I do not own Dragon Ball Z.

One-shot. I actually started writing this a year ago but I never got the chance to complete it until yesterday haha. Or rather, I forgot about it until I came across it yesterday. Please enjoy :)

He was driving her crazy. She had to release some of this pent-up frustration before she exploded. And if she exploded, Vegeta would be the first person she would kill. He may have been a Saiyan but she doubted his capacity to withstand the intrusion of a blade in his chest.

Bulma rubbed her hands together gleefully, an evil grin twisting her mouth. She knew her current state of mind had only been born after the Saiyan Prince had come to live with her family. She wasn't usually this bloodthirsty but the man was understandably driving her insane. If he wasn't breaking the gravity machine her father had generously built for him to train in, he was eating all of their food at an improbable rate, or lording his status over them while he treated them as his servants.

Bulma's teeth scraped together painfully as she remembered a previous conversation of theirs…

Beginning of flashback

Vegeta walked into the kitchen where Bulma was enjoying a quiet lunch of a roast turkey and avocado sandwich with a tall glass of fresh pomegranate juice. She barely acknowledged him, even when he came to stand right behind her, obviously having no compunction about invading her personal space. She tied to ignore him as much as she could, munching away happily on her sandwich. She could feel him growing angrier by the second, his irateness a tangible thing, at being blatantly ignored.

Sighing, Bulma swallowed her mouthful of food and took a long sip of her juice. If she ignored him any longer he'd probably put a hole through their roof. Taking a deep breath she schooled her features into a neutral expression…and took another deep breath. There was something distinct in the air that was suddenly tying her stomach in knots, and without even thinking about it she knew exactly where it was coming from. Or from whom. Vegeta's scent could only be described as being completely masculine. Heat swept through her, making her uncomfortable. Sweat beaded on her brow. She took another breath. God, he smelled delicious. Her body seemed to be reacting to the masculinity of his. Why, she groaned, why now?

"Woman," he said harshly, his voice a low, deep growl.

Bulma started badly, whipping around to face him with a guilty look on her face, her heart pounding away madly. Vegeta either didn't see the blush staining her cheeks or he ignored it. She was going for the latter, for which she was grateful. The last thing she needed was for him to tease her mercilessly about it.

"What…what is it?" she asked, drawing in a shaky breath. Immediately his scent assailed her again and she bit back a curse.

"I am hungry. Stop being idle and make me some food," he said, eyebrows slashing down into a harsh frown.

Bulma gaped at him as he walked away. Minutes later she heard the door to his room slam shut. She was still gaping five minutes later. Then anger set in. How dare he order her around like she was his servant? Without her he'd have nowhere to go, nowhere to live, nowhere to damn well train. Without her he'd be nothing!

Bulma calmly turned back to her sandwich and continued to thoughtfully munch on it. Vegeta's high and mighty attitude was getting worse every day. If she didn't put a stop to it soon he'd probably have her fanning him with a palm leaf as he lounged by the pool. The image of him in nothing but black spandex shorts that left nothing to the imagination, stretching out along the deck chair like a dangerous predator made her cheeks heat again. She cursed softly.

No, she would never let things go that far. The stirrings of an idea had her slowing her chewing so that when Vegeta walked in fifteen minutes later she was still staring into space. Bulma jerked to the present when he slammed his fist against the counter. The glare on his face was murderous.

"Where is my food, woman?" he snapped.

Bulma raised an eyebrow then stood, smoothing out the wrinkles on her sleeveless teal top.

"Sit down, Vegeta," she said, almost conversationally.

Ignoring the suspicious look on his face she shoved him toward a stool. She kept her eyes on him until he muttered something and sat down.

"Look, Vegeta, we have a problem. Ever since we've taken you in you've been rude, arrogant, sarcastic, spiteful, selfish, egotistical, and the list goes on. I could stand here for the rest of the afternoon listing all your faults."

Vegeta's glare became more murderous, if that was even possible.

"I would rather you didn't," he snarled stiffly. "Now get to the point. I don't have time to sit and talk to you. Or rather, I don't want to."

Bulma ignored the deliberate attempt to make her stomp away from him.

"As I was saying," she continued. "We have a problem. I think it's time we set some ground rules."

Vegeta crossed his arms on the counter and leaned forward, grinning evilly. "I thought we already had a set of ground rules; whatever I want you to do for me, you do it."

