Hello all! Teresa here. This is my first fanfic, though I've got two others in the works. This is just the one that I finished first. My story is hentai free, although at times some things are suggested, thus the rating. I wrote this story because I never really agreed with other conceptions of how Vegeta and Bulma got together, so I decided to figure out for myself how such a thing could have happened. Not to say that I'm more correct than anyone else; only the all-knowing Akira Toriyama could possibly say with any amount of certainty what happened. And speaking of the great Toriyama, these characters are his, not mine. Though I'm sure he's made a whole lot of money off of them, I've made…nothing. If you want to sue me anyway, go ahead, but you'd get more money if you sued my stinking older brother who still owes me $300. Pay me back, dangit! I need that money too! Oh well, on with the story.

A Shelter From My Storm

Part One

Vegeta toweled himself down and pulled his dark blue bodysuit back on. He had been training all day and was quite hungry, so he was headed to the kitchen before calling it a night.

"What was that?!" Bulma shouted as he opened the fridge. Vegeta looked up, startled, thinking she must be in one of her moods again and was mad at him for some silly, female reason.

"No, I heard a voice, Yamcha!" she yelled. Vegeta scowled in disapproval as he realized she was talking with her weak, human boyfriend again. He disregarded the shouts that were coming from upstairs as he drank a glass of milk quickly and poured another.

"No, it was not Puar!" she argued, "And don't try that 'it was the T.V.' thing on me again!" Vegeta began eating his sandwich as he listened casually. It was all rather amusing. Though this Yamcha was weak compared to Vegeta himself, Bulma was no match for that human's power. Yet he was obviously afraid of her. Vegeta wondered why. It was almost as ridiculous as Kakarot being frightened of his mate.

"It was a girl, wasn't it, Yamcha?" her voice was softer now, and she was obviously on the verge of tears. Vegeta snorted disdainfully. Silly Earth woman. Crying was for the weak. She was not injured. There was no excuse for her whimpering.

"Yamcha, how many times have we been through this?" she sobbed. Vegeta finished his sandwich and began a piece of pie he had found.

"You promised me this wouldn't happen again!" she tried to shout, though she was still crying. "But why Yamcha?!" she sniffed loudly. Vegeta curled his lip up in disgust. Sniveling was no way for her to secure that human's attentions. Vegeta hated that sound.

"Am I just not good enough for you?" she cried. Vegeta bit viciously into an apple. "Well if that's the way you feel about me, why do you keep cheating on me?" she asked as her sobs subsided.

"Well I don't CARE if you FEEL like you're under PRESSURE!!" she screeched, startling Vegeta into spilling a bit of the milk he was drinking. "I'M under PRESSURE TOO!! Do you see ME with ANOTHER MAN?!!" Vegeta grinned slightly in approval. Bulma was behaving like a Saiyan female now. That was the way to get what she wanted from her weak boyfriend.

"NO!!" she screamed, "I DO NOT SLEEP WITH THAT MAN!!!" she was obviously enraged. "BECAUSE HE HATES ME, I HATE HIM, AND HE'S A COMPLETE JERK!!!!" she screamed. Vegeta winced slightly. He didn't envy Yamcha now, seeing as how the human could probably hear that woman's screams even better than Vegeta could. He wondered who Yamcha thought that woman was sleeping with. This was quite entertaining.

"Well you know what Yamcha?" her voice was barely audible now, but cold as ice. Vegeta's eyes went wide in surprise. He had never heard her this angry before. An involuntary chill went up his spine, but he continued to listen. "I'd sooner sleep with Vegeta himself than ever think about being with you in that way again. You are worse than him. At least he doesn't pretend to care. We're through. Goodbye." She hung up. Vegeta felt a moment or two of discomfiture as he heard her walking down the stairs into the living room. But he quickly put on his usual smirk as she entered the kitchen and paused, shocked at his presence. She shrugged after a moment and continued on to the sink, getting herself a glass of water. Her face was tired and expressionless with red, wet eyes and cheeks from crying.

"So, I guess this means that weak human of yours won't be visiting for a week or so." Vegeta laughed at the look of shock on her face as she realized he had heard her.

"His name is Yamcha and he'll never be visiting again." She spit the words out. Bulma felt embarrassed. How much of that had he been able to hear? "You know, here on Earth, we try not to eavesdrop on others. It's called being polite. It's one of our customs." She shot at him.

