"Hanging By A Moment"
By: Bulmaveg_Otaku

The small craft shot through the darkness leaving a glittering trail of carbon and fuel waste that light the black around it. From afar the twinkling stars in the background gave the craft the deceiving appearance of a streaking comet, but on closer inspection the reflective metal of its frame and the words 'Capsule Corp' gave away it's man-made origin.

Inside the spherical ship a figure covered in what could only be called a dark demeanor sat in captain’s chair and stared out into the nothingness that reflected what he felt inside his hollow heart. Everything had changed for the austere alien, and he was having a hard time dealing with the outcomes and aftermaths of uncontrollable events.

His head was pounding with to many thoughts. His soul was tortured to its limit, but his stubborn pride refused to surrender, even in the presence of only himself. He lay his head back on the seat and shut his eyes. He had only to find a quest, a purpose to put things back into perspective, but it needed to be something completely different then any of his previous undertakings. He wouldn’t be a mad man’s lackey anymore; it was time he was in control. He was royalty after all.

A prince with out a kingdom was lost indeed, and he needed something to protect, to devote his loyalty to. For now, he would find distraction in searching out the one man who had dared surpass him and snatch his very destiny form his grasp. But that would take time. He had wasted enough of that tearing apart the universe, besides the fact that there was an annoying blinking red light next to the fuel gauge.

It only made sense that his enemy would have to return to his home, if he still lived, and he was certain he did. There was still several hours before he made planet fall, and when he felt exhaustion seep into his heart and bones he gave in a closed his eyes. He welcomed the thoughtless embrace of sleep.

~~~ Flying over the ground at such speeds took practice and control. The world below him whizzed by at such a dizzying pace that shapes became mere seconds of color and landscapes were blurred watercolors.

His whole body was shaking as he startled awake and realized that not just him, but the entire ship was quaking. He’d set the ship on autopilot and now the computers voice was speaking to him in its monotone contentment that threatened his sanity.

"Landing in 10…9…"

The screen before him was glowing red and burring as he realized he was entering Earth’s atmosphere. He took an assessment of the situation and realized that he was safe. His dream was forgotten for the moment, and he was gritting his teeth and riding out the last seconds of his drop from the heavens.

"…3…2…1…brace for impact."

With one last jolt the movement stopped and everything around him was still. The computer powered down, it’s program completed and the emergency lights came on.

Vegeta wasted no time in un-strapping himself from the seat and moving to the door. He pressed the open button and waited for the ramp to lower. With a hiss and a few puffs of smoke it moved slowly towards the ground. When it had finished he walked half way down the ramp and took in his surroundings.

It seemed the computer had brought him back to almost he exact spot he’d launched from. He had an audience of people that awaited his exit. He didn’t really want to have to deal with the natives. They were a mere distraction, only Kakarrot mattered.

"Vegeta what do you want?" The voice came from a cocky human he vaguely recognized from before his trip. If he recalled correctly he had been killed at his fist visit to the planet, and then wished back after their trip to Namek.

"I was hoping Kakarott might have finally returned." He stated honestly, yet agravatedly. He had no reason to lie to these humans. They might be able to help him, they might not.

Yamcha was a little surprised. "Hm? No way, you mean you never found him in space?" Vegeta frowned and jumped off the ramp of the Capsule Corps.’ spaceship with an impressive flip and landing. He would show anyone who crossed his path that he was stronger then they were.

"Don’t remind me. I’m angry enough to hurt someone and pounding you might just be the therapy I need." Vegeta widened his stance and glared at the suddenly fuming man who brought up his arms in response to Vegeta’s challenge and glared back. The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. But it didn’t last long.

"Uh, guys? P.U.! What’s that smell?"

Vegeta turned his head and caught sight of the Blue-haired beauty from Namek. Her hair was different, but otherwise it was still the same woman. She walked between him and the human with a saucy saunter and turned fearlessly to him to put a slender finger on his chest.

"Oh, it’s you. When was the last time you took a bath, bud? Please, follow me." She turned and started to walk away. He couldn’t help remember the dream he had had just before his arrival. It was all very disturbing. He hadn’t thought about her at all since he had stormed off in search of Kakarrot, and now he was having dreams about her.

