How Am I Supposed to Live Without You

One Shot

"It's beautiful, Bulma!" Mrs. Briefs gushed as she admired the large engagement ring on her daughter's finger. "I'm so happy for you! It's about time he asked."

Bulma smiled back at her mother. "Yeah, I thought he'd never ask. But he finally did," she said sitting down.

"How in the world did he pay for it?" Mrs. Briefs said as she busied herself around the kitchen.

"Well," Bulma said pausing, twisting a napkin in her hands, "he didn't actually pay for it."

Mrs. Briefs turned to her daughter in surprise. "Don't tell me he's stealing again?"

"Oh, no, Mother," Bulma said reassuringly.

"So . . . ."

"Well, I paid for it," Bulma said, not looking at her mother.

Mrs. Briefs sighed and turned away from her daughter. She started to wash the dishes. "Bulma-"

"Mom, I know," she said getting up and starting to pace. "But he said he'd pay me back. Mom, he finally asked; that's gotta count for something."

Mrs. Briefs sighed again. "I suppose, Bulma. I'm happy for you."

"Oh, thank you, Mom." Bulma briefly hugged her mother and then went to her home across the property.

At that moment a very tired Saiyan Prince walked into then kitchen. He sat down grumpily at the table and stared at Mrs. Briefs. He hadn't been on this side of the compound for what seemed like a long time—only last month he had been complaining about the woman's cooking to Mrs. Briefs; he needed some good cooking, not that nasty stuff the woman called food.

Mrs. Briefs turned around and almost dropped the dish she was drying. "Why, Vegeta! I haven't seen you for so long. Where have you been?" she said cheerily. She had always liked Vegeta even though he had once threatened to destroy the world. She thought he was awfully cute for an alien.

"Woman, I've been where I've always been: training."

"Are you hungry, Vegeta? I could whip something up for you?" Mrs. Briefs said putting the dish away.

"Anything you cook is better than that woman's cooking," he said.

"Yeah, Bulma never did quite catch on to cooking, but she certainly got her father's brains," Mrs. Briefs said.

"That's the only thing she got," Vegeta muttered, his arms crossed and a scowl painted on his face.

Mrs. Briefs made Vegeta a feast. She still remembered how much he used to eat when he had lived on this side of the compound. She sat down across from him and watched him eat. She was surprised that he had come over to her side without Bulma. She never expected that; this would probably be the closest thing to a visit he would ever do, but she understood. Vegeta liked to be alone.

He ignored her; he was used to her staring. He wished she would stop, but he put up with it. No matter what people said, he wasn't that bad; he knew these people took him in and he should be grateful.

"Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs said, "do you know Bulma's getting married?" Mrs. Briefs always thought her daughter would fall for the Saiyan, and was surprised she hadn't.

Vegeta sputtered on his food and glared at her. "What? To who?"

And then it hit him: she was getting married to that weakling. He lost his appetite. To be living with that woman and that baka; it was too much for him. Of course, she just might move out, or try to; but he wouldn't let her. He needed her to fix the gravity machine wherever it broke.

"Why, to Yamcha, of course," she said.

Vegeta pushed his plate away and got up. "I'm not hungry anymore."

He was walking to the door when Mrs. Briefs's hand stopped him. "Vegeta," she called to him gently.

He turned to look at her.

"You know the only way she won't is if you ask her."

Vegeta looked at her and understood: the woman wouldn't marry that baka if he asked her to not to. Mrs. Briefs wasn't as stupid as he had originally thought. "I'll think about it." He pulled away from her.

"Don't think too long: you just might lose her."

Vegeta touched down on the Son's yard later that day. He needed to talk to someone. Kakkarot was the only other Saiyan alive, and though he was a little out there, Vegeta couldn't talk to anyone else. Possibly, Kakkarot might be the only one able to help him; he was Saiyan, though he certainly didn't act like one—except for the fighting skills.

The Saiyan in his thoughts came out to greet him. "Hey, Vegeta."

Vegeta grunted.

"What's up?" Goku asked.

"I need to talk to you."

"Oh, sure. Come, let's go somewhere private. I'm sure you don't want everyone to hear what you need to say." Goku led the way to a secluded clearing in the woods by his house. "So, what's up?" he said.