"Silly Earth woman." Vegeta sneered, his arms crossed. "I wouldn't waste time eavesdropping on your meaningless drivel. I couldn't help but hear it, you speak so loud."

Bulma simply glared at him, trying to come up with a good come back. Damn him. He could always argue so much better than her.

"So," Vegeta flashed a wicked grin as he decided to play his trump card, "you would sooner sleep with me than that weak boyfriend of yours?"

"H-His name is Yamcha!" Bulma sputtered in completely flustered rage.

"Yes," Vegeta narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, ignoring her weak comment, "makes sense, actually." He shot her a sly look, "I'm obviously more of a man than that weakling will ever be."

"Vegeta!!" Bulma pleaded, hoping he would stop. She was so upset now that she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Poor woman." Vegeta smirked in mock pity, "I'm afraid that after you have become so accustomed to him, I might accidentally destroy your frail, weak body if I were to sleep with you. Perhaps you should start training." He laughed wickedly at his own joke. "Maybe then, one day you could handle me. But until that time, I'm afraid you would be safer with your weak human, boyfriend."

"THAT'S ENOUGH VEGETA!!!!!" she screamed in rage and indignance. Bulma ran out of the room, completely frustrated and embarrassed. Vegeta watched her go, grinning smugly. Suddenly he had a queer feeling in his gut. Must have been something he ate. Vegeta ignored it and went to bed.

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"I hate that man." Bulma muttered as she washed dishes that next morning. She had known last night that Vegeta was just teasing her, so she didn't want him to believe that she was really upset with him. This morning, she had made him a nice, big breakfast instead of the usual bowl of cereal and fruit or frozen waffles. But did he appreciate her hard work? No, of course not. He had seemed a bit startled when he entered the room, but he quickly regained his composure and eyed the meal critically. Not only did he not offer one word in thanks, or even a gracious smile; he had the audacity to complain. He muttered about how the eggs weren't spicy enough and how he needed more butter for his dry toast. She might have let all of this slide, but he only ate about half of her food, when Bulma knew he was easily capable of finishing twice as much. He said something about how he couldn't train well if he ate too much breakfast, and then left. He just had to act so tough all the time. Would it be so horrible for his reputation if he just showed that anything she did mattered or affected him at all?

She sighed, grinning slightly as though she were a mother thinking fondly of her child. Bulma was almost positive that he showed he cared in his own strange, twisted ways. Now that she though about it without as much anger, Bulma realized how funny his sharp comments last night were. She giggled at the thought. A sense of humor? Vegeta? What a funny idea! Maybe Vegeta was one of the reasons she wasn't still crying and upset about her break up with Yamcha. Perhaps she was misconstruing his vague and seemingly commonplace actions, but maybe he was trying to cheer her up; or at least distract her from thoughts of Yamcha. Even if he had done it by accident, she felt a lot better just thinking of the slim chance that he might just appreciate her at all.

Even though she often felt a burning, intolerant rage toward Vegeta, Bulma often managed to tolerate him by convincing herself that this whole I-care-for-no-one-because-I-am-evil-and-all-powerful thing was just a façade. She liked the thought that perhaps he appreciated everything she did, although she was often quite sure that he didn't even acknowledge her existence. She saw how callously he acted around everyone, including her. It made her hope that one day, he'd show her some of the goodness she knew he had to have somewhere inside of him. That thing inside him which had caused him to fight for good from now on, rather than against them. She knew it had to be there and she hoped that some day she could get him to show his true self. That was, of course, assuming that this smart-ass, callous jerk she knew so well wasn't the true Vegeta. After all, Piccolo might be pretty scary, but he was basically good now. She could hope. It kept her from trying to kill him.

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"Silly, sentimental Earth woman!" Vegeta muttered sharply to himself as he trained that morning. "I can't stand her silly frivolity!" He scowled as he let loose a couple of good blasts. "What does she want with cooking me breakfast anyway?" he growled, "She obviously expects something, but she can just forget that little idea of hers! She's not getting anything from me." He narrowed his eyes coldly. He couldn't understand that woman at all. When Vegeta had first come to live and train here, he had immediately decided that he despised that loud temperamental woman. So he quickly got into the habit of purposefully insulting her and teasing her at every opportunity he got. He could tell that this made the woman extremely embarrassed and angry with him. But for some reason Vegeta could not begin to comprehend, or at least not so far as he could see, she still seemed to at least tolerate or even enjoy his company.