Decision: follow or not? He could do as she instructed, get a bath and worry about finding Kakarrot later. Or he could refuse, make her angry, get yelled at, lose his temper and end up blasting her to the next demission. If he followed his natural instincts and went with the later choice he would probably end up having to kill lots of the woman’s angry friends. Then he would have a big hassle on his hands.

However, if he went with the first scenario he would get clean, probably fed, and the help he needed for the price of just a little patience. He didn’t really want to have to destroy the rare beauty before him anyway, despite her annoying attitude.

In the moment it took for him to decide she had started to walk away and then turned back to face him.

"Well, are you coming, or did you want me to roll out the red carpet?" She said sarcastically. He was furious for a second, until he looked into her cerulean eyes and his feelings changed to amusement by the challenge she held there. She seemed to be daring him to refuse.

Giving a careless grunt he followed her, much to the dismay of everyone witnessing his half-way submission. He was suddenly curious about what she had in mind. She was right. He did need a bath, and who was he to refuse such interesting hospitality?

With the warm water flowing over his face and back, rinsing away the frustration, pain, and loss he felt like a new man. The woman had returned the bathroom, now hazy with steam.

"Hey, you!" He almost disregarded her insulting address. "I left you some fresh clothes." She seemed set on taking full care of him. He didn’t mind, but he didn’t want it to look like he depended on her.

"You can leave now." He ordered in his harsh way. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts; to cleanse his soot-covered heart and plan his next course of action.

Something in his tone must have set her off, because she replied with words that dripped with facetiousness. "Why yes, master. Your wish is my command!"

Vegeta frowned, causing the water running down his face to have to change course to follow the curves and creases of his lips. She had made the offers of generosity, so why was she getting so upset at him? ‘The female species. What an enigma!’ He forced thoughts of the woman aside and turned to more precious matters.

He would just have to wait for Kakarrot to return. Where, he wasn’t sure, but he could get in some badly needed training. He’d spent some time raiding and destroying some of Frieza’s old bases and colonies, but that had hardly been an exertion. He was stronger now then he’d ever been, but he was sure that the low class baka he was chasing was stronger then him still. Kakarrot was a Super Saiyan, after all, and he was not. That thought infuriated him even more.

He had to reach it. He knew it was possible now, and was sure that it was not just a legend, as he’d worried before. He just needed something to help him get stronger faster.

He still needed to finalize the detailed, but he felt a lot better with a general direction. He was cleaned so he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. The only problem was there seemed to be no towel. He wondered if the blue-haired girl was still around. He thought he could hear voices outside now that the water was not rushing in his ears.

"Hello! Servant Woman! Bring me a drying cloth at once!" He was used to giving orders, and really didn’t care about being polite. He also didn’t have any patience. When there was no answer he tried again. "Woman, can you hear me?"

This time he got a reply, and a heated one at that.

"I can hear you, but my name is Bulma and I am not your servant, so say please," He heard her yell from the other side of the door. He only wanted a towel, not a lecture.

"Forget about the stupid drying cloth then!" He rebutted.

"Suit yourself. Drip dry you jerk!" Her voice sounded very upset. He didn’t really care. If she was going to be so difficult then she deserved to be upset.

He easily raised his ki and evaporated most of the water from his body. Stepping onto the soft rug his eyes fell on the sink. There sat some very bright colored fabric he could only assume were the clothes she’d been talking about. "What in the…"

A quick glance around the otherwise spotless room confirmed that. "Is this some kind of joke?!" He held them up in front of him and established with out a doubt that they were meant for him; they were very near his size. He could feel his temper rising. ‘If this were some kind of…’

"Is what a joke?" The clueless voice from the other side seemed to honestly not know what he was talking about.

"These garments that you left. Are they for a man or a woman? Their pink!" He looked down at the shirt in disgust.

"Come on! It’s the style here!" He was told happily, as if there was nothing wrong with it.

"Men in pink, how bizarre!" He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, but when he heard laughing erupt out side the door, he mentally chastised himself and vowed to be more careful with his speech. He would never let them make a fool of him. He’d rather die first.

