Bulma let her head hit the table with a light ‘thump’. She’d given up on trying to be cool and calm around Vegeta. This ‘thing’ she had for him was becoming too hard to handle. Just a moment before, he hadd been in the kitchen, shirtless. He didn’t make any effort at all to piss her off like usual, much less even look at her. It had been this way for weeks. The one time they did get into one of their ‘usual’ fights, Vegeta had merely turned and left the room as she yelled.

What bothered Bulma the most was the fact that she missed those actions from him. She missed the Vegeta who would fight back, stare her down. It was invigorating, and she only realized it when it wasn’t happening.

"Figures…" she whispered to herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, hating herself for becoming so attached to him. Bulma had a knack for falling for the impossible. At first it was Yamcha, who was too scared of women to even look at her. That had been a challenge. Now she could no longer deny the fact that she had feelings for a once-evil murderer, who cared nothing for anyone but himself.

Her days had been fille with work. Anything to keep her mind focused on something technical. Something reliable that could be solved with math or science. Anything other than this. She knew nothing about how to solve this problem. Another ‘thump’ sounded as she lifted, and dropped her forehead to the table again. How was she supposed to deal with this?

"Bulma?" a male voice sounded from the side door to the kitchen.

She looked up from her brooding and found herself genuinely surprized. "Yamcha, What-"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sound had been up too high for Vegeta to notice the arrival of Bulma’s ex. Had he noticed, there might have been more reason for him to stop and brood over recent happenings.

But as per usual, Vegeta pushed any thought that was unwanted from his head, and trained so hard that he only thought of his own pain.

He felt hate burn inside of him any time he even had a sideways thought. Of course it was inevitable. She showed up around the house, and since ‘that night’ he still had flashing reminders that Bulma was not easily forgotten.

Vegeta could not take the fact that this woman bothered him so much. He got to the point over blaming her, thinking it was some strange experiment she’d been testing on him. Eventually he all but left the Capsule Corp. grounds altogether. Sooner or later he would have to face the problem that was brewing beneath his toughened exterior.

Little did he know the time to face it would be so soon…

- - - - - - - - - - -

Bulma leaned back against the counter, with one arm across her middle. She pinched the bridge of her nose as he talked, not even making a full effort to even listen. This had definitely been an unexpected turn of events, but not necessarily one that hadn't happened before.

"I made a mistake. I made lots of them, ok? But I just can’t doo...anything... without you." Yamcha said, his voice losing it's tone. He sat in one of the chairs by the table, looking dejected as he spoke. "Yamcha," Bulma replied as if she were tired, and she was. "I can’t. Not anymore," she admitted, not wanting to explain.

She couldn’t tell him again that he was just feeling desperate and lonely. She knew he only came around when no one else would listen. Bulma wouldn’t let herself be used, no matter how lonely she was herself. Not anymore...

He stood suddenly and she looked up, letting her hand down to her side as he approached her.

"Bulma please! I can’t stop thinking about you!" his eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears. He looked pathetic.

That hought made her own eyes flash as she lifted her arms, and he took an instant step back. "Yamcha, how many times to I have to say it? No! I refuse to be your fall-back until someone else comes along in a better pair of heels!" she said, her voice raising with ever word.

He looked as though he wanted to respond, but no words of denial came from his mouth.

"Do what you have to to get over it! Make me out to be the bad guy, but I will not be your net anymore!" Bulma yelled.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

He rubbed the towel over the reddened areas of his arms, sopping up any blood that might drip when he entered the house. Vegeta went through the same mindless ritual every night. Tonight, he had planned doing the exact same thing; train, eat, bathe, and sleep.

As he turned the corner and saw through the window in the kitchen, however, Vegeta halted in his tracks. Within a split second he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, and his lip lift slightly. He was to the point of growling when he took a breath to stop his reaction.

Through the window, he could clearly see Bulma standing with her arms raised, eyes flashing at whom he knew to be the human weakling, Yamcha. That idiot hadn’t been around in months, and he had not been missed at all in that time.

Vegeta didn’t know whether to kill him for entering his territory, or for riling Bulma to the point that her eyes flashed. He scoffed, as he knew he had no reason to feel either way. He would just have to kill him for being the weakling he was.

A smirk crossed his features as he picked up and walked slowly through the kitchen entrance, lowering his ki, and leaning in the doorframe.

"...this many years and you’re just going to leave me?!" he was saying in the most annoying voice Vegeta had ever heard. Always whining. Only females whined.

