It was only the following morning that Vegeta woke feeling invigorated enough to jump out of bed, ripping the tubes and wires off as he went. The heart monitor fell into a flatline of continuous screeching, which brought Bulma flying through the door in only a few seconds' time.

"Vegeta!" She gasped, watching in horror as he punched the heart rate machine to shut it up. At hearing his name, he swung around, looking at if he were about the blast whoever had just yelled at him. However, as he locked eyes with the Bluehead's, his temper seemed to be put on hold.

He paused in mid-stride, his dark eyes piercing into her light blue orbs, and Bulma could swear she saw the anger on his face soften for a brief moment. He stared, looking as if he were fighting to compose himself, his olive cheeks paling with his frozen pose. And, just when the Bluehead thought he would finally say something, the saiyan suddenly broke into a dash, running past her as he made for to door.

"Vegeta!" Bulma called, her eyes following him as he went. She listened to his determined feet as they scurried downstairs, knowing fully well what he was off to do. Instead of chasing after him, she made her way to the far end of the room instead. When she reached the window that overlooked the majority of her backyard, she watched as Vegeta ran into the grass below. The Saiyan came to an abrupt stop when he didn't find what it was he was looking for. Seeing this as her opportunity, Bulma swung the window open and yelled out to the Saiyan below. "What are you doing?!" She called, slamming her hands down on the window sill.

This got Vegeta's attention, for he flew straight up in the air, stopping at her window to hover at face level. "Woman!" He barked, no longer holding back his temper. "Where's my ship!"

"It's down in the lab! Where do you think it is!" Bulma snapped back, leaning out as she scowled.

"You told me it would be ready when I recovered!"

"That's right, it'll be ready when you're recovered!" He was starting to distance himself, so Bulma leaned out the window further still. "It's not ready yet, and you still need to rest, Vegeta! What do you think you're doing, destroying the medical equipment like that!?"

"What I do is none of your concern, Woman!" The enraged saiyan reared his teeth. "Get yourself in the lab and finish my ship at once! The time I've lost already is unacceptable! I won't be held back anymore!" It was at this that Vegeta spun and began to fly away, leaving Bulma to helplessly watch as her angry heart pounded in her ears.

"Hey!" She screamed, but he didn't acknowledge her shouts. "You can't talk to me like that!" The Bluehead was so beside herself at Vegeta's audacity that she pushed herself out even further, hoping her voice would project far enough to get his attention. In her fury she made the mistake of moving too quick, though, and Bulma let out a yip as she suddenly lost her balance and turned head first, her feet losing touch with the floor.

How stupid she'd been! She'd let herself get so carried away with her emotion that she'd managed to topple out her own second-story window! Bulma closed her eyes as she screamed, the wind hitting her face as she went. Even though it was a fast fall, she was somehow feeling as if everything was moving in slow motion.

'I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been so mad!' She thought bitterly. It wouldn't have happened if that prince-of-all-Jerks hadn't continued to talk down to her like a servant - despite all the effort she'd put into making sure he'd healed from his accident! Did he care at all? Enough to start showing her a little bit of respect? No – of course not! He didn't even care enough about himself to make sure he'd recuperated enough before flying out of bed! And now she was going to plummet to the ground, to either die or break every bone in her body, all because of him!

"You bastard!" She screamed, too angry about her fate to even be scared. He might have been ignoring her yells, but she knew he could hear them, and she was going to make sure she spoke her mind with her last words. "How dare you talk to me like-!"

And, before she could finish her final thought, she landed on something with an "oomf!". Before the Bluehead even understood what had happened, her arms were instinctively wrapping around his neck. Even as she held him her mind hadn't quite registered the situation, and slowly she opened her eyes to see two dark irises glaring back.

A lump formed in her lungs, her breath suddenly catching in her throat. This wasn't the first time that someone had saved her from falling to painful end, and it certainly wasn't the first time she was clinging to a man who was hovering in mid-air as he flew the both of them to safety. However, she had never expected such a thing to happen with… well, Him.

