Bulma allowed her heavy lids to close and took a deep, slow breath. Her brows furrowed when the scent of fresh air failed to tickle her sense of smell. Opening her eyes, she looked at the cave ceiling, too high above her and obscured by darkness to actually be seen. Still, she kept her eyes open and unfocused. She was looking beyond the claustrophobia of the cave, anyway.

"Vegeta," she spoke in a whisper. It wasn't necessary. He was light years away and couldn't hear her. Not out loud, anyway. She felt his awareness shift and focus when she called his name, but he didn't answer. She was used to it. Vegeta wasn't very vocal. He tended to communicate with impressions, visuals, and emotions. At times, it was so subtle she could mistake his thoughts for her own. Other times, it was so overwhelming, she was certain he was using their telepathic link as a weapon.

Still capable of blocking her out – albeit with tremendous effort that left them both reeling in thunderous headaches – he only did so rarely. Sometimes, he simply ignored her. Rather, he allowed her to prattle on, responding every so often to things she would have imagined would be of no interest to him. Maybe he was mocking her…. But after a time, she learned. She could sense the nuances that made Vegeta uniquely Vegeta. She knew when he was truly listening because he was genuinely interested – even if he would deny it. They both knew those denials were out of principle, but she never argued with him. She could pluck anything she liked from the recesses of his mind, and he knew it. She never did, though. She would never betray him like that. Though she had never said so, she knew with certainty that he understood this and believed it.

She cherished his trust. He didn't trust her with many things, but he trusted her with his mind. It was daunting and it scared her. She didn't want to lose that trust, and keeping her nose out of his brain was growing more difficult as her telepathy grew in strength. Especially when she was tempted to snoop. So, to prevent an accidental breach, she pulled his mind into hers when they spoke. The first time had been unintentional. She had caught a stray memory as his mind drifted, and she had done the only thing she could to prevent herself from spying. She had flinched violently back into her own brain, calling up a memory of her own. It wasn't a true memory; it was one she had concocted as a little girl. A soft, golden breeze blowing spring leaves and willow wisps, shadows and secrets hiding amidst the ancient trees, a gurgling river splashing over rocks, pixie dust floating fat and free in the lazy afternoon, faeries clad in colorful flower petals and forest decorations dancing among the lilipads and pollywogs, jousting with each other using cattails for lances and dragon flies for mounts. It was magical and she always fled here to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin when she was lonely. It was a place she knew well, and she relaxed. It wasn't until she felt his irate attempts to mentally retreat from her enchanted hideaway that she had even realized she had pulled him into her own mind as she had fled his.

They had never manifested in such a way before, yet there he had stood before her, looking completely out of place and menacing. And just a little embarrassed. She had been embarrassed herself – not for showing her secret retreat, but because she had lost control of her telepathy. Again. Immediately, she had relaxed her grip on him, expecting him to tear away as quickly as he could. Instead, she was awed when he had lingered a few moments, looking into the landscape she had subconsciously created. He seemed... curious; though his eyes remained clouded with wariness – he was incapable of completely smothering out the wonder. His gaze had eventually found hers. He had seemed strangely peaceful in that moment just before disappearing.

It was somehow no surprise that when they manifested, which was exceedingly rare, that they would end up there. Her magic place.

She let her head fall to the side and looked at the place where Vegeta slept when he was here, which wasn't often. Once it was determined that she had control of Vegeta, their captors had started sending him out on missions with the other – she hated the word, but didn't know what else to call them -puppets. They always targeted the white lizard. Not directly. Rather, planets that were logistically valuable; planets with supplies, planets that controlled commerce, planets that trained fighters. Vegeta was becoming quite notorious for his over efficiency. They were supposed to go in, take out targets, and get out. Vegeta had other ideas.

Bulma allowed the Saiyan complete physical control over himself and concentrated on gathering intelligence using the incredible systems and networks she literally plugged into every time she was supposed to control Vegeta. It was amazing what she could do with computers. She had been a genius with them before – but now, she literally became one with the machines. All she needed to do was think, and information came to her. It was incredible.

She and Vegeta were unstoppable.

