Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, Akira Toriyama and a bunch of companies do, don't sue me.

Yamcha's ears started ringing. A dark red mark started to show on his face, forming into the shape of five slender fingers and the palm of someone's hand. Wincing and rubbing his face, he looked plaintively at Bulma. "What was that for?"

"Who do you think you are?!" Her voice was full of just barely suppressed rage. "You have stood me up for the last time, Yamcha. NOW GET OUT THAT DOOR! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU ANYWHERE NEAR THIS HOUSE ANYMORE!" The tone of her voice changed. "This time, I'm not going to let you back in."

Still rubbing the painfully red mark on his face, Yamcha backed away towards the door nervously. His head felt like some cartoon character had put a pot over it and then started to hit the pot with a wooden spoon. Timidly, he opened up the door and walked out. Bulma smiled in satisfaction as she saw him get in his car and drive off. Suddenly, tears started to leak out of her eyes. He was a jerk, and he cheated. I'm glad I've dumped him for good, but why am I so sad?

A quiet chuckle and a little snort came from the doorway. She looked over her shoulder. Leaning against the doorframe was Vegeta, fresh out of the gravity room, still just in his shorts with a towel around his neck. "Well, woman, for a weakling like you, you certainly are loud. Oh, stop making that disgusting noise."

Too upset and tired from yelling to care, Bulma hurled her arms around Vegeta's neck and started sobbing into the towel. He bit back a startled yelp and tried to keep as much of himself away from her. "Oh, shit. Let go of me, woman. And I thought I told you to quit whimpering like that." She ignored him, as if he didn't exist except as someone to cry on. "Get off me!" It was almost a yell. Letting go, she backed off and sat down on the couch.

"You don't get it, do you. I thought I loved him. As if a killer alien like you would even care."

"So?"

Still crying, she got up and went upstairs. He blinked and went back to his training. "I will never be able to understand humans. Especally not women."

*****

The next evening, he heard sniffling from the living room as he rummaged through the fridge. Irritated, he stuck his head through the door. "Will you shut up for one moment and stop that pathetic crying?"

She looked over at him. Her voice was acid. "Well, if it isn't the gallant prince, come to comfort me in my misery. Why can't you just stay in your little gravity room and leave me alone?" Popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth from the bowl on the table, she sniffed again, then waved her hand in front of her nose. "Phew! When was the last time you took a shower? A month ago? You smell like a race horse."

"I thought I told you to shut up."

"Aren't you just so sweet." Her voice was sarcastic, but she still looked upset. "Go away. Leave me in peace."

"Fine by me."

That night, she sat in a chair on her balcony, arms around her knees and looking at the stars. For some reason, she was still feeling bad about dumping the jerk. It was quite late, but she didn't feel tired. A creak came from below, and she looked down to see the door to Vegeta's gravity room opening. He was a jerk too, but at least she didn't talk to him too much. Then she blushed, since she was only wearing her nightgown, which wasn't all that long. She hoped he didn't look up here. Hurrying in to get a cup of water, she eeped when, right after she had come back out and settled back down in the chair, Vegeta popped up into the air in front of her. "Vegeta! What are you doing here?"

"You aren't asleep? I thought you humans needed a lot of sleep."

"Why would you care?" She peered at him. He looked embarrassed all of a sudden. "Shouldn't you be training?"

"Shouldn't you be weeping over that idiot boyfriend of yours?" The retort hit a small nerve somewhere along the middle of her brain and she started crying again. Sighing, Vegeta looked at the crying blue-haired woman in the chair and landed next to her. She tried to smack him away, but he neatly caught her hand. "Why should you care so much about a man who always came back to you with his tail between his legs like a whipped dog?"

A weak, shaky smile spread over Bulma's face. Blowing her nose explosively, then chucking the tissue in a wastebasket nearby, she stopped crying. "You're right. Thank you, Vegeta."

He nodded, for once not looking as if he expected her to be bowing and scraping. Her eyes widened. There was a real smile on his face.

About three months later…

Bulma looked down at her slowly growing stomach. "What a perfect thing for Springer. 'Killer Alien Men and the Women Who Love Them.' Kami." Then her mood abruptly changed. "I wonder if it'll be a boy or a girl?"