.::THREE::.

The next day, Vegeta was downstairs in his seat at the dining room table, staring holes into the back of the blonde woman as she flitted around the kitchen preparing his morning breakfast. Despite the horrible night he had with the bots attacking him and his dealings with Kakarot and the blue-haired woman, Vegeta had for once slept through the night and stayed asleep till morning, unlike his usual tossing and turning. He'd awoken restfully and, for once, had an optimistic outlook for the day.

The new quip the bots had of tossing his blast back at him consumed most of his thoughts this morning, and he'd spent a good portion of his time in the hot shower attempting to configure a new workout routine for himself today. Vegeta was eager to return to the gravity chamber to begin training with the rounded robots, hoping to find out if these might be the ones that benefit him instead of being a pain in his ass by breaking every few days like they had been doing for the past few months.

Vegeta cursed under his breath, wishing the blonde woman would hurry up with his meal. He was itching to get out into the gravity chamber, but with the injury he'd received last night, Vegeta knew he needed to refuel before beginning his strenuous workout.

Though his side had been tender when he'd laid down in his sleeping quarters this morning, he was pleased to report it barely had any pain at all. Placing a hand over the bandage, a slight pang of guilt shot down Vegeta's spine for his actions toward the human woman. He knew he'd taken it too far with her, but at the time, he'd only seen red and would have killed her, too, had it not been for that meddling fool Kakarot.

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed as the memories from last night recalled themselves to the forefront of his mind, causing the woman in the kitchen to look over.

"Did you say something, dear?" she questioned with a broad smile.

Vegeta stayed mute and looked away from her and out the nearest window. After a moment, pans began to rattle again, and Vegeta returned to staring holes into the back of her skull.

Kami, these stupid humans! Always smiling and, ugh, the friendliness!

Everyone was cordial with him even though he wasn't to anyone. The madness of these monkeys without tails baffled the Saiyan. The short male scientist always greeted him with kind words or friendly gestures. Even the humans who worked down in Capsule Corporation, though he could sense their cowardice, all respectfully bowed to him when he passed. Everyone tried to get along with him.

All except the blue-haired woman.

That stupid woman had given him attitude from day one. But now, after what he'd done to her last night, Vegeta doubted she'd ever talk to him again, and he was okay with that outcome. Hell, he was glad it had happened. She was annoying anyway.

"Here you go, dear. It's my famous breakfast udon!" the blonde woman said happily, sitting a bowl full of hot food before him. The delicious smell and her close presence pulled him out of his mulling thoughts. "Let me get ya' some OJ to go with that."

Vegeta sat still and waited until she finished serving him. He could hardly wait to eat; his stomach growled in protest.

Once she sat the yellow beverage next to his bowl, she smiled at him and said, "Alright, darling, let me know when you want a second helping. I made lots this morning!"

Vegeta replied nothing, then she walked away, and he began to stuff his mouth once she was out of sight. He mostly didn't know what he was eating whenever she presented him with a meal, but all he did know was that the food on Earth was superb, and it was the only thing he would miss once he finally destroyed the Earth and its inhabitants.

He was halfway through his third helping when the woman he almost killed last night began to stir in her sleeping quarters. Vegeta tried not to pay attention to her movements and continue his breakfast in peace, but he found he could not resist knowing her whereabouts as he ate.

As he slurped the last bit of noodles into his mouth, the blue-haired woman began descending the stairs. Vegeta quickly wondered if he needed to vacate the premises before she entered the kitchen, knowing his face would be the last one she'd want to see. Then he cursed himself for even thinking like that.

She was only a human woman; who cares what she thought of him? Like Kakarot, she was scum on the bottom of his boot. She didn't matter. Like a human would make him, Prince of the almighty Saiyan warriors, hightail it out of there just because they were coming down. Vegeta smirked; he couldn't wait until she noticed him still sitting at the dining room table. And he couldn't wait until she ran away from him in fear.

"Good morning, Mother," the blue-haired woman said as she entered the kitchen.

Vegeta was out the back door heading towards the gravity chamber before he heard the reply.

XxX

After breakfast, Bulma retreated back into her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed. She huffed and crawled underneath the comforter, the memories of the night before clouding her mind. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Placing a hand over her neck, she recalled the brutal encounter and wondered how she managed to hold it together during breakfast with her mother because, right now, she was on the verge of a breakdown.

