Ok, it has been quite a while. I decided to update. I added titles to the seperate chapters. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 9

Bulma slowly opened her eyes to the daylight that was shining through her curtains. . She lay still and wondered what the time was. 'It must still be early' she figured. since she could still smell the dawn and hear some of the pigeons that lived just outside her balcony chirp, it couldn't be past noon. She stretched lazily, swung her legs over her bedside and wiggled them a little bit, getting the stiff feeling out of them. She stood up, grabbed a towel from her linen cupboard, locked the bathroom, unlocked it, got a washing cloth, locked it again and jumped under the shower. That's when the memories of yesterday evening came back to her.

And what a weird night it had been. She wanted to know she was still pretty, but she had never really gotten an answer from Mick. It was hard to decide whether or not a guy liked you, if all you did was constantly try to get away from him, like she'd done. He couldn't possibly have liked her. But not because she wasn't attractive, more because their interests were to far apart. There simply wasn't a click, as people like to call it. She put shampoo in her hair and started rubbing it in, enjoying it's flowery smell.
And then there had been Vegeta. And the thing that had happened. Or didn't happen. Almost happened. Had it even?

Her curiosity had made her sit next to him and they had actually talked, really talked, for the first time. She somehow started to see him in a different light over the past year. She realised that she never once felt threatened by Vegeta. She was just…interested. He was an interesting person, a mystery that, much like a science project, just screamed to be solved.
She rinsed out her hair and put in conditioner.
From the first moment she met him…, no even before that, from the first moment she had heard about him she had been intrigued by his character. After he started living in her house, her fascination had only gotten bigger. She had discovered that in many ways they were very much alike. They both knew what they wanted, how to get it and wouldn´t give up until they had it. Not easily anyway. Maybe that was why there had been a little tension…surely she hadn't imagined that?

He had leaned in to her, hadn't he? -- Of course he had! If not, she would seriously be very sexually frustrated to even come up with such a thing. Then again, why would he? He didn't even like her!

--Oh, doesn't he?—There was that annoying little voice again. Bulma rolled her eyes. – He seems to listen to you…and he's never ever even tried to hurt you…

Because there's no point in hurting me. In the end, he's going to need someone to fix his machine and find him new toys. Besides, he hardly listens to me. When I told him to take it slow, because he was injured, he actually told me to go away and leave him alone. Like I said, he doesn't listen to me at all.

-- More then he listens to anyone else anyway--

Well, yeah, but that doesn't automatically mean he wants to kiss me! Or that I want to kiss him!

-- You have almost done that already'--

I have not! And even if we did almost kiss, at least I didn't initiate it.

Satisfied with this answer, she pulled out a razor and started shaving her left leg. Until the voice started again:

-- Well, if you haven't initiated it, then that can mean only one thing, right?. –

She stopped dead in her tracks. Oh my!
That would mean that he had. Hey…wait a minute! He couldn't…

Memories of the past year flew by before her eyes; his return to her home, his silent tolerance towards her, the way he insulted her every now and then, just in a teasing manner. The way he watched her, when she was working on a big project. Or the occasional smile he sent her when she was beaming over a finished and successful invention. Or victory dancing trough the house (she was still ashamed he saw that). Ok, so maybe he didn't totally hate her. That didn't mean anything!

The way he'd looked when Yamcha and herself were having fun in the pool on that hot summer day…"

No! Stop that! He just hated Yamcha. It didn't have anything to do with her. Although he'd had an uncommon dislike for Yamcha right from the start. And Yamcha to him, of course. A thought suddenly occurred to her…wouldn't it be something if she started a relationship with Vegeta? She laughed out loud. Yamcha would be sooooo pissed!

Hold it! Was she actually considering this?

Well, she was pretty sure her Mum would approve…after all, hadn't she once said she wouldn't let a man like that walk away? By this time, her hot water had run out, but Bulma didn't notice.

She had to admit, Vegeta really did have perseverance. He had his plans all mapped out: As soon as he'd reach Super-Saiyan, he'd defeat the androids and try to beat Goku.

All of a sudden Bulma was convinced he was actually going to succeed. And now that she thought about it; she hoped he would succeed, well, except for the killing-goku-part. But then again, he never said he would kill Goku, he just wanted to prove he was stronger. That sounded a lot better already. Bulma smiled, stepped out of the shower and dried of. Pulling on her bathrobe, she walked towards her closet, still deep in thought.