Seeing no other option he grit his teeth and pulled the clothes on. Opening the door he found the woman standing in the door way across the hall that led to an open balcony were several of her friends were lounging. They were still laughing.

"This is ridiculous! I’m a warrior, not a…" he searched for the right degrading term, "a variety of flower!" There was a pause as everyone noticed his entrance.

Then the woman opened her big mouth and did what he termed mocking him. "Well, you smell good." The emphasis on smell made him fume as she subtly pointed out the way he looked. Everyone but Vegeta burst into gales of laughter. He was starting to lose it.

"Stop that!" He commanded like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. "Stop that or I’ll blast you all!" He meant it and they shut up immediately. Having power made getting your way much easier. He started to gloat in his complete control of them when the woman named Bulma spoke up again.

"Loosen up" She encouraged, unafraid of enraging him further. "Fighting’s no fun. Just relax. If you want to find Goku, just stay here. He’ll come! I’ve known Goku since he was five years old. Trust me, he’ll be back.

Her devoted faith shocked him, and a strange thought entered his head. Maybe Kakarrot was so strong because he had so many people who depended on him and believed in him. A few years ago he would have dismissed the idea as pure idiocy, but now, he wondered if it wasn’t something to be looked into.

It occurred to him that the woman Bulma had just invited him to stay, and he took it she meant with her, at this rather large complex. That confused him even more. After his demanding treatment of her and their arguments, she was still willing to afford her kindness and give him a place to live.

He considered it as he took a seat on the opposite side of the table from her curly aqua haired presence. From this seat he could see her clearly and pondered her motives. She seemed to sincerely want to help him. But why? He done nothing by try to destroy her planet and threaten to kill her.

In a moment he decided to take up her offer. She seemed to have plenty of space and lots of helpful toys to assist his training. It nicely completed his plan.

Around him, the others continued to joke and chat as if he were one of them. An onlooker might would have a hard time believing that one member of the group was an alien Prince who had killed countless numbers of beings.

The meal was going well, considering. Bulma was fixing ribs and shish kabobs. Vegeta found his appetite was growing in the presence of real food. After countless weeks of space rations, the juicy meat sizzling on the grill brought excessive saliva to his mouth and several growls from his stomach.

Several of the others were giddily eating the food set on the table, but Vegeta found himself sitting back and watching the woman at the grill. She was the epitome of confidence and popularity. She joked with all of her friends while she flipped the ribs and speared the kabobs. She was well-dressed and groomed, though her style was a bit outrageous, and there was a certain intelligent poise in her demeanor.

At times she appeared a little flaky or air headed, but that seemed merely a by product of her natural nature, being a woman and a weakling and all. Of course her confidence was borderline overbearance and she had a mouth, that was for sure. The price one paid for confidence and intelligence, he supposed.

She flirted constantly with the one named Yamcha. Vegeta didn’t like the cowardly weakling. He was too cocky and stupid. But it seemed as though the two of them had a relationship of some kind. He couldn’t blame Yamcha for liking the woman, but she was truly a baka is she really had feelings for the looser.

His thoughts were interrupted but the seeping of a great evil power into the edge of his senses. It appeared like a great blip on his mental radar, a KUFO, only Vegeta knew who it was. He could tell the others had sensed it as well. The bald headed one and the scarred men looked up with shock and fear in their eyes.

If Frieza was heading for Earth, then that could only mean one thing. Standing up sharply he knocked over the glass he had been sipping casually from.

"So, he failed after all! Frieza’s still alive and he’s coming!" He slammed his fist onto the table and watched the glass drop and shatter at his feet.

Everyone was startled by his outburst, but they all knew what he was talking about.

"Wait! How do you know? Maybe it could be somebody else." Yamcha stood and said to Vegeta. He seemed to be in denial, the coward. He wanted to just dismiss the idea and go on with his life. He wanted to run away, and Vegeta was disgusted with him.

"I know." He said smugly crossing his arms. "I make it my business to know, unlike you!" He spat.

Yamcha saw the obvious slight in his remarks and balled up his fist. "What’s that supposed to mean?" Both of them were leaning in to get in the others face. Things were turning ugly. The mutual dislike they had for each other was now exposed from behind the thin veil of civility and brought to the light, to be seen for what it really was.

