on vulnerable parts of his anatomy was because she might bite him!

"Saiyan women sound terrible."

Vegeta scowled, his pride stung. "They are ...were great fighters."

"I'm sure." Bulma said as she patted pockets to make sure she had a debit card on her, since she didn't have her purse. "Now. We're going out to dinner."

The Saiyan frowned at her. "We can eat at home." He protested.

"No. We're going on a date." Bulma announced firmly. "You are taking me out on a date."

Vegeta shook his head negatively.

She eyed him carefully. "That is, if you want me to ever tell that man 'yes' when he asks me."

Carefully he eyed her. "Will you marry me after this date?"

"No." Bulma gave him a cheeky grin. "But if you play your cards right, there might be sex." Yeah, sure. As if she was going to let him sleep alone after missing him for the past two weeks!

Vegeta stared at her, unsure. "I don't play cards, woman." Then scowled as she laughed at him.

.III

Bulma sighed as she watched her 'date'. The restaurant was wonderful. The candles on the table were great. It was the moronic Saiyan gobbling down plate after plate of food in the most uncouth manner possible that her her depressed.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?" She muttered to herself. "Sure. Date a Saiyan. Find out what makes him tick. Get to know him. Shouldn't someone with royal blood have something called table manners?"

The turquoise-haired woman sat up slowly as she realized that her date's movements were slowing down. Even their exhausted waiter seemed to relax a bit and took a moment to wipe his forehead with a handkerchief.

Prince Vegeta looked up, an indecipherable look on his face, then gave a very loud and long burp. Diners near them turned and stared. Bulma blushed all the way to her toes. But as embarrassing as it was at least he was finally done eating.

"More!" The dratted Saiyan gestured to the poor waiter who rushed to grab the empty bowls before tottering off under the weight of the dishes.

Bulma sighed and put her chin back in her hand, leaning on the table. Vegeta eyed her plate as he waited impatiently for the waiter's return. "Woman? Are you not hungry? You need to eat more!"

"Why? For the baby?" She said sarcastically.

Vegeta's eyes went wide.

Bulma rushed to deny it. "No, no! I'm not pregnant, I already told you that! I was asking if you wanted me to eat more so I could nourish a baby when I ...IF I get pregnant!"

The male gave her a puzzled look. "Why would you need to eat more for a baby?

"Never mind." She said grumpily. "I've just ...lost my appetite." Then again, he was asking about her well being, and that couldn't be all bad. "Thank you for asking though."

Vegeta grunted and whisked her plate from her side of the table and started eating quickly, finishing off what had been her nice fish dinner just as the waiter came running back out straining under the weight of even more food.

Bulma sat there, shocked and appalled. Then giggled. What could she do? The man obviously was hungry. Goku was the same way. She'd always thought Goku was an aberration, but maybe this was a racial thing. Maybe it wasn't completely a lack of manners, but a metabolism issue.

She sat up, suddenly curious. "Do all Saiyans eat too much?"

Vegeta eyed her as he shoveled more food in his mouth. He shrugged. "We never eat too much. You eat too little." Then he went back to his spicy noodles.

"Oh sure. Because we should judge everyone else based on how different they are from Saiyans, not how you all differ from everyone else in the universe!" Bulma watched as Vegeta ignored her, and reached for a stewed dish. She threw up her hands in disgust.

"Oh darling, how good it is to run into you!"

That voice. Bulma stiffened painfully as she sat up, not wanting to turn around. That horrid voice! The fake dulcet tone grated her last nerve. Acid suddenly started bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

"Bulma Briefs!"

No help for it. Pasting a smile on her pale face, Bulma turned. "Gummy!" Her tone was as fake as the other woman's curves. "How delightful!"

Guma Shinten bared her teeth in what was passing as a smile. She hated the nickname 'Gummy' and always had, ever since grade school.

"Bulma, dear heart. May I introduce my escort for the evening? The estimeed Dr. Cho Tsung who is guest lecturing at the University later this week. That's physics my dear." The patronizing tone was enough to make Bulma see red. How she held on to her temper was a minor miracle.

The turquoise-haired woman held out one hand for the doctor to greet her. "Of course, our guest lecturer's reputation precedes him."

The pasty and far too thin older man gave an imperious nod of his head. His wispy comb-over shining greasily in the lighting within the restaurant.

Guma laughed and patted her escort's arm. "He has agreed to come in early to interview for a position. A real coup, wouldn't you say?"

Bulma gritted her teeth. Guma's father's company was a rival to Capsule Corps. Not a serious one, no matter how hard they tried, but they were always trying sneaky underhanded ways to steal corporate secrets. And to get a leg up on Capsule Corps.

"No. No. I wouldn't say." Bulma said, pretending as if thinking. "Dr. Tsung hasn't published in three years and his grant money has dried up, otherwise he wouldn't be interviewing. Not to mention that scandal with his secretary." She made as if to whisper. "So uncouth."

Furious, Guma stamped her foot. "I will have that new polymer on the market before you, see if I don't!" She looked over at the oblivious Vegeta. "At least my escort is a civilized person and a gentleman."

Bulma stilled and prayed that Vegeta wouldn't burp again. Or talk.

She bid Guma and Dr. Tsung a goodnight, trying to ignore the headache threatening to start right behind her eyes. Stress. There was too much stress in her life.