Vegeta stood across from him, his arms crossed. He looked down at the floor. "The woman's getting married."

Goku's face lit up. "Really? Wow, congratulations, Vegeta," he said innocently.

Vegeta shot him a look. "What makes you think she's getting married to me?"

Goku's face fell. "What do you mean? If she's not getting married to you, then who is she getting married to?"

"That weakling," Vegeta sneered.

"Oh." Goku looked down at the ground and kicked some rocks around.

"Kakkarot, you never answered my question: what made you think that she was getting married to me?" he asked.

"Well, I- um-" Goku stuttered.

"Just answer me!" he roared. He powered up slightly, a ki blast forming in his left hand.

"Okay, all right. I promised I wouldn't tell, but I guess I have to," Goku said, raising his hands in surrender, trying to calm the Saiyan Prince down.

Vegeta sat down and looked at Kakkarot.

"You remember that boy from the future?" Goku started.

Vegeta nodded.

"Well, he's your son," Goku said, cringing.

"My what?!" Vegeta yelled standing up. "How can he-"

"Think about it: he's Super Saiyan, he looks like you, he has purple hair, he was wearing a Capsule Corp. jacket . . . ." Goku said, trying to make Vegeta understand.

Vegeta sat back down. It did make sense. He and the woman mated and the boy was a product of that. He looked at Kakkarot. "But, the woman is getting married to-" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"All he told me was who his parents were. He said that Bulma loved you very much, but you died in battle with the androids, so he grew up with no father. That's why he was staring at you. He knew what you looked like, but to see you in person was mind boggling, I guess," Goku said.

"Did she get married to that idiot in his timeline?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't think Yamcha even asked her. But in this timeline he did, and the only way you can stop it and get your son is to tell her how you feel," Goku advised.

Vegeta clenched his fists, angry. "What makes you think I have any feelings for that woman?"

"You came here and practically told me yourself, Vegeta. Bulma didn't need you to tell me that she was getting married."

Damn, he couldn't even fool Kakkarot. "What should I do?" he asked.

"That's simple: tell her," Goku said.

"That's it? You expect her to just give up that idiot and come to me?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well, from there it's her choice. But if she loved you that much in Trunks's timeline, I'm sure she will in this one," Goku said getting up.

Vegeta followed. "You know, Kakkarot, you're not as stupid as I thought you were."

Goku looked at him, scratching his head. "Thanks, I guess," he said.

"Maybe not," Vegeta thought. As they walked back to Kakkarot's house, he said, "She named him Trunks?"

Vegeta sat sullenly at the kitchen table and watched the woman as she prepared his dinner. She was unusually quiet, and had still not told him that she was getting married. By now he was probably the only one in the world that she didn't tell, and he wondered why not. She didn't think he'd really care, did she? She placed a heaping pile of food before him. He looked at it disdainfully and pushed it away. "I'm not hungry," he said getting up. He left the kitchen with the woman staring after him. He made his way out the door and flew up to the top of the house to think.

He looked up at the stars, at the place where Vegetasei would have been. Now it was just an empty space, like he was feeling now. Why should he feel this way about the woman getting married? It's not like he cared, right? But he couldn't convince himself of this. He felt like his soul was being ripped right out of his body. It was worse than the pain Frieza inflicted on him when he was alive. It was dying on the inside, and having to live in a body healthy and full of life. He had many years yet left to live—unless he did die when the androids came which he thought was unlikely, otherwise, why had the boy come to warn them? Saiyan's had very long life spans; he and Kakkarot would outlive everyone on this planet: their mates, possibly their half-breed children, and the rest of the Z team, with the exception of Piccolo. If he had to live like this, with this pain, it would be unbearable. He might as well just die when the androids came.

His thoughts were interrupted by the woman; she had found her way up to the roof and was sitting silently next to him. He continued to stare at where Vegetasei once was, ignoring her. She stared off in the opposite direction.

"I'm getting married, Vegeta," she said to him after a time.

"I know."

She turned to look at him, startled. "How do you know?"

"Your mother told me."

"She did? When?" she asked perplexed.

"This morning."

"You saw her this morning?"

"How do you suppose she told me if I didn't see her this morning?" he asked irritated.

"Why'd you see her?"

