They made an early night of it, in preparation for the day of traveling ahead. Much to Vegeta's dismay, Bulma determinately slept on the couch. They woke early, and flew until sundown.

Bulma could just make out the shore over his shoulder, Africa. Even she had never been to this region before. Judging by the Radar, and landscape, they were somewhere near the Congo.

Vegeta relished this new climate so much like his own planet, except for the ridiculous green color of the trees. He could almost in vision them a healthy yellow orange instead, and the oppressive humidity welcomed him in its warm embrace.

He bent and drank greedily from the stream, bathing his face and arms in the water. Bulma twisted the cap off her water bottle and splashed a little on herself as well. It was then the he felt it, that heated feeling of eyes watching him. He heard the rustle of the bushes behind him, and leapt to his feet.

He felt the man before he saw him, but even then he had a hold on the woman long before he could react. "Don't hurt them Vegeta!" she yelled out, even as the man dragged her to the sodden ground.

Ridiculous woman, doesn't she see she is in danger. He thought, even as he stayed his hand at her request. He instead assessed his enemy, an incredibly tall man, nearly seven foot. His skin so dark it had violet tones, and hid him well in the shadow of the brush.

Vegeta watched as another dozen of such men rose from the brush, dressed in dark green and carrying large guns. He knew the guns could do little damage to him, but to his mate such a blast would be deadly. So he cooperated as they shouted at him, waving and pointing the guns menacingly. He allowed them to hand cuff him, and tote both him and his woman down the small game path. Once they drop their guard I'll kill them all. He thought to himself.

It was well dark when they found themselves in the decrepit city. Being shoved along, poked in the back by the mussel of the M16's. Bulma prayed every second that Vegetas patience wouldn't wear out. She hoped he understood that, while he could easily take out all the men, it would only take one well-placed shot to end her life.

She had been in similar situations before, and held strong to every ounce of composure she could find, even as the men leered at her suggestively. The men took them both into a concrete building which appeared to be collapsing around them, not unlike all the others in the city. Bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling casting a stark and menacing glow on the hordes of people crammed into the building.

They did not stop here though; instead they took them to a smaller room in the back of the building, where a slightly more plump menacing middle aged man sat, in a leather recliner, surrounded by soldiers as if he were a king on a throne. Every subject near him was armed to the teeth.

The man behind her pulled her hair as he struck the back of her knees, forcing her to kneel on the floor with a yelp. They attempted to do the same to Vegeta, but he remained standing. He did not react to the action; instead he smirked devilishly to the man sitting before him.

Weak little ki-less human thinks he's a king, it's almost laughable. Vegeta thought to himself. The man across from him glared at him before turning his eyes of Bulma. He leaned forward, taking her face in his hands and caressed her. He was sliding his hand down her throat when he heard Vegetas growl, shocking him to a stop.

"Shes mine." Vegeta stated possessively.

"Hmm, how about we play a little game then, if I win, then I keep her for myself." The man said haughtily. Bulma's eyes widened in shock that the man spoke perfect English.

"And if I win?" Vegeta replied.

"You live." The dark man said.

"I will be doing that regardless." Vegeta said to the man, confidant.

"I like that paperweight, over on the table. Let's play for that." Bulma said nodding to the dragon ball perched on the desk in the corner.

"Hump, you let your woman speak for you?" the man said disapprovingly.

"Let the woman have her trinket, when I win."

"If you win."

"What is the game?" Bulma asked.

The man did not as much as glance at her, instead he sized up Vegeta as he said. "Russian roulette."

"Let me give him a hug, please, for luck?" She asked pleadingly. The older man nodded as one of the soldiers unlocked their handcuffs.

She leapt into his arms, playing the part of the grieving woman as she whispered to him. "There's one bullet in the gun which has 6 slots, you spin the large middle part place it to your head and pull the trigger. The game continues until one of the players is killed by the bullet, please don't do this Vegeta." She said pleadingly.

He kissed her ear softly as he whispered, "You forget woman, those silly rocks can't harm me." as he pulled her away from him, and took his seat at the table.

Logically she knew this; she had seen bullets bounce off of Goku countless times. But that didn't make the prospects of losing Vegeta any less frightening. She knew he put his life at risk countless times, many of which to defend her, but somehow watching this was terrifying.

The thought of him dead filled her eyes with tears. Images of him flashed before her eyes as he spun the barrel; Him sulking under a tree, smirk growing on his face as their eyes met, the confusion on his face when she introduced him to new bizarre customs. She heard the click as he pulled the trigger on the empty chamber.

She let loose the breath she was unconsciously holding, and the tears fell from her eyes. She watched as the warlord across the table repeated the process, praying for a blast. But no, she heard the click and the rasp of the gun as it slid across the table.

Her heart pounded in the throat as she thought of him holding her; carrying her the day she fainted from her diet, holding her as she cried at Yamcha's deceit. Every soft comforting caress ran through her mind as he spun the barrel. And click, no blast, relief flooded through her.

She couldn't bear the thought of losing him; she had to find a way to put a stop to this insanity. Spin, click, and rasp. The gun was back in her lovers hands.

Panic struck her, but was chased away as the images resumed. This time it was of him holding Trunks for the first time, the way he insisted she care for him the best way he thought possible the second he found that he was a father. It was in the way he stared at their child in his arms, with awe and love.

It struck her then, he may never say it. But it was clear on his face, and in her memory. In every moment he defended and protected them, every time he said the word 'mate' to her. It was there, love. A chill ran through her as the tears streamed down her face. He does love me. She realized, as she heard the BANG.

(should totaly leave it here just to piss you all off haha)

Shock flooded through her as she saw Vegetas head rocked to the side from the force of the blast. Then she filled with relief as he righted himself, she had forgotten, it couldn't hurt him.

He pealed the flattened disk of lead from the side of his head, nearly wincing. At point blank range it did hurt a bit to be shot. He smirked as he rose, leaning over the table and slid the gun back.

"You might want to reload it for the next round." He said casually smirking, reveling in their horror.

"What-What are you? Are you a God?" The warlord asked as he stumbled back for the door.

"YES!" Vegeta hissed as, sending the men stumbling over themselves as they fled the room. He laughed hysterically as he retrieved the dragon ball from the desk.

Bulma was still trying to recover from her fear, and the shock of discovering his love. She began laughing at the sight before her, even as the tears still left tracks down her face.

"What's wrong now woman?" he said softly. "I didn't harm them." He muttered as he dried her face.

"Yha, thank you, it's not that." She said with a shaky voice. He raised an eye brow as if to ask what could be upsetting her.

"I just realized I'm going to need another capsule to lug around your humungous ego."