"Hey, Vegeta." The woman interrupted almost causally from where she stood beside the table. "Would you like more barbeque sauce on your spare ribs?"

She said it as if there was no threat to the universe coming their way, and this was just another lunch with friends. Behind the mask of normality Vegeta could see into her attempts to keep peace between him and the other male.

She had seen their rivalry from the start, and had taken steps to prevent the two alpha males from getting at each other’s throats.

Now he had another decision. He could ignore her and pulverize the punk that dared challenge him, or he could go with her and pretend, for now, that there was nothing wrong.

Possible scenarios flipped through his head. If he killed the baka it would weaken their fighting force against Frieza. Not by much, granted, but he might make a good decoy or distraction. Yamcha’s death would also bring hard feelings from the people that, for no apparent reason, liked him. Especially the woman. Vegeta didn’t relish the idea of having her mad at him, he wanted to keep her on his side.

If he put their argument aside for the moment he could concentrate on the upcoming battle with Frieza and get some extra barbeque sauce as a bonus. It wouldn’t be long until the stupid loser proved how worthless and inconvenient he was anyway. They it would be his own down fall. If Vegeta wiped him out know he would be remembered a martyr and worshiped form the grave forever more. Vegeta didn’t like that idea. He wasn’t really worth the effort anyway.

In instant it took to process his thoughts he’d gone from an enraged to contented because of a woman. He had been making exasperated noises in response to her interruption and now he sputtered a reply.

"Sure, why not." He sat back in his chair and tried to calm himself farther.

Frieza and King Kold were dead. Kakarrot was back and stronger then ever, and the world was still under a menacing threat. Androids, the very word left a bad taste in his mouth, but at least he had a purpose. Now he had a path to walk on, and a destination to reach. They way to that destination was one he knew well: Train.

Vegeta welcomed the objective. Staying at the woman’s compound and training would burn anther three years in which he could increase his strength and enable him to beat Kakarrot, as soon as the androids were destroyed, of course. He decided long ago not to think about what he was going to do after that, he just concentrated on that one aim.

When they’d first arrived back after meeting with that strange boy he’d demanded that Dr. Briefs and his daughter come up with a contraption to help him train at greater levels of gravity, just as Kakarrot had done. If his rival had trained at a hundred times gravity he would train at a thousand. He had no intentions of letting anything distract him from his goal. He would be stronger and he would surpass Kakarrot and reach Super Saiyan. He wasn’t quite sure how to do that yet, but in time, with vigorous training he would figure it out.

That is why it was so frustrating to be cooped up in bed because of a few minor injuries. The only reason he had tolerated it was because he knew that the gravity chamber was not yet repaired. He climbed from his bed and pulled the bandages the woman had dressed him in off of his arms and head.

The woman chose that moment to enter the room carrying another dish of that infuriating substance called Jell-o.

"What do you think you are doing? Get back in bed, Vegeta. You’re still hurt. You need rest and plenty of nourishment." She put the bowl on the table and was trying to course him back to bed. He looked at the jell-o in disgust and then raised his eyes to hers defiantly.

"Are the repairs on the gravity chamber finished yet?" He asked her in a tone that demanded a truthful response.

"Yes, just barely." She lowered her head because she didn’t have any choice but to tell him, and she knew that it meant he would leave. Over the last few months they had come to an understanding with each other. She did her best to coddle and annoy him and he let her know when he’d had enough and she needed to stop. She took care of him, gave him a place to live and fixed his gravity machine when it broke and he let her try to boss him around.

So far he had successful managed to repress anything he felt towards her. He hid in his gravity room as much as possible and concentrated on becoming a Super Saiyan and that kept his mind where it was supposed to be. He’d been successful in keeping his hands off of her, both in the violent and the passionate connotations.

At times he found her amusing and enchanting, and at times he wanted to ring her neck and blow her up.

Just know he was almost glad that she’d answered him honestly. He couldn’t help feel a sense of pride because of her respect for him. She could have very well lied to him and then they would have gone into another bout of arguments and he would have ended up losing his temper and storming out any way. If she’d have lied he’d have know, and been very disappointed.

