The ice cream container was sitting between her legs, feet tucked underneath her bottom, the sleeves of her oversized sweater shoved up to her elbows.

It's was 3.30 am and Bulma was suffering not only from insomnia but also a severe case of wistful nostalgia. The late night movies and shows on the TV had proven unhelpful with the task of silencing her overactive brain. With the sound completely on mute and it's display flicking in bright lights from the home shopping show, the Television was the only source of light in the room.

She had come to this room in an attempt to hopefully fall asleep in front of the TV, that usually worked on restless nights when her brain would not allow her body the rest it so badly craved.

Tonight was different though. Nothing seemed to work and she had dejectedly decided to simply raid the freezer and eat her feelings. Should her mother ask in the morning, Bulma could blame the empty carton of frozen delight on the pit that was Vegetas stomach.

Her and Yamacha were officially over. They had been for a while now, but neither of them had actually vocalized it until now. It was painful but necessary, and while the scientific rational part of her brain knew that it was for the best, that they both would be better, happier even; the sudden sucking void she felt in her chest was hard to ignore. They had been together for a long time, practically grown and matured alongside another from their teens to now, and while often turbulent Yamcha was the only male - aside from her father - she ever had a deeply significant relationship with.

Outgrowing that hurt. A lot.

Reminiscing about old memories had led her down the road of her teen adventures that had climaxed in the craziness which had been Namek. Scratch that it climaxed when she invited a murderous and unstable alien to live in her house.

Her 16year old self would have been elated at the prospect and opportunities of this, but present day Bulma simply felt lonely.

"All those channels on your silly TV box and this is what you choose woman?"

A deep voice rasped from the doorway, almost violently ripping her out of her thoughts, and making her jerk.

"Kami!! You scared the shit out of me Vegeta! I told you not to sneak up on people!" she responded a little too loudly. Adjusting the volume of her voice as her heart calmed it rhythm.

The dark prince leaned in the doorway, eyes still glued to the television, not dignifying her outburst with a response, but simply waiting for his question to be answered. She glanced from his form back to the show, currently trying to sell apparent top of the line robotic vacuums. They weren't capsule corp products. Clearly the show host was misguided about 'top of the line'.

"It was just background noise" she finally blurted weakly into the silence. Realizing that it had been muted for some time she added "but then it got annoying".

Vegeta made a grunting sound, wether to agree with her statement or simply affirm that he heard her she did not know. As the minutes passed he remained unmoving in the doorway. While Bulmas eye switched between the tv screen and the ice cream in her lap, she was not paying any attention to the current sales pitch, but rather she kept glancing at the alien to her right.

Sensing that she likely wasn't the only one with an overactive mind, given the current hour and persistent looming presence of her alien she simply patted the empty spot next to her on the couch in invitation. Counting on his sharp senses to pick up on her movement and gesture.

Moments passed and Bulma was becoming concerned that he would simply leave or ignore her offer, but then he shifted his weight an crossed the distance.

The couch shifted under his weight and kami help her because she could not ignore the subtle way in which his abdominal tensed and then relaxed when he lowered his impressive form into the soft cushion. Clearly he had been laying in bed previous to ghosting through the halls of the compound, unable to sleep before finding her in one of the living rooms. His shirtless form was impressive and with the heat he seemed to radiate Bulma was suddenly worried her ice cream might not be the only thing melting.

They sat in comfortable silence for a view minutes before she scooted the container of sweet cold delight his way. If she wanted to know what was on his mind, a subject that would certainly help her get her own mind of things, not to mention sate her curiosity about him, she would need food as her aid.

Food a Saiyans kryptonite. She almost giggled at the thought.

His dark gaze shifted from the screen to her. The most intense gaze she had ever seen. While he accepted the treat, impossibly dark eyes never leaving her, she took her time admiring his features in the flickering light of the TV. This man was royalty no doubt, his facial features sharp; seemingly chiseled out of rare expensive extraterrestrial stone screamed aristocracy. Even his hair, defying the rules of gravity itself, let her know that he once had been destined to rule an entire race.

