A/N – This is a long, winding expedition into those mysterious three years. Expect to see a lot of verbal sparring and subtly escalating sexual tension. There's a fair amount of smut, too, but I won't spoil it or give any forewarning aside from this preemptive notice. You've been warned…

Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

~Three years of uneaten strawberries~

The pungent scent of ripe strawberries filled his nostrils, permeating his fine-tuned nasal passages and dulling his sense of smell. To him it was malodorous; an incessant, sweet aroma making a path through his airway and infiltrating his lungs.

He found that he hated the stench.

Worst of all, he'd come to learn that that woman—that brazen, vulgar woman—was very fond of these red berries.

This woman is completely and utterly infuriating!

It was a warm autumn day in West City. Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong, Puar, and Vegeta, the Briefs family's reluctant house guest, were outside eating an assortment of food that Bulma had prepared. Taking the favorable weather into consideration, the heiress had decided it would be a great day for a lunch outing and had asked everyone to join in, even Vegeta.

Hesitantly he had accepted, convincing himself that it was only on the condition that he would sneak most of the food away all for his royal person. He would not accept an invitation to sit among a plebian species for idle chit-chat; He did not intend to talk and converse with them, to him their prattle was nothing above useless and annoying. He resented that he was even wasting his time amongst the Earthling scum.

Then "the woman" had come, bearing in her arms a bowl of those wretched berries she loved so much. She'd been growing a small crop of them in her garden, apparently, and she had picked the ripe berries herself that morning. She boasted that the strawberries she grew were the best in existence.

"Maybe Capsule Corp should be converted to a strawberry farm," Yamcha joked.

"Oh, knock it off." Bulma laughed, "It's not like my life revolves around these things, you know. They just happen to be my favorite." The blue-haired woman plucked a strawberry from her bowl, reflecting, "I've always like them, since… gosh, long before I met you."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you like them more than me," Yamcha huffed.

"Sure I do," Bulma mused and folded her arms across her chest, flicking her head to the side and setting her blue curls into motion.

She could feel a set of angry eyes locked on to the back of her head. She suddenly remembered her grumpy house guest, still sitting at the farthest end of the table by himself.

"Hey, Vegeta, would you like to try some of my strawberries? Maybe you would appreciate them more than these jerks," she shot a glare at Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar, who were busy eating the other food laid out on the table and ignoring her bowl of strawberries completely.

"I have no interest in something so inedible." The prince diverted his attention as he spoke to her, letting her know just how disinterested he was.

A bit stung and disheartened, she retorted, "Oh? And why not? I'll have you know these strawberries are the best you'll ever taste this side of the galaxy!"

Vegeta was about to retort when Yamcha butted in, "Forget about him, Bulma, he's just a total downer who doesn't know good food when he sees it."

"As if," Vegeta sneered, crossing his arms and chiding with contempt, "You're the fool who does not know good food, or drink, for that matter, seeing as you reek of your third-rate Earthling intoxicant and the company of harlots."

The others couldn't notice it, but Vegeta's fine-tuned Saiyan senses could pick it up unmistakably. Often when Yamcha crashed at Capsule Corp, he carried the odor of club hopping and cheap liquor. Yet another familiar stench the royal had come to find displeasing.

Bulma frowned at the accusation. She threw a stern look at her boyfriend, who shrunk under her scrutiny.

She knew the former bandit rarely went out drinking, though he had a habit of spending a lot of time with those who did. And often it was a swarm of pesky young girls who liked to hang on his coattails. Yamcha was quite fond of the attention they gave him, and Bulma didn't settle well with that.

Vegeta scoffed and said nothing more, wearing only a smirk on his mouth. He so enjoyed putting others down and causing turbulence among these Earthling trash.

There was a tense moment of silence as Bulma eyed Yamcha suspiciously, processing Vegeta's cutting remark. She knew that other women were hitting on her boyfriend, often very inebriated, uninhibited, amorous women seeking his acquaintanceship, but he always claimed he did not actively seek them out; the women approached him first, he said.