The fact that she was a nearly impossible enigma to Vegeta only increased his impatience toward that woman. What did she want from him anyway? He couldn't even count the number of times she'd given him that expectant look that meant she wanted him to give her that which was her due. There were a few obstacles that prevented her from getting this from Vegeta, though. First, he understood what the look meant basically, but not exactly what she expected him to give her. Second, he didn't understand what she wanted to be repaid for. Third and most importantly, he was Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans, and he'd be damned if he was going to play gracious house guest to her, weak Earth woman that she was.

Damn her anyway. Why couldn't that woman just let him alone?

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Bulma had just finished with making Vegeta's customary sandwich and was putting it in its place on the top shelf of the refrigerator when she heard a loud explosion outside.

"Damn him," she muttered worriedly as she quickly made her way outside, "I can't leave that man alone for one minute!" she cocked her head in confusion at the sight that greeted her when she opened the door and looked outside.

She had expected to again see Vegeta crawling from the rubble of the ruined gravity room. Instead, she saw him standing in front of the untouched gravity room. He was glaring at a lump of blood and singed feathers that lay on the ground about seven feet from him. The thing, which Bulma could only assume had been a bird at one time, was still smoking. Vegeta was holding an open hand up toward it, as though threatening it with another ki blast. Bulma relaxed her tense and worried posture and sighed, shaking her head impatiently and placing a hand on her him in irritation.

"Damn birds." Vegeta scowled, still watching the bird instead of Bulma. "Let's hear you squawk at me from the next dimension." He chuckled evilly.

"Vegeta," Bulma chided with the air of a mother who had given this lecture to her disobedient child one too many times, "How many times have I asked you not to kill the animals out here? I don't want to take care of that mess. Also, you scared me half to death! I thought the gravity room had blown up again."

"Woman?" Vegeta sneered at her, "Can't you hear the difference between a bird exploding and that thing?" he jabbed his finger in the direction of the gravity room. "And there won't be a mess if I take care of it." He picked the fowl up by it's leg and gave Bulma a wicked grin, "Hungry?" he held it up toward her in mock generosity.

"Ugh." Bulma covered her mouth as her face scrunched up in disgust, "No thanks."

"Hmph." Vegeta shrugged as he walked past her and into the house with the corpse still in hand. "Your loss."

"No, I don't think so!" Bulma sprang into action, chasing after Vegeta as he took his catch to the kitchen. "I don't want that…that thing in my house!" she ran into the kitchen and saw him adeptly plucking the last few feathers that hadn't been burnt off of the bird's body. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" she asked irritably.

"Starting dinner." He offered after a long pause, during which he washed off and gutted the carcass in the sink.

"Since when does the Prince of Saiyans eat road kill?" Bulma asked, her voice laden with sarcasm.

"It isn't road kill woman!" Vegeta snapped as he put the carrion in a roasting pan and turned the oven on. He began tasting spices from the cupboard and sprinkling a few of them over his prize. "I killed it, and it wasn't on the road!"

"That doesn't make it any less disgusting!" Bulma shot back at him. She threw her arms up in frustration as Vegeta finished adding spices to his creation and prepared to put it in the oven. "Do you even know how to make that thing work?" she asked incredulously as he closed the oven door.

"Of course I do!" Vegeta scowled at her. She held back the smug grin that she could feel pulling up on the corners of her mouth. That had gotten to his pride. He shook his head impatiently as he set the oven timer, "How inept do you think I am woman!" he yelled at her, obviously disturbed. She savored the fact that she had the advantage for once. He was no better at hiding his anger than she was, and that was easily visible to both of them.

"Sure. If you say so." She smirked. "But I don't want the kitchen burning down!" Bulma laughed as she turned to leave.

"Ha, you laugh at my cooking!" Vegeta roared with contemptuous laughter, "The only cooking that deserves to be laughed at around here is yours woman! That is, if the person who is forced to eat it lives long enough to tell about it!" He chuckled as she struggled for a come back, but eventually stormed out of the kitchen. Vegeta decided to go train some more while his dinner was cooking.

"I hate that man." Bulma grumbled as she flopped down in the chair in front of her desk and began going over some papers.

***End (of part 1, that is)***