"I was hungry," he said. "On Vegetasei, we know when we should be grateful for something. We never had to express it much, but we do when there is a need to. I figured if I went to see your mother once in a while—using the excuse for food—she would understand how I feel."

She stared at him, amazed.

"Woman, you better close your mouth before flies get in."

She closed her mouth and looked down at the roof. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Woman, there are a lot of things you don't know about me," he said looking at her. He lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. He saw emotion flicker across her eyes: fear, confusion . . . desire. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. She received him readily, opening her mouth to him. Her tongue was gentle and insistent. He tore himself away from her and levitated off the roof.

"Vegeta-" she called to him, reaching out with her right hand.

"Woman, you're a weakness."

He flew off into the night.

Vegeta didn't return for two months. He knew the woman wasn't married yet. He had only seen Kakkarot in that time and found out that she would be getting married in about two months, July 10th to be exact. It was now the day before the wedding and he watched the woman as she busily made the finishing touches on her gown and refreshments and whatever else she needed to do around the house. He noticed that Mrs. Briefs was a little quiet, though still talkative, but she seemed a little depressed. Mr. Briefs just stared at his daughter. He and the woman seemed to be at odds with each other, neither backing down. "This should be an interesting day," he thought. The two looked like they would explode sometime soon, certainly before the wedding the next day.

"Okay, streamers, favors . . . Mom, you have your dress, right?" the woman asked her mother as she looked at her checklist.

Mrs. Briefs nodded.

"Dad . . . Dad do you have your tux?" she said looking at her father.

Mr. Briefs looked at his daughter. "Bulma, I have a tux, but I'm not walking you down that aisle, not to that man you're marrying. I won't give you away to him."

Vegeta's eyes flicked from one to the other as they began to slug it out.

"Dad, I love him, and I will get married to him tomorrow," she said firmly.

"Bulma, I can't stop you, but I won't help you either. It's your life, but I won't be apart of that," he said stubbornly.

"Dad, aren't you happy? He finally asked me."

"Do I look happy? Neither your mother nor I approve of this man."

The woman looked at her mother. Mrs. Briefs nodded her head in agreement.

"Dad, Mom would have me marry Vegeta," she said exasperated.

Mr. Briefs looked seriously at his daughter. "So would I."

Vegeta almost fell out of the sky. He looked down at the man in surprise. Not only did he have the mother's approval, but he had the father's too? This was getting weird.

The woman's jaw dropped. "What?" she screamed.

"At least Vegeta has honor. He wouldn't make you buy your own engagement ring; he wouldn't back down from a fight for you if the opponent is stronger. I hardly ever see him, but I see him more often that I see your fiancé. He comes to see your mother once a month except for these last two months because nobody knows where he is. He may argue with you, he may make you rage, but he never hurt you, and we all know that if you were ever in trouble he'd be right there to get you out," Mr. Briefs said hotly. "Can you say the same thing for Yamcha?"

She looked down at the floor. "No," she said quietly.

"Then I won't walk you down that aisle," he said sternly. Mr. Briefs's shoulders sagged a bit and he walked over to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bulma, honey, Yamcha is not the right one. I won't condone a marriage that I know is doomed to fail. Can't you wait until the right one comes along, or, until Vegeta does?" he asked her.

She tore herself away from her fathers grasp and ran out of the house.

Mr. Briefs was about to follow when Vegeta stepped in his way. He looked at Vegeta uncertainly. "I'll speak to her," was all Vegeta said before he flew off in her direction.

Mr. Briefs watched, relieved. Vegeta had come back, hopefully in the nick of time.

Vegeta found her on the roof, where he had left her two months ago. It was pouring rain. Her blue hair hung limply around her face. Her blue eyes were red and puffy from crying, though he could hardly see the difference between her tears and the rain. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and she looked miserably over the compound. He landed softly next to her and swept her up in his arms. She cried out in protest, pounding her fists on his chest, not knowing who he was. He held her close to him, flaring his ki so that she wouldn't catch a cold, and flew her into the house. She continued to cry against him, but her pounding stopped. She clung to him as he tried to put her down on her bed and get her tucked in underneath her comforter. Wearied from her continual crying and unable to pry her off of him, he laid on the bed with her on top of him. He quietly whispered to her as she cried, comforting her as best as he could.