She'd been carried around as Goku, Yamcha, or even Krillin had flown her to one destination or another. But never before had she felt such warm arms, their reluctant grip around her waist so effortlessly confident. Bulma studied his chiseled face as heat ran to her cheeks, finding herself to be at a complete loss of words.

"What's this about a bastard?" Vegeta scoffed as he broke eye contact, lowing the two back to the ground. When his feet touched the Earth's soil, he let go of her in a manner that was certainly not gentle. In fact, he dropped her.

"Hey!" She yelped, as her body crashed into the grass. She jumped back on her feet, furiously rubbing her arm for effect.

"Don't complain. Compared to how you would have landed if I hadn't caught you, that was nothing." The saiyan scowled. "And don't get any ideas, Woman. I only saved you to ensure that my ship is repaired in good time." With that, he turned and began to march away. "I'm going to train in the woods. I'll be checking up on your progress shortly. Get to work. Now!"

.

"Jerk! Stupid, arrogant, self-centered, intolerable, pompous, spoiled, miserable, thankless jerk!"

A week had passed, and Bulma was sitting at the desk in her father's basement lab. She was biting her lip as she tinkered with a memory chip for the ship's computer system. This was something she'd had trouble with the last time she'd helped her father build the ship, and the Bluehead was furious that she was having to suffer through such a task all over again. It wasn't that she didn't know what to do, but the logistics were so complex that it required absolute concentration to not mess the entire motherboard up, and she had far too much on her mind to concentrate.

It didn't help matters that the phone was ringing, yet again, and she knew exactly who was on the other end of the line. Yamcha had been relentlessly calling her for weeks, and he didn't seem willing to stop any time soon. His behavior was typical – this wasn't the first break that the couple had taken – but it'd certainly been one of their longest in quite some time. It had been nearly a month since the two had decided to call it quits, and it seemed that the Z-Fighter was starting to get rather antsy about it.

His desperation didn't work to make Bulma feel guilty, though, despite his efforts. After all, in her mind, he deserved to be insecure. With another curse about the egomaniac saiyan that was currently doing pushups in the other room, Bulma slammed her screwdriver down on the desk and picked up the receiver of the phone. "What!" She barked. "What – what! What is it?! I'm busy, and you know it!"

"Hey!" The voice on the other end replied, sounding a bit too offended for her taste. Her mood should have been no surprise to the Z-Fighter. What had he been expecting when he insisted on being so intrusive?

"If you have something to say, just tell me." She hissed. "You know I've got a lot going on, and you're choosing to harass me! What is so damned important that it can't wait!"

"Look, B. Can't I just come by? We need to talk about this in person. This has been going on for too long."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Bulma snapped. "You're the one who never shuts up about how much I suffocate you and make you feel caged! So, why don't you give that blondie a call, and leave me the hell alone!" With that she slammed the phone back down on its base, ending the conversation with a shrill curse that she hoped would leave Yamcha's ears ringing for hours.

Perhaps she had allowed herself to yell a little too loud. Bulma cringed as the basement door suddenly slammed open.

"Woman!" She spun around in her seat to see the spiky-haired saiyan making his way downstairs. "Are you done with my ship yet!"

This had become rather normal for Vegeta. It seemed that every time Bulma would answer the phone and get into a shouting match with Yamcha, the irritable saiyan would quickly appear and demand to know the progress of his damned spaceship. "Oh, be quiet!" She replied, turning back to her desk and waving a hand over her shoulder. "You know I'm doing it as fast as I can. Give me until the end of the week."

"Unacceptable! I'd be training in it right now if you didn't spend so much time having vapid conversations with that swine!"

