The sight of him was intoxicating. He was healthy and composed. His eyes were clear and focused, his skin well-tanned and unblemished. He was thick-boned having regained all the weight he had lost. Most of these things, she hadn't even noticed were wrong to begin with. When had he lost weight in the first place? When did his tan start to fade and his skin become pallid? Her memory of him, the last time she saw him, became altered by this moment of perfection.

"Well if you just talked to me like normal person!"

"A phone would be normal!"

"Oh, you suddenly know how to use the phone!"

"Talk to your son? He and I communicate just fine that way!"

Bulma pulled back, blinking. Vegeta was speaking differently. It was almost as a normal human would converse. She sucked in a breath to calm the atmosphere, "Can we talk?"

"Aren't we?" he replied sarcastically, glaring at the destruction that surrounded his home. Vegeta spun on his heel and marched inside, caring little if she followed. She took it though as an invitation.

Stepping into his house, she looked around at the place he had bought. It was different from the one she had made with the katchin metals. There was amble space, a kitchen, a living room, and down the hall appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom. She took an uneasy seat on the couch. Her stomach ached in terrible heartache. She felt like she was invading a stranger's home.

Vegeta laid his hands out on the island bar in the kitchen and stared at her. "What?"

She blew out a bit of air. She was terrified he was going to ask her if she wanted something to drink. Bulma wasn't sure she would be able to handle a radical change as that. "I brought the papers."

She watched his face, searching for anything that could betray what he's feeling. But he made no alteration in his features. "Fine."

She unfolded and placed them down on the coffee table. Bulma noticed her hands shaking. "I want to know something." She refused to look at him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Tsk." Bulma glanced over at him. He leaned back against the kitchen sink, folding his arms over his chest. "I simply handed you the papers before you could hand them to me."

She rapidly shook her head, "I would never-"

"Bullshit. From day one, you have been trapped into this." Her brows knit as she flipped her eyes upon him. "You attempted to make this work and I applaud your effort. But it's over now, Bulma. You fight because of pride but this is not surrender. This is a stalemate and it is time to walk away."

Bulma slowly stood. Her back strong and stiff, her hands clenched at her side. "I have never been trapped. So wherever you got that from, you need to just forget it. And I fight not because of pride but because I love you and I have always loved you from the moment I put you in that stupid pink shirt." She smiled, recalling the image perfectly,

Vegeta stepped out of the kitchen and stopped at the base of the hallway, the nearest yet to reach her. His gaze was upon her and the lack of emotion in his gaze told her she was having little effect. He was too convinced by his own words, words he had repeated in his mind for the past month.

The time apart was necessary for their wounds to heal and for her strength to regain itself but in doing so, the silence had made his resolve intensify.

"It's time you face this." Her brows knit. "I don't love you." He turned his back. "Don't come here again."

A door slammed, shocking her senses and she looked around realizing she was alone. She knew what part she was to play next. One role required her screaming and pounding on his door, yelling all kinds of obscenities which would lead to a brawl no doubt and would fix nothing. The opposite role would have her collapse right where she stood, a heaving mess of sobs and tears questioning every moment they have ever shared.

Bulma did neither of these. For if she had taken on either part, it would mean she believed him and there was not a doubt in her mind that Vegeta loved her more than anything else in this world. It all seemed to click at this moment. The reason for the divorce, the reason he has separated himself from his family, and the reason he has completely become a different person. He realized he had tried to kill himself. He finally recognized he was a danger to himself and to others. He was giving her an out.

He's lost all hope on ever recovering.

Bulma shifted around the couch and moved down the hallway. She stood before his door for only a moment before testing the knob. He had left it unlocked. With a steady hand she twisted it and found him facing his only bedroom window. Though it probably once held a beautiful serene view, only rocks and boulders were before him now. He turned his gaze toward her and for a fraction of a second, perhaps she saw sorrow lay in his eyes.

She struggled with words. What could she say that she hadn't already said? How could she convince him to return? She had already confessed she still loved him and he had been unmoved. Vegeta never responded to words. He needed more than that.

Bulma lifted her shirt over her head, revealing her bare breasts for view. His eyes drifted away, "Bulma-" She unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them to her ankles and stepping out of them, standing before him completely naked.

