Falling In Love A Second Time

Chapter 7 - So Close, And Yet, So Far

Bulma awoke the next morning utterly exhausted. Dreams of Vegeta murdering her in various disturbing ways had kept the bliss of sleep out of her reach for much of the night. 'Why I ever let that man stay…' she wondered, as she pulled herself out of bed and grabbed a robe to head downstairs for some breakfast. She treaded carefully to her destination, peeking into the kitchen before entering to make certain no unwanted company was present. 'Good, maybe he's still asleep,' she thought rather relieved, as she hurried over to the cabinets to pull out the items she needed to make some toast, one of the few meals she could successfully prepare.

Grabbing two pieces of bread and sticking them into the toaster, Bulma turned to load the coffee machine. After the night she had, coffee sounded like a wonderful remedy. "Now, where are those filters?" she asked herself, trying a few different places before finally finding them. 'Uh… top shelf! How am I supposed to reach that?' Bulma growled angrily before kneeling on the counter to help extend her reach. 'Why the hell in a house full of short people would something so essential as coffee be so damn hard to get?' Bulma wondered with some frustration before finally grabbing onto that which she sought after. "Got it," she smiled rather pleased with herself before moving to climb off the counter. The tie on her robe, however, had come undone at some point when she had crawled upon the counter, and when she moved to slide off it, she found herself instead falling, as the silk of her robe interrupted her graceful descent. It was in a fleeting moment that she expected to crack her scull open when she hit the hard tiled floor, but another disaster seemed to be averted when two strong arms fastened around her body, ensuring her safety.

It took Bulma a few seconds to reorient herself before she realized whose arms she had found herself in once again. "Kami, have I always fallen this often that you have to follow me around like a damn safety net?" She asked more so as an irritated statement than a genuine question.

"First of all," Vegeta responded as he lowered his feisty mate back to her feet. "It's Dende now, Kami is no longer the guardian," Vegeta corrected her before leaning down to pick up the can of coffee she had dropped during her fall; "and you are the one who keeps falling, if you don't like being saved from you own incompetence, then next time, which at the rate you are falling it will be in a matter of minutes, I'll save my aid for someone more grateful." Vegeta hissed as he none too gently placed the coffee onto the counter Bulma had just fallen from and turned to leave.

"Wait," Bulma called after him before he could get very far. She begrudgingly was beginning to feel guilty for her snippy tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so cold, I just had a long night, and then the damn coffee was so hard to reach, and I now burned my toast-my toast!" she cut herself off to thoughtlessly pull the now blacked bread out of the toaster before it could set fire, successfully burning her fingers in the process. "Damn it!" She hissed, dropping the bread ungraciously onto the counter as she brought her burned fingers to her mouth in an instinctive attempt to lessen the pain of her wound.

Vegeta stood utterly baffled by how self-destructive his mate was being. He took a mental note to watch her every move, from now on, more closely, before walking over to her and removing her fingers from her mouth. Guiding her over to the sink, he turned the cold water on and placed her fingers under the icy liquid. After directing her to keep her hand still, Vegeta went back over to the refrigerator and pulled out some ice cubes. When he returned to Bulma, clasping her hand within his, he slowly began to allow the cube to melt upon her red fingertips. "I would tell you to be more careful, but I am beginning to think that wouldn't do much good."

Bulma bit her bottom lip as she watched him so tenderly soothe her pain. How such a deadly man could be so gentle seemed utterly unfathomable, but she couldn't change what she was feeling. Something about the way he so soothingly administered to her wound made her feel safe, the feel of his surprisingly soft hand embracing hers, and the hypnotizing slow strokes in which he moved the ice, it was almost… seductive. "You… You don't have to do this; I can tend to my own wound." She took long breaths as she spoke. Why was her entire body beginning to feel as hot as her fingers?

"I'm sure you can, but it's easier this way." He almost purred his answer as he took a step closer to her, eliminating much of the space between them. He could feel the heat running through her veins, and it wasn't just from the burn. 'So, the woman's mind might not remember me, but her body seems to,' he thought rather satisfied, as he continued his ministrations.

