Their Story

In the Beginning

  "I will always cherish you."

  The words echoed through her mind, even after all this time.  Words that might have been spoken out of love at the time, but soon began to ring false after each betrayal.  Yet the blue-haired woman who kept lingering on them, and the man who had said them, kept both close to her.

    Bulma Briefs knew she had to move past Yamcha, but she was finding it extremely difficult.  She had broken up with him, and tried to act cool and distant, but it was hard.  She still hurt.  The tears began to well up again, and she hung her head in shame.

    "Woman! Where is your father?" a gruff voice demanded.

    Her head snapped up, and she whirled to face the owner of the voice.  In the doorway stood Vegeta, arms crossed over his chest, a look of disdain on his face.  Bulma frowned, her displeasure clear on her own features.

      "He's in his lab, you jerk," she snapped, throwing back her head, blue hair flipping about, silently dismissing the dark haired warrior.  She wanted to see if he was going to engage in a verbal spat.  She felt like she needed a release of some sort.  Vegeta stood in the doorway for a moment, dark eyes regarding her shrewdly.  Deciding it wasn't worth his time, he stalked off to find Dr. Briefs.  There were more important matters to focus on than buxom blue haired women.

      Bulma shook her head in disgust.  There were some days she regretted her decision to have him stay at her family's compound.  The constant demand for new equipment took their toll on her father.  She helped from time to time, but for the most part she stayed out of the laboratory, trying her best to keep an eye on the proud Saiyan prince.  If she were honest with herself (and she was, mostly), it was a job that was at least pleasing to the eyes.  She shook her head once more.

     True, her heart still lingered on Yamcha, but she could not deny the magnetism, raw and animalistic, that she felt for Vegeta.  Maybe it was just about his body (which she had gotten a brief glimpse of the day before) or perhaps it was his cocky, self-assured arrogance that aroused her.  Maybe it was the whole package.  Whatever it was, she was attracted to him, despite the Yamcha factor.

    "Bulma, honey, Yamcha's here!" her mother called out. "Come say hello!"

    Eyes rolling, Bulma rose to her feet.  He had been a little clingy once she had broken up with him, and it had only gotten worse now that she had told him about the seemingly innocent dream she'd had about Vegeta.  Other than making Yamcha jealous, she had no other reason to mention it.  Unfortunately, it had backfired into a mess, and now things were even more confusing for her than before.  

    Sighing, she joined her mother and former lover in the living room.  Mrs. Briefs was happily pouring out tea for Yamcha, while the latter tried to pretend he wasn't staring down her top as she leaned over.  For reasons Bulma was sure she didn't want to know, he was wearing a gray suit.  Glancing down at herself, she was suddenly very glad she had chosen to dress down today, opting for slacks and a t-shirt.

    "Ahem."

    Yamcha's eyes snapped forward, shame and guilt written on his face.  At least he had the good grace to be embarrassed by his actions.  Bulma rolled her eyes at him.

   "Well, it's about time you joined us," her mother admonished cheerfully.  "Poor Yamcha was beginning to think you'd never come say hello, weren't you dear?"

"Mom, could you give us a moment, please?" She didn't want an audience for what she was about to do.  Her mother hurried away, leaving the two former lovers to face one another.

    "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone cold and her body language sending a clear message she wasn't pleased.

   "I wanted to talk about us," he said, rising from his seat.  Bulma stared at him for a moment before she found her voice.