That was it. She'd had enough of him barking at her like this. He'd certainly been known to speak to her in a harsh manner. But ever since he'd woken up from his coma after the explosion, his attitude had been excessively bad. Bulma slammed her hands down on the desk, pushing herself up from her chair. "That swine has a name!" She barked, putting as much authority into her voice as she could muster. "And my social interactions are none of your business!"

"When your behavior impedes your productivity, it is my business." He growled back. Truth be told, he was taken by surprise to see how aggressively she was suddenly defending the scar-faced vermin. Hadn't she just finished yelling at him? What was with her?

"You'll get your ship when it's ready. Maybe if you stopped coming in here every hour to yell at me about my progress, I'd be finished by now!" The Bluehead raised a finger to point it at the saiyan as she snarled. "Now get out of my lab and let me work! And don't you ever try to tell me what I can and cannot do again!"

It was hard not to lash back at someone when they spoke to the Prince of all saiyans in such a way. Gritting his teeth, Vegeta turned, thinking that if it had been anyone else who had been talking to him like that, they'd be dead by now. He made his way back up the stairs to continue with his training regimen, cursing under his breath as he went. He could hear Bulma let out an obscenity of her own as she dropped back into her chair, could hear the sound of something smashing as she presumably threw it across the room. Vegeta couldn't help but think that he might have been intimidated by her if he was one of the males that came from this weak planet. She certainly knew how to make herself seem several centimeters taller when she was mad – that was for sure!

.

It was only the following night when Vegeta stepped out of the shower, still running a towel through his spiky hair, when he heard a voice that was so irritating that he instantly fell into a rage. But was it really true? Why would he be here?

Clad with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Vegeta stepped out into the hallway and began a march for his room. He passed the open door of Bulma's on his way, glancing inside to see none other than the fiend himself – Yamcha – sitting on her bed. The two men locked eyes with one another, and the saiyan could tell by the flair in Yamcha's eyes that the Z-Fighter was none-too-pleased to be seeing him, either. Vegeta stopped in his tracks, looking into the room as he held the towel protectively, lest it suddenly decide to fall to the floor and expose himself for the scoundrel to see.

Bulma was standing on the other end of the room with her arms crossed, and she seemed surprised when she looked up to see Vegeta in her doorway. There was a scowl pursed across her lips, but for a moment it seemed to fade when her eyes found a particular spot on the saiyan's chest.

This act of blatant attraction from the earth Woman was not anything new. She'd been doing it a lot lately - although it had become less frequent since Vegeta had begun to make a point in being a complete jackass towards her. The look she had in her eyes now, though, was enough to make him wish he'd never even stepped foot outside the bathroom at all. All his hard work at turning her away seemed to be undone in just that quick second! The saiyan quickly looked away from the Bluehead, landing a strict glare on Yamcha before turning and continuing down the hall.

"That monster is still staying here?" Yamcha growled once Vegeta had disappeared from sight.

"Of course he is!" Bulma hissed back.

"Whatever. If he ever does anything to hurt you, babe, you let me know." The Z-Fighter rearranged himself on the bed, finding a more comfortable position. It took a lot of self-control for Bulma to keep from making a snarky comment about the irony of that statement. Vegeta was an arse – and at times could be downright cold - but he'd never done anything callous that was intended to specifically hurt her. Yamcha, on the other hand, had never laid a hand on the Bluehead, but he'd certainly made it a habit of making verbal jabs when he was feeling cornered in an argument. Bulma bit her tongue, trying to remind herself that she'd decided to try and move on from their most recent fight.

The truth was, though, that Bulma had been feeling sick to her stomach ever since the Z-Fighter had knocked on her door. This definitely hadn't been their first fight. In the past, despite how furious she'd become with the immature Z-Fighter during one of their feuds, she was always happy to see his face and eager to move on after receiving an apology.

This time however, as he wrapped his hands around her waist after she answered the door, Bulma found herself turning her head to avoid receiving a wet peck on the lips. The thought of kissing him made her want to gag – the thought of him touching her just felt wrong! And, despite how upset she'd been with Yamcha as of late, the realization that she didn't want to be anywhere near him was a hard burden to swallow. Shouldn't she at least feel comfortable when he tried to hug her? Shouldn't she feel something other than repulsion?