"Tell me I mean nothing." She ordered, stepping closer to him.

He faced her, his arms dropped to his sides. "I would have killed Trunks." He responded distantly.

Bulma stood only inches from him, the silence echoing between them. She reached over and grasped his hand. "Tell me you don't love me." She rested his palm to her cheek leaning against it. His thumb brushing over her lips and she quickly pulled into her mouth, sucking on it before she guided his palm down her neck, over her collarbone and to her breast. She pushed herself against his hand, his eyes flicking down to her bosom and then back to her gaze repeatedly as he tried to talk himself out the situation.

"Your human love fixes nothing."

Bulma lowered to her knees before him. "Tell me." Vegeta only stared at her unmoving. Her fingers graced the line of his pants, moving down the length of him sleeping. "Tell me to go, Vegeta and I'll walk out the door." She slipped her hand down inside, gripping and stroking, waking him up. She watched as he shut his eyes. She pulled the waist of his pants down to his knees, exposing him to the air. "You'll never see me again." Her mouth encircled him, feeling him hit the back of her throat. She moaned, vibrating his skin and she heard him take a quick breath of air. His hand soon rested on her head, gently, perhaps wishing to grab ahold of the strands that no longer were there. It dropped quickly.

Bulma gasped when he gripped her by both arms and shoved her back upon the bed. He stared down at her huffing but she only smiled, worming around on the bed, opening her legs wider, enticing him. He pulled off his shirt and yanked his pants the rest of the way down before crawling between her knees.

His fingers twisted her nipple and she gapped, he was impassive gazing at her with an unsure observation. He leaned down taking the other in his mouth. Her fingers intertwined in his hair, holding him close. "Vegeta. Tell me. Tell me you don't love me." She begged. If by chance it was true, any further and she would never recover. She needed something. She needed words. She was human, after all. Vegeta stopped any other words by covering her lips with his own, their tongues finding one another instantly and for several minutes they only kissed, holding onto one another with their naked bodies pressed up close.

Soon, Vegeta felt her thigh in a subtle hint. He pulled from her lips and sitting back on his heels, he brought her into him, watching the process carefully. She was extremely tight after the months apart and his teeth clenched to keep from bursting. She bit her lip from pain but with a only a few strokes, she forgot quickly and her moans filled the room.

He kept twisting her in multiple directions to stop himself from finishing. She herself was working on her third by the time he couldn't hold back anymore and with her sitting upon his lap he held tight to her sweat covered body and they finished finally together. She gripped him harshly, panting in his ear, resting her face beside his. "Come home." She begged him.

It was what he had been waiting to hear. She had abandoned him, thrown him away, given up on him, and this entire month he thought he was going to watch his family from afar for the remainder of his life. He didn't understand separation. He understood together and not together. He wasn't going to beg Bulma to take him back. Takashi kept saying he had to apologize. He showed him movies and pictures of men who had no spine and no pride. Vegeta wasn't like that. There was no way he could buy a 'I'm sorry' card or a 'Please forgive me' teddy bear. It wasn't going to happen. So he opted to threaten Bulma with a divorce, scare her straight, and he would be forgiven.

He hadn't thought it would take her so long. Days past and he was beginning to think he would lose her. The medicine she gave him worked well with little side effects. He eats more than usual and he sleeps through the night, good side effects according to Takashi. He could go home but she never came back.

Seeing them on TV, continuing on with their lives, struck him hard. They didn't need him. They didn't want him. He was only a burden. He was messed up and it was so obvious that he was never going to be perfect. So it was better this way. He was glad Bulma never came back.

But she had come for him. She was fighting for him. By all rights, he doesn't deserve it, he was relieved she had finally come. Life was incomplete without her and without the children. He was a shell, simply waiting to be filled with life.

Love. Human love was a complicated thing. There were so many different kinds of love, so many levels and ways to love. It had taken him so long to understand love, to find it, when he had it all this time. It was right in his arms. It was amazing. It was inspiring. It was soothing. It was peaceful. He had found peace. Years and years of searching for a day of solace and all he needed was her and her affection.

Whatever the gods had planned in the future let it come. He was finally ready.

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did, thank you very much for your devotion. I appreciate it. Jeeze, four years went by in that time. How crazy.