So much so that they were quickly becoming a target for retribution. So far, no one knew the identity of the destructive entity. So, there was no reason to stop. She could stay ahead of any pursuer and even divert them by implanting false information in their networks. Vegeta could keep doing what Vegeta so enjoyed. It was perfect. So instead of razing a place and disappearing, Vegeta, under Bulma's direction, would target persons of interest or networks that would provide useful information. Partially to cover any evidence and deny the enemy resources, and completely because he was Saiyan, Vegeta would then destroy everything on his way out.

At first, Bulma had protested. She refused to cause him physical pain - it felt like another method of betrayal – so she came up with unconventional methods to try and convince him. Inspired by whatever muse revealed itself within his current environment, she would find a soundtrack on her ipod-1290. She had smuggled it inside one of the charm capsules on the bracelet she wore and wholeheartedly believed that she'd trade everything else she had packed into those capsules for this single item. It drove Vegeta nuts. The first time she had used it, the stubborn asshole had been ignoring her increasingly aggravated demands to abandon his mission of hunt and go kill. Apparently, he intimately knew this particular planet and didn't need her help. Several former colleagues were still there and he wanted to say…hi.

When he had finally found the person he had been searching for, she could only watch. It felt as though the vacuum of space had sucked all the air out. Even the darkness seemed to tremble in the presence of a superior predator. The alien looked up with terror as Vegeta advanced….. and a brilliant idea had come to her. Flipping through the tracks on the music device, she found the perfect piece and excitedly taped the play button. She wasn't sure, but she had heard that the song was the introduction to a very old television show. Something to do with vampires. The words to this song flowed into her consciousness, and through their link, into Vegeta's.

"When you came in, the air went out. And every shadow filled up with doubt. I don't know who you think you are, but before the night is through, I want to do bad things with you…"*

Vegeta had halted his advance. She was certain that a confused, sour look just had to be on his face. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the offensive noises and Bulma laughed so hard she cried. Eventually, Vegeta had been able to exact his revenge, but she supposed the taste of victory had curtled in his mouth just a little bit. She knew she was going to pay for it, but it was well worth it. She supposed he realized she felt this way – they were linked after all – so instead of a brooding silent treatment or the inevitable head ache that came whenever he tried to push her out of his head, he had surprised her. Sure, he was flustered… but it was his amusement… that shocked her. He never admitted it. But they both knew it. On the surface, he had pretended the whole incident had never happened – like refusing to acknowledge it would encourage her to become bored with and eventually abandon it.

Wrong.

Since that time, she'd find an appropriate piece of music to fit any and all events. It was like their own soundtrack. She'd play the Mission Impossible theme when he was sneaking into a compound, Darth Vader's Death March when he came upon a group he wanted to intimidate – and inappropriate, obnoxious songs when he was fighting or destroying things. The best example of her little game was when Vegeta had come across an alien with obvious gender identity issues - unless that species of alien naturally looked like the societal fringe-clinging drag queens on Earth - and the alien had tried to speak to the Saiyan. The noises that she couldn't make herself believe was an actual language had made her blush with how indecent it sounded. Vegeta had also thought the language was appalling – so naturally, Bulma played "Talk Dirty" by an ancient rap group. That had even elicited a laugh from the usually grumpy Saiyan, though he had tried to disguise it as a cough. Most of the time she sensed his disgruntled tolerance, but every so often.. just maybe… she thought he didn't mind it so much. Once he had asked her how she was able to recall music with such clarity that he was able to hear it. She had told him then of her music contraption.

"It's my iplease," she had said with frivolous unconcern.

When she felt his puzzlement, she had laughed. "It's called that because I do as I please. So suffer it, Saiyan!"

He had snorted, but had never commented or complained. Sometimes, times like right now, she would feel his mind brush up against hers and she knew. She'd play soft, sad music until they drifted to sleep.

But, she couldn't sleep. She should be exhausted. They had completed another mission – the second to the last before Vegeta was scheduled to return to the asteroid. It had been months, this time. Though she supposed she should be more concerned for herself, weak and alone in a cave full of warriors who would love nothing more than to tear apart one of their puppet masters, she was unafraid. She was left alone. She did worry about Vegeta, though. She shouldn't, she knew. But… the idea of him dying out there made her guts feel like pudding. What if he died and she was inside his mind? Would her own mind feel like it was dying? Could she pull away to protect herself and let him die alone? Without him, would she ever get out of here?

