Not likely! Sure she'd felt sorry for him last night, but that didn't mean that she wanted him. Unbidden, she
flashed to the memory of his heat between her legs. She shook her head, banishing that thought to the farthest reaches
of her memory, exactly where it belonged.

"So, what did happen?" her mother asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Bulma sighed. Obviously her mother wasn't going to let this one go. "I don't know. I heard something outside. When I
glanced out my window, there he was. He looked...I don't know...strange, so I went outside. I asked him what was
wrong, but he didn't answer. After a while he looked up suddenly. I asked him what he saw, and he said 'Nothing.' I
don't know what he meant by that, but I'm sure it meant something."

Mrs. Briefs frowned in thought. Bulma ate a pancake while she waited for her mother to figure out whatever it was that
she was trying to figure out. After a moment, the older woman flipped another pancake onto the serving plate and said,
"He must be very lonely."

Bulma shook her head, not following that one. "Why do you say that? He lives with us. He spars with Goku and Gohan all
the time. He's surrounded by people."

Mrs. Briefs sighed. "Yes, I know, but look at how much time he spends alone in the gravity room. He's there alone more
than he's with anyone." She shook her head. "But that's not quite what I meant. He must be lonely because he's the
only one of his kind left. That must be a terrible burden for someone so young."

Bulma thought that only her mother could consider Vegeta young. "But he's not the only Saiyan. There's Goku."

Mrs. Briefs turned from her pancakes. "Bulma, honey. Goku is a dear. You know that. But to say that he's anything like
Vegeta is a terrible overstatement."

Bulma realized her mother was right. Goku might be Saiyan by blood, but he was an Earthling by temperament. "Okay,
you've got a point. But I never got the impression that Vegeta cared enough about anything other than himself to feel
lonely."

"If that's what you've been thinking then you haven't been paying attention!" Mrs. Briefs turned back to her cooking,
pouring three more pancakes into the pan.

Bulma blinked. Her mild-mannered mother never spoke like that. What had gotten into her? Did she actually like her
arrogant houseguest? She wasn't sure what to say next. "Umm. Mom. I think you're making more food than anyone will
eat."

"Vegeta still might want seconds."

Bulma decided this was a good time to make her escape.

Vegeta didn't appear for lunch, which surprised Bulma. Like Goku, Vegeta rarely missed a meal, and he always ate more
than the rest of the Briefs family put together. She often thought it was a good thing that Capsule Corp was
enormously rich. The grocery bill to feed a single Saiyan was enough to bankrupt some small countries. She never could
figure out how Chi-Chi managed to afford to feed two of them.

When he didn't appear for dinner, she began to be seriously concerned. She had been hearing the loud hum from the
gravity room all day, so she knew he was still in the compound. After she finished her meal, she assembled a tray to
take to him. She blushed at the approving smile her mother gave her as she left the kitchen.

At the gravity room, she put down the tray to knock. After a moment, she heard the machinery power down, and she
opened the door.

Vegeta hung in the air, looking down at her. "Why do you interrupt me, woman?"

Bulma felt her face flush, but she actually wasn't in the mood to argue tonight. She'd been working on a thorny
programming problem all day, and she was mentally exhausted. "I thought you might like something to eat since you
skipped lunch."

He slowly lowered himself to the floor. Bulma never tired of watching him fly. Just once, she wished she could fly.
She'd flown with Yamcha, but it couldn't be the same as doing it herself, under her own power. She didn't even notice
that the thought of Yamcha brought no pain.

He picked up the tray, sat down on the floor and began to eat. Since he didn't order her to leave, she sat down to
keep him company. He scowled at her once from under lowered eyebrows but said nothing. They sat in silence, broken
only by the low mechanical hum behind them and the occasional click of Vegeta's chopsticks against his plate.

Surprisingly, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. As with last night, Bulma had the distinct impression that he didn't
mind having her there, not that he would have admitted it if she'd asked. Perhaps her mother was right. Perhaps he was
lonely. But she didn't know how to help him. She could hardly invent a full-blooded Saiyan with full mental capacity
out of thin air.