It had only been a few minutes, and she was still in the shock of it as she watched him laying on her bed. "Why don't you come over here, B?" Yamcha was saying now, patting the empty space next to him as he reclined against the headboard. "You seem like something's bothering you."

If she hadn't been so overwhelmed with an odd sense of grief, thinking that this time her relationship with Yamcha might truly be over, she would have snapped something back about how insensitive he was. This was the first time in nearly a month that they were together in the same room, and he was already acting as if nothing had happened between them, and that he hadn't done anything wrong!

But Bulma, who was so distracted by her own worrying thoughts, couldn't even bother to say anything back. Instead she slowly stepped towards the bed, taking a reluctant seat next to the Z-Fighter and gulping down the lump that was weighing in her throat. The two had been together for so long – why did it give her anxiety to think about him wanting to embrace her? Why was it that, even as he attempted to wrap an arm around her shoulders, all she could think about was the image of Vegeta's chiseled muscles? Why did the idea of rekindling things with Yamcha feel like a betrayal to the hotheaded saiyan? Vegeta had made it quite obvious that he wanted little to do with her - there was nothing to betray!

What was wrong with her?!

She had shrugged off Yamcha's arm, and he was now attempting to wrap it around her shoulders again. She scooted away from him this time, shaking her head. "What's wrong?" He asked, his voice taking on a sad tone. In the past this might have worked to make ease her mood, but now when she heard it she wanted to do nothing less than hurl.

"This is too soon." Bulma announced, standing back on her feet and stepping away from the bed. "I'm sorry. But I can't-"

"How are we supposed to make up if you won't even let me get near you?" Yamcha cut in.

"Because I'm still upset, okay!" Bulma shot back. She went to her desk, where a glass of water was resting, and downed the drink with one nervous swig. There was just too much on her mind – it was swirling with too many thoughts!

Was she really as repulsed by Yamcha as she thought she was? Or were her feelings about him just being hindered because of her sudden attraction towards Vegeta? Hell – she'd always found Vegeta to be a treat for the eyes, and never before had it been enough to affect her feelings towards her own boyfriend!

Was it because the two had been on a break for so long, and it would simply take time for them to fall back into the swing of things?

Was she just too stressed about the damned spaceship to emotionally focus on romance?

What was going on?!

"Did you hear me?!"

Bulma shook her head, snapping out of her own thoughts. Her heart was pounding now, and she was fighting back the urge to burst into tears. There was a tightening in her stomach – a feeling of impending doom. A sinking sensation that was telling her that nothing would ever be quite the same. A voice in her head that was whispering that she and Yamcha were never going to move past this latest quarrel. But she wasn't ready to hear it – this was all still too fresh for her to comprehend.

"Hello? Hey – Bulma! What's with you?" Yamcha was waving his hands in the air now, looking like a mad puppet who didn't know how to control his arms. "Are you gonna say anything, babe?"

"I think you should go." Bulma blurted. It nearly came out as a cough, and she really did feel as if she were about to choke.

"What?" Yamcha sat upright. Any concern that had been on his face quickly transitioned to anger, and he slammed a hand down on the blanket beneath him. "You're the one who asked me to come all the way over here, and now you're telling me to leave!? What for!?"

Kami, she wasn't ready to tell him how she was feeling. She still needed to process everything – to make sense of her own thoughts – and she hated it. This limbo that their relationship was in had been going on for long enough, and the last thing she wanted was to lie to him and let things continue.

But she just couldn't express to him how she felt – not yet! She needed a few days to think things over! She needed to understand things herself before confessing it all to him! Bulma shook her head, her veins bubbling with anxiety as she struggled to clear her mind of that damned Saiyan Prince! It was driving her crazy! Even in a moment like this, he was still on her mind!