Vegeta decided to add one more thing to his list for that evening. Something amusing.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Yamcha I did this four months ago! Four! And not two days later you’d settled down with someone else! You can not-" she made the mistake of glancing at the movement in the doorway. Her blue gaze flickered once as she saw Vegeta enter. Her voice immediately lowered.

"You can not expect me to be waiting for your return. This past hour you didn’t even think that maybe I’ve settled down," her eyes went from Yamcha to Vegeta once more, and she stared hard at the ground, glad Yamcha was too upset to follow her eyes. The look Vegeta had been giving her was a smug one, but it still affected her in a way that she couldn’t help.

"Oh, so now you’ve got a boyfriend?" he said suddenly. Predictably.

Bulma rolled her eyes and glared at him "No, Yamcha, I don’t. But no Yamcha, I do not want one! Especially not you!"

The second she had said that, she was sorry. But her pride, damn it all, held any emotion inside. Yamcha's face broke down, and his spirit seemed to leave him as he let out a sigh. Of course, the was when his smug-ness decided to speak.

"Are you going to be finished anytime soon, or am I going to have to kill you both?" The unmistakable voice sounded from the kitchen doorway.

"Brilliant," Bulma whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose again, her hair falling to the sides of her face.

Yamcha jumped in place, and turned to face the shorter Saiyan. "Yes Vegeta. Kill me. Kill me right here! " he said harshly, holding his arms out to the sides as if presenting himself. "Go on! You’re the all-mighty Prince! Do whatever you want to me, Saiyan."

Bulma looked up to see Vegeta looking to her, as if asking what she had done to him. He then gave Yamcha a long scathing look, and sneered.

"Pathetic," Vegeta said, annunciating the one word with venom in his voice. He brushed past the taller warrior and made his way to the refrigerator, going about business as usual.

Bulma swallowed audibly as Yamcha walked out (surprisingly without another word), casting a defeated glance her way before disappearing through the doorway. She immediately turned her back to Vegeta, fighting the sob that choked her, and swelled her throat up. Her hands shook and she squeezed her eyes as tight as she could.

She took a chaste sip from the glass that sat nearby on the counter, keeping her back rigid as if trying not to blow up.

"Vegeta," she managed in a shaky voice. "You are so....damned... cruel." she said slowly, obviously upset. She heard him make a short hissing sound and pull the chair out to sit in.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"I truly hope you didn’t just figure that out," he replied with an amused look on his face. "I thought you were quick with things like that, being a scientist." he finished before taking a bite of his food.

He looked up to see her shaking, wondering why humans got so emotional over simple, petty details. On his planet the female would merely kill a male for keeping after her when unwanted. No qualms about it. To him, both if those idiots were weak.

Vegeta sneered and swallowed, feeling strangely open this evening. "Why do you care?" he asked simply.

He saw her turn, her face was flushed and streaked with wetness, he just did not understand it.

"Are you really that cold-hearted? You can not tell me you have no feelings at all. You’ve never cried? Not even a little?" she asked, folding her arms and shaking more.

He merely stared at her, knowing deep down that he had betrayed his own pride time and time again, but those were his own secrets. Those were his own frustrations at not being good enough. Never had he become so worked up over something so petty.

"Why should I?" he asked, and watched her face contort.

She shook her head, raised her arms and left the room. Vegeta heard her getting more upset as she left, and merely shrugged, noting the conversation in his head as something to combat the recent obsessive flashes of her nude form.

He let out a short growl and took another bite, going over training in his head for the next day.

- - - - - - - - -

She hadn’t meant to be so cruel…

Bulma had cried until it hurt, and now she lay in the fetal position, catching her breath and feeling the stickiness of her face as the tears dried. She sighed deeply, wondering at the fact that she had been just a cruel as Vegeta.

Then again, how could she make it clear to him? There was no other way. When she hadd told him before, she had been much calmer, kinder. But somehow she knew he would be back. As soon as he ran out of back up, he would return. She hadd always been there; Bulma had always meant to be there.

But there was no way now. It would be hard to be friends at this point, she knew.

She rolled over onto her back; letting the cool air hit her face. Her mind kept going back to Vegeta. Damn him. There was no way that a living being, alien or not, had no feelings at all. He had to feel something.

Bulma narrowed her eyes as she thought more on the dubject, glad to have something else to focus on. She had seen passion that night. The way his eyes lit as he ate his kill. Perhaps it had something to do with instincts. After all, he was a different species altogether...

A sigh escaped her lips slowly as she crossed her arms behind her head. Bulma would figure him out, if for no other reason then to prove herself right.