"Okay, sweetie. Let's try another one. Which shape is the blue octagon?"
Trunks scrutinized all the shapes with a look of concentration on his face that was beyond his young age. Finally, after a few seconds, he pointed to the blue octagon. Bulma smiled brightly at him, "That's right! What a smart boy!…Then again, you do have me for a mother," she added, her smile turning a little smug. "Now, which one is the red hexagon?"
Dressed in a white tank top and dark blue jeans, Vegeta was descending the staircase with the intention of getting something to eat when he heard this exchange. The prince raised an eyebrow in curiosity, slowing down as he looked over at them. Bulma was sitting on the sofa, and Trunks was standing in front of her as she showed him different pages with all kinds of colorful shapes. Neither of them noticed him, and for a moment, he contemplated turning around and heading back the way he came.
He had started coming around a little bit more since Trunks' party a couple of weeks ago and the night with Bulma afterwards. He joined them regularly for meals now, even though he ate in silence, despite the woman's incessant (and highly annoying) efforts to get him to converse about the stupidest topics (what the hell was up with humans fussing over the goddamned weather every single day?). Eventually, she would finally get the hint and leave him in peace, turning her attention to Trunks. Vegeta would watch them interact, subtly paying both of them much more attention than Bulma would ever know.
He observed them now with that same subtle scrutiny as he stood on the steps. Trunks was focused and doing well with Bulma's little lesson. His blue eyes would light up with excitement and pride when Bulma would smile and encourage him after every right answer. He would clap happily, applauding himself, before focusing again when she gave him a new shape to find.
Not for the first time, Vegeta felt like he didn't belong in this picture. He uncomfortably glanced back up the stairs, contemplating just how hungry he really was, when Trunks finally noticed him. The little boy immediately ducked his head, burying his face shyly against Bulma's knees. The heiress gave him a confused look, before looking over and noticing the prince behind them on the stairs.
"Hey stranger," Bulma told him in that sort-of-friendly, sort-of-flirtatious way of hers, giving him a small smile. Vegeta frowned at her, staying silent. Bulma turned back to Trunks and ruffled his light lavender hair affectionately. "Oh, stop being silly, Trunks. Daddy isn't the big, bad boogeyman."
"…Boogeyman?" Vegeta asked, raising an eyebrow in mild confusion as he turned and walked down the rest of the stairs.
"Yeah, it's a made-up monster that scares kids," Bulma laughed, peeling Trunks off her legs.
"More human stupidity. Color me not surprised," Vegeta said dryly. He crossed his arms and watched as Trunks gave Bulma his arms, silently asking her to pick him up. Bulma did, scooping him up into her lap. Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes. "Woman, stop coddling that child already. You are spoiling him rotten."
"What? I am not!" Bulma huffed defensively, looking down at Trunks who threw a mean-looking scowl at Vegeta. The prince returned the look with the additional harshness gained from over thirty years of practice, baring his teeth for good measure. Trunks whimpered and instantly buried his face in Bulma's shirt, making the heiress shoot her son's father a glare. "Vegeta, you jerk! You're scaring him!"
"The brat is soft," Vegeta scoffed in disgust. "Look at him. So frail and weak. He can barely do anything for himself."
"Um, hello, Earth to Vegeta! He's a baby! What do you want, him to be a Super Saiyan already so he could spar with you?" Bulma asked him in exasperation. Trunks shyly peeked out just enough to look at his father out of the corner of his eye.
"Hn." Vegeta walked off towards the kitchen without giving either of them another look. He paused briefly just before he went in, turning his head to address her. "I will get something to eat, and then I will take him out back and start training him. Make sure the boy is ready."
Bulma sighed as he disappeared into the kitchen, before looking down at her son. She rubbed his back a little. Trunks looked up at her quizzically.
"Looks like you're going to spend some time with your cranky Daddy today," she told him with a small smile, deep down happy at the thought. Trunks stared blankly at her, before pointing in the direction Vegeta had walked off in. Bulma nodded, her smile growing. "Yep, that's Daddy. He might look all mean and scary, but he's not. He's all bark, and no bite," she said teasingly.
"I heard that," a rough voice growled from the kitchen. "And I have plenty of bite, woman. Bet on it."
Bulma rolled her eyes, before whispering to Trunks, "Come on you, let's get you changed so he won't have an aneurysm if he has to wait…"
Vegeta was eating one of Bunny's ready-made meals for him in silence while he leaned up against the counter, contemplating what he could actually show a boy as young as Trunks, when Bulma walked in with the little boy. Trunks was walking in front of her, dressed in jean overalls, a white t-shirt, and brand new white gym shoes.
"So you'll take care of him while I get some work done?" Bulma asked as Vegeta finished up the last of his food. He turned and headed towards the sink with a grunt.
"I will train the boy, not take care of him," he sneered in disgust, putting his plate in the sink.
"Right, sure, anyways," Bulma said, ignoring what he said as she put a baby blue diaper bag on the kitchen table. She immediately started digging through it, pulling out the first item to show Vegeta. "I have this walkie talkie here. You can radio me if you need anything, okay? I'll be in my office but I'll have the other end ready. Or if my mom's back by then, she can help you. Now, Trunks usually takes a juice bottle in about an hour, though maybe you can make it water if you have him doing a lot. He already took his nap so he should be okay. I changed him already, but I have some spare clothes here…"
She kept going, but Vegeta zoned out. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, deep down wondering if this was such a good idea. Maybe the boy really was too young. He frowned; it was too late now. He couldn't back out after saying he would do this. He watched as Bulma showed him a bottle of some kind of ointment, trying his best not to feel overwhelmed. There was seemingly no end to the shit that was inside that blue bag.
