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Chapter 0 - Prologue

What happens when two stubborn, self-centered, strong mind personalities clash? A 3 years BV. A little different from usual, I expect

Chapter 0 - Prologue

Chapter 0 - Prologue
Bulma leaned over the computer typing feverishly. It was a mere research, nothing of important or urgent, but anything was good to keep her mind away from that subject. She was almost sure her current indispositions had something to do with the tension and stress it was causing to her. She wasn't feeling like herself ultimately; she wept without any reason in a moment and in another a single innocent comment was enough to make her burst out in rage. She slept bad and ate worse. Her mother had suggested her to see a doctor, but Bulma promptly dismissed it. She hated doctors, hospitals and anything relationed to them, and anyway it seemed too much ado about so little. It was probably a flu, yes, that's it. She would be fine.

She scratched the back of her neck, her fingers brushing her fresh-cropped lashes. Trying to rise her spirits up, she had visited the beauty parlor that morning to cut the rest of the permanent off. The result was both simple and elegant, remembering a bit the haircut she wore when Radditz had showed up. Not as beautiful as long hair, but very practical, it didn't get in the way when she worked with her inventions. Besides, by her first time in her life, Bulma didn't care (too much) if other people would think she was beautiful or not. She sighed bitterly.

Almost in silence, the door opened up, but Bulma didn't turn around. Even not hearing anything further, she could perfectly feel the short, muscular figure walking towards her in his feline pace, sting-eyeing at her now very smaller head. She stiffened defensively. He would probably say that she looked like a man, or that she'd look better bald. Or even pretend to not recognize her. The most probable, however, was that he didn't even take notice of her new hair. Saiyans or humans, men were all alike. Boor and unsensitive...

"Hrm. Much better."Vegeta grunted.

Bulma almost jumped in her chair. Had she heard well? Had Vegeta made a compliment? Forgetting her initial plan of ignoring him, she turned on her chair, a beautiful smile lighting up her face:
"Do... do you like it? Really?" her voice sounded disbelieving, but as well anxious.

Vegeta felt the familiar pang he always had when she smiled at him like that, with her blues eyes shining like they were filled with myriads of mycroscopic stars. Automatically, he folded his arms across his chest, like shielding himself from her: "No. But at least you stopped looking like a silly sheep ."

Bulma felt her blood pipe hot. Should had expected that! How could she had been so naive to believe that, just for a moment, that self-centered jerk would be able to say something gentleeven to her? Only the smirk at the corner of Vegeta's mouth kept her from bursting out. That was what he wanted.

"Hmpf!"she primly closed her eyes and lifted up her little nose" Better to be a graceful sheep than a arrogant hedgehog! At least someone here changes her hair occasionally." and returned to her work. Vegeta sneered:

"Occasionally? Since we met, I already saw you with FOUR different hairs, including that junk! A Saiyan's hair doesn't grow that odd way, and doesn't has to be cut all the time, either."

"So if I cut and shaved all your spikes off you'd be bald forever? How temptating!"Bulma scoffed, her eyes on the computer screen "But you haven't come after hair-fighting, Vegeta. What do you want?"

Vegeta shut up, irked at her question. Actually, he didn't know why he was there. It had been just like a sort of magnet had pulled him towards her place against his own will, just like it happened so many times before. Like if he just had to see her, one last time, before he ... Vegeta nearly shook his head. Absurd. That was what he got for bedding an Earth woman: her race's sentimentality was contaminating him. No wonder that a pure-blood Saiyan like Kakarrott had become a soft-hearted dumb just for living in that sickening planet. But not him.

They stayed there a long while, one working and another watching, one without knowing what to say and another fearing to listen. The air between them was so tense that could be cut in half, the woman thought. Vegeta had avoided her by the last couple of weeks and she finally had found why. A hard lump began to form in her throat. In part, it was her fault, as much as it costed her to admit, but blaming herself wouldn't do any good now. She peeked at Vegeta through the corner of her eye: he was still there, frowning and arms folded, like an statue. Bulma couldn't stand it anymore.

"When are you leaving?"she asked a very casual tone; only a slight tremble in her fingers betrayed her anxiety, and she prayed for him to not notice it.

Vegeta suppressed a gasp. He had deliberately concealed his plans of training out in space from her: the woman was getting more and more unbearable each day and if she learned that he was going off again, every window and glass at the Capsule Corp would be shattered by her shrieks. He didn't fear her, of course, but he also didn't want to be deaf. Besides, that diabolic vixen was downright able to do anything to keep him, from sabotaging the ship to slip that blasted "pee-pee" stuff in his food.

And now she calmly asked about his trip, like it was nothing. He never would understand her.

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