Vegeta jumped into his fighting stance as the woman screeched in his ear. He looked around and saw no one but her. She looked at him frightened. He lowered down his hands and stared at her. They must have fallen asleep.

"V-Vegeta," she stuttered.

Vegeta ran a hand over his face. "Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here, remember?" he said. He made his way to her door.

"No, what were you doing in my bed?" she asked, her voice a little more sure.

He looked at her, his eyes weary and tired. "Woman, you almost caught your death on the roof. I brought you inside and you wouldn't let go of me. So I just laid down right next to you." He turned back to the door and grasped the knob.

"Vegeta?" she said again.

He sighed and turned back once again.

"Do . . . do you love me?" she asked.

He didn't answer her.

Vegeta watched the festivities from the corner of the Briefs's living room. He supposed the room was as beautiful as it could get, but he could think of a few things that could make it better. It paled in comparison to Vegetasei's palace throne room, but he kept reminding himself that this was earth. He watched everyone as they made their way in and sat down on the chairs that he had helped the Briefs's put out this morning. Mr. Briefs had pulled him aside for a moment.

"Vegeta," he said. "How did it go yesterday?"

"Fine."

"Why is she still getting married to him then?" Mr. Briefs said waving his hand in Yamcha's direction.

Vegeta gave him a trust-me' look. Mr. Briefs nodded and moved away.

Vegeta saw Piccolo enter the room. He grunted and acknowledged Piccolo. The Namek nodded and moved to the other side of the room, standing in the corner. Vegeta smiled. They were so much alike, it was unbelievable; but they only had a shaky truce between them. They didn't really trust each other enough, though both men trusted Kakkarot with their lives. But Vegeta was relieved to see at least Piccolo there. He and Piccolo both agreed that the weakling was an idiot, and he vaguely remembered Piccolo saying that he knew what that boy had said. He wouldn't be surprised if Piccolo just came to see the fireworks.

He saw Krillin enter with Marron, then Tien and Chaotzu. Master Roshi was followed by Oolong, Turtle, and Puar. Then finally Kakkarot and his family came in, followed by the Ox King. Kakkarot saw him and made his way over to him.

"Hey, Vegeta. Glad you could make it," Goku said patting Vegeta on the back.

Vegeta saw Piccolo glance at them and then turn his gaze back to the party. He was sure the Namek was listening. "So am I," Vegeta said.

"So," Goku said, lowering his voice. "Are you going to let her go through with it?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, Kakkarot," he said.

Goku nodded understanding. "Just don't kill him."

"I won't make any promises."

Goku looked at him one final time and sighed. He walked away to his family.

Vegeta glanced at Piccolo; the green man stared straight ahead.

Two hours later the ceremony had still not started. Vegeta was getting annoyed. He watched the idiot as he flirted with Marron, Krillin's girlfriend. "Even at his own wedding," he muttered. He saw Piccolo smirk.

Yamcha spotted Vegeta and stopped. He made his way over to the cocky Saiyan.

"So, Vegeta, you decided to show up," he said.

Vegeta looked at him with a blank face. The weakling smelled strongly of another woman, actually, several other women. He turned away in disdain and looked in another direction, ignoring him.

"Vegeta, it's my wedding day. Couldn't we call a truce for today?" Yamcha said, trying to make amends with the Saiyan.

Vegeta looked him straight in the eye. "Dare you speak to me about calling a truce because it's your wedding day when you were out fooling around with some girl last night?" Vegeta saw Piccolo stiffen: he had heard.

Yamcha looked at the Saiyan surprised.

Vegeta smirked. "I can smell it. And it wasn't just one woman, but several."

Yamcha relaxed a bit. "You can't prove a thing."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "Remember: you are living in my house. If you ever hurt her, you will be living in the next dimension. Now go away," Vegeta said, dismissing him.

Yamcha backed away and took off to stand with Krillin and Marron. He threw the Saiyan dirty glances every now and then.

"Of course, that is if you even get married today," Vegeta said. He turned to look at Piccolo and saw him nodding in agreement.

Vegeta was looking around the room smugly when he heard an organ start playing some awful tune. Everyone sat down in their seats and turned to look at the back door. The idiot took his place by the altar. The wedding procession was boring so he stared off into space, letting his mind run away. He was brought back to reality when he heard the song change. He looked at the door and his breath caught in his throat.