"Are you gonna answer me, or are you just gonna stare all night?!" Yamcha was yelling now. It was almost amazing to see how upset he was! Even if he didn't know what she was feeling - he shouldn't have been too surprised that she wasn't perfectly fine. They hadn't even talked about what had happened between them. At the very least, she had a right to be mad.

"I'm sorry, okay!" She finally shot back. "I thought I was ready to discuss everything with you, but I just need more time!"

Before she had even finished speaking, Yamcha had already kicked himself off the bed. "Man, whatever!" He snapped back. "Thanks for nothing, Bulma!" And with that, he was gone.

The Bluehead walked to her door to watch as he made his way down the hall and towards the stairs. She listened as his footsteps stomped across the downstairs living room, through the foyer, and out the front door. She was light-headed, both with guilt and anger, as she leaned against her doorframe. Lamenting the fact that she hadn't just been honest, she cursed herself as she sighed. She hated to leave things in the state that they were in. Not only did she deserve better for herself, but she owed it to him. They'd been together for the better part of a decade, hadn't they?!

With a groan she shook her head. She was still overwhelmed with the need to sob. The Bluehead was about to turn back into her bedroom, wanting nothing more in that moment than to lay down and try to calm her mind. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye though, and Bulma looked up to see Vegeta standing at the door of his own room.

He was leaning against the doorframe, much like her, but there was a triumphant grin on his face rather than the remorse she was exhibiting. He had his arms crossed over his chest, staring at her, and somehow this filled Bulma with even more dread than she was already facing. "So." He said. "That went well, didn't it?"

"Shut up." She replied, furrowing her eyebrows.

"What was he doing here, anyway?" Vegeta continued. He pushed himself out from the doorframe and began to make his way towards her. Bulma wasn't too happy about where this conversation was going, but she was just relieved to see that Vegeta was at least wearing clothes now. "As long as I am staying here, that idiot shouldn't be allowed to come anywhere near this house." He continued.

"Right!" Bulma hissed sarcastically. Truth be told, she'd been so upset that she had completely forgotten why she'd invited Yamcha over in the first place. But now, after hearing Vegeta's cocky words, she could remember.

It was because of him!

That saiyan telling her what she could and couldn't do had only motivated her to defy him, and she'd been determined to make up with Yamcha just to prove a point! What a fool she was! Once again, Vegeta had gotten so far under her skin that she'd gotten herself into trouble after basing her actions on emotion!

Vegeta was standing right in front of her now, and she took a step back into her room. "Don't you forget what I told you yesterday. My social interactions are none of your business." She said, brandishing the door threateningly, as if she would slam it in his face at any moment. "I'll call whoever I want, whenever I want, and I'll be damned if you think you can tell me otherwise!"

Vegeta clenched his jaw at this. He'd assumed that Yamcha had invited himself over, but she had actually been the one to initiate such a thing? Was she really so dense? "I thought you both broke." He commented. Broke. Earth terms were so bizarre.

"We were on a break!" The Bluehead corrected. "Why should you care, anyway!"

"Don't flatter yourself!" The saiyan snarled. "What you do during your off-time is of no concern to me! The only thing I'm bothered by is the fact that you don't seem to have the ability to prevent your imbecile matters from affecting your productivity with my ship!"

"I told you it'll be done soon enough!" Bulma retorted. Her words ended in a pant, her chest heaving as she glared at the man in front of her. Vegeta had to fight to keep the surprise from showing on his face. Even as he watched, he could see her large blue eyes glistening as they quickly welled with tears.

'Oh, no.' He thought. But why was she going to cry this time? It seemed that Yamcha had a talent for reducing her to such a state – but, then again, Vegeta had seen her doing the same thing for him… So, what was it? Had Yamcha done something to her before his loud departure? Or perhaps had Vegeta's harsh behavior been the thing that had caused this?

