The reason of that exceptional good mood wasn't the full moon. It was because of a party that would take place in Capsule Corporation in a few days. A great, huge party, with pretty much everybody from school.

Usually she wouldn't organize such a thing. People didn't exactly like her. They admired her, feared her, hated her, but she never really had any friend. But since Yamcha was there, things had strangely gotten better. "Maybe because he makes me so happy and that makes me nicer... I don't know, I don't care!" She smacked a kiss on the young man's cheek for the Hell of it, then shove a strawberry into her mouth.

- What was that kiss for? he asked, slightly blushing.
- Because I love you and I'm happy!
- Allright!

He put his arm around her waist, smiling. He'd spent a little more than two months with her and flirting was way easier now.

- I hope it'll be perfect, sighed Bulma, thoughtful.
- Hm? What?
- The party! And you know, I want to start it with a dance with you.

She wrapped a short piece of his hair around her finger, while her other hand fed her mouth with more of the red berries. Yamcha grinned nervously.

- A dance, huh?
- Yep!
- Great...
- Is there a problem?
- Well hum... I... Can't dance.
- How come?
- Idon'tknowhowto.

Somehow Bulma understood his words and shrugged, still smiling.

- Oh! We still have a couple of days before the party, I can teach you. No problem!

Yamcha smiled, relieved. "I just hope the other girls will leave me alone..." he thought.

- Put your hand on my hip... And I take the other one... Now stop being so red and... One, two, three... One, two, three...

Yamcha did his best to follow his girlfriend, but dancing wasn't natural for him and, confused, he quickly stepped on her foot. The oceanic eyes widened but Bulma stayed calm.

- It's ok. Just pay more attention to your foot.
- Yeah... It's tougher than I thought.
- You can do it! Come on, one, two, three... One, two, three...


A little twenty minutes later, he could finally follow her without stepping on her feet or turning to the wrong side. They danced for a while, Bulma's head now resting on his shoulder. The odor of her shampoo filled Yamcha's lunges and he wondered if she also tasted like strawberries.

- Bulma?
- Hmm?
- Are we going to dance like that at your party?
- No. But it's the classic dance to first teach and it doesn't hurt to know it.

Yamcha sweat dropped, but that dance was nice and it felt good to hold Bulma like this, to have her so happy. He wished it would never end...

They kept dancing for a long moment, close, silent...

- I warn you, Oolon! One bad mood and I throw you onto the Moon!
- Ok, ok... Can I go now?

The perverted gleam was shinning in the pig's eyes, making Bulma sigh deeply. She nodded, grimaced when he shouted "WOOHOOOOO" as running out, and turned to Yamcha and Puar. The tall boy was trying to convince his friend to join the party as well. The little cat was refusing, with obvious sadness inside.

- Listen, Puar. Next week-end, what about we go camping or something like that? Just the two of us!
- ...Bulma won't let you...
- Of course I will! warmly said the purple haired beauty, even before Yamcha's eyes begged her to help. You two share such a great friendship! I don't wanna ruin it!

Puar sighed.

- Fine... But I don't go to that party.
- Ok. Think about what we could do, then. Anything you want!
- Ok!

The cat smiled, obviously feeling much better. Yamcha patted him on the head (Puar reminding him of a little kid so much) and turned his face to Bulma.

- I think we have to dance, now?
- Yep! And if you wanna join us, Puar, feel free to come at anytime!
- Thanks, but I'll go to bed now.

The two humans sweat dropped; it was only eight o'clock or so and the little cat looked terribly serious.

- You bastard! How could you kiss her thinking it was me?!
- But... Honey...
- HA! You're drunk!!

The slap sent the drunk guy into the wall, the girl left, fuming with rage.

Bulma laughed, held onto Yamcha's arm. It remembered her of the shopping-for-school-stuff day she'd spent with him, weeks ago. That night, the memory of it was just hilarious. It was such a great night. She felt her boyfriend's arm holding her waist more tightly than usual and grinned. He'd drunk... maybe his phobia was totally gone now...

- Hmm... I'll be right back, darling...

With a sorry smile, she left his embrace and ran to the bathroom. Yamcha wasn't the only one to have drunk...


When she came back into the party, she didn't find her boyfriend where she'd left him. Perplex, she looked around. Couples dancing, guys hitting on girls, guys hitting guys... But no trace of Yamcha. She frowned, scanned the moving crowed carefully. He couldn't have left like this!