She thanked Kami above that Goku had shown up when he had. He'd been her saving grace last night, and Bulma wouldn't allow herself to think about what would have happened if Goku hadn't shown up. Tears welled up in her eyes as shame and regret overwhelmed her. Bulma groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillows.

Everything that happened last night was all her fault. Bulma fully understood that everything that transpired between her and Vegeta was a direct result of her decision to rearrange the wiring within the bots. Otherwise, none of the painful consequences would have unfolded.

Bulma rolled over and stared at her nightstand, thankful she'd had the small bag of senzu beans tucked away in the top drawer. She'd eaten one as soon as she left Goku out in the hallway, and she'd been happy for a moment as she watched in the bathroom mirror the dark bruise around her neck fade away into nothing. But once she'd gotten in bed, it had taken her three hours and two doses of melatonin before she'd finally slipped into an unconscious and dreamless sleep.

She tossed the blanket off her and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, and rested her head on top of them. Bulma's thoughts were a tangled web of emotions. She'd been close to death before, but never at the hands of someone she was somewhat familiar with.

After what had happened last night, Bulma couldn't help but question the path she'd told Goku she'd tackle when she took the Saiyan with her back home for the foreseeable future. Vegeta had only been at Capsule Corp for only a few months, and he'd been a pain in everyone's ass so far. The man would be with them for years. Who knew the exact day the Androids were to arrive? How could they continue with his terrible attitude?

After taking in Vegeta, Bulma had spent a while uncovering anything she could find out about the Saiyan race. She delved deep into their heritage, hoping to understand the one living underneath her roof with her and her family. Despite being around one her whole life, Vegeta was an entirely different challenge compared to Goku.

In her research, she found that the Saiyan's nature appeared inherently savage, apparently ingrained in every single member of the species. This revelation made Bulma ponder his actions during the previous night's encounter. Looking at it specifically from a scientist's perspective, Vegeta had been subjected to a blind attack that he had not expected.

Bulma mulled that over. Now that she thought about it with a clearer mind, he'd come to her hurt and bleeding, and in all reality, his response had been driven by his instincts to protect himself, and he hadn't cared who'd it been in all honesty, Bulma thought.

Sighing, Bulma lifted her head from her knees and glanced at her nightstand. Once again, she was thankful that Goku had given her the bag of senzu beans. She'd been glad to be able to go down and face her mother at breakfast without having to conceal the large bruise that had grown around her neck. The small pouch of beans had been meant for Vegeta, anticipating the possibility of the Saiyan requiring urgent assistance one day.

Closing her eyes, she blew a breath through her nose. She was clearly aware of the impending threat posed by the Androids and Earth's desperate need for any capable ally. And knowing Goku her entire life, Bulma decided then and there to try and listen to the advice he'd given her last night. If Goku had glimpsed a different side of the Saiyan during their time on Namek, perhaps Bulma could eventually do the same. She took another deep breath and blew out through her nose, summoning a sliver of determination as she turned and placed her feet on the ground.

When she entered the bathroom, Bulma relieved herself and then took a quick shower, finally washing the remnants of Vegeta's blood and the dried hot chocolate from her skin. Once she had dried off, Bulma walked into her messy bedroom and searched through the clothes scattered across it. Finally, after finding some that passed the sniff test, she dressed, picked up her tennis shoes, and sat on the bed to lace them up.

Bulma then picked up her cell phone from the nightstand. Her eyes bulged as she noticed she had four missed phone calls, two voicemails, and three texts—all from Yamcha. Bulma shook her head in bafflement at her needy boyfriend and was impressed at herself that she'd slept through all of that. Without writing him back, Bulma stood and was about to put it in the side pocket in her leggings when it dinged—a text.

She wrote Yamcha back, explaining about the long night she'd had in the lab and the late hour she got in bed because of it. This was a lie, but there was no way she would ever tell Yamcha what Vegeta had done to her, and she hoped that Goku wouldn't say anything either.

Yamcha's reply was immediate, and not to her surprise, he completely ignored what she had written. He told her how his baseball practice went yesterday, about his broken garbage disposal that the landlord of his new apartment refuses to fix, and about his noisy neighbor who had thrown a party into the early hours of the night. Some penthouse apartment, she thought. Bulma replied with something generic, not into the conversation.

She stood and did a few stretches. With the night Bulma had endured, she had decided while in the shower this morning that she would take the day off from Capsule Corp and enjoy the new nature park that had opened in the town next to West City. A friend had recommended the new hiking trail it offered, saying it was beautiful this time of year. She slipped her phone inside the pocket of her leggings, looking forward to spending time outside in nature with just herself and some music. She needed this time alone to help process the trajectory her life would be taking if she were to accept Vegeta's violent nature.