He nodded his head and walked past her to the doorway. It was amazing how something so small could increase his opinion of her. He couldn’t have liked a lying, manipulating woman, but now he could at least return the respect he received.

Flipping and twisting in the air, droplets of sweat seemed to cascade onto the floor as he evaded his imaginary opponent. He thrust his fist into a face he could almost see. He tried to kick, but was blocked, watching the moves that weren’t there trying to guess on nothing’s next move. It seemed victory was just out of reach because he couldn’t really defeat his enemy. There was no face, no form; everything was just out of reach.

He increased the pace and threw his attacks faster. He sent several blasts that only passed through where he was envisioning his foe to be and then hit the wall behind it. A small black mark marred the shinny mettle wall, a testament to the treatment it had under gone.

In the midst of his deep concentration he heard a familiar sound on the edge of his senses. He came back to the world, as if waking from a dream, and noticed the blinking of the meal light and the insistent beeping that had interrupted him.

He’d been so close! He’d felt his own desperation and want feeding his energy and pushing him towards the crest of his goal, only to be interrupted by the call to food! He was furious as he felt the power fade and disappear.

It was all that woman’s fault! She had insisted that stupid light be installed. He slammed his fist down on floor bellow him and sunk to his knees. He bowed his head in anger as he ground his teeth together in an attempt to gain control.

If he’d done it once he could do it again, it was just another step in reaching the end of the road. He took several deep breaths and tried to relax his muscles. He rested his head against the cooling mettle of the floor. His ki was still raised so he wouldn’t be flattened by the 400 times gravity that was still in place.

He felt the weight pressing down on him and reveled in the delight of a pressure he could put a name to. After a few minutes he rose and floated into the air. His body, it seemed, was exhausted. It was time he exercised his mind.

Folding his arms over his chest he crossed his legs and took a position more appropriate for the Namek. He focused all of his thoughts and began to reach for the goal he was seeking. Every time he neared a wall of consciousness he was met with one image. The image of a beautiful face surrounded by a halo of aqua locks. Brightly shining eyes, like pools of clear deep water, looked into his and seemed to leak into his soul.

Each time he encountered the vision he would pull his thoughts back and turn in another direction, only to be met again.

It had been several hours since the meal light interruption and now Vegeta burst from his mediation with a frustrated roar. He was getting nowhere, and it was all because of that woman.

He hit the button that turned the gravity off a little harder then necessary and then walked to the door with a dead set look on his face. He was very angry. How dare that female enter his thoughts!?

The door opened in front of him and let the fresh night air wash over him. It was late, but he didn’t really care.

He was half way to the house by the time the thoughts hit him that ‘maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault, and what if there was a reason she was in his head?’

He reached the house and roughly pulled the door open, and walked into the front room. What he met there surprised him.

He’d figured he’d have to pull the woman from her bed, but instead she was on the couch curled up in a ball, her chin on her knees and her arms around her legs.

The door slammed behind him and she opened her eyes suddenly. She saw him and rose quickly from the couch and almost ran to where he was standing.

"Oh, Vegeta, you’re alright!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and he froze with eyes wide. "I as so worried when you didn’t come in for dinner, and I couldn’t hear the usual blasts and things." She pulled away and looked into his face. "I thought you might have been knocked unconscious and bleeding to death or something. I didn’t check on you because I didn’t want to disturb you, incase you were all right. I know how much you enjoy your privacy, but I… I was so worried." She looked to the floor as if ashamed for showing her fears.

Vegeta was in total shock. He couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting up for him. Why did she care if he got hurt? He’d seen signs of this before when he’d been injured and awoken to find her sitting by his bedside.

He’d always dismissed that she felt it was her obligation as a hostess, but this was beyond duty. There was no reason to believe harm had come to him, but she was still worried. He was also stunned by the fact that she hadn’t knocked on the door to check. Usually, she had no regard for his ‘enjoyment of privacy’ as she had put it. Now…

A thought crept unannounced into his mind. ‘Maybe she really cares about me.’ The idea was impossible, he knew, but the evidence was in it’s favor. That led him to another question.