He was true to his word; he had never cheated on her. But being a former pupil of the Turtle Hermit, he had been taught by Roshi that it was acceptable to have a healthy appreciation for the opposite sex.

In the end, he would always come crawling back to the heiress. They had been having difficulties with their relationship lately, and things had become more problematic over the years. But they'd been together for so long… it was comfortable and convenient to stick with what was familiar to them. Besides, it was possible they only had three years left to live. There was no way they could move on with something that dreadful looming over them.

What was she to do with him? Though annoyed, Bulma just huffed and plopped an entire strawberry into her mouth.

"So... how's your training going, Yamcha?" Oolong broke the silence, simultaneously stuffing his face with a jelly-filled pastry and making loud smacking sounds with his mouth.

Vegeta pulled a face of disgust as he observed the pig's unruly eating habits. If he had his way, he would roast that pig alive for his meal...

"Well, me and Puar are thinking of going on a training journey..."

Bulma's mouth hung open, and the strawberry she had been eating toppled out and rolled onto the table. "Why am I only hearing about this now? You didn't mention anything to me about leaving!"

Yamcha merely laughed it off, while with a finger he flicked the strawberry from the table top. "Relax, Bulma. I'm not leaving just this minute." For a quick second he glanced at Vegeta, who didn't appear to be paying any attention to the conversation, as he was absorbed with the task of tearing into a steak with his teeth. "And c'mon, it's not like I'm going to run off just to have a good time. I'm going to be training hard to stop the androids; you have nothing to worry about."

Pathetic runt, Vegeta thought to himself as he tore a strip of flesh from his steak.

"Don't worry Bulma, I'll keep an eye on him!" Puar offered with a squeak.

"Hmph!" Bulma placed her hands on her hips. "Fine. Do whatever you like. Now, if all of you are done eating, you can go ahead and take your dirty dishes inside."

She looked over to where Vegeta had been sitting just ten seconds ago. He was already gone, but the mess of dishes he left behind was monumental. Bulma could feel her temples boiling with rage. "Ugh! What. A. Pig! Just look at this catastrophic wasteland he left behind! Does he expect me to clean this up?"

Yamcha hopped from his seat and started piling Vegeta's dishes. "Don't worry about it, I can handle this."

As Yamcha, Oolong, and Puar carried their dishes inside, Bulma sighed and looked back at the bowl of strawberries. She was the only one who had eaten any. It was not that the others were trying to be rude or anything, they had just been much too busy eating the rest of the food to take notice.

She decided not to let it bother her, after all, they had each tried her strawberries years before, she had made sure of that. All but-

Vegeta. Bulma groaned and thought to herself, That freak eats so much... Just ONE little fruit couldn't have killed him.

She looked toward where the training capsule stood on the other side of the lawn. The windows were tinted red, indicating that the gravity simulation had been activated and Vegeta had already resumed his training.

Bulma rolled her eyes. That battle hungry ape-man. Mark my words, Vegeta, you WILL try one of my strawberries someday!

The late autumn heat died down as evening drew to a close. The last orange hues of the sky mellowed into the grayish blue preceding nightfall. The marigold dappled sunlight slowly but surely faded from the domed Capsule Corp building, and inside the compound Bulma sat alone in the living room, watching one of her melodramatic soap operas. Onscreen, and with terrible acting, two women were arguing about a philandering boyfriend.

Bulma picked up the remote and grumbled. She flipped through the channels to find something that wouldn't be a nagging reminder of her relationship problems. Unable to find anything especially entertaining, she settled on a nature documentary.

Featured was a segment involving chimpanzees. The chimps were running about rampantly, while others groomed each other, eating the parasitic bugs they combed through the hairs of their comrades.

Bulma snickered, amused by the crude behavior of the primates. They reminded her of a certain scowling house guest. "This looks like a chronicle on the lives of those barbaric king-kong Saiyans."

"Who's barbaric?" a snide voice called from behind her.

Bulma jumped, startled to find that she was not alone.

Vegeta was standing by the window, a huge plate of food in his hands and a mean smirk on his lips. He enjoyed that his voice had made her spring up in fear. Frightening these idiotic Earthlings was his forte and seemed to be one of the few perks to living on this mud ball of a planet.