Bulma struggled to hold onto her temper. Why must he be such a provoking little weasel?

"That's not what I meant," she retorted, glaring at him. "I meant it's time to give you chores to do. It's time you gave something back to this family."

The look on his face was priceless. He was gaping at her and she let out a smug smile for having at last rendered the prince speechless.

"Don't be absurd," he said in a tight voice, leaning back again. "I don't do chores."

"You will if you want to continue leeching off us."

Vegeta's temper snapped and he was on his feet.

"I will not cave in to your demands, you little brat," he shouted, banging his fist on the counter. "Do I look like a weaker being who would jump to do your bidding?"

Bulma's jaw dropped. "You hypocrite! Here you are refusing to even hear me out properly and yet you get angry when I don't do as you ask. You tell me how that's fair, Vegeta."

She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. Why was he being such a stubborn dunce? Sure, she should have expected it and prepared accordingly for his reactions, but did he have to be such a total asshole? She supposed she had been pushing it. What else had she expected from the spoilt prince?

Vegeta had the gall to smirk. "Fair doesn't come into it. I am a prince, you are a servant. What more is there to it?"

Bulma had to clench her hands into fists to stop from physically lashing out at him. He wanted to talk status did he? She'd tell him something about status, all right.

"Listen here, and listen well. You may be a prince, Vegeta, but that is with regards to your own planet. Here on earth, do you know what your status means? Nothing. It means absolutely nothing. So do us all a favour and stop acting like an insensitive jerk because here on earth, you're just another ordinary person."

Bulma was breathing heavily, she was so angry. She could see a muscle tick at his temple. He was strangely quiet and unease filtered through her. He was never quiet. The man always had something to say. Just then she was sure he was going to blast her with his ki. She unconsciously braced herself, terrified that she'd gone too far. To her surprise, though, he just turned around and walked away from her.

End of flashback

Ever since that day Vegeta had been acting more arrogant, more lordly, and more annoying. She noticed he went out of his way to be especially antagonising toward her. Even if she had a chance to do over that day she'd still have had that conversation with him. It needed to be said. She knew he knew she was in the right and he had no other way of acting out, like the spoilt prince he was.

But he was very close to driving her out of her home. And that's why she found herself signing up for a kickboxing class. She had been a bit reluctant to join but thinking about going home and facing Vegeta's wicked tongue had had her lurching through the doors.

"Focus, Bulma," her personal trainer said, holding the sandbag in front of her. "Your mind seems to be elsewhere today."

"I'm sorry," Bulma said a little contritely. She stretched her neck from one side to the other before bringing her fists up in front of her. She bounced on the balls of her feet before snapping her leg up and kicking the sandbag with everything she had.

"Very good," the trainer said, nodding her head in approval. "You're improving."

It had taken a week for the blows to stop hurting her, and another week until she could actually move the sandbag with her kicks and occasional punches. It had done wonders for her aggression. She was now much calmer around Vegeta and whenever he was being deliberately provocative she came here and imagined it was his face she was kicking the hell out of.

Bulma knew he was getting more and more annoyed at her lack of responses and had taken it upon himself to even more infuriating. On occasion she even found him staring at her for short periods of time with a deep look on concentration on his face. When she'd caught his gaze his glare came back and he stomped away.

"Keep practising, Bulma," the trainer said. "I will be right back."

Bulma bounced on her feet again, this time spinning around and snapping her leg up in the other direction. Too late she registered the person standing in front of her. She couldn't stop her kick. If it had been an ordinary person she probably would have broken his nose, or worse. As it turned out she was even more surprised to see Vegeta standing there, and it wasn't all that surprising when he caught her ankle before she kicked his face, his fingers tight bands of steel.

"So this is where you've been disappearing to all these weeks," he said.

Bulma knew they must look ridiculous, she with her leg in the air and he holding it up. She tried tugging but he wouldn't let go.

"Vegeta, let go," she said, worry gnawing her. He looked so solemn. Insulted almost.

"No."

"Let go! And what are you doing here anyway?"

"I searched for your ki."

As soon as he said it his mouth clamped shut and his cheeks became a faint red. Bulma gaped at him. Was he for real? Did he really just admit that?

"Why would you do that?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Vegeta looked increasingly uncomfortable by the second and he looked like he wasn't going to answer.

"Why, Vegeta?" she questioned forcefully. "You've done nothing but shower me with contempt so I'd like to know why you searched for me."