‘How do I feel about her?’ His brow creased as he thought about it. He knew that he respected her, and despite her many flaws he more then just tolerated her. She was his only ‘friend’. The idea hit him like a ton of bricks. All his anger was forgotten.

"I’m fine. I’m going to bed now." He said it coldly, with out emotion, but it was the exact opposite of what he was feeling. Inside him, his thoughts were at war and his emotions conflicted.

She looked a little disappointed, but nodded her head. "Ok. Good night." She turned and walked to her own room. He watched her go and then went to his own room.

Maybe there was something for him here besides training and besting Kakarrot. He’d never thought about that possibility before. As he got between his covers he firmed his resolve to not let the woman distract him from his true course. Training and strength were his only concerns. He fell asleep with his thoughts still troubled, and his dreams were restless.

It had been almost a year since Kakarrot’s return, and still he had not broken the barrier into Super Saiyan. Frustration and exhaustion filled every fiber of his being. He couldn’t understand why the transformation was still out of his grasp.

That low-class moron had to know the trick to it, but he’d die before he’d ask for Kakarrot’s help. He just had to get stronger and keep trying.

So far he had been successful in avoiding the woman almost completely. She still tired to butt in and control him every so often, but he always pushed her away and told her to leave him alone. After a while she’d taken the hint and stopped trying to nag him. Instead she just watched from a distance and would slip in silently to try and help him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

He’d always noticed. He’d ignored the times she’d left food for him, even when he didn’t come in till late at night and all the times he’d found his suit cleaned and repaired by his bed when he’d wake in the morning. He wouldn’t let himself ponder why she did such things. He’d just shrug his shoulders and admit that he didn’t understand women and that was it.

Part of his retreat might have been spawned by fear. He’d never had anyone care whether he lived or died and he’d never cared about anyone else. He was in unfamiliar ground, something he didn’t much like. He’d never admit to that though.

Things were beginning to feel a little bit hopeless, but the distance from his goal only seemed to fuel his desire to reach it. He had become a mindless drone, training and pushing him self to the limit over and over again. Time passed with out meaning, and soon even the exhaustion settling deep into his bones had no significance to him.

He stumbled out of the round ball he had made his torture chamber and walked mindlessly into the house. He never noticed the soft carpet beneath his bed or the incline of the stairs as he climbed to his room. He tossed his chest plate aside as he stepped past the threshold of the room he’d been given. He collapsed onto his bed without even crawling underneath the covers and drifted into the hazy world between consciousness and dreams.

Somehow, even in his fatigue, his mind raced with one thought. Super Saiyan. Over and over the words consumed him, wrapping him in a blanket of denied success and frustration. As he would fight he would see Kakarrot and the boy with the sword dancing on the edge of his sight. Their golden hair and teal eyes were taunting and laughing.

His confusion was that of a child who didn’t understand why his parents wouldn’t let him stay up past his bedtime. His body was giving out, but his mind would never allow defeat to conquer him. As he was fighting to sleep and resisting the blackness at the same time he heard the door to his room squeak open.

If he had any strength at all he would have turned to face the intruder, but as he lay on his stomach with his head facing away from the door, he found that he was beyond caring at this point. He lay still with his face pressed against the soft, clean quilt that had been replaced sometime during the day. His eyes were closed and he kept his breathing at a shallow in and out paced slowly as if he were asleep.

For a minute there was silence. He had started to wonder if he’d imagined all of when a soft voice spoke his name.

"Oh, Vegeta, why do you do this to yourself?" The floor creaked as the person stepped farther into the room. The voice was quiet and angelic, barely above a whisper.

"Don’t you know that there are people who care for you. If you die you’ll never become a Super Saiyan, and if you die…" She sighed lightly and stepped even closer to his bed. "Why do you push yourself so hard? You must want it pretty bad if your willing to die like this. What you don’t understand is…," She sat on his bed, above where his feet dangled over the edge. "…that there are people who would hate to see you dead. I would hate to see you kill yourself like this. It’s selfish of you to not think of the people you’d leave behind."