Bulma tried to regain her composure, but her pulse was racing through her after the scare. "What are you doing here? I assumed you disliked coming into this room." He'd often complained about the volume of the television, so it was a surprise that he had actually come into the room. He must have been very bored, and needed some amusement to pass the time… Amusement that he would likely seek at her expense, Bulma realized.

"Your bothersome mother insisted that I step foot inside this dump to retrieve my meal." He shoveled some food into his mouth and gulped it down. "You should have brought it to me like an obedient servant."

Bulma pouted and spun around to resume watching the television, attempting to ignore her rude guest.

Vegeta eyed the television. The chimps on the screen were thrashing their arms about wildly, fighting each other in their primordial quest for dominance. The animalistic display reminded him of when he had lived on his home planet during the short length of his childhood. He still had bleak memories of his fellow Saiyans transforming into giant apes under the full moon, hordes of his kind conquering all in their paths. This nature documentary wasn't far from bearing semblance to those memories, so he continued to watch with only mild interest.

Suddenly the group of chimpanzees cornered a monkey that had strayed into enemy territory. The chimps attacked it, using their numbers to their advantage to tear into their enemy and spill its blood.

"Oh, gross! I can't watch this!" Bulma gagged, reaching for the remote. But to her surprise the remote was no longer at her side. It was in Vegeta's hand, out of her reach. He was standing above her, staring intently at the ghastly scene playing out on the television.

Bulma scowled. "Give me the remote, I can't handle this disgusting program!"

Vegeta snorted, ignoring her demand. The show seemed to interest him; Bulma could see the intent in his gaze as he watched the bloodshed onscreen. He was taking in every detail and appeared to be enjoying it—the raw brutality he seldom had the chance to see since taking up residency on this planet.

"Ew! This is awful! Vegeta, give me the remote now!"

"Quiet!" he snapped, tearing his face away from the television for a moment to scowl at her. She glowered back at him. Having succeeded in silencing her for a moment, he turned his attention back to the program. The battered and broken monkey's eyes glazed over as death gripped it. The chimps had begun to eat the fallen enemy.

Vegeta smirked, remarking, "Your intolerance for a little bloodshed is almost amusing. This is nothing to us Saiyans. In fact, we crave the sight of carnage. You Earthlings are so pitiful to be unable to stomach this. That is one of the many factors attributing to your weakness."

"Gross. Are you Saiyans so uncivilized that you will even eat the flesh of your enemies, just like these monkeys?" Bulma gestured toward the television while a grimace spread across her features.

"It may come to that if we are hungry enough," he answered simply.

With satisfaction, Vegeta noted the look of complete disgust etched on Bulma's face. He almost laughed at the way her horror amused him.

"You're not planning on eating me, are you?" she eyed him apprehensively.

Sneering, he replied, "I hardly think your grotesque flesh would satiate me, woman. Besides, eating you would be unnecessary when I have you and your family of slaves at my expense to prepare all the food I require."

"UGH!" Bulma sank further into the sofa and crossed her arms, her lips pushed into a full, displeased pout. Who does this guy think he is? she thought. How could he talk to ME in such a rude manner! Me, Bulma Briefs, the most intelligent and talented girl on Earth, and probably the prettiest babe he's ever laid his beady little eyes on!

With her self-comforting thoughts she felt reassured and smiled contemptuously, forgetting the offending behavior Vegeta had just exhibited moments ago.

She noticed that he was just standing idly, barely absorbed in watching the television now that the cannibalistic monkey program had ended. Boredom and disinterest were clearly striking his face. The food was nearly gone from his plate.

She could not let him leave now! She'd been feeling grouchy all evening after hearing of Yamcha's plan to leave her behind to go on his ridiculous little training journey, and now she was in the mood for some light verbal sparring to cheer herself up. She had to bait Vegeta to stay a bit longer. If he was going to antagonize her, she may as well dish out the same treatment and get a few laughs out of it.

