A/N: This is a re-write that i'm going to be working on ... please R/R and let me know what you think! I want to try a more serious...angsty version of the three years. Eventually I want to expand to be a full, true, story with LOTS of dialog and fill in the scenes reflected in the chapters ahead. Thanks everyone for their support and reviews!

He watched her closely all the time. From the first time he saw her cower in fear to the present moment he watched. She was graceful, beautiful, and deadly in her own way. A perfect match for him and he knew it. He silently watched the way her hair fell in her face, and the way her fingers moved to push it away. He memorized the way her lips curled to smile and the way her eyes looked when she was concentrating fiercely. He followed the sway of her hips and the strides in her steps as she walked, ran, skipped and jumped. She was beautiful, powerful, and confusing. He had never cared for another person before, had never been the slightest bit interested in anything to do with them. More concerned with their death than their life, why was she different? And that angered him. She was different.

She attempted to talk to him several times. Jokingly poking and prodding at his pride trying to make him show any sort of emotion aside from rage. He ignored her attempts, insisting on referring to her as his slave, earth woman, barely fit to be on the same planet as him let alone in the same room. He noticed how her eyes grew bigger when he insulted her, pushed her away. Filled with an emotion he didn't understand, hurt. He was used to pain, fear and anger but hurt was new. To hurt someone, they had to care and he had never had anyone – allowed anyone – to care for him. He was scared and so he retreated the only way he knew how. He hurt her more.

She was persistent though. Never wallowing in pity for too long. Never backing down and away despite his attempts. She always came back, stronger, more determined, and with a viper attached to her tongue. She chided him, made him feel small and weak with her eyes and words. The more she scolded, the more he was intrigued. How far could he push her, how far was she willing to go to stay?

The night she tried to kiss him he almost destroyed her. He was shocked, confused as to what she was doing. She smelled of lust, alcohol and some deep emotion he had never felt before. Her eyes were big again, eager and excited and her skin was flushed a light pink. He felt his own heart pounding as she came to him. He couldn't let her bring him down with her. He needed to focus his energy on being stronger, faster, and over all better than everyone else. He was a Prince, she was a slave woman. Yet, as he looked into her half open eyes he felt as if he were slave to her. At that exact moment he knew he would die for her. He knew he would protect her above all else and he knew he would never be able to be without her. It was only for a moment, until she placed her lips on his and he felt a fire burn through his skin, filling his toes and fingers, rushing to the tips of his hair and he felt a sense of fullness in his heart.

He pushed her away, nearly sending her through the wall as she collapsed into a heap against the floor. He watched her, restraining the urge to go to her, hold her and apologize. The feeling made bile rise in his throat and he turned his back on her and flew out the window. Flew as fast and as far as he could. His teeth grinding and he swore again and again at the spell she had put on him. He was a ruthless villain! He had no time for women. No time for her. She should die, they should all die! And as he fought the feelings that were growing inside of him he fell to the ground.

He knelt on the ground and drove his fist into the earth. "Damn her" he spit. And as he pictured her face, pictured her big blue eyes, and the curve of her smile he knew he loved her. The realization brought a swarm of emotions within him but this time instead of fighting, he embraced them. He loved her too, He loved the maddening woman that was Bulma Briefs. There was only one thing left to do.

Looking up at the sky he remembered her laying on the ground, crumpled from his hand. He flew harder and faster than he knew he could, racing to get back to her. To his Princess. It took half the time to reach her and as he landed, he noticed how the room was black and the air was cold. He looked for her, his eyes for the first time softening from a scowl into a worried look.

"Bulma?" he whispered her name aloud for the first time, afraid. Afraid to admit she was gone. He had pushed her too far this time.