Bulma watched almost helplessly as Vegeta's body became so close to hers that she could smell his masculine scent. She closed and opened her eyes slowly. 'So familiar,' she thought as the scent tickled her senses, 'Bulma, get a grip! What are you thinking? This is Vegeta! The psychopath you imagined torturing and killing you in all sorts of violent ways last night! So why the hell am I suddenly imagining him doing another kind of torture to me?'

"Something wrong?" she heard a deep voice suddenly ask her. Bulma felt her heart drop as she realized the ice had completely melted over her hand, and yet they were still so close to each other, Vegeta's hand still holding hers, lifting it, placing it against his lips… a kiss. She watched in awe as his amazingly soft lips caressed her burned fingers. "Better?" he asked, as his eyes finally found his mate's. He knew all too well the look she was adorned with, lust.

"Ah… Yes," Bulma shook her head as she suddenly regained the will power to pull her hand away. "I feel much better. Thank you." She felt embarrassed. 'Did he realize how blatantly I was staring? Oh Dende, what is happening to me? What am I thinking?'

"Are you certain?" he asked, using her dazedness to further his cause. "You look a little flushed," he held a smirk as he ran his fingers from the roots of her loose hairs to her cheek, resting his palm there as he trapped her eyes within his. Memories or no, her body couldn't deny the chemistry between them.

"I…I'm fine," she confessed, her heart pounding. It was like he was casting some powerful spell upon her that she couldn't seem to break free from. 'His lips,' she focused on them as she felt his face gradually moving towards hers. Bulma had an internal struggle with her body. Why wouldn't she move to avoid the impending act of affection? She could see it; feel him moving in to place his soft, tender, gentle lips atop her hot wanting-it didn't matter how much she struggled, her body wanted to feel his lips. Leaning towards him, their faces were so close they could feel one another's breath before Bulma was saved by her son.

"Morning Mom-Da-er-Vegeta?" Trunks looked confused then embarrassed as he realized what he had walked in upon. "Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt--"

"Interrupt?!" Bulma disagreed as she sprang away from Vegeta as though he carried the plague. "You're not interrupting; I was just about to make breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"Um…" Trunks quickly glanced over at his father for a response. He only saw fury oozing from the man. "No, I think I'd rather go get a shower and change first. I'll come back later," he said before turning to bolt out of the kitchen. He knew the look his father bore all too well. It silently told him that for every minute longer he stayed, the life would be pounded out of him ten fold during their next training session. Even breakfast wasn't worth that.

Bulma frowned the moment Trunks left. How the hell could she face Vegeta? What had almost happened between them? She didn't want to stay and find out. Glancing quickly towards the exit, Bulma moved for a fast escape. "You know, I'm not that hungry either, I think I'll--"

"Bulma," Vegeta grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could make a run for it, "We need to--"

Ring

'Oh, Dende bless whoever that is!' Bulma prayed as she used the sound of the phone to pull away from Vegeta's grasp and question. Bolting towards the phone she quickly picked it up, more than ready to delve into a long distracting conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" she greeted sweetly, keeping her back to Vegeta, hoping he would take the cue to leave. He instead took a seat at the kitchen table, having no interest in letting what had almost happened between them be ignored.

"Hey Bulma!" the voice at the other end of the line greeted.

"Yamcha!" Bulma felt a genuine sense of relief. "It's so good to hear from you."

Vegeta's teeth clenched. 'What the hell is that fool doing calling my mate!?!"

"Yeah," Yamcha agreed, "I hope you don't mind. I just wanted to call and check in to make sure everything was all right with you. Chi-Chi told me that you found out about Vegeta."

"Yeah, I did." Bulma tried to hide her uneasiness with the subject, especially since it happened to be sitting, listening to her every word, right behind her. "You just can't imagine how bizarre this all is for me. I mean it's like living with two total strangers."

Vegeta frowned as he heard her assessment of the situation. Honestly, calling the man who knows her deepest and most intimate thoughts a stranger is a cruelty unlike any other she had even spoken to him. And considering the cruelties she has used, that was saying quite a bit.

"Well, you certainly don't have to worry about Trunks, he is a great kid." Yamcha tried to sound reassuring.