She chatted, "Hey Vegeta, there's a show you might like to watch on-"

"I am not interested," he cut her off before she could even finish, and he shoveled the last of his food into his mouth.

Not backing down, she added, "Oh, but it's a show about fighting. I thought maybe you could learn a few moves to use against those androids..." she smiled—it was a very scheming smile, which Vegeta missed. She knew just how to push his buttons, and she hoped she could persuade him by using a topic on fighting as bait. Though she did not know him all that well, if he was at all like Goku and as obsessed with fighting as he was, he would probably be a little interested.

Vegeta paused for a moment and seemed to consider it over in his head. The offer was certainly tempting. It wasn't like he had anything better to do at the moment, besides. But still he resisted, "I doubt you Earthlings could have developed any techniques worthy of my time or capable of holding my interest."

"C'mon, it's not like spending half an hour watching people fighting on tv is going to hold you back on your training," Bulma coaxed, "Besides, Goku watches this stuff all the time, and he tells me he learned some useful fighting tricks from it." That last part was a lie, of course.

Half a second later the prince plopped himself down onto the couch just a few feet from Bulma. She could feel the impact of his body against the sofa, startling her.

With one careless swipe of the arm he tossed the remote to her. "Go on, then. Enlighten me."

Fumbling, Bulma caught the remote in both hands. "Ah. Right. Let's see here..." She flipped through the channels, searching for what she hoped would interest the Saiyan.

Anything that low-class imbecile Kakarot can do, so can I, Vegeta thought to himself, gritting his teeth. Though I wouldn't put much stock in some moronic television show holding the secret to his ascension.

He had his doubts about this, though he was admittedly a bit curious to watch. Aside from training, he didn't have much else to do to occupy his time, and he did find it enjoyable watching people pummel each other when he wasn't the one doing the beating.

Oh boy. You're in for it now... Bulma rubbed her temple with the back of her free hand, fretting, Of course Goku wouldn't bother watching this kind of stuff on tv, if he even watches tv at all. If Vegeta finds that out...

She caught a lucky break; only a few channels up, a boxing match had just barely begun.

On the screen, the two fighters shuffled around in the ring, displaying impressive rhythmic footwork and speed (impressive to human standards, at least).

Vegeta observed silently. Of course he was gifted with immeasurable skill compared to these men on the television, but he had to admit that it was a little entertaining to sit back and observe simpletons fighting.

Then one of the fighters quickly struck out with his fist, jabbing the other square in the jaw and knocking him out cold instantly.

Vegeta gave a mean laugh. "You'll end up regretting that you have shown this to me when I apply that technique to Kakarot's face."

The boxing match ended and was followed by a commercial break. An advertisement for delivery flowers flashed onto the screen.

Ugh! Just what I need to see! Bulma groaned, immediately thinking back to her relationship troubles. Yamcha used to send her flowers quite often, but in recent years he hadn't bothered, possibly because he was too busy with other things... and whenever he and Bulma got together, their little interactions usually ended in a fight.

I wonder if that jerk is sending bouquets to other girls instead of me... Bulma felt the urge to hurl something out the window. She figured a chair would do nicely.

The commercial ended and commenced with the next. The television bleated an obnoxious narrative, "WARNING: This commercial contains adult material not suitable for children!"

Bulma frowned. Oh no, it's one of THOSE commercials. She was about to change the channel, but she reconsidered, grinning devilishly, Maybe it would be a little fun to see Vegeta's reaction to this.

No sooner after the abrupt five-second warning ended, there were dozens of women on the screen. Various clips showed them dancing around, ripping and peeling their clothes off before rolling around on bed sheets for the promised reward of nothing more than a t-shirt.

Much to Bulma's utter delight, she saw that Vegeta's face went taut with an expression of extreme revulsion, and his eyes grew wide with horror and disgust. He could feel the hair standing on the back of his neck and his face burning hot.

"Just what is this repulsive, tasteless ritual of vulgarity?!" he could not hide the discomfort in his voice.

Bulma covered her mouth in an attempt to suppress a giggle, but failed, as a very loud snort slid out from her lips and between her fingers. Vegeta turned his head to cautiously scrutinize the heiress. He was half expecting her to lift her shirt up just as the women on the screen had.

