Author's disclaimer: No. DB is not mine and will never be...*cries*

I've been feeling quite inspired since starting to watch DBS, hence this little fic. I have about six chapters written. At this point I plan on keeping the material light and just a bit funny. Maybe something more serious in the future...

Chapter 1 – Lunchtime

At first he wasn't an issue. Vegeta trained all day, and slept at night, like a normal creature. It was only recently that he started to live in the capsule twenty-four seven, training at odd times. If they didn't take food to him every meal, none of them would ever see him.

His solitude and unsociable behavior at first rather grated her. Here they were practically rolling out the red carpet for him, and he goes and ignores them!

It was about three days into this new regiment she was off work and offered to take Vegeta his lunch. Bulma felt a little guilty that she had been the one to offer the man their home, but her mother was the one who was really looking after him.

With helping her father with his experiments and trying to run Capsule Corp, she wasn't around as much as she would have liked.

So here she was, leisurely strolling across the grounds, the large cart of food she was pushing piled high.

The trip was made easier by the concrete pathway that was installed from the backdoor of the home right around the building to the capsule.

Bulma looked with pride upon the huge smorgasbord. If nothing else, her mother was a terrific cook. Not even the jackass was able to find fault with it, though he did with everything else.

She learned quickly that he was a rude jerk.

Bulma grumbled to herself, remembering all of the insults he made about inferior human technology and their physical weaknesses.

Their verbal sparring usually turned into all out screaming matches. Whenever they were in the same room it was inevitable that an argument would start between them.

The young woman chose instead to avoid him, her work schedule going a long way toward helping that along. Yamcha and his wandering eye was enough man drama for her to handle without throwing a jerk prince in the mix.

In a way this self-imposed exile was in her favor, so she let his rude behavior slide.

She turned one last corner and the capsule loomed above her. Before she even made it to the entrance she heard the sound of intense training coming from within.

She stopped the cart and stepped forward, knuckles gently rapping on the cold metal door. "Vegeta?"

Patiently she waited for about a minute for the noises to cease. When they didn't she felt her usually short temper flare up in frustration. The man had excellent hearing, as did Goku. There was no way he could have missed her knock and call.

That meant he was ignoring her on purpose, the jerk.

This time Bulma used a fist and pounded hard enough to make her hand hurt.

From within the sounds suddenly ceased. With a sudden swoosh that caught her off guard the door slid open to reveal Vegeta's glowering face.

"What?" he barked, a vein waiting to burst on his forehead.

His attitude immediately grated on her already frayed temper.

"What do you think, jerk! I brought you lunch!" She stepped aside to display the cart laden with food waiting at the bottom of the ramp.

He snorted, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Where is the other woman?"

Bulma clenched her teeth, reminding herself that punching him in the face wouldn't help the planet.

"My mother isn't your personal slave. Her life doesn't revolve around making and bringing you food."

With a hiss through bared teeth he stepped aside, wordlessly indicating she should bring the cart in.

Huffing and mumbling about bad manners, she tried to do just that.

There was just a tiny problem. While easier to maneuver on flat ground, the cart was impossibly heavy to push up the ramp. Her muscles groaned in protest as she alternately pushed and pulled at the cart, but every time the damn thing went only a few feet before sliding back down.

What was even more infuriating was the ass leaning against the doorway, a cocky smile on his smug face.

Oh, he was definitely enjoying watching her struggle, which only made her more determined to get the damn thing inside. Unfortunately her muscles weren't up to the task.

Confused as to how her mother was able to accomplish this three times a day, she threw her hands up in the air. She glared daggers at the Saiyan. "Fine! I give up. You can just eat out here for all I care!"

Still with that same annoying grin, he trudged down the ramp, and with two fingers pulled the damn thing into the capsule as easily as if it were a toy.

Stupid Saiyan strength! She inwardly shouted. And a bubbling rage rose to the surface as it became clear how the cart got in every meal time. He must have been the one to do it, not her mother.

The jerk just wanted to see her squirm as she failed at the task. She felt like a volcano was about to explode inside her body.

Oh why couldn't this alien have been as nice as Goku?

Stupid her and her stupid offer! She should have just given him a small shuttle and told him goodbye and good luck. But noooo. She had to offer her house to him as well.

Wishing for nothing more than a good wall to bang her head against, she turned to leave, before she really let her temper get the better of her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" His deep and smooth voice washed over her like a cat scratching on a chalkboard.

Her every nerve on edge, she turned slowly back to face him.

He was standing in the doorway, an empty cart held in front of him.

She stared, positive that not even he could eat all of the food that fast.

His look changed to disgust at her confusion, which further ruffled her feathers.

"From breakfast, you idiot." With a small push the cart came careening down the ramp. Going way too fast for her to even think about grabbing it, instead she sprang out of the way, landing face first in the grass.

Behind her she heard the contraption crash against the sidewalk. Sitting up, she saw that the item was now on its side, two wheels spinning in the air.

Breathing heavily from more than adrenaline, she slowly turned back to the Saiyan.

With a bored look he still stood in the same place, arms crossed over his wide chest.