By now a blush was staining his cheeks.

"Vegeta…" Bulma's voice held a warning note.

"Dammit, woman, do I have to spell it out for you? Being contemptible without you around to react accordingly is no fun."

Bulma blinked. Then she blinked again. A slow grin spread across her face. Was he saying that he liked having her around? Abruptly he released her leg and she stumbled back against the sandbag.

"I shouldn't have come. I will leave you alone as you wish, woman," Vegeta said, turning to go.

"Wait," Bulma said."

"You were right," he added quietly, his back to her.

She paused, unsure what to expect from him.

"What was I right about?" she prompted quietly.

"That my status means nothing here on earth."

Guilt hit her. She'd been angry when she'd said that. Had she actually hurt the cold-hearted prince?

"Vegeta, I didn't –"

"It doesn't matter. When Frieza destroyed my home planet he took everything away from me. I had nothing. Except what he deigned to give me, which wasn't much. Every chance he got he tried to break me. He became furious when he couldn't. Do you know what kept me going, woman? It was the fact that I was the prince of a legendary race of warriors. Remembering that made me get up every time he knocked me down. Believing that made me survive those hellish years he stole from me. I may shove it in your face at every opportunity, but that's because my status is the only thing I have left in this universe that is mine alone."

He didn't even wait for her to respond or even absorb what he had said. He just walked out, leaving her feeling like the lowest sort of worm on the earth. Her heart ached for the pain she had heard in his voice, for the slight tremor in his words he probably hoped she hadn't picked up on. She took a step forward to go after him when her personal trainer returned.

Bulma stared after his retreating back, noticing the way his muscles were tensed up. She had no idea how to cheer him up and not for lack of trying. It was the first time she actually wanted to do the honourable deed. A blush heated her cheeks. Of all the people in the world she had thought would get the upper hand on her Vegeta hadn't even made the list. She was chagrined to admit she didn't think him capable of it. But he had proved her wrong. And for some reason that…excited her?

"Bulma, pay attention please," her trainer scolded.

She returned to her training, her mind working furiously on how she could make it up to the Saiyan Prince. Maybe she could add in some new modifications to the GM. He would like that, wouldn't he? Hmm…

Bulma returned home later that afternoon with a plan in mind. After a hot shower she approached her father to discuss the modifications she had in mind. He agreed with her wholeheartedly which made her proud of the things she had just thought up. He agreed that Vegeta would love them and that made colour bloom in her cheeks, which she was aware did not escape her father's notice.

She bounded out of the house excitedly, unable to wait to let Vegeta know about her ideas. The door to the GM was open and she trekked up the ramp and into the machine. Silence greeted her and she peered around eagerly. She called Vegeta's name repeatedly, each time in a slightly more annoyed tone than the one before until she was shouting his name in anger. Furious at ignoring her she leaned back against the GM wall to wait for his return, arms crossed over her chest.

Bulma had no idea how long she waited for. The bright sunshine casting light into the open door of the GM gradually faded to a burnt orange. She stared listlessly at the floor, worry starting to nag her. Where was he? This was so unlike him, disappearing for hours without letting her family know where he would be.

And then she heard footsteps coming up the ramp. Hope flared in her eyes as she stared at the door and when Vegeta stepped in her eyes devoured him hungrily. He stared back at her, vulnerability in his eyes for a split second before disappearing behind a mask of indifference. He looked away and continued into the GM. Bulma got to her feet and stepped toward him, hesitantly.

"Where were you?" she questioned softly.

"I was out," he replied shortly.

"Where to? And why didn't you tell me? I was worried." The admission slipped out before she could stop it. She saw the way Vegeta's shoulders tensed and bit her lip. This was so not going the way she had wanted it to go.

"I didn't realise I had to report my every move to you. You are neither my girlfriend nor my wife," he said in a low voice, turning to face her. "Leave me alone. I wish to train."

"I'm not going anywhere," Bulma said, shaking her head. "I came here to specifically tell you something. And I won't go until I have said what I came here to say."

"Then spit it out already. You're wasting my time, time I could spend – "

"Training, yes, I know," she said, rolling her eyes. She took a deep breath. "I told my father about some new modifications I'd like to add to the GM. I think you'd like them very much." She proceeded to explain what she wanted to add and watched the wonder in his eyes grow until she felt her heart start to flutter in excitement. When she was done he stared at her, dumbfounded.