"And the other half to the equation?" Bulma tried to be non-specific in her question since the man of whom she was asking was still eerily piercing her with his gaze. 'Why won't this guy just leave me alone? Can't he see how damn awkward I feel right now?' she wondered, as she caught his impenetrable stare out of the corner of her eye.

Bulma's focus on the other party in the room caused her to miss all but the end of Yamcha's response. "…but he can definitely be a handful." As he finished, Bulma could have sworn she heard a slight growl of anger or jealousy?-through the phone, as Yamcha threw in his two cents about the man.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Bulma was once again general; she could only respond to the latter part that she had heard. 'Why is this guy distracting me so much?'

"You know, Bulma," Yamcha continued with a suggestion of his own. "If you are feeling a little out of your element, and want to do something familiar, I wouldn't mind taking you out for dinner. Hey, we could even reminisce about old times-er-I guess they wouldn't seem that old to you," Yamcha successfully managed to make himself laugh. "What do you say?"

Bulma then thought a moment, 'getting out of this house sounds exactly like what I need. And who knows, maybe Yamcha will have the answers I have been looking for.' Concluding that this would be a nice change from the bizarre, Bulma decided to accept his offer. "It's a date then."

The chair that Vegeta sat in which had been tilting away from the table as he was listening to Bulma speak, managed to fall right over, dropping him flat onto his back as he heard what she had accepted. 'A DATE!' It took all his willpower to stop himself from storming over to the phone and voicing a few threats to Yamcha about what happens to any man that attempts to court his mate. 'What the fuck does that bastard think he's doing?!'

"Great, I'll see you then Yamcha, bye." The sound of Bulma hanging up the phone brought Vegeta out of his mental tirade. Putting the chair he had fallen out of back in place, he stormed over to Bulma; quickly reminding himself to hold his temper, the last thing he needed was her to fear him once again.

"What the hell was that!?" Vegeta demanded, giving Bulma a start as she turned around, surprised by how angered Vegeta seemed.

"Not that's it's any of your business, but Yamcha just offered to take me out for dinner," Bulma admitted honestly, having no idea that was in fact telling her husband to his face that she was about to cheat on him.

"You most certainly will not be going on any date with that fool!" Vegeta ordered thoughtlessly. Though he knew under normal circumstances such a get-together would not have been more than an afterthought, since Bulma held a loyalty to him that he frequently wondered what he had done to deserve, but with her memory loss, Vegeta wouldn't for a second trust Yamcha to keep his hands to himself.

"Excuse me?" Bulma blinked, "Are you actually trying to tell me what I will and will not do?" She blinked in utter bewilderment, 'he doesn't think that what almost happened between us gives him some right to me, does he?' Bulma wondered angrily, she would have to disprove such thoughts quickly. "Look buddy, I don't know how things were between us before my accident, but I am certain I wouldn't allow you to restrict what I can and can not do. I am a single woman, and if I so choose to enjoy the company of a man tonight, then that is my choice and my choice alone."

"And you wish you spend your night with your weakling ex?" Vegeta decided to try another approach as he halted her exit from the kitchen once again. He sure as hell didn't like the idea of his mate thinking she was still available for other men to court. "You and he are on no better terms than the two of us, so why the need to go out with him, hm? Why the need to get out of the house? You haven't been home for more than a night!"

"And what does that matter to you?!" She was becoming more frustrated by the minute. "Dende, I know you can't understand this, but I am not comfortable here! I don't know you; I don't know my own son, but Yamcha I do know. I feel comfortable with him, and if you find it offensive or inappropriate that I wish to spend some time with someone whom I actually remember, whom I'm not afraid of, then that is your problem to deal with, not mine!"

Vegeta, stunned by her harsh and detached assessment of the situation, released her arm, letting her leave the kitchen without further comment. 'I don't know you…' Those words stung. The only person who ever took the time to get to know him, to care to know him, was the woman who just left, utterly emotionless towards him. 'I was so close, how did I just loose her?' he asked himself, before turning and leaving the kitchen. Too many emotions were filling his veins, anger that his mate was about to go on a date with her weakling ex, and he couldn't do damn thing about it! It hurt him to know that she didn't care how much such acts tore him up inside; and devastated that he was helpless to change the path he was heading down.