He was suddenly wide-awake, listening to her soft-spoken words. He made no move, except to open his eyes and stare blankly into the darkness. His mind had changed gears suddenly and he was now trying to comprehend what she was saying.

She was quiet for a few minutes, but he could feel her eyes on him, straining through the black to memorize the shape of his figure.

"I have dreams some time." Her voice almost startled him. He knew she must think he was asleep to share such private thoughts. "Sometimes they’re good dreams, where you’re a Super Saiyan and we live here together. There’s no androids and you have no need to train, so you just stay with me." She paused as the tone of her voice went dreamy and she seemed happy. She remembered where she was and who’s room she was sitting in and her voice went cold and dark and afraid again.

"Other times, I have nightmares about going outside and finding you dead, the gravity room blew up or the androids show up to kill you. It’s always different, but I wake up feeling the same. Lost and sad." He waited for her to continue, but was surprised when he felt her finger on his hair. He contained a startled jump and closed his eyes. She was leaning over him just a little and her fingers danced from his hair to his ear and down his jaw line, coming to rest on his bare back.

"Why do you push me away?" She whispered almost inaudibly right above his ear. "I hardly know you, but I…" she pulled her hand off of him and rose from the bed slowly. "Just don’t kill yourself." She said a little harshly.

As he listened to her leave and shut the door behind her. He wanted to run after her and shake her yelling, "You what?!", but instead he just lay there in the dark, with an overwhelming sense of solitary seemed to fill his throat and suffocate him. He didn’t even notice when unconsciousness took over and blocked out the sadness that filled his chest.

When he awoke the sun was streaming in through the window. He was in the same position he had fallen asleep in, and his muscles were complaining sorely. He rose slowly and sat on his bed trying to clear his foggy head. He vision was blurry until he blinked the sleep from them and focused on the door.

He remembered the woman coming into his room last night when she thought he was asleep, and a pounding sensation slid between his temples. He rose and walked down the hall and the stairs and into the kitchen.

The first thing he saw was a mop of blue curls drifting over the edge of a raised novel. One hand rested on a can of soda, while the other skillfully held up the book that covered her face from his view.

He tried his best not to stumble to the fridge as he went in search of nourishment. His stomach was clenched in hunger, and when he opened the door, the light in his eyes made him flinch. The pain in his skull was radiating like heat from an oven all over his body. He squinted his eyes and searched for edibles.

Behind him the book lowered lightly and then a pair of blue eyes drifted from its pages to his form against the light from the refrigerator.

"Nice of you to join us. Slept a little late, did we?" Her words were casual, but he couldn’t ignore the underlying concern that was trying desperately not to be there.

"What time is it?" He asked gruffly as he reached for a carton of milk. He stood straight and brought the lip to his mouth to drink.

"Almost noon." She said plainly.

He nearly choked on the milk as he lowered the carton and started to sputter. "Noon?!" He asked sharply. He’d never slept in this late before. ‘I must have been more exhausted then I thought.’ He set the carton on the counter and turned to face the girl who was setting her book face down on the table. ‘Why is she reading in the kitchen?’ He asked in the back of his mind. He didn’t really want an answer.

"Yep, noon. As in twelve o’clock PM. You missed the AM completely, bud. Maybe you should listen to me when I tell you to slow it down a little. This could be your body’s way of saying the same thing." She stood and walked towards him.

Their eyes locked for a second before she looked down to the floor. "Have a seat, I’ll fix you some breakfast, or lunch." She raised her hand to his arm and nudged him towards the table. He resisted for only a brief second before obeying.

He slumped down into his chair and watched her start to fix him a sandwich. She worked swiftly and silently and when it was completed she sat it in front of him and turned back to get him a pop.

He took a big bite and was chewing hungrily when she placed the can gently in front of his plate. As she moved around to take her seat at the table again he muttered a swift ‘Thank you’, and then continued to chew.

She froze halfway into her seat, not quite sure if she’d heard him say what she thought she’d heard him say. It had been very quiet and in between the food rolling around in his mouth, but what else could it have been.

She finished sitting very slowly watching him carefully. "Your welcome," she said just as slowly and picked up her book. She tried to focus on the pages in front of her, but Vegeta could see her struggle not to glance up at him frequently.