Before leaving, however, Bulma's phone rang. She knew who it was immediately.

"Good morning, Yamcha."

"I'm so ready to see you later," he said desperately. "I've got lots planned for us tonight."

"Sounds fun," Bulma responded, her tone flat as her mind drew a blank.

Yamcha let out an exasperated huff, clearly catching on. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten about our date tonight?"

"Um... no. I haven't forgotten!" Bulma retorted defensively, even though she had. "I'm one of the world's greatest minds. What do you take me for, Yamcha?"

He laughed low and sensual; then his voice turned husky. "Well, good! I can't wait. I'll pick you up around... eight?"

Bulma rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan. Although she couldn't remember the specifics of their plans, she was sure it didn't involve a casual encounter in the bedroom or spending the evening cuddled up watching TV, something she would enjoy more.

"Eight sounds good." Bulma glanced at her watch, glad to know that she had at least ten hours to herself before she had to start getting ready for their date.

"I've made reservations at The Rio, the new steakhouse restaurant by the bay. Have you heard of it? Coach Aoki recommended it for their Wagyu steaks. And then," Yamcha paused, sounding a bit cautious, "maybe we can head over to that new club that just opened downtown?"

"Yeah, whatever you want to do, I'm fine with. I bought this new black dress last week, and I've been saving it for tonight," Bulma lied, then immediately felt guilty.

"Ohh..?" Yamcha purred on the other end of the line, eliciting a smirk from Bulma. "I can't wait to see it on you."

"I'll wear those favorite undies you like so much, too," Bulma added, liking the low tone her boyfriend's voice had taken.

A low growl escaped Yamcha from the other end of the phone, sending shivers down Bulma's spine. She rolled her eyes, sad that a simple conversation about underwear could illicit such a response from her body. It was a sharp reminder that they were way overdue for some intimacy.

Without warning, Bulma yawned, and like a switch being flipped, Yamcha's tone changed with her. "Are you working on those bots again for him today?"

Bulma rolled her eyes and let out an irritated huff. This was not the direction she was hoping their conversation would go in.

"If you must know," she began, taking a seat on the side of her bed, "I finished working on those yesterday."

Ever since Bulma brought Vegeta to Capsule Corp, Yamcha's jealousy had skyrocketed despite Bulma's assurances that she would never leave him for the pretentious monkey. But her long-time boyfriend never seemed to be able to let it go.

"I've told you countless times before that your dad needs to hire someone else to deal with Vegeta's mess. It shouldn't have to be you!"

Bulma sighed and hung her head. They'd had this conversation far too many times, and no matter how often she tried to explain to Yamcha that she didn't mind the work, her boyfriend always seemed to know what was better for her. The conversations now went in one of her ears and out the other.

"You didn't sign up to be Vegeta's servant," he remarked.

"I know that, Yamcha!" she retorted sourly.

"Apparently, you don't! Cause you continue fixing everything that monkey breaks!"

Bulma frowned, done with the conversation. She hurried off the phone after that, and when she hung up, Bulma flopped back onto her bed, frustrated with life and everything in it. She understood why Yamcha wasn't thrilled about another single man living under the same roof as her, but all this jealousy had just gotten downright annoying. After all the years they'd been together, Yamcha should at least trust her enough to work alongside Vegeta without constantly worrying if either one of them would make a move. It was ridiculous. Yamcha had met the Saiyan, after all. He knew how awful he was. Bulma could not fathom why Yamcha was so jealous.

Taking a deep breath to center herself, Bulma stood up and left her room. She couldn't wait to clear her mind at the park.

XxX

Later that evening, Panchy Brief bustled around the grand kitchen she adored as she prepared dinner for Vegeta. The Saiyan had become a permanent member of their household, and she didn't mind at all. In fact, she relished it. Having Vegeta around was the perfect excuse to put her lavish kitchen to use again, and she enjoyed showing off her culinary skills. With Bulma often eating out with friends and her husband usually working late and settling for leftovers, Panchy took great pleasure in presenting Vegeta with a new dish every time.

As she was adding salt to the dishes on the stove, the back door opened and closed. Panchy turned around to find Vegeta standing at the doors, his body glistening with sweat, breathing heavily. She couldn't help but feel concerned for him, knowing the immense strain he put on himself during his intense workouts in the gravity chamber. Poor boy, she thought, catching a glimpse of exhaustion in his eyes. Instantly, Panchy felt sorry for him, knowing he'd been out there for over ten hours.

