The next few days, all it did was rain. It was as if a giant spider that had been lurking in the corner of their dark minds had been stomped on, trampled, and killed- once and for all.

Or so they thought.

Vegeta found her lying, cold and wet with lines of blood draped over her lithe, pale body at the foot of the stairs as he panicked frantically searching for her. He instantly picked her up in his arms, took her to the bathroom and drew a warm bath for her shivering body. She was barely awake, or even aware, of his presence or what he was doing. He felt so peculiar, caring for someone else. But he knew, he could feel, the lack of Frieza's presence in the once haunted house.

As she sat in the warm water, still in her clothes, she began to awaken. Her memory was absent and so was her personality, but Vegeta was certain she had undergone a traumatic experience with the horrible villain that had once reigned over their entire lives and families.

Sunlight began to shimmer through the windows, marking the onset of dawn. Vegeta was used to losing sleep, so he stayed there. He stayed until she suddenly gasped, her bright blue eyes opening with a kind of panic as her mouth cried out, "Vegeta!"

"What?" He questioned, slowly creeping near her as her chest began to rise and fall in sharp, rapid spurts. Her shoulders shook slightly and developed a blanket of goosebumps. He slowly released a hand towards her, allowing his fingers to caress the cold, wet flesh. Then she stopped shaking. She stopped everything, freezing as if someone had put a gun to the side of her temple. As if in slow motion, she turned to gaze at him from the side, her eyes wide with fear and wonder.

"Vegeta... Is he-...?"

All he could do was nod before she leapt from the tub and onto his body, drenching him with water as she claimed his lips with hers. The two rolled on the floor of the bathroom, feeling their bodies awaken from the sullen storm of fear, chaos, and panic in the turbulent house. Bulma let out a string of giggles as Vegeta dipped his head between her breasts, licking at the slick skin of her cleavage. They felt so alive, so entertwined with each other in the bathroom, dimly lit by the soft, golden rays of dawn's sunlight.

So they made love. For hours, they occupied themselves with each other's body to release the horrid tension of the last couple months. Vegeta clawed at her soft, porcelain skin as Bulma ground her teeth in sheer pleasure, trying to keep her thunderous moaning to a minimum. Needless to say, she failed eventually.

The house was quiet and illuminated. There were no more sudden noises, flashes of dead people, or walking zombies in the back yard. Bulma slept soundlessly, restfully, and Vegeta watched over her, memorizing every line and every curve on her youthful, beautiful face. He felt as if nothing had ever happened, that it had all been a dream- a nightmare, rather- and that he had just simply woken up to find her at the foot of the stairs.

He remembered very foggily the past where he was willing to hurt her to keep her safe. Nowadays, he couldn't keep his hands off of her but he cringed at the very thought of her even feeling pain. He wished nothing more than to be the one to kill the bastard, but he knew it had to be her. He knew since it was her house and her beginnings...

"Vegeta..." She chirped one night later that week, her eyes shining with a curiosity he knew all too well.

"Yes?" He rose an eyebrow. Smiling, she cocked her head to the side. Always her start to asking a question.

"So.. Let me get this straight. My parents die in a huge fire but that asshole gets burned too."

"Correction, woman: He was killed."

"Okay, so he was like, haunting my house... No one could find me so they presumed me dead. And then what?"

Vegeta looked away. "Woman, why don't you for once tell me what you remember?"

She was taken back. "What I remember?"

"Yes. Precisely what you recall from your first memory to now."

She paused. What did she remember? Her memory had only built back up so much since her showdown with Frieza.

"Well.. I guess I was in an orphanage. They let me go at a certain age and then I met Yamcha. I found a job going from house to house, looking-"

"Looking for what?"

She stopped. What had she been looking for all this time? House after house, building after building, history after history... Was she just looking for her own?

"Well they- my editors- wanted me to find something that was in such a bad condition that you couldn't live in it... They wanted to replenish it to make money. Or so they said."

"Do you realize there is merely zero coincidence here...?"

Her eyebrows burrowed slightly, "What do you mean?"

"Your presence here unlocked this house just as it unlocked you. But your journey here has been planned from the start. Have you not realized this?"

She let out a hearty laugh, "Vegeta, what are you saying? That someone sent me here deliberately?"

He nodded. She rolled her eyes.

"Like who?"