"You know, this is the part where you should say 'thank you'," Bulma chuckled, pleased by the look on his face.

It was a while longer before he could string together a sentence. "Why would you do something like that for me?" he questioned roughly.

It was not what she had expected from him and she shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. I just felt like doing something for you." She avoided his searching eyes.

Without warning she found her back slammed against the GM wall and she jerked her head up with a gasp. Vegeta had her pinned against the wall, both his palms flat against the wall on either side of her head. Fire blazed in his eyes, an emotion that wrung forth an answering call from her body.

"If you are doing this just because you pity me, I will make you regret it, woman," he growled.

"I don't pity you," she burst out, confused at why he would jump to such an outlandish accusation. Although thinking about the situation it wasn't all that hard to arrive at such a conclusion. She winced at what he must think of her and wondered why she could never get anything right with this man.

"Then why? I will not let you go until you tell me," Vegeta said in a low voice.

"It's not pity I feel," she admitted. "It's something else. I think."

He frowned, eyes narrowing to slits. He balled a hand into a fist and slammed it against the wall beside her head with a harsh growl. He bent his head, his shoulders heaving slowly. "You need to run from me, Bulma," he said, his voice dropping another octave. "You need to run right now if you don't want to suffer the consequences."

Bulma had never wanted anything more in her life. She wouldn't run from him. For some reason she didn't completely understand she trusted him, and she knew he wouldn't hurt her, no matter how vile his temper turned. It was an instinct more primal than anything she had ever felt. And it was beginning to slowly consume her.

She reached for him and cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his, a soft butterfly kiss. Something inside of her was beginning to unravel, to take control of her, and she gladly let it. She didn't know when she had begun to care for the temperamental Saiyan but it was too late to turn back now, too late to deny those feelings.

She leaned back and smiled at him, her thumbs lightly stroking his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere, Saiyan," she murmured, a teasing note in her tone. "So I suggest you get used to it."

She couldn't tell what emotion quickly flitted through his eyes but in the next second he had slammed his mouth against hers and the contentment she felt that it was him kissing her was more than she had ever expected to feel. Who would have ever thought the proud Saiyan Prince would be brought down to his knees by a human woman?

The future

Trunks had been feeling ill for days. He suspected he knew what was causing his current ailment. He cursed and tried to get out of bed. These days it was getting harder and harder to move around a lot. His mother was worried on the border of hysterical and yet he couldn't tell her that his problem might be because her younger self hadn't yet conceived him. He could feel his body becoming lighter and lighter, on the verge of becoming non-existent and wondered if Goku had said something to his parents to make them not get together when they were meant to.

He shook his head. No, he had only met Goku once but he trusted the man more than anything. The praise his mother used to sing about him was legendary, and he wouldn't doubt the word of the man when he had given it to him with the best of confidence. He stumbled to the window and slid it open. It was a beautiful day and he was loathed to be inside. He knew his mother would freak out if she found him gone but he still climbed out the window and fell to the ground.

Trunks picked himself up and began the slow trek to the open field that bordered the town. It was the best spot in this age and his favourite place to be, away from the destruction of the city, away from the screams of horror echoing through deserted buildings. After what felt like hours he collapsed on the grassy ground lying like a soft blanket beneath him. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, an inner peace coming over him he hadn't felt in a while. He supposed he should have been prepared for the possibility that his parents would never get together, even long enough to conceive him. Still, it was the future set in stone so he hadn't thought he needed to worry about that possibility. He began to slip into unconsciousness as a dizzy spell hit him and he groaned, the sound a mere whisper.

Until his body began to tingle. He frowned, wondering whether this was it and he would never open his eyes again. And then something started to happen. It wasn't a gradual change. It hit him full force, the energy that had been moderately escaping him rejuvenating his body. He opened his eyes with a gasp, feeling everything at the same time. He could unmistakably feel his cells regenerating themselves all over his body, animation shooting through his nerves like electricity. Power flowed through him with the force of an explosion, bulking up depleting muscle and sinew.

As quickly as it had started it was over.

He slowly got to his feet, flexing his hands and legs, unsure about what had just happened. He shrugged his shoulders back and called on his ki, letting it light up his hand. He stared at it for a while, not understanding what had just happened. And then he knew.

Trunks looked up at the cloudless sea of blue and let the corners of his mouth tip up into a grin. His smile hid a secret only he knew.

:)