"What are you staring at?" Vegeta scoffed.

"Oh, nothing, dear," Panchy stated as she batted a hand at him and then returned to the food. "Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't you go up to your room and freshen up?"

Without another word, Vegeta turned and headed toward the stairs in the hallway. Five minutes later, Bulma came down and entered the kitchen.

"Smells good, Mom. Whatchu' making?" her daughter asked as she sniffed the air, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

"Oyakodon," Panchy said. "Though I think I might have started this a little too late."

Bulma laughed. "Kami, I wish I could get that special kind of treatment around here."

Panchy felt appalled and turned around to face her daughter. "You know, all you have to do is tell me, and I'll make you whatever you want!" she reprimanded her daughter with a smile, pointing a spatula at her.

Bulma held up her hands and laughed. "Kidding! I'm kidding, Mom!"

Panchy laughed with her, then noticed her daughter's slim black strapless dress. "Where are you going with that on?"

Bulma smirked and looked down at what she was wearing.

"Oh, this old thing?" Bulma laughed, then looked over at her mother. "I could ask you the same thing!"

Along with her new golden high heels, Panchy was wearing a brand-new gold dress underneath her apron. She blushed, but before she could answer, her husband, Dr. Brief, strolled into the kitchen. As he adjusted his cufflinks on his tuxedo, he whistled appreciatively at the two women.

"You two look absolutely stunning!"

"Thanks, Dad," Bulma replied, rising from her seat to kiss her father on the cheek.

Dr. Brief embraced his daughter and beamed with pride. Then, taking a step back, he accessed her attire.

"Where are you going with that on?" he questioned his daughter, brow raised.

Panchy laughed as she stirred. "I asked her the same thing!"

Bulma blushed, then took her seat back at the island. "Oh, Daddy. Stop it," she said. "I have a date with Yamcha tonight!"

Dr. Brief winked at his daughter and then looked at his wife. "How did I end up with the two most beautiful women in the world?"

Dr. Brief glanced down at his watch. "Are you ready to go, dear?" he inquired.

Panchy frowned as she turned back around toward the stove. The time for their date had come, and she was only halfway done with the dish. She had underestimated the time it would take to cook.

A hand touched her shoulder. She turned to find Bulma beside her.

"Don't worry, Mom. I got it."

Panchy met her daughter's gaze, searching for reassurance. She knew her daughter wasn't on good terms with Vegeta and didn't want to make her feel like she had to finish making dinner for him.

"Are you sure?" Panchy asked.

"Yeah, don't worry, Mom. Go. Go on your date with Dad," Bulma replied, locking eyes with her mother.

Sporting a bright smile, she picked up the spatula and stirred the marinating chicken in the pan as if to prove it.

After a few moments, Panchy found comfort in her daughters' actions, feeling reassured.

"Thank you, honey," she said, kissing her daughter's cheek.

"You guys have fun," Bulma told them as she embraced Panchy.

"Oh, I think we might be a bit rebellious tonight!" Dr. Brief chuckled, then playfully swatted Panchy's behind as she took off her apron.

"Stop it, honey!" Panchy exclaimed, swatting her husband's hand in return.

As she walked out the front door toward their hovercraft, Panchy looked forward to the night out with her husband. She smiled at him as he started the engine, though inside, she was apprehensive about leaving Bulma alone to finish the meal for Vegeta.

XxX

Water droplets rolled off Vegeta's muscular frame as he exited the shower. He grabbed a towel off the rack and dried himself. Once done, he frowned as he realized that he could not sense the blonde woman anywhere on the premises. Vegeta hoped she had finished his meal before leaving for her sake.

Annoyed, he entered his large sleeping quarters and grabbed clothing from the dresser. As he slipped his legs through the pants' soft fabric, Vegeta's frown deepened as he now noticed the blue-haired woman was downstairs in the kitchen. He growled to himself, sat on the edge of the bed, and closed his eyes, not wanting to venture downstairs until she vacated the first floor. As minutes ticked by, it became evident that the irritating woman had no intention of leaving.

Maybe she was eating his food!

His eyes popped open. Vegeta stood and was out of his sleeping quarters within the blink of an eye. He took the stairs two at a time, and before he knew it, he was on the first floor. Vegeta entered the kitchen to find her not eating his food but standing before the stove, stirring whatever was inside the pan before her. His brows furrowed together in confusion as he watched her focus on the sizzling pans over the flames.

