Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ For Crying Out Loud! ❯ Inexorable... what? I like that word... ( Chapter 6 )

**A/N: Well, I'm back home! And let me tell you, the few days at my folks' house was just what I needed. The wheels have been turning quite a bit (I swear I smell smoke)... mostly while I was trying to sleep... Most good ideas pop up when you're trying NOT to think.. heh.. anyway, on with the chapter. Oh, before I forget, would ya'll please read the "review" I wrote? It has to do with how things will turn out in this story, and I NEED opinions! Anyway... read on!

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I worked late into the night, trying my hardest to follow every instruction that Bulma gave me. Vegeta had demanded an upgrade in the system as well as repairs. Though she assured me it would be a walk in the park, it seemed more like a ten mile trek on my hands and knees. I can't even remember how many times, in my half asleep haze, I dropped a wrench or screwdriver, causing them to connect with my eyes or the bridge of my nose, laying on my back as I was. Bulma had insisted that this approach made things much easier.

I could have killed her.

By the time I was finished and left the Gravity Room, the morning sun was already creeping up over the horizon, casting the yard in relaxed shadows and twilight. The easy feeling of the scene gave me another idea, though it was not to torture poor Vegeta, no matter how much fun I derived from it. Leaving Bulma's tool box where it was, I snuck back into the house, hoping that no one was awake or that I wouldn't wake them myself. I brewed a pot of coffee, and snatching an afghan off of the living room couch. I wrapped the cozy blanket around my body, cup of Joe in hand, and walked back outside.

The sun was little higher now, but the top arch still barely visible against the trees and mountains in the distance. I walked slowly in bare feet over the decorative garden pathway towards a small pond near the edge of the property. The pond itself was not very large, but big enough for a small family of Gold Fish to be content. There were pretty soft pink lilies floating on the surface, as well as a single mint green colored frog who stared at me with wide eyes, his throat bubbling out making a gulp! sound. At the other end of the pond there was a break in the tree line, giving me a perfect view of the sunrise I had come outside to witness.

It had been three years since I had watched the sun rise, though those circumstances were quite disheartening compared to the situation I was in now. I found a flat, comfortable rock near the water's edge, pulling the afghan tighter around the small body I inhabited, and took a sip of the hot coffee. I let my mind and body relax, trying to enjoy the natural work of art that was forming before my eyes. Silently, I allowed myself to pretend that this sunrise was painted on the blue canvass of sky especially for me. Each color chosen with care. Every stoke of light created to make me feel happy and safe. But, my mind drifted back to the last sunrise I had seen.

Of how I had witnessed it through a haze of blood.

I lowered my head into my hands, and for the first time in 3 years, I allowed myself to cry.

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"What do you mean Bulma's gay?" Goku asked Yamcha, a few hours later into the day, miles and miles away from Capsule Corporation. They were in a clearing inside a vast forest. A Z fighters favorite sparring place, though non of the others were there. Yamcha had asked Goku to come with him, saying that he needed to talk. Goku would have declined the invitation, knowing full well what Chichi would do to him if she caught him sneaking out of the house this early in the day. But something inside of the man's eyes had urged Goku to go. He was his friend after all.

"Gay. A dyke. A box eater. A carpet muncher. A-"

"I know what gay is Yamcha. And Bulma is DEFINITELY not gay."

"How do you know? Has she told you that she wasn't?"

Goku could only stare at his friend. What if what Yamcha was telling him was the truth? Bulma did seem different to him yesterday, especially when he had mentioned her now ex-boyfriend.

"Please Goku, if Bulma has said ANYTHING about her not being gay, you have to let me know! This whole thing is killing me." he spoke softly, his voice betraying his thick resolve as it cracked with unshed tears. How could she do this to him? After all the time he had spent with her. After everything he had done for her. Catered to her every whim. Followed her around like a lost puppy. All that hard work thrown out the window at her words. Was he not man enough? Wasn't he good enough to be with her? Why would she want to turn to the arms of someone else, ESPECIALLY a woman, when she had him all these years?

"She hasn't said anything about being gay or not. But, if it will make you feel better, I'll talk to her about it." Goku tried to reassure his friend. He had never had to deal with a weeping man before, and he wasn't quite sure how to react. Yamcha nodded his head and turned away, giving Goku a silent signal that he could leave him now. Goku powered up and took off towards home, promising himself that he would have this discussion with Bulma soon. But first, he had to deal with Chichi, and the ever present frying pan.

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"Vegeta sweetheart! Will you do me a favor?" Bunny chirped at the crabby Saiyan as he descended the stairs. As much as he despised the woman, he didn't want to kill her. Her husband had built the Gravity Room for him, and her death would definitely mean he'd lose that. Turning gruffly, he crossed his arms and tried his hardest to stare the woman down. Of course, his cold look didn't phase her.

"What."

"Would you please go outside and bring Bulma back in? She works so late you know, and the silly girl fell asleep in the garden!"

"Why can't you go do it?"

His words fell on deaf ears when Bunny turned back to her task of cooking breakfast. Sighing, Vegeta walked outside, his eyes scanning the gardens for the blue haired menace. She was easy enough to spot, her hair a deep contrast to the soft pinks and yellows of the flowers surrounding the pond. With every intention of tossing her into the pond to wake her, Vegeta stalked over, his feet stamping hard against the pale stone pathway. But when he reached her, something inside him made him stop his intended assault. He had seen the onna sleeping before, but not like this.

Her body was curled up into a fetal position, the afghan around her was tight. She was clutching it as though her very life depended on it. Her bare toes peeked out from under the blanket in a childish way. His eyes scanned up the curled body to her exposed face. It held a sort of sad peace to it. There were dark lines of tears down her cheeks, and her brows were knit together in silent contemplation. Her expression was that of one who has lost anything and everything they once thought real and constant in their life.

He knew that expression.

He had worn it at one time himself.

Sighing despite himself, Vegeta knelt down and took the sad, sleeping form into his arms to carry her back to the house. In her sleep, Bulma nuzzled against the heat of Vegeta, trying so desperately to embrace that warmth. To forget the evident pain inside of her. To lose herself in the comfort. Sighing again, Vegeta knew somewhere within himself that he was going to get into something inexorable.

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**A/N: Yes I know. This chapter was rather somber; a dark contrast to the others. But don't worry. This wont turn morbid... just yet ~_^. All part of the plot people. The next chapter should be funny again... I hope. I don't think I'm funny personally.... eh... no more talk.. Please review! Love you all!