Had he pushed her over the edge? He didn't want her to look at him the way she did. He didn't want her to speak to him in such a soft voice when they weren't in the middle of an argument! And, more than anything else, he didn't want to care. Vegeta was the prince of all saiyans! It shouldn't matter to him if some puny little Earth girl was sobbing in front of him – so why did it make him so damned uncomfortable?!

"I'll get your stupid ship done, then!" Bulma abruptly snapped, her voice cracking. She didn't want him to see when the tears finally fell, and she was far past the point of being able to hold them in. "I'm sick and tired of you giving me crap about the ship! I'll work overnight and finish it for once and for all! Then you can leave me the hell alone!"

She made to brush past him, to storm off towards the lab, but he stepped out to block her path. "Get away from me, you jerk!" She hissed as she turned away to hide her face. The first of her tears were falling, and now her voice was starting to quiver. "Get out of my way!"

"No."

"What do you mean, no?!"

"Go back to your room."

This was enough to make her look up, and she raised her eyebrows as wet lines rolled down her cheeks. "What?"

Vegeta was the one looking away now. He glared down at his own feet, unable to look her in the eyes. "Just go back to your room. I can wait until the end of the week."

"But..." Bulma wondered if this was some type of trick. "Why the sudden change? Just a second ago you were-"

"Go back to your room, Woman!" Vegeta interrupted, shaking his head as he continued to scowl at his feet. "I would much rather you take your time than to rush yourself and make mistakes in the programming. As long as it is done before the end of the week, I can wait."

She looked at him, wiping the tears away as she considered his words. Here it was again. The same man that could be so incredibly difficult and arrogant was now showing her some type of kindness that he was attempting to disguise with his criticizing words. She didn't know what had caused him to suddenly change his mind, but it seemed that he'd suddenly realized just how hurtful he'd been.

"Vegeta," She said, her voice softening. "Are you sure?"

There it was again. That tone in her voice. The one she'd been using more and more frequently around him. He picked his head up to shoot her a stern look, hoping it would mask the odd sensation he was suffering with. He saw her reddened cheeks contrasting with her naturally pale skin. The surprised look on her face despite the sadness that was lulling in her eyes. And, without saying another word, he turned away.

He went for his room – the same room he'd been sleeping in since he'd begun staying at the Briefs residence nearly five months earlier. The pounding of his heart was making him uneasy. 'Hate.' He told himself, even though he knew it wasn't true. 'Hate. I hate this, and that's why I feel so insane.'

He could hear as she shut her own door once again. Vegeta could make out the sound of her mattress creaking as she threw herself into it. And he rolled his eyes when he heard a soft squeak, a sob that she had failed to muffle. "Why does she torture herself by seeking the company of Him?" The saiyan growled. It was obvious that Yamcha's presence only had an ill-effect on her. Why did she seem so eager to accept that?

Wait a minute...

Vegeta raised his eyebrows as he shut off the light. Why should he care if she wanted to inflict herself with such pain? The saiyan cursed, laying down on his bed without bothering to get under the covers. "No - I don't care what she does…" He muttered, closing his eyes…

The memory of her in his arms as he saved her foolish body from falling had been haunting him each night since the occurrence, and tonight was no exception. He grit his teeth, trying to force the image of her face out of his mind as he rolled over. He was desperate to forget about how strange it was to have her clinging to him with so much trust as he'd flown.

Trust?

Why should she trust him?

And why did he care what she did with Yamcha?

He rolled over to his other side, groaning as he heard another sob creak from her room. "I just wish she'd concern herself with someone more fitting..." He growled. "Anyone else would do, really. Anyone but him."

Thanks again to everyone who read this story. As I mentioned before, this is the first part of a three-part series. The order of the stories is as follows

1) Anyone But Him
2) The 3 Year Gap
3) The 7 Year Gap

Feel free to check out the other two installments if you enjoyed this. Thanks again for reading!