Author's Notes: Definitely had fun writing this. SUPER fluffy and cheesy; but dude, tis Christmas, I am allowed. :3

Probably (OK, definitely) out of character, but please allow for a timeline where Bulma and Vegeta are lovers already, after a period of about 5 years. Vegeta still has his people, they're not dead yet, and he has hope of reclaiming them. He also grew up "normally", not under Frieza's thumb, so not quite so volatile.

Hope you all enjoy, as much as I wrote! And if you haven't heard of "Gift of the Magi" enjoy the story as new or 1) read the short story by O. Henry, and more importantly, 2) listen to the song "Gift of the Magi" by "Squirrel Nut Zippers". It's one of my favorite short romance stories.

Vegeta silently landed upon the Namekian blue grass, watching the female he had come to regard fondly as she worked on dirtied hands and knees in her vegetable garden. He folded his arms over his armored chest, smirking as she continued oblivious to his appearance. She was a weak demi-Saiyan, blue of hair and eyes, evidence of her half-Tuffle heritage; but let anyone say she was useless and they would find themselves at the end of Vegeta's sword.

He thought it funny, his regard for her, because Bulma, this weak Saiyan-Tuffle woman, had never really been on Vegeta's radar until recently. He walked closer, making his presence known. She looked up, dirt on her nose and cheek, and smiled at him. He smiled back. "Where is my dinner, woman?" She frowned, but he continued smirking and teasing her, "A prince is a very busy man, with very little time to take care of himself. I expect food and..." Dirt thrown into his face stopped his drivel. Laughing as he wiped the soil away, he regarded her with a somewhat fond smile. He could only imagine what she would have screamed at him had she the chance, and could even hear her voice in his head, as he read her lips mouthing off at him. The first time he had ever seen her, she was screaming like a hell-beast being dragged along by his father's men.

"Unhand me! Don't you know who I am? I am Bulma Briefs! Professor Briefs is my father, wait till he hears about...!"

"He will hear nothing." King Vegeta coldly interrupted. "Tear out her vocal chords," he addressed the guards, "I don't need to hear her to enjoy her."

"NO! No! You can't do this...!" Palace guards dragged the kicking and screaming former free scientist away, obscenities fading from hearing the further they were.

That was all Vegeta knew of her for years before things on their home planet went to hell in a hand basket. She brought him back to the present, walking up to him, wiping her hands on her dirty cargo pants, not really successful at cleaning anything, before smacking his chest in annoyance. He grabbed around her waist, bringing her head closer and kissing her breathlessly. When they parted, he stroked her cheek, her jaw, and her throat, where thin silver scars ran where the palace doctor had done his work all those years ago. What was it? Fifteen years since her initial abduction and placement into his father's harem? She had suffered, but thrived in the end; a true Saiyan woman.

He felt her swallow, still uncomfortable with him touching her throat scars even after five years they've been on this planet, since he placed her under his protection. He removed his hand from her throat, but she quickly grabbed at his wrist, smiling softly at him as she walked him into their humble Namekian home. He smelled seafood upon walking indoors, and he turned to her in surprise. She blushed, not looking at him as she took his bare sword from his hip and placed it in its proper place by the door; naked steel proudly displayed on the highest set of pegs set there for the purpose of holding weaponry.

The sword had belonged to his father before him, and had taken down many adversaries. King Vegeta met his end at the hand of the invader, Frieza, and it was his older son who had found him dead, clutching at his sword. Prince Vegeta had only time to grab the sword, and say a final farewell to a father he hardly respected, than he had fled on the advice of General Kakarot to regroup and plan. He had no regrets about leaving the scabbard behind; it fit his father's gaudy tastes more than his own sensible ones.

Shoving the memories away, Vegeta glanced at Bluma again, smirking at her with joy at her current domesticated mood. She hated anything to do with cooking, or cleaning, or "taking care of her man"; but when she was feeling sentimental, every few months or so, she would surprise him with his favorite meal (well, with what they could find on Namek, anyway). She must be feeling the emotional warmth of the upcoming Solstice just as he was. With the new traditions they were finding on this new planet, especially the Namekian "Solstice Holiday", Vegeta had recently been feeling the need to give her something to show his... affection for her.

While he sat at the table, enjoying his alien sushi, he had her seated on his lap, one hand running fingers through her waist length hair while the other hand would feed her too, of his meal. Saiyans didn't normally share their food, unless with close friends or loved ones. It was a fairly new development in their relationship, but then everything about their relationship dragged at a snail's pace. Once Bulma had gotten over her hesitance in being with her former tormentor's son, and that did not happen in a day either, she had since then been happy, receptive and eager for each and every milestone in their relationship. He, however, was the one that held things back; refraining from sharing the same roof, the same bed for sleep, refusing to hold her hand in public, from teasing her, sharing food, baring his weaknesses; all that and more he had held back for as long as he could. And still they had not officially mated...

Bulma was the one that did everything meaningful, while all he truly offered was protection and sex. Ever since Major Raditz had found the blue haired stowaway upon their crashed ship, five years ago as they accidentally landed on Namek, Bulma had been indispensable to their cause, to their livelihood. Being smart enough to escape the palace and find her way to the correct ship into space was enough of a sign to show her tenacity and foresight, everything since was a bonus. Their irreparable ship had been repurposed: ship walls, tech, and wiring turned into generators, machines, controls for temperatures, water maintenance, and even a gravity chamber, all these she regularly upgraded. And she had plans for more!

He wondered what it was that kept her with him rather than, perhaps say, Raditz? The subordinate is fairly good looking, and, Vegeta had gathered, a decent romantic. Perhaps she went with the strongest? After all, Vegeta is her best chance, after Kakarot, and the buffoon was her childhood friend, besides! Vegeta guesses he should count himself lucky that Kakarot was already mated and had a family of his own.

The woman wrapped her arms around his waist, and he looked down to see her eyes closed and a smile playing on her lips. Whatever her reasons initially, she was no doubt happy to still be with him now. He shouldn't question too much, it was foolish when he had more things to worry about, like gaining an army and ships to take back what was his. The Namekians offered their help, so he was halfway there, but the transportation was elusive; Namekian technology was medieval, at best, stone age at worst. Still, as he brushed back some hair from her cheek, he thought the upcoming Solstice was the perfect opportunity to pause from his everyday worries, and take time to profess his appreciation of her.

Next Time: Bulma's turn to contemplate the upcoming Solstice.

Final Note: The story is finished, and I plan to update every other day or so. Short story, so it should be finished before Christmas.