A/N: This started out as a drabble on tumblr, but I might as well make it into a small series of drabbles.

The fact that she returned to a sleeping, naked Saiyan Prince was still left her in wonder. But actually, it was no wonder. After spending most of that evening off, in an all night rendezvous under the covers. The aches started to come in later that morning. She was left aching in various places, but it didn't stop her from keeping a grin on her face. As she sipped on her coffee and glanced over the gratuitous curves of the sleeping Saiyan.

She would have left him to sleep in longer, considering the man barely slept at all. He certainly looked blissful too. But he was in her bedroom after all. It wouldn't bode well to let anyone walk in here in said condition. So she took a seat at the edge of her bed and gently dragged her fingers through his unruly mane.

"Wake up, sleepy head," she whispered low. "Wake up my sleepy prince." Slowly, but surely, Vegeta blinked lazily and a simple grunt was his only response. Typical– he couldn't even bid her a good morning. But at least she had a stunning view of his ass. It made up for his disgruntled response. "You need to get up before anyone finds you here."

This must have done him in, because he was immediately on his feet and getting dressed. She left him to his own devices to get through with the rest of the day.

To say that he was embarrassed was an understatement. He prided himself on holding himself back for quite some time now, but that all ended the night before. Weeks and weeks of tension just added to that fire– and she was in the crossfire.

It was out of his control.

It won't happen again, he told himself. Told himself constantly as he made it out of her bedroom, and down the stairs. He told himself as he made it into the kitchen. He told himself repeatedly as he saw her propped up on the counter, sipping on her morning drink. Her hips jutted out and pronounced, just as had her the night before–

"Coffee?" She offered with a small, incline of her head. He rejected it with a shake of his head and went straight to the fridge. She was humming something under her breath now. A song of some sort that he'd heard playing in her hovercraft a couple of times. She was dancing too– her body moving along to the beat of the music. He remembered, too– that he had always prided himself with that kind of restraint. That he obviously had more important things on his mind other than sex. Clearly that wasn't any indication to stop him from lifting the woman into his arms, and onto the clear tile of the counter that she was propped on just moments ago. "Vegeta–!" She stammered, red in the face. He kissed her before she opened that mouth of hers. Those delectable, full lips of hers that hadn't left his conscious in the last twenty-four hours.

He was ready to have her there and then. Desperate, glove-less fingers pulling and tugging at the hem of her shirt while Bulma worked her fingers above the spandex of his pants. To tug them down enough to free him of his confines. The moment was short-lived, however when he heard footsteps approaching.

It was almost as if a storm had just passed through. Bulma was nonchalant as ever as she poured herself another glass of coffee. Still very red in the face. Vegeta in the far end of the kitchen– his hair in complete disarray and his face flushed as he buttered himself a couple of toasts. This is what Dr. Briefs had walked into, and he just couldn't shake up the feeling that something wasn't right. Maybe it was the atmosphere ? Maybe it was because he hadn't seen the two together in the kitchen before? Either way, he brushed it off and poured himself a cup of coffee as well. "Well, Good Morning to you two–"

"Nothing happened here!" Bulma cut in with a shout. "I just came down and grabbed a cup of coffee and he just happened to be in the Kitchen when I came in here!"

"But I wasn't—"

"The woman showed up in the later hours of nine a.m and I was buttering some toast!" Vegeta interjected– there was generous stack of toast there on his plate, which was almost as high as the ceiling.

"I wasn't implying–"

"Geez, dad! Way to assume something like that! As if I wanted to do anything with that man!"

"You don't understand–"

"As if I wanted anything with that woman. Clearly she doesn't have class– and I have other things to worry about!"

And with an indignant huff from both parties, they both took off in opposite directions. Leaving behind a very confused Dr. Briefs alone in the kitchen. He made use of the stack of toast, however, and grabbed a couple of them before he head down to the laboratory.