As soon as Vegeta finished, he levitated back to the ceiling and looked at her expectantly.

"What?"

He frowned. "I suggest you leave. 100Gs would be...damaging...to you." His voice had only a trace of his usual
sarcasm, as if he was trying but his heart wasn't in it.

"Oh, yeah. See you later."

"Not if I can avoid it."

Hmm. That sounded more like the Vegeta she knew. She picked up the tray and left.

That night she couldn't sleep. Even though the air was cool, she felt hot, and she tossed and turned, sending most of
the covers to the floor.

Finally, about 3:00 in the morning, she sat bolt upright in bed, realizing that she was waiting for Vegeta to come to
bed. He always walked by her room on the way to the shower somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00. Until that moment, she
hadn't consciously thought about noticing his movements, or caring about it. Angrily, she told herself to stop being a
silly clunk. She wasn't in love with him or anything. He could come to bed or not as he chose, and she had no business
listening for his footsteps in the hall. With that thought, she pulled the covers over her head and practically willed
herself to sleep.

The next morning she awoke with a furious headache. She groaned, knowing this headache meant she hadn't gotten nearly
enough sleep. She settled back under the blanket and tried to drift back off for another few hours, but the birds
singing cheerily outside her window wouldn't let her.

Finally, she gave up and staggered out of bed. It seemed she was doing that a lot lately. Damn Vegeta and his blasted
moods. They were his own problem. Why was she making them hers?

She pulled on some clothes and stepped into the hallway. Something made her turn to go by Vegeta's room and peer in.
The bed was made. Vegeta didn't put away his own dishes, and he certainly didn't make his own bed. Her mother never
did the bedrooms this early, so it looked as if Vegeta hadn't come in at all last night. A nameless emotion that was
remarkably like fear passed through her, and she hurried to the gravity room. She couldn't remember him ever training
all night before.

When she arrived, the machinery was still running. She glanced in through the window and saw Vegeta lying on the
floor. Now she put a name to the emotion flooding her. It was definitely fear. She hit the override by the door and
hurried in, slipping twice on the slick floor in her hurry to get to his side.

She leaned over him anxiously. No visible injuries. He was sprawled on his stomach, legs every which way and his head
pillowed on one arm. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She shook him gently, but he didn't move. Panicking,
knowing nothing at all of Saiyan physiology, she did the only thing she could think of.

She called Goku.

Goku arrived quickly, and Bulma threw herself at his broad chest as soon as he appeared in the doorway to the gravity
room. "Goku. What's wrong with him?"

He hugged her back, patting her shoulder. "I don't know Bulma. Why don't you let me take a look at him."

She stepped back. "Oh, yeah. I guess that would help."

The larger Saiyan stepped over to kneel over Vegeta. The look on his face was concentration. After a moment, he stood
up, smiling. "He'll be fine. He's just really wiped out. What happened?"

Bulma sat down in a heap of relief. "Oh, thank Kami. I had no idea, but it looked bad."

Goku came over and settled beside her. "So what happened?" he repeated.

Bulma sighed. "Well, he was really weird two nights ago. He was standing in the courtyard, and I knew something was
wrong, but he wouldn't talk about it. Then he didn't eat lunch yesterday. I brought him some dinner, but then he
didn't come to bed last night." She slowed her rush of words. Goku wasn't always the most perceptive, but she
suspected even he could see she was really worried about Vegeta. She didn't want him asking any awkward questions
before she had a chance to think through the answers.

She resumed, more in control. "Anyway, I sort of noticed that he hadn't come to bed last night." She tried to ignore
the way Goku raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn't ask, so she continued. "I came out here to see if he was...I
mean if he wanted breakfast, and he was lying on the floor like that."

Goku nodded. "Uh huh. He probably trained all night. You say he skipped lunch?"

Bulma nodded.

"Yeah, he just overdid it. He and I can go without stuffing ourselves if we have to, but not if we're training that
hard." He frowned. "Wonder why he trained all night? That's not like him" He looked at Bulma, his eyes disturbingly
intense, not at all like his usual goofy, happy-go-lucky