The woman stood there in a flowing white dress. She held a bouquet of flowers in her white gloved hands. She looked around and saw Vegeta. She stared at him for a second before taking her first step towards the altar. He was captured in her blue eyes. He felt like he was drowning. She walked gracefully down the aisle by herself, his eyes never leaving her. She calmly stepped next to the idiot and placed her arm around his. Vegeta watched as they said their vows, promising everlasting love to one another. He felt his blood start to boil as the weakling looked at her, not realizing how much he would gain if Vegeta let the ceremony finish. "I suppose he'll never know," Vegeta thought. Several times he wanted to stop them, but it wasn't time yet.

"If there is anyone who would contest this union please say so now or forever hold your peace?" the priest finally said.

Vegeta felt four pairs of eyes upon him: Kakkarot, the Briefs, and Piccolo. He looked at the woman, but her gaze was directed to the floor. Now was the moment of truth, and he could feel that everyone in the room knew. "I do," he said, stepping out of the shadows.

Yamcha shot him an angry look and she turned, tears in her eyes.

Vegeta silently made his way down the altar, never taking his eyes off of the woman. The world around him seemed to have stopped for this moment. He took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes.

"Bulma," he said, remembering how she hated to be called woman, "I have needed you since the first day I laid eyes on you. I know we have our problems, and that I have a hard time expressing my feelings for you, but I can't let you marry this man. How am I supposed to live without you? I can't. Please don't marry him. Marry . . . me."

The room was silent as they waited to see what Bulma would say. Vegeta saw so many emotions pass through her eyes, but he saw what that boy from the future said: she loved him. She closed her eyes and nodded once, letting the tears flow down her cheeks.

He pulled her into an embrace and closed his eyes. She clung to him as she did the night before and cried. The idiot stared at them in disbelief, along with most of the congregation. But Vegeta ignored them, holding his bride in his arms. He heard the priest cough and he looked at him. "Yes?"

"I suppose this means you two will be getting married today then?" he asked the new couple.

Vegeta looked at the woman. She was ready. He turned to the priest. "No."

Everyone gasped, including the woman.

He looked at her. "Woman, if we're going to do this, we're going to do this my way."

She smiled, pulling off her veil and gently cuffed him on his head saying, "Well, Veg-Head: took you long enough."

Vegeta smiled. He gently kissed her and carried her down the aisle, leaving a very distraught weakling staring after them.

Two months later . . .

The living room was decorated again, though this time a little differently. Vegeta spent much of his time replicating the throne room at Vegetasei, from the painted tapestries to the fountains. As the people entered the room, they looked around wonderingly at the craftsmanship of the decorations.

The woman stood at the door again in a new white dress. It was a short dress, made of silk that came down to her knees. It had white cranes flying across the fabric. Her blue hair was up and decorated with little flowers. She held no bouquet in her perfectly manicured hands. Mr. Briefs extended his arm and she gratefully took a hold of it. He walked his only child down the aisle to the Saiyan Prince.

Vegeta had on a replica of his royal battle armor, similar to the armor he used everyday. He had a purple cape on his back, attached to his armor in the front with two golden crests of Vegetasei, one on each shoulder. He wore a white top and a black bottom. He extended his arm out to the woman, and Mr. Briefs gave it to him, nodding to Vegeta.

"I give you my daughter," Mr. Briefs said.

Vegeta nodded. "I will guard her with my life."

Mr. Briefs nodded and turned away.

Before them stood the same priest. He smiled at the couple and began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Prince Vegeta and Miss Bulma Briefs." The priest droned on for several more minutes. Vegeta stared at the woman, unbelieving that she would be his in a few moments. "If there is anyone who would contest this union please say so now or forever hold your peace?" the priest asked once again.

Vegeta closed his eyes, wondering if that weakling would say anything. He felt everyone turn to gaze at the idiot. He smirked and gripped the woman's hand harder. He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him intensely. No one said a word.

The priest looked around. Satisfied that he would actually finish the ceremony this time, he said, "Since there is no one, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Vegeta brought her closer to him, encircling her in his arms. "Ashiteru." he whispered in her ear.

She smiled. "Ashiteru."

He kissed her.