But she couldn't go through with it. What if Vegeta really did like her…? She couldn't use somebody like that unless there were no strings attached. That only left her with one option.

To find out whether or not the prince wanted her.

So, she pulled on a nice red dress, with stockings of course, considering it was November, and a pair of boots with a short heel. Next she went downstairs to grab some breakfast. The morning rain was pouring, clouding up the windows, but she could tell by the little hum that came from outside that the GR was on. It almost seemed like it always was. Vegeta still trained every day for at least 14 hours. It was about time he took a break anyway.

So, she prepared breakfast for the both of them. Naturally, Bulma was a great cook. After all, cooking was like science, only you didn't have to be so precise. Things just didn't explode as fast as most of her inventions. The reason she hardly ever cooked is that she just didn't enjoy it much. But today she was giving it her best. There was fish and some fresh meat, and she decided that Vegeta needed lots of vegetables and fruits, so she made a big salad. She also made a plate of sandwiches and squeezed oranges until they each had a glass of fresh orange juice.

She set the table and went to get Vegeta.

Vegeta had already been up for three hours when he heard a curt knock on the door of the GR. He immediately froze. That knock could only mean one thing…Bulma. SHIT! Did he even look alright? Weren't his clothes too torn up? He looked down and hurried off towards a mirror. Oh, it was ok. He hurried to open the door. But…what if he smelled? Wait a minute! Since when did he care?!

He sniffed his armpit when he heard her call.

"Vegeta? Are you in there?"

"Of course I'm in here!" he yelled back at her, annoyed at his own silliness. "Who else would be in here?"

"Well, open the door already!" she demanded.

The doors opened with a hiss, showing Vegeta's angry face.

As soon as he saw her, for a reason he didn't quite understand himself, he held his breath. Vaguely he recalled thinking that she had looked her prettiest last night, but now he knew he had been wrong. Today she looked perfect. He slowly breathed out and shook his head to reorganise his thoughts.

"What do you want?" he said, though it didn't sound as demanding as he had wanted it to sound. 'You're becoming a weakling' he mentally scolded himself.

Coming face to face with him didn't leave Bulma unaffected either.

Sweat made his entire torso damp, letting it shine in the sun. She could see a big scar running across his chest. She lifted her hand a little to caress it, wondering what must have caused it, subconsciously wanting to take away that pain. Then the sound of his voice woke her up from her musings. She realised her hand was still hovering in mid-air and quickly used it to tuck a lost strand of hair behind her ear.

"I-I….uh… I made you breakfast" Bulma stuttered. Regaining her composure, she smiled and added. "I thought you might be hungry" She then proceeded to the kitchen, swinging her hips a little more than usual, leaving a baffled Vegeta to follow.

Vegeta shrugged his shoulders, grabbed a towel to wipe off his face and followed her to the kitchen. As soon as he saw the food he knew something was up. She rarely made him breakfast. Vegeta immediately was suspicious. This wouldn't have something to do with the events of last night, now would it?

All night he'd lain awake, wondering if his mind was cheating him. Had he really, for a moment. thought this woman worthy of him? Had he really almost tried to make her his?
He refused to believe such a thing, attributing the whole evening to his own fantasy. But apparently she'd noticed the tension as well.

However, now that he'd had an entire night to think about things and to cool off, he knew that he would never give in to such a weakness.

He would sit here, and eat with her, and pretend he hadn't noticed a thing. He would be cold civility.

He sat down at the table and started eating the food. Bulma found out that unlike Goku, Vegeta had excellent table manners. And for a moment she saw him for what he was, a prince.

She ate in silence for some time, until she finished her second sandwich. She put some salad on her plate and offered him the rest. He simply nodded in acceptance. She ate her salad and finished eating.

He wasn't comfortable with the way she was staring at him now. He raised his speed and stood up to leave.

Bulma sighed and watched him go. While cleaning up and doing the dishes she realised that she hadn't gotten any further in her quest. What was she to do next?

Ok, perhaps not a very long chapter, but it's something. I don't know if and when I'll update again, I've got other things on my mind. Anyway, I'm still hoping that one day I'll finish this story.