She shoved the thought from her mind. The mission was over, and a success. The infrastructure of the planet was utterly annihilated. The parts that belonged to the lizard, anyway. Vegeta, for a change, wasn't being sent to kill innocents. Somehow, it didn't surprise her that, though he could kill easily and indiscriminately, he was quite indifferent to it. He was violent – but violent in the way of a warrior. He thrived in blood lust and battle, but he felt nothing when faced with the act of killing. Months ago, she might have believed this as cold and heartless. Now – now she believed he'd prefer not to kill. Maybe it wasn't for any lack of evil that thrived on suffering, but rather from a lack of a reason compelling enough for him to bother - but hey, it was something. Not that he'd wait for people to get out of the way. But at least he didn't go out of his way to target people, either.

She closed her eyes and again tried to smell the air he breathed. This time, he allowed it. Or didn't prevent it, anyway. Her heart lifted. It had been more months than she could remember, stranded in the darkness and staleness of the asteroid. Come to think of it… she frowned.

Vegeta. Why is it that whenever you're out and about, it's nighttime? I haven't seen the sun in so long I can barely remember it.

He grunted and shrugged to himself. It was a rhetorical question. Of course you infiltrate an enemy compound under the shroud of darkness. She knew this so he didn't bother answering. But. He understood her nostalgia. Many times in his life he had been deprived of light. For a Saiyan, whose home world had three suns, it was particularly difficult to adjust to constant darkness. It had been weeks since his own exposure. A strange sensation tickled the animal within him. He knew the feeling for what it was, but he had never felt it for anyone other than himself. He actually empathized with the human. Tilting his head to examine the emotion, he rolled it around his mind, careful to keep it hidden. When he made a decision, the emotion faded as though it were no longer needed.

Standing from a crouch on the skeletal beams of ruins he had created, he jumped to the ground and walked into outlying fields. The plants were some sort of grain, and he allowed the stalks to brush against his fingers. They parted as he walked and flowed back into place behind him. When he had pushed through to the center of the greenish-gold sea, he stood and looked all around. Undulating in the wind, it really did appear that he was in the middle of an ocean, lit by a bright, fat moon. The thought compelled him to turning his gaze to the sky so he could look at the moon. It wasn't full, but the pull of ozaru just under his skin was almost painful. Accustomed to this, he suppressed the beast and cleared his mind.

Bulma's eyes flew open and she stiffened. Around her, a sea of rust red infiltrated her senses in the form of boulders, sand, and thrilling plants that twisted in defiant angles and reached their proud branches towards the sky. Their plumage was magnificent and glowed in colors she had never seen. In fact, she discovered confused, everything had a strange glow. She tried to turn her head and found that she couldn't. Growing alarmed, she subconsciously reached out for Vegeta and felt a mental oof when he was much closer than she had realized. Almost like he were standing behind her close enough to breathe down her neck. Closer? In fact..

Vegeta is this..?

She could sense his affirmative. Slowly, he relaxed his mental grip on her and she was able to move about the physical manifestation of his memory. The illusion wasn't complete; only her thoughts were present; she couldn't interact with the environment, but she could look around.

She was awed. The sky was a brilliant shade of violet, almost as if it were dusk. Turning, she saw three suns, two that were firey-red and seemed so close she could reach out and touch them, and one a distant, white pin prick in the sky. Three suns… so why was it so dark? She moved towards a copse of trees and plants, stubbornly growing out of the jagged rocks in formation surrounding a small pool. The water seemed thick, like it would resist with more fervor than the water of Earth, should she try to push her finger through the surface. There were flashes of dazzling colors sparking on and off like lightning bugs around the thrushes and plants. They flashed in bright reds and blues and streaked patterns of light that faded after a few moments of life. The very air seemed to sparkle in a breeze that smelled like the electricity of a lightning. It reminded her of an approaching storm while drifting on the sea, glowing plankton swirling around the wake of a ship at night. Only – it was broad daylight.

Bulma paused, thinking furiously. It was clear to her that Vegeta was sharing a memory of the suns of his planet. But before she could succumb to the immensity of this gift, the scientist in her needed to understand something.

Vegeta, she thought to him. Why does everything glow? It's almost like – She swallowed her words in surprise. Excited, she continued. You see in infra-red, don't you?

She felt his grin and her own smile widened. Like a child, she ate the scenery like it were candy. It was.. it was… magnificent, she whispered reverently.