As he brought the cold treat to his lips Bulma could not help but notice how full and soft they looked, such a stark contrast to the hard warrior he himself was. After a few scoops Vegeta handed the container back to her, and Bulma found herself surprised by his consideration. She had half expected him to simply scarf down everything and then leave with a smug remark. But no, he shared with her, and she found herself realizing that while certainly arrogant and demanding - especially when it came to his training equipment- this alien man had never personally done her harm. He was no cuddly teddy bear, but he certainly wasn't a monster either. Not anymore. Not sitting here in the dark with her, sharing ice cream and watching a terrible home shopping program.

Bulma accepted the ice cream wordlessly, contemplating the current situation. They were both lonely, too different to properly fit into conventional standards of society. She a brilliant and beautiful woman with a career field that was dominated by man. Vegeta was an alien, alone not only in the universe but also likely among his race. A prince turned slave, a promised savior that had been beaten to the punch. They were both lonely indeed. Yet she was surrounded by her own kind, while he remained the only one to hold the knowledge and traditions of an nearly extinct race.

As she handed the remains of the sugary treat back to him she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be less lonely together?

And there was a thought. Wasn't it?

While Vegeta emptied the container Bulma found herself carefully scooting closer to him. Her eyes never leaving him, trying to gauge his reaction. As the now empty carton was placed on the side table next to the couch Bulma decided to take a leap of faith. Carefully pressing her soft lips against his strong and defined shoulder. His skin was hot, almost blazing, and upon contact he flinched, surprised, she had caught him off guard. Dark eyes found her blue oceans and she pulled away incrementally to give him a reassuring smile. Had anyone ever kissed him?!

"Woman what are you doing!!"

His voice was rough and low, threatening even. Likely a position he always assumed immediately when he was unfamiliar with a certain situation. She rightened herself from the slight bend position she had taken in order to reach his shoulder.

"I kissed you"

Disbelieve was dancing in his dark orbs and she was waiting for him to call her a vulgar woman, instead he surprised her. And didn't he always?!

"Why would you do that?!"

"Because you are attractive. Can I kiss you again?"

A few moment went by during which he did not respond, his eyes searching her face for her motive and Bulma decided to be brave.

She leaned forward again, blue fixed on black, as she pressed another kiss to his shoulder. When he did not recoil from her touch she placed her hand on his strong bicep and angled herself up to reach his collarbone. That earned her a deep inhale, and from the corner of her eyes she could see his hand gripping the couch.

He tasted good, almost as good as he smelled. A scent so alien it invaded her senses and imprinted itself with such force she felt dizzy. Spicy and masculine. And hot. Kami he was hot.

Her kisses slowly trailed from his collar bone up the side of his neck, to the shell of his ear, to his cheek, all the while holding his intense gaze before coming to a hovering stop over his mouth. Their breaths intermingled and she darted a quick glance to his lips. This close she could tell that his bottom lip appear to be slightly fuller than his top and she subconsciously chewed her own just thinking about what it would be like to suck on his lower lip.

When her gaze returned to his face she was met by dark guarded eyes that were dancing with curiosity. She'd been right, he had never been kissed before, and he was trying his best to not appear eager.

Carefully and slowly she shifted on the couch till she was straddling his lap, she now regretted her choice of night attire, an oversized sweater that provided a thick layer between herself and his naked torso. His breath hitched for a short second when she settled in his lap, but she was pleased beyond words when his hands finally touched her. Settling on her hips, protected by fabric, on their own accord. They were large, and strong, just as warm as the rest of him, and they tightened their hold of her minimally when she brought her hands up to cup his face.

It was now or never. Darting one more short glance to his eyes she focused on his lips, her own blue oceans sliding closed as, carefully and slowly, she brought her own lips to his. Full and soft, with a lingering taste of the ice cream they both consumed, just as she had hoped.