For those of you who don’t know: Grad 2002 is my School’s Graduation Ceremony. Even though I don’t graduate (‘cause I’m a slacker! Don’t be like me!) I still have a lot of things to get done. So I may be busy. I’ll try not to rush the chapters.

I tried to blend the emotions of the last chapter. I tried for romance, humor, suspense and a little bit of lust. I’m still going to draw out the actual ‘Lemon’ chapter. I’m sure a lot of you are waiting. Bulma and Vegeta Lemons are just too good to be true. Well, hope you enjoy this chapter, and, (as always!) have fun.

~J.J

R’haksin awoke to a terrible sight.

The storm had came and went within hours, but had left nearly a years worth of unrepairable damage. Trees lay scattered and tossed about like leaves, their trunks split down the middle like peeled bananas. Tiny rivers of water flooded down hills and filled up crevasses in the mountains, washing away unfortunate wildlife that had been caught outside. The strange blue lightning had left mountainous holes and craters in the ground where it had struck. It looked like a wasteland.

Yet the buildings and foundations had remained strong throughout the ordeal. The winds had not been strong enough to take them down or deal them damage. Now, uneasy Storkrins awoke to the dull howling of the remaining wind of the storm and stepped out of their marble homes to see what had unfolded during the night.

Strifelon was amongst them. Crooked and bent against the wind he stood, his hunched, lean frame unmoving under his billowing cloak. Treskor and the Council approached him where he stood at the Council doors. His face should have been a mask of smug victory. Instead, it was a face of sadness. Sadness for the human.

They were too stupid to see it.

Now he turned to the massive Treskor, his sadness transformed into an undeniable hatred. "Do you sssee?" he hissed, extending his bony arms outwards. "I wasss right. You ssshould have lissstened." He shambled up to Treskor and stuck his snout against his. "I warned you."

Treskor pushed the older Storkrin away, refusing to admit he was wrong. "The fact that the ssstorm passsed doesss not make you better than thossse who chossse to ignore your wordsss." He hissed back with equal anger.

Strifelon barred his teeth, the anger of long ago battles suddenly calling for him to act now upon this younger fool. "The human now hasss failed." He hissed. "Ssshe did not dessserve sssuch a fate."

Treskor sneered at Strifelon’s compassion. "Embrace her asss you like, old one." He pushed against Strifelons chest. "You are insssane, in any cassse."

Turning his back against the mocking laughter, Strifelon shuffled out across the wetness of his planet and headed for the Ship.

Chi-Chi sighed as she put the last of the china away in the cupboard. Behind her, Gohan worked away at his homework. Outside, her husband stood punching away at invisible enemies. It was the scenario as she had seen it millions of times. Only…now…the phone that hung on her wall beside the fridge would no longer ring at 12:00 afternoon. Bulma would not call her up, talking between unladylike mouthfuls of donuts about her latest invention. It had bothered her so many times before. Only now did she realize how much she missed it.

Bulma.

And Yaumcha, who had become such an alien to everyone he was no longer part of the team, it seemed. She cursed herself silently for the thoughts she had of his beautiful Psychiatrist wooing him with professional office skirts and young lips. She had no right to think such things of a man who lay in the Hospital. A man who had once been so happy and carefree, who had only recently tried to kill himself.

When are you coming back to us?

She found herself wondering, so many times at night, if she was cured or not. She wondered and wondered why it was taking them so long. And that was what worried her. Only the other night, she had taken a blanket and had curled up in the bathtub and cried herself to sleep. Vegeta had said it would only take him at the very most, a week. It had been many weeks and still they had not returned. What was she supposed to think?

It didn’t help that she and Goku were fighting. But it was his fault. He wouldn’t let her cry; told her tears were not needed because Bulma was fine. He didn’t know that. His optimistic attitude was not needed right now. He didn’t know anything.

Neither did she.

Chi-Chi turned and left the room before her son could see her cry.

Bulma knew the answer even before she opened the door.

Strifelon stood on the ships steps, looking worn and tired. Bulma gasped as she saw the expanse of debris that lay out behind him. It was not a wonder that he was tired, having to walk through that.

"It’s…"

He shook his head. "We don’t know that, earthling female." He said gently. "Not yet." He looked up as the dark form of the Prince appeared over her shoulder, Spider at his hip. Strifelon ordinarily would have remarked about the Roctrons, but there were too many thoughts in his head.

"The storm really dealt this Planet a blow…" Vegeta remarked in a strange voice.

Bulma stared out over the red and blackened earth, the scattered trees, the rivers of water running through everything, and abruptly burst into tears. There was no way the Pystrim could have survived it. No way. She put her head in her hands and sobbed helplessly. They were so close…it wasn’t fair!