This morning he felt more refreshed and aware then he had in a long time, as if he had awoken form a deep, dream filled sleep. He ate his sandwich and watched her try to not look at him with amusement.

When he finished with his meal he opened the can and downed it in one long chug. Then he set it on the table between them with a clunk. His eyes stayed locked intently on her face behind her book.

She finally gave up the struggle, curiosity getting the better of her, and looked up to find his eyes locked on her face. She looked back at him for a second before lowering her book.

"What?" She asked quickly. He was unnerving her with his looks, he could tell. In that second he made a decision to quit ignoring the tension between them.

"Do you often come into my room when you think I’m asleep?" He asked and then watched her eyes widen. She stood quickly, knocking over the chair and lunged for the door. His speed was much greater, however, and he blocked the doorway with his wide shoulders and steady stance. She almost ran into him. But stopped just short a few inches away, fear and humiliation in her eyes.

"What are you running away for? I just asked you a simple question." He stared into her face and watched her raise her chin defiantly.

"How much did you hear?" She said stubbornly, not answering his question.

"Enough. How often?" He persisted.

"Well, I…" She stuttered a little and refused to meet his gaze. She searched his chest for the answers she couldn’t seem to find. "I always check on you when you come in, but last night was the first time I ever…" She couldn’t finish, a blush rising on her face.

"You what?" He asked intensely.

She looked into his face confused. "What?"

"Last night, before you left you said you hardly knew me, but you… and then you didn’t finish. What were you going to say?" His tone was curious, but slightly taunting. He watched the color on her cheeks deepen as she searched behind him, wanting to be far from there.

"I… I don’t know." She said pleading with him to let her go. He was blocking the only exit from the small kitchen. She was in his hands now, and she knew it. Humiliation was evident on her face. She begged with her eyes for him to move.

"I think you do." He crossed his arms stubbornly and asked again, more insistent this time. "You what…?"

She fought to gain control. "I though you were asleep. I never meant for you to hear me…" She said desperately, as if that would satisfy him. It did not.

"But I did. And I found it very interesting." He had enjoyed tormenting her, but now his heart fell a little as she watched pain and embarrassment beyond imagination flood over her delicate features.

"I… I just thought that… for some reason… I feel…" She couldn’t finish a sentence. Nothing seemed to convey what she wanted to tell him, but didn’t want him to know. Her eyes were locked on the tile floor, as if hoping for them to open up and swallow her, releasing her from this humiliation.

Seeing her distress and feeling a little guilty for being it’s cause he uncrossed his arms and raised a hand to her chin. He tilted her face towards him, but her eyes refused to meet his.

"Shhhh," He whispered in a gently tone that caught her attention and brought her fearful, azure eyes to his own fiery, dark ones. She searched his face in confusion as he lowered his mouth towards hers. Gently he brushed her lips with his own, barely, as if in a butterfly’s kiss.

When he pulled back her eyes were just as wide, but most the fear was gone, replaced with pure surprise.

As if she couldn’t stop her self because of her amazement she began to speak in a hushed whisper. "I hardly know you, but I seem to have fallen in love with you." She waited, poised, for his response.

A smile twitched at the edge of his lips, and then he claimer her for another kiss. That was just what he wanted to hear.

She smiled beneath his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted her into his arms and carried her back the way he had come that morning.

He forgot all about Kakarrot as he undressed her slowly. Kissing her made him loose any desire to train. Becoming a Super Saiyan became the farthest thing from his mind as he caressed her perfect body. In the peaceful surroundings of his bedroom he knew only pleasure and happiness as he entered her and joined in the most intimate embrace of all time. For just a moment, as he exploded his seed inside her and ultimate joy washed over him did he realize that he had found that one thing he had been searching for: a cause, a purpose, something to bring meaning to his life and give him a reason to exist. The one thing truly worth fighting for and protecting: The love of a woman.

In the morning he would forget the truth and love he felt now, and all the coldness and indifference would return, but for now, in this one instant, he was happy and he knew. For one moment, gazing into her endlessly deep eyes, through that look of passion and love, he found himself.

* * * * *