Entering the gravity room, Vegeta felt himself release a cold chuckle as he realized how this room had now become his sanctuary from pain. Bulma used to be that haven, but now all he has is his training to beat the emotions he could no longer deal with out of him. A burden that only made him realize so much more clearly, how destructive the loss of his mate is to his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was six thirty that evening when Bulma came downstairs dressed in a tight fitting black calf length skirt, and a curve flattering powdered blue blouse that complimented her hair and eyes perfectly. Trunks was sitting upon the couch in the living room, he had been avoiding both his parents since this morning's interruption. He had thought his parents were making a 'break through' and hadn't wanted to infringe on such a success. When he turned to see his mother all decked out, he had thought his hopes were coming true. "Wow, Mom, you look amazing," he complimented evenly. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, I'm just going out to dinner." Bulma smiled as she finished putting one of her earrings on.

"Dinner? Really?" Trunks couldn't help but smile. He knew his father wasn't much for the human customs of socializing, but under the circumstance, he assumed he had made an exception. "So, is it a date?" His smile widened as he watched his mother turn a familiar shade of red.

"No, not a date," Bulma clarified, though she realized in the technical sense it probably was, she didn't feel the slightest bit comfortable admitting it to her son. 'I wonder how I normally dealt with this topic?' she briefly thought, before bending down to her little boy and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I shouldn't be out too long, all right?" She rose and walked over to the closet and threw on a warm coat. "I'll see you later," she promised, before attempting to leave; Trunks stopped her dead in her tracks with a question.

"What's the hurry? Don't you want to wait for your date-um I mean D-er-Vegeta?" Trunks couldn't understand why his mother would be leaving without him. Perhaps he was already in the car?

"Vegeta?" Bulma blinked in confusion. "Why would I wait for Vegeta?" She closed the door behind her, wanting to hear the child's explanation for his assumption.

"Um… isn't he your date?" Trunks raised a suspicious brow. What was he missing?

"Vegeta? Why on Earth would I go out to dinner with Vegeta?" she asked rather befuddled herself. 'Why would he assume such a thing unless… no… is it possible that something had been going on between Vegeta and I before my accident?' Bulma shook the thought away, it was much too bizarre to consider. "Well?" she demanded of her son.

Trunks tried to shrug off his response as he realized how suspicious his mother was becoming. "I don't know, it's just that the two of you seemed to… I don't know, but this morning I thought… If you're not going out with Vegeta, then who are you going out with?!" Trunks wanted to get right to the focus of this entire conversation.

Bulma, assuming his misinterpretation was from her embarrassing encounter in the kitchen earlier, decided to leave the subject of Vegeta alone; even though the nagging question of why the boy seemed almost delighted by the possibility of the two dating stood out in her mind. "I'm meeting Yamcha for dinner."

"Yamcha!?" Trunks couldn't help but voice his shock. He wasn't so naïve as to be unaware of a relationship that had been between the two, prior to his birth; he didn't like this development at all, and he was more than certain his father wouldn't either. "Mom, I don't think--"

"Not, you too," Bulma stopped him before she had to hear this again. "Look Trunks, I already received the third degree about this from Vegeta, I don't need it from you t--"

"Vegeta? He knows about this?" Trunks was utterly lost. 'Why the hell would he allow this!?'

"Yes, look… ah… I'm already late," Bulma responded rather rushed, before giving Trunks another kiss on the forehead to say goodbye. "It is just dinner. I'll be home before you know it; you have absolutely nothing to worry about." She once more said goodbye, promising to be home at a decent hour, before departing from the house without letting her son have anymore say in the matter.

As soon as his mother was gone, Trunks lips fell into a deep frown. 'If Dad knows about this, then I think it might be a good idea to spend the rest of the night well locked away in my room, because I sure as hell do not want to be around when Mom gets home,' Trunks thought rather despondently, he could just feel that this night wasn't going to end well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Hmmm? So will Trunks' feelings of foreboding be accurate? Will some things go bad this evening? And if so, for whom will they be bad for? Oh, so much could happen! Until next time…