Strifelon instantly reached out a clawed hand and gently pulled her to him. He had known her but a few days, but he knew her pain as he knew himself. She sobbed freely into his shoulder as he and the Prince shared a knowing look.

This young woman may very well die.

"Do not lossse hope, earthling female." Strifelon said soothingly. "There isss yet a chance. There isss yet a chance."

But there wasn’t, and they all knew it. How could a mere plant have stayed intact where trees could not? Vegeta resisted the urge to slam a good- sized hole through the Ships wall as his body convulsed with anger. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair! Not fair…not when he had just begun to love her. His face darkened, as he remembered why he had never allowed himself to come close to anything. It only brought you pain.

Vegeta listened to her sobs a moment longer before pushing past the two of them. Strifelon whirled on him, grabbing his arm with one hand. "Prince!" he hissed. "Where are you going?"

"I’m going to look for the plant." He said slowly, evenly. His voice was on the very threshold of dangerous anger. Bulma lifted her tear stained face from Strifelon’s shoulder and met Vegetas eyes.

"I’m coming with you." She said, pulling away from the Storkrin. Strifelon wheeled on her. "No!" He said loudly. "You cannot. It isss too dangerousss. The landsss have changed. Too much water." He narrowed his eyes. "The mud hasss become too thin. You could sssink."

"He’s right." Vegeta said. "You stay here. We’ll go."

Bulma shook her head firmly. "I’m coming."

Vegeta lunged at her, his face contorted into a mask of rage. "NO!" he yelled. All through his mind, thoughts of he and Bulma becoming mates were dissipating as quickly as ice in Mexico. It filled him with a sudden, terrible anger that he had not felt since his time on Vegetasei.

But once he saw the wounded look on her face, he stopped. What good was him being angry doing? He wouldn’t let her sink. She knew that. He knew that. Just because the Plant was gone…if it was…didn’t meant he would ever stop protecting her. He would protect her to the end. He lowered his fists and took a breath to calm himself.

"I…I’m sorry." He mumbled, hardly perceptible. "Hurry, then."

Bulma vanished for a moment and reappeared with her jacket. She hurried down the steps, doing up the buttons as she went. Strifelon stood, incredulous, as he watched the two of them as they began walking out across the expanse of red and black mud.

"Wait!" he cried, his voice hoarse. "Do you even know where the Plant liesss?"

"No." Vegeta somehow replied. He wasn’t listening. He was being driven by anger.

Strifelon sloshed through the mud and came up behind them, Spider at his heels. "Then let me accompany you. I know where it liesss."

Bulma turned her face oddly gentle in her time of sorrow. "Please don’t. You’re tired." She said. "Tell us where to go, and we’ll go there. You need to rest."

Strifelon pursed his leathered lips and sighed. "Perhapsss you are right. The plant liesss beyond the cavesss in which you found the Roctornsss. There will be a small clussster of bouldersss. The Plant liesss within their circle."

"Thank you for everything." Bulma said quietly.

"I have not done sssuch a good job." He said regretfully. "I ssshould have protected the Plant myssself."

"You couldn’t have done that, Strifelon." She said gently. "Now please, know that I still thank you. And go back to rest, now."

He looked her straight in the eye. "It may yet be there, Bulma."

She smiled. "That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name."

Strifelon smiled sadly at her back as they turned and set out toward the caves.

* * *

They were indeed a strange party to see marching knee deep through the debris and muck of R’haksin. Storkrins looked up as they walked by in passing, Vegeta often having to stop to rescue Bulma from falls and slips. The mud was terribly hard to walk through, Bulma quickly realized. And only now were her symptoms working up again. The aches in her legs kept shooting up her body with every step she took. She didn’t want to be a burden, but she was beginning to see her mistake in insisting that she come.

Spider was always there beside her when she slipped, her fuzzy savior for when the mud would claim her feet a little too tightly. And he seemed all too proud to do so for her, his tails lashing out in his happy way. It was as though he seemed to sense her sadness and wanted to do everything he could to help her feet better.

"One of your more mature attributes." She said softly. Vegeta turned. "What?" he asked.

"I was talking to Spider." She said quietly. She cried out as she slipped. This time it was the Prince who caught her. But he did not steady her and let her continue on. He lifted her easily into his arms and continued walking, his jaw set, his eyes trained ahead.

"Vegeta…" she started to protest, but he silenced her. "I know you’re starting to feel weak. I can see it in your eyes. We have quite a ways to go, yet. You won’t make it."

"I could…"

"No." he shook his head. "Quit being so stubborn."

"I’m sorry." She wrapped her arms around his broad neck, thankful for the rest. "I didn’t want to be a burden."

"Woman, this is not hard for me." He tried to smile for her, but quickly abandoned the idea. Smiles would not come easily for him right now. He silently thanked Kami for the feel of her warm arms around his neck, though he would never admit it. He didn’t want to loose this feeling.