"It's almost done," she informed him before returning her attention to the food.

Vegeta arched a brow, his curiosity sparked.

Vegeta took his customary seat at the head of the dining room table and now had a clear view of the blue-haired woman. Watching her hand as she stirred the food, Vegeta's eyes caught sight of the golden jewelry adorning her wrist. Having never seen her wearing such, his eyes narrowed as they traveled up her arm and to her exposed bare shoulders.

For once, her blue hair was down and straight, a stark contrast to its usual messiness when tied up. Her face was also different, with various pigments on her cheeks, lips, and eyes. He'd never seen her look so... so...

Desirable.

His cock twitched within his pants, and he instantly frowned and looked away from her. The appendage between his legs was not something he wanted to associate with the blue-haired woman. But...

Vegeta swallowed and found himself cutting his eyes sideways in her direction anyway. She was dressed so differently.

His eyes fell from her bare shoulders and down over the form-fitting black dress. She was much smaller than her usual baggy clothes portrayed. Vegeta's gaze lingered over her backside for a moment, then continued its descent down to her toned legs, a physical trait he had not expected from her.

The blue-haired woman cleared her throat, and abruptly, Vegeta blinked and whipped his stare from her legs back to her face, where he found she was staring straight at him. A knowing smirk graced her lips as she had caught his lingering stare.

Vegeta redirected his attention out the nearest window, his eyes scanning the night sky in search of the Earth's moon. The woman laughed softly to herself, and with the sound of her pulling the pans from the stove, Vegeta took a chance and glanced back into the kitchen, avidly avoiding looking at her.

As she placed large spoons in each pan, she said, "Here you go, Vegeta."

She turned around and focused on the items in the sink, turning on the faucet. Vegeta continued sitting at the table, thinking that she would finally serve him his meal once she was done. A little while later, however, she began cleaning off the stove with a cloth, and he found that that wouldn't be the case. As he continued sitting, she looked over at him.

With a smirk on her lips, she asked, "What? Did you think I would serve you like my mother?"

She stuck something underneath the running water in the sink and then looked back at him over her shoulder.

"You're a big boy. You can get up and get it yourself." And with that, she turned her back to him and continued cleaning the kitchen.

The abrupt spike of anger was instant, and Vegeta immediately stood up, causing the chair he'd been sitting in to scrape loudly against the marble floor. His earlier appraisal of her was instantly forgotten. He watched as she jumped and dropped the spoon she'd been scrubbing in the sink. She turned around and looked back at him. She smirked darkly, making him want to wrap a hand around her slender neck again like he did last night.

"Who do you think you are, human, talking to me like that?" Vegeta questioned, his voice low and menacing.

She had the audacity to roll her eyes.

"Just come and get the food, Vegeta," she said, sounding bored as she pointed toward the steaming pans on the counter.

Then she gave him her back, turning her attention to the items in the sink that needed cleaning.

Vegeta moved then, walking slowly into the kitchen. He smirked when he realized halfway there that she wasn't paying him any attention.

When he was right behind her, he said softly, "Do we need a repeat of what happened last night?"

The plate she'd been scrubbing fell into the soapy water, and she straightened, surprised. She turned around fully, eyes wide, and with deliberate slowness, Vegeta reached out his hand, his fingers lightly encircling her throat. Against his palm, she swallowed, and he could feel the rapid thud of her pulse.

"No." She shook her head, her voice steadier than he'd expected.

Vegeta arched a brow, intrigued by her almost calm response. With his thumb against her jaw, Vegeta tilted her head slightly to the side, and she allowed him to move her head. He squeezed, applying slight pressure to her throat, testing the woman's determination.

"I'm not intimidated by you, Vegeta," she declared defiantly, her gaze locked onto his. Their faces were just breaths apart.

"Ah, but you will be," he declared with a smirk, his voice a low growl.

His grip around her neck tightened only incrementally, and he found he was actually enjoying the power he held over the defiant woman before him. Vegeta lifted his free hand beside her face, gathering energy to form a small ball of ki energy at the tip of his pointer finger.

The woman began slightly trembling underneath his hand at the sight before her. He could detect a small bit of fear as it coursed through her; it was evident in her blue eyes as she eyed the red glowing orb surrounding the tip of his finger. Vegeta's smirk broadened, ready to end her existence once and for all.