Patience was now a foreign word to her mind. That, and self-preservation. Getting to her feet, she walked toward him with long, angry strides. She didn't hesitate at all as she invaded his personal space, something he always made clear was out of bounds to intrude upon.

She raised one hand, fire in her eyes.

He didn't have a clue what she was planning. That was his only excuse for not dodging or stopping her.

The man couldn't even believe it had happened, but the painful sting in his cheek told him otherwise.

He brought one hand up to the inflicted area in disbelief.

The earthling had actually struck him, and right in the face! While her pitiful strength meant nothing to him, it was the principal of the matter that caused him to see red.

Bulma took that small delay to come to her senses and realize exactly what she had done, and more importantly, to whom she had done it to.

Suddenly feeling very small and afraid, she took a step back. The motion jolted him out of his shock and he reached for her with both hands, gripping her upper arms with painful intensity.

She whimpered as his fingers bit into her soft skin. Even with those white gloves he always wore, she could feel the imprints of each individual digit.

With a jerk he brought her face right up to his. Those coal-black eyes bore into her own aquamarine.

His voice was a low hiss. "The only reason you aren't dead is because I don't have time for Kakarrot's stupid sense of misplaced pity."

Bulma paled at his words.

"Your death would cause me more trouble than it is worth or you would be speaking with King Yemma right now instead of me." When she didn't say anything he gave her a shake. Gentle for him, but she thought for sure her bones were going to rattle apart.

"Do not ever do that again. Do you understand?"

Her nod was quick and empathetic.

Unceremoniously he let her go. Like a wet noodle she fell on the metal ramp and unable to stop herself, rolled to the bottom.

There came a whoosh as the door closed and by the time she had collected herself enough to look up, there was a dead silence in the air once more.

This was the last time she was ever going to bring him food, she promised herself.

He could starve to death for all she cared.

With a huff she rose to her feet, dusting off grass and dirt.

Now that Vegeta was out of sight the young woman was feeling reckless.

So Bulma flipped him the birdy.

Too bad he chose that moment to reopen the hatch, the now empty lunch cart being dragged behind him.

This time she could see veins popping up on both sides of his forehead.

Thank goodness not even Saiyan looks could kill or she would have been blasted to the nearest planet.

"Uh..."

This time Bulma didn't have a chance to dodge the cart careening her way.

The metal hit her square in the legs, causing her to go flying through the air with a sharp cry of pain.

Eyes squeezed shut she braced herself for the inevitable impact of hard ground.

A tug on her shirt and she felt herself stop in midair.

Opening one eye and then the other she found herself staring inches away from the concrete path.

Her brain scrambled to make sense of what was going on, eventually coming up empty.

Tilting her head, she beheld spandex clad legs and followed them up passed a well-muscled chest to a familiar glowering face.

One of his hands was fisted tightly about her shirt, easily holding her weight.

Before she could form anything to say he wordlessly let her go.

"Ow..." The rough surface of the sidewalk bit into her bare legs and hands.

A sudden shifting next to her and the current bane of her existence knelt down one on knee beside her broken body. His face shifted down to hers and she froze in shock.

He was so close Bulma could see her reflection in his black eyes. Their noses were almost touching.

"You try my patience, woman."

His hot breath fanned over her face as she stared at him with wide eyes. She had half expected his breath to smell like a banquet, but no, he had to have great smelling breath.

Against her will, Bulma took notice of his aristocratic nose and handsome face.

His skin was unblemished. The man probably never had a pimple in his life.

"Test me again and damn to hell the consequences."

The young woman blinked at him, getting the message loud and clear. Or at least the rational part of her brain did.

The irrational, temperamental part was inwardly telling her to do something incredibly stupid.

Those lips that said such cruel things were pressed together in agitation. Even as cracked and dry as they were, they were full.

There was a brief struggle between the rational and irrational, and it was one of those not-so-rare instances in which the rational side lost.

She closed the tiny distance between them as their lips pressed together.

His were surprisingly soft against her own. For a long moment they were unmoving. Then came the tiniest of pushes as he deepened the intimate contact.

An electric current seemed to flash between them, pleasantly jolting her body.

Unfortunately the shock also brought her back to reality.

Bulma reared back as if struck.

Not giving the man a moment to end her life, she jumped to her feet, making a mad dash for the house.

Not until she reached the inside of the building, the door firmly closed behind her, did she remember to take a shaky breath.

One hand slowly reached up to touch her quivering lips.

She had just kissed the most dangerous creature on the planet, hell, practically the entire galaxy!

Bulma closed her eyes and groaned, face awash with embarrassment.

But the worst part was she very much wanted to do it again...

The Saiyan watched her run away without a thought of stopping her.

She had dared to touch him so intimately. Him! The prince of all Saiyans!

He should just kill her and end this stupid charade.

Something fluttered in his chest at the thought and he quickly pushed the annoying feeling aside. What he couldn't dismiss as easily was the way his own body had reacted...

He growled low in his throat, thoroughly annoyed at her and himself.

Screw it, he needed to blow something up.

Getting to his feet he quickly walked into the pod.

With a flick the gravity and bots started back up again, only to meet a grisly end a few minutes later.