He shrugged, "I do not know. It could have been Frieza for all I know. Or maybe, just maybe..."

She stopped. And so did her heart.

"Perhaps there was some divine intervention that lead you back here to me."

Her eyes closed wistfully for a second as she let it in, taking a big breath and exhaling through her nostrils. Could her parents have really guided her this entire time, as well as her undying love and connection to them?

"Perhaps..." She replied softly, leaning in for a kiss from her Prince.

Then, there was white.


Bulma Augusta Briefs was born on April 23rd, 1943 to Mr. and Mrs. Briefs of the Rojo community. When she was born that day, it rained for hours, cleansing the Earth and the timeline of the evil that had thrust her and Prince Vegeta into each other's fate. She knew of no such evil as she grew into a beautiful child with blue, curly locks that shone in the glimmering sun while she played, and played, and played...

Until one day she was told she was to have a playmate. Prince Vegeta arrived with his two parents of royalty to meet her at her shy five-year-old stage. However, she always played, and always painted.

However, she did not paint for an evil murderer disguised as a butler. She painted flowers and hearts and a very mean looking monster that she wrote the name "Vegeta" under. She painted her mother's face with red lips and dazzling blue eyes.

Prince Vegeta walked through the door that day and time stood still for Bulma Briefs. Adrenaline took over her and her once shy demeanor turned into determination for adventure as she lunged for his hand and took him back out the door to the wood next to the house.

There was one tree in particular she adored and it was in the center of the wood, with all the other trees encircling it like it was the most beautiful tree in all the land. Breathing heavily, Bulma panted up to its blank bark and asked in a cheery voice, "Do ya have a knife?"

Vegeta didn't know what to think. This tiny female had just barely entered his world and suddenly it was as if she became it. He rolled his eyes to try and evade the eerily unfamiliar feelings that were eroding his brain, and reached for his knife in his pocket. The motion made his royal purple cape sway a little.

Bulma released a bell-tone giggle at his expense. Then he took out the knife.

Gasping she backed up against the tree. Would he really use it on her? Gulping she bit her bottom lip, something she always did out of fear. Feeling childish, Bulma could feel the stream of warm urine fall down her legs and into the sand. Holding the knife up in the air, Vegeta watched this, literally feeling her fear and desperation. At once, all the blood in his body ventured south, but as the confusion grow, he grew softer.

She was truly frightened.

He strode forward, reaching her in an instant and stabbed the tree with the knife above her head. She looked up at him, her eyes misting over with unreleased tears. He watched her face for a moment, his being only inches away. He felt a strong sense of Deja Vu come over him, but he ignored it. He felt a lot of things and ignored them. But in that moment, he knew for a logical fact that he could not take his eyes off of hers.

"Do you really believe... I would hurt you?"

She shook slightly, and with Vegeta noticing, he smirked and ripped off his cape to put over her, assuming she was cold.

That's when she closed her eyes, feeling his face come closer to hers in slow motion.

"You're mine..." He whispered on his way to her lips, claiming them for his own. Shivers ran through Bulma's body like electric shocks. She had never felt such a sensation before.

"Bulma! Dinner's ready!"

They both froze. Vegeta backed away, releasing his hands off the cape.

"Looks like you have to go, little one."

Little one. Where had she heard that before? Feeling strange for a moment, as well as very fluttery and confused, she shook her head and sent him a small gaze and a smile. She wanted him to know that she wanted to see him again.

As she ran off, Vegeta looked back at the tree. He went up to it and grabbed his knife, shutting it closed and putting it back in his pocket. With a bold smirk, he knew that somehow he would end up protecting her with it someday.

Or maybe he already had.

In elegant script, he engraved the words, "Vegeta & Bulma" on the tree himself, not wanting to waste any time.

He loved her back...

And so she lived happily ever after.


Well... Here we are. The End.

Wow. I have to say I am pretty proud of this one. You guys have been excellent reviewers and I am thoroughly grateful for your feedback, opinions, questions, and constant reminders to UPDATE! Anything for you guys! However, I will NOT be doing a sequel to this. But feel free to check out my other fic, Passion and the Prince, a three years cliche attempt at keeping Bulma and Vegeta extremely in character, so check it out! I need reviews for it like this one!

After all, it was a pleasure writing for such a copious audience. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Have a blessed New Year and keep reviewing!

~Jckash03