When she returned to her own mind, it took her a moment to compose herself. She suddenly felt heavy and depressed. To see something so glorious just to be displaced to a place so barren and empty, dark and featureless was almost more than she could take. She mourned for a moment, but forced the sadness to the back of her chest cavity.

Do you always see in infra-red? She asked, almost timidly, still at war with her emotions.

He considered her before answering.

No

Frustrated, she frowned. Typical. Getting him to speak was – she had half a mind to believe he did it on purpose just to piss her off.

He laughed.

Hmf. The only way to get him to talk was to distract him and hit the target from a different direction.

On Earth. The mask you were wearing. What was its purpose if you can see in the dark?

He paused. Then shrugged.

The mask enabled me to see through certain elements. It also chemically converted the local atmosphere into breathable oxygen. He grunted before adding, It filtered visible light and altered it to appear in any spectrum I thought provided a suitable advantage.

Sheesh, Bulma thought, making certain the thought wasn't overheard. He doesn't speak. But when he does speak, he has to choose the most ridiculously flowery words he possibly can. She grinned to herself.

And you took off your mask in that alleyway. So – she twitched when she realized something. If you hadn't removed it, you'd have been able to see through the smoke on the edge of that crater. You'd have seen that blast coming before it hit you and dodged.

When he responded with silence, she had to swallow a ball of guilt. It wasn't as difficult as she'd have believed. He saved her life by standing in the path of that blast. If he had seen it coming, she wouldn't be alive.

She shoved that thought away easily. Probably because another thought assaulted her. One where she darted into the alleyway like a terrified, muddied pig, wondering what she had looked like as she did so. She lowered her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose.

If you could see me in any visible spectrum, why did you bother to take off your helmet to look at me?

She felt his surprise followed by annoyance at being surprised – right before everything was abruptly cut off by a mental wall. Oh, what a baby. Every time she caught on to something interesting, he had to hide it away. God, he was a pain in the ass.

She concentrated on the wall and imagined it to be physical – at least, that's how she shut him out when she didn't want him listening in. If it were physical, it was easier for her mind to hold. Ideas slipped away without something to anchor them. So, she pictured a big, stone wall that stretched upwards and out of sight. Stones of speckled granite and cracked lime covered in moss, bleached lichen, vines clinging and crisscrossing as far as the eye could see in all directions. This was her wall. She leaned her ear against it, as if to listen for sounds coming from the other side. Stepping back, she raised a hand and touched one of the cold stones and wondered if Vegeta pictured a physical wall, or if he could keep her out simply using sheer will. The wall vibrated where she touched it and became warm. She couldn't be certain, but for some asinine reason she suspected Vegeta was standing on the other side – his fingers resting on the very same stones as her own.

She scoffed at herself. He's right, Bulma. You are a ridiculous human.

Turning from the wall, she began to walk away when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She stopped. Slowly, she answered his unasked question by nodding. Yes. She really wanted to know. Why remove the mask?

I wanted to see you without obstruction.

His uncertainty, frustration, disbelief, and above all, curiosity from that night filled her. Why had Radditz chosen this human? What made her so special? He had removed his mask to see her as she truly was with his own eyes.

Bulma saw herself through those eyes. To her surprise, she appeared normal. When he had said he didn't always see in infra-red, she thought it had been his mask that enabled him to see as she did.

She tucked the thought away for later scrutiny as her focus was pulled once more to Vegeta's point of view – she was looking at her own face. She remembered feeling disgusting and beaten down. She knew she had been smeared in blood and dirt. She had known she was covered in soot and half her skin was torn and crusted with things she didn't care to remember.

But –

Vegeta hadn't seen those things. Or rather, he had looked past them as if they were of no importance. Physically, he had seen her as weak – but delicate in a way that seemed worthy of protecting. That had surprised him, but he dismissed it easily as if the information were irrelevant. Aside from that, and an acknowledgement that she was physically appealing, he hadn't given much attention to her appearance. He had seen her as – captivating – worthy of granting a few moments of distraction. She was contradictory; there was innocence there, but also a fierceness that bespoke an understanding of all that was far from innocent. How could that be?

She was… a beautiful plumed bird in a cage; defiantly bright and saucy, daring to flaunt her song fearlessly despite the hopeless bleakness around her. She knew darkness surrounded her. She… simply refused to let it touch her. Everything he knew demanded such a creature to break under such circumstances. Yet, somehow, she thrived. Even the darkness around her seemed unwilling to crush this tiny spark.