And now Dr. Tsung was joining with Guma Shinten. Despite her earlier words, Bulma wondered about the timetable on the new polymer. The man was a sleaze, and arrogant to boot. But despite not publishing lately, he was a brilliant scientist. Could he give Guma enough of a boost to get ahead of Capsule Corps' schedule?

"I do not care for that woman."

The gruff words startled Bulma, who hadn't even realized that Vegeta had noticed their visitors.

"We have always been rivals." Bulma sighed. "Her father's company versus my dad's. Her date versus my date. Her grades versus my grades."

Vegeta frowned. "Her date was a walking stick with no muscles, no power, and no hair."

Bulma smiled sadly. "Mine is a beefcake with no manners."

The Saiyan frowned sharply, knowing it hadn't been a compliment. "What's a beefcake? And my manners are perfect. I didn't break a single dish."

Bulma closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Not breaking a dish? Yes. That seemed right for what passed as Saiyan manners. "No, you're right. All the dishes were in one piece."

"Now what is a beefcake? It sounds like food."

.III

Vegeta didn't even hesitate. He walked straight into her bedroom and took off his shirt as he headed to the bathroom.

Bulma sighed heavily and bent to pick up his shirt, putting it down inside the hamper. At least her headache was gone thanks to some extra-strength medication back at the restaurant.

But the pain in her butt was still here. And in her shower. Bulma shook her head as she heard the distinctive sounds of her personal Saiyan turning on the hot water.

She turned to grab her robe and stopped. There was a vase of tulips on her dresser. Tulips? Bulma smiled weakly and wondered what her mother was up to now. Knowing her mother, it could be anything. Still, the tulips were a nice change of pace from the daisies her mom had been stuck on lately.

Now. What to do about her Saiyan? Technically his things were still in her room, making it their room. She'd wager the last yen she had that he was expecting to sleep with her tonight.

She snorted softly. And why shouldn't he? Hadn't she halfway promised him sex to get him to take her to dinner? Like that had turned out well.

Bulma knew she needed to sleep somewhere else tonight. It would be best.

Only.

It had been two weeks without him ...and she wanted him. A lot. It pained her to admit it, even to herself. But her body just about ached for him. It was so trite. Weren't movie heroines always saying crap like that? 'I ache for you'. She'd always rolled her eyes or dismissed the thought.

Not now.

And she was on the pill now too. So. Safe as could be. Right? Somehow Bulma doubted that her heart was safe though.

Vegeta didn't know the difference between making love and sex. No clue. And she wanted to show him. Wanted to see his face as something other than arrogance graced his expression.

Only ...if she did that ...she'd have to keep him.

Bulma swallowed hard at the thought. To make love to someone, you needed to be IN love. Was she? No, she couldn't be.

Yet.

When the gravity chamber had exploded and she thought he might have died, her heart had skipped more than a few beats.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Startled, she jumped a bit. Bulma blushed, she'd been so deep in thought that she'd not heard the shower turn off.

"What manner of daisies are these?" The Saiyan looked over her shoulder a the dresser.

"Tulips." She corrected automatically even as she stopped his hands from slipping under her skirt. "Don't ruin this dress, I like it."

Bulma heard him chuckle, then felt a stinging slap on her butt. "Then you take it off, woman."

She turned around to tell him off, and then dropped her jaw slightly. He hadn't bothered to put on any clothing. Not one stitch. Apparently modesty was NOT a culturally sensitive subject to Saiyan males.

"Expecting a lot are we?" She said snidely.

Vegeta frowned. "You said after the date we could have sex."

"Oh. A date? Is that what it was?" Her earlier thoughts about making-love to him dissipated in her irritation. "That wasn't a real date!"

He glowered at her angrily. "You were in charge of the date! If it was bad, it's your fault!"

Bulma threw up her hands in defeat. "Sure. Whatever. All my fault. Not the fact that you have absolutely no manners!"

Vegeta drew back with an affronted look. "I have perfect manners!"

"For a Saiyan!" She yelled.

"Of course for a Saiyan, I AM ONE!" He roared back.

Bulma stopped and stared at him. "You ...you're right." He looked so human most of the time that perhaps she'd lost track of one very important thing. He wasn't.

Vegeta nodded arrogantly.

Table manners. Gruff ways. Sloppy habits with dirty clothes. Sex. All of it. Bulma's mind fairly reeled. For a Saiyan, he was probably acting normally.

Even names. He called her woman, not her given name. And that was the Saiyan way.

Boldly experimenting, she called to him. "Man?" She said it softly, then caught her breath as his eyes sent her a burning look and stepped toward her. "Vegeta?" The same tone. But now he hesitated, as if she hadn't called him to her.

"Woman?" It was a question.

Bulma hesitated, but then nodded at him. "On Earth, it is more intimate to call a person by their given name. When I call you Vegeta, it's personal."

He shook his head at her. "Kakkarot and Picallo call me Vegeta. Your father calls me Vegeta. What are you saying?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "It's a matter of context and tone."

"My way is better." Vegeta informed her. "Now woman, are you getting undressed or not?"

Bulma looked at him and wondered.

Sleeping with him was a bad idea. Not sleeping with him made her feel like panicking. Should she fall in love with him? Could she? Or had she already?

That was a thought for later. For tonight, the question was more immediate. What should she do?

"Woman?"

.III

Choices, choices! Hope you enjoyed. Not begging for reviews, but I do like hearing from people on how a story is doing.

THANKS for reading!