OMG. Has it really been that long since my last update? Shit guys, I'm so sorry. Screw that, I cooked one up for you! It's not really a question again.

Vegeta stood in tense silence, his mind running through calculations and and possible scenarios in which could occur, and finding theoretical ways in which he could deal with them (which mostly involved lighting up a ki blast or jumping out the window in a desperate escape attempt) and taking a deep breath, he slowly took a step forward, and lightly pushed the door open.

"Woman?"

There was no response for a short while, only sighs from the darkness, and Vegeta could see how the small lamp illuminated the woman's figure, which was hunched over her messy desk lacklusterly, and he could see the reflection of the bottle she was clutching in her hand - alcohol, he supposed from the smell.

"Vegeta? What are you doing here?"

He didn't reply, and his eyes subconsciously shifted to the shut double-glass window that was on the wall just above her desk, blinds covering it and letting in hardly enough light to make out her features.

"Vegeta?"

He took a deep breath, but didn't say a word, and Bulma pursed her lips, filling in her own reason for his presence, "thanks for coming to check on me, you know. I'm fine."

He almost growled aloud, Vegeta derated himself for being so transparent in front of the woman, and he took a few steps forward to look over her head, and could see Yamcha and her in a picture frame just smiling at the camera, he supposed it was dated a few years back as she looked far younger and less mature.

Bulma looked up and followed the general direction of his gaze - it was far too dark to tell exactly what he was looking at - and her eyes landed on the poorly taken photograph by the sloppy phone camera from when she was seventeen and sexy - still was, she chuckled inwardly - that she had displayed on her desk, Bulma smiled almost longingly and she cocked her head to look at the Prince's unreadable expression, "we decided it wasn't working out."

"Is that why you're walking in the darkness, sobbing over your lost relationship?" He remarked almost snidely, and cast a disgusted look at the photograph, Bulma opened his mouth to reply but he cut her off, "he's not worth your time," he snapped, too angry, and Bulma could have sworn it was a compliment.

"Vegeta," she sighed, "I'm not crying over him."

"Bullshit," the saiyan snapped and he reached over to flick on the lights, before Bulma could stop him.

"NO!"

The heiress slumped disappointedly over her desk, and Vegeta could see the other miscellaneous items that were scattered haphazardly around, and she sighed, "and I was just going to finish, too."

"I wasn't wallowing in my sorrow, if anything Yamcha should," she snorted, "I was working on a project that needed to be kept in the dark," Bulma shook her messy blue curls out of her hair, "but someone ruined it, so I have to restart."

There was a pause, as Vegeta's brain worked to catch up, and… "what?"

Bulma giggled at his face, a confused adorable pout, and she flipped her hair, "you know, I can't stay mad at you," not with your adorable expression, she wanted to add, "and besides, it was nice of you to come check up on me, thanks," she grinned up at him, "I appreciate it."

Vegeta felt a blush creep up to his cheeks, and he shook it away with a muttered "whatever" and stalked off, leaving the heiress to her thoughts.