Something within him had quaked in the face of such ferocious refusal to submit. Such a powerless being should be full of fear - lay broken and defeated at his feet – yet somehow, just like she had done with the darkness, she had stolen his will. For a moment, he had forgotten his rage.

Right then, he had felt exposed – but the sensation hadn't been unpleasant. The feeling was unfamiliar. Frieza could reach inside his soul and twist, but the lizard's clawed fingers found the Saiyan spirit like water in his hands. It flowed away and couldn't be held. Yet this ridiculous human, just for a fleeting, half-formed moment, had captured the beast within – and the beast had rejoiced.

The sensation hadn't lasted long. Vegeta had tasted it, rolled it over in his mind, then had let it go in favor of disgust. How dare those oddly shaped, impossibly colored eyes look right into him and ignore his darkness? His strength?

His disgust was directed at himself, he knew. She had seen the only part of him that he hadn't learned to fully control, and that part of him wanted freedom. Indignant, he had abandoned her there.

He left the scouter with her. It was more hers now, anyway; a prize she had won. Plus he didn't need the reminder of what must have been some kind of failure. A loss of pride? Who knows. He didn't care so he turned to leave. He still didn't know precisely why Radditz had chosen her – the entire point of paying her the compliment of studying her was for naught. He had gained no answers despite the memories he had taken from her. Begrudgingly, he admitted that Radditz had in fact chosen her, even if the reason remained a mystery. There was nothing more for him to learn so Vegeta had simply accepted that Radditz, like his father, could see glimpses of the future and had discerned that this woman was important to his future in some way. Or so Radditz believed. Vegeta had dismissed the notion and flown off… even if the scent of the woman lingered to tease his nostrils and piss him off.

The memories – and the vision of herself through his eyes – faded. The air was thick with tension. Bulma didn't think it had been his intention to allow her that much insight into his memory. Not knowing what else she could do to diffuse the strain – and because she didn't want the awkwardness – she completely ignore it. Instead, she turned to face the mental projection of Vegeta. She wasn't sure whose mind they were in, but she supposed it didn't matter.

So. You can choose when to see in infra-red and when not to without your helmet. She bounced on her toes and flicked her eyes up and down the length of his form before focusing on his stoic gaze. She narrowed her eyes and studied his face. It was incredible how stony and unreadable his expression could be. What an ass.

How can you see in two different wave lengths with only one set of eyes? She finally blurted.

He shifted his weight and lowered his chin slightly. Then, he blinked rapidly. Twice? No. Three times, in quick succession. It almost appeared as though his eyes had changed from black to red, then black again. It startled her and she stepped back. Huh?

He grinned and lifted his chin.

I close my secondary lids.

This time, he blinked more slowly and Bulma could see what he meant. Her jaw dropped. Like a crocodile, Vegeta had a set of thin membranes that acted like a second set of eyelids. They made both of his eyes look entirely red.

She stepped forward and reached her hands to his face. So enthralled, she didn't even notice him clench his jaw at her presumption that she could breech his personal space – let alone touch him. He rolled his eyes under the red membranes knowing she couldn't see it. Though he could see perfectly – these lids acted like a filter that allowed him to see in infra-red – he knew all she could see where the red color of the lids.

She pulled at the flesh surrounding an eye to peer at the round eyeball underneath. If she heard him growl, she pretended not to notice. Knowing this would be over much more quickly if he just allowed her to satisfy her curiosity, he tolerated her. She looked ridiculous with her mouth hanging open and her eyes star struck. What an imbicile he thought, not entirely unamused.

Do they protect you from getting stuff in your eyes when you're flying? If a planet has an incompatible light spectrum, are you blind? Can you really see in the dark? Can you see in white light spectrum with one eye and infra-red with the other one at the same time? Do the suns of your planet project white light and that memory was one with your lids down, or where your lids up and that's what your planet looks like naturally? Do all Saiyans have that, because I don't think Goku has ever done it.. maybe he doesn't know he can? What do -

He gripped her hands and pulled them away from his face and gave her a sour look, thinking it was a mistake revealing something that would invoke her scientific interest. She got the point and clicked her teeth shut. Blinking up at him, embarrassed, she realized what she had been doing. Slowly, she pulled her wrists from his grasp and stepped backwards to put distance between them. He responded by crossing his arms in front of his chest.