"What’s going to happen to me?" she whispered suddenly, her face nuzzled into his neck. He could feel the tears as they coursed down her face and dribbled down his collarbone.

"Nothing." He said firmly. "Stop thinking about it."

"I can’t." she protested. "I’m scared."

He supposed there was always a time in a human’s life when they would be scared, or frightened. Yet there were things about the Human race that he did not understand. Such as why they fell in love. It was strange to him that he was beginning to understand these things. Feeling a sudden overwhelming rush of compassion for the weak female in his arms, he hugged her closer and picked up his step. He supposed he did understand two of the Human emotions because he was starting to experience them himself. He was frightened and scared of what they would find when the approached the circle of rocks that held the Psytrim, and he was feeling what he knew must be love for Bulma.

She stirred in his grasp. "Vegeta…?"

"Hn?"

"My body feels numb…"

He swallowed. "It’ll be all right."

"Will you know what to do if it’s not there?" she whispered after a moment.

"Woman…I….I can’t magically fix everything. I can protect you with my strength, and I can save you with my strength…but there is nothing I can do about a flower that may have died." He paused, fighting down the revulsion in his gut. "I won’t lie to you."

She nodded silently into his neck. "That’s more than Yaumcha’s ever done…"

"Then is it good enough?"

She nodded. "It is."

* * *

An hour later, after much strenuous walking and many slips and near falls, Vegeta arrived at the edge of a clearing, facing a small circle of four rocks, with Bulma in his arms and Spider at his side. The poor Roctorn was nearly exhausted, and seeming to understand that they had ended their journey, he flopped down on his stomach with a sigh and was almost instantly asleep.

The rocks were covered by a thick layer of tough looking moss that had not blow off in the storm’s fury. Tiny plants and flowers surrounded the four rocks, growing out at odd angles from beneath them. The gentle wind tousled them around in its spiral like leaves. They whipped back and forth as Vegeta and Bulma both stared at them, wondering what the large boulders hid inside their ring of protection. Hoping against hope.

"Can you stand?" Vegeta asked after the silence had lifted. His voice was surprisingly loud in the clearing. Mud covered his boots and went well past his knees, covering him in a thick brown layer. Bulma nodded and he set her down upon the earth, where she wobbled uncertainly for a few seconds before she managed to right herself.

"Are you ready…?" she whispered. "Do you think…."

She forcefully took Vegeta’s hand in her own and together they walked toward the circle of Boulders, Bulma averting her eyes and fixing them on the ground before her. Vegeta stared ahead with an impressive mask of calmness, but inside he was trembling.

Will it all have been for nothing?

Had they come here all for nothing?

Will I loose this woman?

They stopped at the edge of the Boulders, Bulma gripping his gloved hand tightly in her own, her eyes staring at her feet below her. She took a breath and did not wait for Vegeta to say anything. Summoning her courage clenched her free first and forced herself to look.

Time passed uncertainly as Bulma and Vegeta stood, hand in hand, staring down together at the frayed patch of what used to be the magnificent Psytrim Osis, and what was now nothing more than the torn and shredded remains of a flower. Giant, fat crocodile tears rose into her eyes with a burning ferocity, and she let them trail hot rivers down her cheeks without any restraint. The boulders, which had stood for hundreds of years surrounding the sacred birthplace, had not been able to protect the flower as they had so many times before. They had failed this time, to the savagery of the storm. Bulma’s hand shook in Vegeta’s, who remained calm and tried to look brave for her. Inside, he was dying as much as she was.

Bulma suddenly tore her hand from Vegeta’s grip and lunged at the flowers remains, her hands clawing at the shredded pieces that were the only last memories of what was supposed to be her life. She screamed around a throat full of sobs, choking on her anger as she yelled and hammered pale, weak fists against the crumbling red earth. Vegeta made no move to stop her. He knew well what she was feeling. He had felt it hundreds of times before, and was feeling it now. Tiny yellow pieces of the Psytrim fluttered in the cloud of her fury and were crushed to powder beneath her fists.

She sat back, defeated, on her ankles and stared numbly at the hole that she had hammered into the ground. Deep cuts covered her palms where she had clawed and scratched at the earth, grabbing bits and pieces of tiny rock in her rage. Now she let her hands fall to the earth, limp, and watched as her blood dribbled unnoticed against R’haksins soil.

Vegeta finally came forth and gently picked her up by her arms, pulling her against him. "Sssshhhh…" he said, screaming inside. He allowed her to stand and sob uselessly against his chest. Spider watched with eyes that did not understand what they saw. Inside, Bulma’s mind was defeated. But her body was well on its way to defeat as well, and he felt it through his own. Bulma’s body would not be able to take much more of Fortricres; it was becoming stronger with each passing day. Soon, she would begin to fade.

And then she would die.