Catching his appalled gaze, Bulma smirked and waggled a finger at him. "I'll bet you're thinking you'd rather see me take my clothes off, huh?" Vegeta flinched as she leaned in closer to him.

"Tch!" He averted his eyes from the overly sultry female. "What makes you think I'd want to see you unclothed? I have no intentions of ever laying my eyes on your mutant body. The sight of your bare flesh alone may be enough to make me go blind."

A calculating smile played on Bulma's lips as she brought her slender hands to the bottom of her shirt, and slowly she lifted the fabric up by several inches, revealing just a small glimpse of the porcelain skin of her stomach.

Through half-lidded, seductive eyes she was pleased to note that Vegeta's face was clearly marked with an expression of utter shock. He swallowed uncomfortably as a single bead of sweat rolled down from his neck and rested on his collarbone. He wanted to get up and take-off, but his body went rigid, locking him in place as if a petrifying spell had been cast over him and rendering him helpless against her sudden flirtatious advancement.

Slowly her hands continued their ascent.

"Stop that at once!" he shut his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, Bulma's hands were back at her sides and she still remained fully clothed. But she was laughing hysterically now. Vegeta scowled and felt anger building inside him.

"I was just teasing you," she laughed. "Oh man, you should see your face! Ha ha!"

"How dare you mock me, you unchaste harlot!" His fists clenched and he felt his pride falling fast. He was not amused in the least, and her laughter only sent a surge of rage through him. How dare she treat him like this!

She ceased her merriment and playfully winked at Vegeta, "Look, if you really want a Girls Gone Wild DVD that badly, I'll buy one for you, alright?" She smiled demurely, but her voice was laced with the most taunting tone.

"I do not care for anything involving those promiscuous courtesans performing erotic displays!" he roared, eyes narrowing in his detestation under an especially mean scowl. WHY would she come to the conclusion that I would want to see that sort of thing? What a debaucherous girl!

"Oh? Why not? Are you not interested in pretty women?" she pushed her bottom lip into a full pout, trying very hard to stifle any further giggles as she continued to tease him. "Or maybe you prefer monkeys, since you seemed to have an abnormal interest in that chimpanzee show..."

He snarled at this accusation of hers. How can she even consider such a thing! he thought as he continued to stare icily at this woman.

His eyes landed on her bottom lip, which she still held in a pout. Of course he wasn't interested in what she had suggested, especially with this intimidating female in front of him... And now he found that he could not take his eyes off her pretty mouth. He felt blood rush to his face... and to his crotch, he realized with horror.

Surely it wouldn't do any harm if I tease him with a little flirting, Bulma thought, Especially since Yamcha seems to think it's okay to run around with other women. This will make us even! She batted her blue eyelashes playfully at Vegeta and bit her bottom lip. Just look at him! Poor chump, probably hasn't seen such a gorgeous girl this close to him before. He can't keep his eyes off me! Well, can I really blame him? she mused quite smugly, now brimming with tremendous confidence.

"Woman," Vegeta growled.

She tilted her head down, gazing up at him through cerulean eyes. "Yes?"

"I demand you supply me with consumable sustenance this instant!" he tossed his empty plate at her for emphasis.

Bulma sat back on her haunches and frowned, her pout twisting and displaying her clear agitation.

"Well? Get to it!" The prince barked, "That's all you're good for!"

"Do it yourself, jerk!" Bulma sauntered off, but not before kicking at the prince's empty plate.

Once he was sure she was gone, Vegeta exhaled a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of such a compromising situation.

The woman's invasiveness of his royal person made a chill run down his spine. Her presence was far too daunting for him to handle; she could be a potential distraction to his training if she kept intimidating him like this. Only his rudeness could keep her at bay, momentarily at least.

He didn't exactly enjoy her company... those pheromones of hers made his limbs and stomach feel weak, and weakness was something he would have to avoid at all costs.

He stood up and headed for his room. Feh! Ridiculous! That woman does not make me weak!