Finally she saw him. He was dancing.

With an atrociously sexy blond girl.

With another girl.

- YAMCHA!!

He only had the time to turn his face in her direction before her fist hit him.

A big hole was made in the wall a few seconds later, as Yamcha flew through it.

Everyone shut up, immobilized in order to not miss a thing of the fight. Whispers though spread when Yamcha got up, only a little shocked, and walked toward his furious love, guilty and sorry looking.

- She asked me to dance with her while you were gone... I wasn't...
- SHUT UP!! I know what I've seen! You were drooling over her silicone, bastard!

Yamcha's dark eyes widened, he dangerously paled.

- But... It's not that... You know I...
- Oooh! That's too easy, Yamcha! Go to Hell with your phobia!

She spat at his feet and ran away so no one would see her tears. Yamcha stared blankly at the door closing behind her. "But... She... She never believe me..." When he noticed all eyes were on him, he turned to a remarkable shade of red and quickly left the room.

After a moment, the party just continued as if nothing had happened.

Bulma couldn't breath with her pillow pressed against her face like that, but if she'd put it away she'd start crying and wouldn't breath much better anyway.

"That bastard! How could he..." She pictured him again, the hands on the way-too-thin waist of the buxom blond, laughing at whatever she'd just said... "I'm supposed to be the only one he can touch like that!" Finally she couldn't hold back anymore. She threw the pillow away, bursted into tears. "Dammit, Yamcha! I trusted you!"

Yamcha felt sick. When that girl had asked him to dance while waiting Bulma's return, he allready felt bad, having this twisted feeling in his stomach with the usual panic toward women. But he told himself it wouldn't hurt anyone... It was also a way so heal from his phobia. And that girl did seem nice. So he'd accepted. It had surprised him that after only a few minutes, he felt much better. The twisted thing was only growing though and when Bulma had yelled his name, it had exploded within him.

Now he was outside, rubbing his temples. Flying through a wall gives you one big headache. Being yelled at by Bulma Brief gives you a headache from hell. You can imagine how Yamcha felt, especially that the beer he'd drunk was also contributing to it.

"Gee, Bulma... I thought you knew I love you..."

The next day, a Sunday, they didn't talk to each other. Bulma spent her time in her lab and a few explosions were heard. Yamcha trained most of the day, harder than ever, only taking a break when he was about to lose consciousness. Puar assisted him, worry but not daring to ask anything. His friend seemed (no, was) hurt, and anger had grown during the night.

"She shouldn't get mad at me!"

BANG! He waited for the punching bag to come back.

"I was only dancing!"

SBAH!! A seam cracked, but he threw another powerful punch.

"She has to trust me!"

The punching bag suddenly opened and its content fell onto Yamcha. Surprised, he fell on his butt, cursing through his teeth.,

His fist hit the floor. "Bulma! Why do you make it so hard?!" He shut his eyes closed, not want Puar to see the tears that were filling them.

- Bulma? You have to talk with Yamcha!
- Oh, come on, Puar. I don't talk to that kind of jerks.
- But you know he wasn't cheating on you at all! He loves you... And he's very affected but your... Hum... Attitude.

Bulma sighed, posed her tool on the table. She knew Puar was right. Once again she'd over reacted and said things she didn't really think. She had to apologize, to tell him he hadn't done anything wrong...

- Ok, Puar, I'll do it. Where is he?
- Right now? In the shower.

Yamcha wrapped a towel around his waist, then returned to his bedroom. He was still tensed from his fight with Bulma, even a warm shower didn't help.

His eyes widened as he entered the room.

Bulma was sitting on his bed.

He was so surprised he dropped the towel.

Bulma's eyes grew bigger than his, but he was still redder than she got herself, even coming close to the violet.

He turned around, picked up the towel and quickly covered himself. "Just a pay back," he thought, remembering when he'd seen her in the shower... He reddened some more.

- Yamcha...

She put her fresh hands on his back, causing him to shiver.

- I'm sorry... I know you would never...

He faced her, put a finger on her lips.

- I'd like you to trust me, Bulma, he said sadly.
- I swear I will from now on! I won't react like that anymore...

He smiled, her heart melted. He was so nice, always forgetting and understanding... A tear of joy trickled on her cheek as they kissed.

- By the way, she whispered in his ear before she left, you're incredibly sexy with that towel... And without it...

Yamcha thought his head would explode because of all the blood that immediately rushed to his face.


Chapter 5
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