They stared at each other for a time. She still had sooo many questions, but wisely kept them to herself. He was still annoyed, but it was almost worth it considering how uncomfortable he knew it for her to remain silent after such a revelation. He cocked his head at her. Well. It was this or go back to the belly of the star ship and stare at the pitch blackness of the room he shared with dozens of retched aliens. Even with infra-red, it was too dark to see much.. but he could hear them. And smell them.

He chose to humor the human.

First, my planet no longer exists. Frieza destroyed it when I was little more than a cub. I have few memories of my own. The image you saw was a memory given to me by Nappa; the last of our race with whom you've not been acquainted.

Bulma stiffened but refused to allow further reaction of any kind. It was rare that Vegeta volunteered information and she didn't want to blow it. Besides. Anything she did would likely be seen as mockery – especially if it was sympathy. Instead, she tried to remain as neutral as possible and waited for him to continue. He narrowed his eyes, now unlidded, and peered at her. When she didn't respond, he continued.

Two of Vegetasai's suns were such that infra-red was the natural spectrum. One sun was as your Earth's, but was very far away. When the twin suns dominated the skies, we had no use for our secondary lids. When the twins slept and only a solo star provided light, it was too dim to see and our secondary lids compensated for that lack.

She nodded enthusiastically and gestured for him to continue. He smirked.

I occasionally fly with my lids closed for reasons that you should be able to ascertain on your own, as they are obvious. As with any planet, vision is dependent upon the light of its star – there are many that are incompatible to Saiyan eyes, which was one benefit of wearing a mask that could alter visual spectrums. I am able to see in near darkness, but I am blind when darkness is complete - however, my other senses more than compensate; your human reliance on a single sense is deplorable. Although it is possible, I fail to understand the relevance of closing one lid while the other remains open – if necessary, I would simply alternate between open lids and closed. As for your last question, no. Not all Saiyans have a second lid. Most who did not spend their first years on Vegetasai had no use for them. Like our first and second set of teeth, the lids fell out if they were not used.

Bulma suppressed a grin. He looked so arrogant standing there, reciting his heritage. The smile faded as she was reminded that his heritage ended with him. With new perspective, she reassessed the Saiyan standing in front of her. It wasn't arrogance. Though he had iron shad pride, that didn't apply here. It was as if he were simply reciting what he knew to be undeniable truth. Her smile returned. If one percent of the Saiyan race was like this Prince, they had every right to be cocky – for no other reason than they could utterly back it up.

When he saw her grin, his lip curled in suspicion. Taking a menacing step forward, he balled his fists in an unconscious challenge. Thinking fast, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

What do I look like in infra-red?

Startled, Vegeta stopped advancing. Unbidden, his memory flooded her senses.

She couldn't be certain, but she believed it was the moment he had seen her sleeping after returning from his first time on the asteroid's surface. It was when she had been returned after days recovering in the regen pod – the one that had been infused with Saiyan DNA.

She supposed his secondary lids had been closed because he had been fighting on the dark side of the asteroid. That would make sense – he'd be able to see much better. He hadn't bothered to open them when he returned to the cavern. That's when he had seen her.

She… glowed.

The blue of her hair seemed lit from within; a turquoise that fell over the rocks on which she slept in silk waves. Her skin was white and flawless, so ethereal she could believe she was moonlight. She seemed so unreal – a phantom spirit peeking through the fog on the cavern floor like she was nothing more but pure light refracting within the mist.

She had never seen anything so hauntingly beautiful. Her chest ached.

Right before it filled with rage.

The urge to slaughter her warred with the desire to –

Bulma staggered back with the force of the wall slamming into her mind. Falling to her back, she winced in pain. Her body refused to move, which was odd since she was nothing more than a mental image of herself. She forced her eyes open – her real eyes - and instantly regretted it. Though she was still on her back in the cavern – ironically in the same spot she had just seen herself occupy through Vegeta's eyes – her mind felt far away. Blessed be because when she woke up, she'd have one hell of a headache.

Barely able to form thoughts, she drifted into unconsciousness. But not before wishing with all she had left that Vegeta's hangover would be a thousand times worse than her own.


"Bad Things" by Jace Everett from True Blood

"Talk Dirty" by Jason Derulo

Apologies for the delay in updating. I just got home from Afghanistan ;) Lots on my plate so keep me motivated!