Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK:)

:fans cheer "Finally! We thought you died!":

The Perfect Flaw

Chapter XX

The entire flight was silence.

Well, save for the vicious wind that tore past them.

Bulma felt so . . . confused. She couldn't decide whether she was angry, o-or shocked . . . a strange feeling swirled like a brewing hurricane inside her stomach, menacing and dark. Why was this happening? Why now? She . . . she couldn't seriously like him!—

could she?

No. No no no no no no. Impossible. This was the Saiyan Prince she was talking about— the most ruthless, most evil, strongest being in the universe next to Freeza. But . . . why was it suddenly so hard to see that? It was like, even though she thought this in her head, repeating it over and over, when she looked at him— she could only see the guy who had so passionately kissed her last night. Heh, it was funny associating that kind of stuff with Prince Vegeta. But alas, it was the truth. He had kissed her he had kissed her he had kissed her he had kissed her.

And she had kissed him back . . .

No—

And how dare he! Arrrgh! How dare he have the nerve to just act like nothing had happened! How could he? How could he so easily push it to the back of his mind? Or was it true, that Saiyans did in fact have superior control over emotions? Because, hell, she sure wasn't finding it as easy to just— forget about it!

And it was all the more frustrating, knowing she couldn't dare risk mentioning it to him. Who knows what his reaction would be.

But, thought Bulma suddenly, had he truly forgotten about it?

Now there was a thought.

Rumor had it that Saiyans were the most advanced when it came to controlling the heart (as far as emotions go anyway), that they had a permanent mask which portrayed only anger or impassiveness, that in the entire history of Planet Vegeta, not one Saiyan had ever shed a tear, or shown remorse or sadness . . . or love.

But just because no emotion was displayed . . . doesn't mean he wasn't feeling it . . . inside. Could it not be possible, that perhaps, he in fact was thinking about it? At that very moment?

Was he thinking about her? Was he incessantly reliving that kiss in his head, as she was?

Oh, dear God, she wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tug at her hair. If only she weren't immobilized by Vegeta's iron grip—

his warm, strong, secure, iron grip—

Ah! No! Stop it! stop it now! Don't you see? He doesn't care about you! You're just cargo. Now get ahold of yourself! He's just toying with your emotions. He doesn't care about you— and you don't care about him.

But I do! Help me, God, I do!

You don't!

I do! Please! Please! I just want this feeling to go away! This can't be happening to me! I hated him! I absolutely loathed him!

Hated . . . loathed . . .

Past tense.

Suddenly, subconsciously, a whimper wrenched itself from Bulma's lips. Vegeta's head whirled, and he looked at the woman in his arms, puzzled, his glare caught up in a mixture of annoyance and surprise.

But little did he know, she was just as surprised as he was. As hard as Bulma tried to fight it, she could rapidly feeling the color that rose to her cheeks as she struggled to find an explanation. "I . . . I— er— it's just— really cold."

Well, she wasn't lying. It was freezing up here, even with Vegeta's ki-charged body warmth. But it wasn't the real reason.

Vegeta's lips twitched slightly, and Bulma blinked while trying to interpret what it meant. She supposed it was probably annoyance, mostly, but her guess was as good as anybody else's.

"Well, perfect timing. We're here," he said, turning back to face the wind. Then he chuckled. She never would have been able to hear it over the wind, but she knew, because she felt the rumble in his chest as it transferred into her chest, like an echo. And boy, it sent an army of butterflies straight down to her stomach.

She was so preoccupied with warding off the tickle in her abdomen, that she hardly even noticed when ground was under her feet.

However, she noticed right away when the body heat she'd become so familiar with retreated from her.

"H-hey!" she called as she rushed after Vegeta's receding form.

He was reaching inside his armor for the Radar by the time she caught up with his stride, and her eyes locked upon its red, polished surface, as though she were a child just having spotted a red balloon.

But Vegeta paid her no attention, as his eyes instead fell upon the rich forest that lied ahead. "It's in there somewhere," he stated absently, mostly to himself.

And suddenly, a dim feeling of recognition stirred inside Bulma, as she noted the faint puffs of smoke which floated up above the trees, only to fade discreetly into the blue sky.

Why . . . was it so familiar?

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A/N: Miss me? Haha, you probably hate me! I know I get mad when someone hasn't updated in what seems like decades, and then I forget what their story was even about, and I get mad cause then I have to go back and read from the beginning, and then— yeah, you get my point.

Believe me, I really was trying. First I stopped writing, cause my German exchange student was here for like two and half weeks. Then, after she left, I sat down at the computer, and was like, "Okay, now I can write," and then would you look at that! I had writer's block. Nooooo! Curse you writer's block! Plus, I got really busy, and I mean, really busy.

But anyway, I felt really good about this chapter (except for the length. Sorry for it being so short again, folks, but this is where I'd initially planned to end the chapter, so here it ends.). I found it pretty easy to write it, cuz frankly, I'm going through the exact same emotions Bulma is right now. So I felt like I was just pouring my emotions on paper, in third person of course.

Hmm: taps chin thoughtfully: anything else?

Oh, yeah . . .

9 REVIEWS PLEASE! (177) C'mon, you don't want me to stop this far into the story, do you?