Vegeta looked over at his son who was clinging tightly to Bulma's jeans. The boy was such a small thing. How could he require so much?
"Alright, I think that's it!" Bulma said happily, closing up the diaper bag. Vegeta was massaging one of his temples with a scowl on his face as she pushed the bag towards him. He mumbled some colorful curses under his breath, before walking over and grabbing the bag. He had zero intention of even opening it, but he didn't want to hear the woman bitching at him over something so trivial. The prince headed over to the door that led to the backyard, before turning back to face them, his gaze dropping to his son.
"Let's go, boy," he ordered gruffly.
Trunks made no move to obey. Bulma bent down and gently started peeling her son's little hands off her jeans.
"It's okay, baby," she told him with a reassuring smile. "Don't you want to spend some time with Daddy?"
"No," Trunks whimpered. Vegeta shifted his weight, looking away.
"But Daddy's going to show you how to be big and strong just like him," Bulma said, finally freeing her jeans from his tight grip. She steered Trunks gently but firmly so he was facing Vegeta, and tried pushing him forward. Trunks was remarkably strong for his age though, and he remained rooted to the spot. Bulma pushed him a little harder, but Trunks leaned back on his heels, refusing to budge.
"No, Mama," Trunks whined. Vegeta's eye was twitching rhythmically by this point. He reached up and rubbed at it, and was about to concede that Trunks was too young anyways so he could get away from this extremely awkward scene, but Bulma cut in first.
"Now that is enough, Trunks," Bulma finally said in a firm tone. She scooped him up, and he immediately burst into tears. Vegeta raised an eyebrow as she carried him, crying and all, over towards him. The prince tensed, hoping that she wasn't about to make him actually hold their son. He awkwardly moved out of the way, but Bulma just walked past him and took Trunks outside. Vegeta was relieved, but not by much as he slowly followed them.
Bulma lowered Trunks and sat him down on the grass. He raised his little fists to his eyes and continued bawling. He didn't want to be left alone with Vegeta. He could handle his presence when his mother was nearby, but his father terrified him. Bulma straightened and put her hands on her waist, looking down at him as Vegeta came up next to her.
"Make him stop that racket, woman," Vegeta ordered, scowling at the boy who was crying his eyes out.
"You make him stop," Bulma shot back at him, frowning at the prince. "You just had to go and scare him. This is why you shouldn't do that, so now you're just going to have to deal with it."
"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do with a screaming child?" Vegeta shot back at her.
"Look," Bulma said, poking him on his chest. She leaned in close to him, both of them glaring at each other. "The only way I can get him to stop crying is by taking him back inside, and that's not going to solve the problem. Trunks has to get over this thing he has around you, and the only way for him to do that is to spend time with you."
Bulma and Vegeta both stared at each other for a few tense seconds while Trunks kept wailing. Finally, Vegeta broke the eye contact first, glancing down at his son briefly, before looking off to the side. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Fine," he spat out tersely. "How do I make him stop then?"
"Just do what comes naturally to you, Vegeta. You'll be okay, tough guy," she reassured him, her gaze softening as she smiled at him. Before Vegeta could move out of the way, Bulma leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The prince flinched in surprise.
"Woman!" he growled indignantly, wiping at his cheek with his palm in disgust, as though she would leave some kind of mark.
Bulma just laughed. "Have fun, and don't be too hard on him," she said, before walking off back into the compound, the prince's eyes on her all the way.
"Mama!" Trunks yelled in horror when he saw Bulma walking away.
The little boy got up to his feet quickly, and immediately went to run after her, when Vegeta was suddenly in his way. Trunks yelped in surprise and lost his balance, landing sitting on the grass. He gawked up at Vegeta, who looked about twenty stories tall as he leaned over the little boy. Trunks' lip quivered, and he burst into tears again, covering his face with his hands.
Vegeta exhaled slowly through his nose as he stared down at his son. That goddamned woman. She should have given him some real advice on how to handle this boy instead of leaving him to this fate. The prince ran a hand down his face.
"Stop that racket this instant, boy," he ordered harshly, using the same tone he used to give orders to Nappa and Raditz.
Trunks cried more. Vegeta's eye was twitching again. He swore under his breath, at a complete loss on what to do. When his orders to his men weren't obeyed, he beat them senseless until they needed a rejuvenation chamber to recover. That was definitely out of the question with Trunks. Clearing his throat, he tried again.
"Stop your crying immediately, brat," he growled angrily.
Trunks kept wailing, tears streaming down his face as he wreaked havoc on his father's sensitive hearing. Vegeta grit his teeth. Seriously - this could NOT be that fucking hard. He had been in thousands of battles, and had brainstormed his way out of more life and death situations than he could count. He could handle a child!
Finally, the prince's patience snapped.
"That is ENOUGH!" Vegeta screamed.
Trunks flinched and immediately stopped crying, choking back his sobs. His blue eyes were wide with both shock and terror as he stared up at his father. Vegeta sneered down at him.
"You are my son, and I won't tolerate such foolish behavior from you, boy. You have royal Saiyan blood, and it's high time you start learning something about your heritage. You are soft and weak, but I will teach you what I know, and one day, you will be the strongest of all of us, not one of the brats of that dead third-class dog. Understand?"
Still sniffling, Trunks just blinked as he stared blankly up at Vegeta through tear-filled eyes.
"Good," Vegeta said gruffly, nodding in approval. "Now come. It's time to start showing you a thing or two."
"Mama," Trunks whimpered, pouting as he looked over at the compound.
"Your mama isn't here," Vegeta growled, walking around Trunks. "Now follow me."
The prince walked over to the gravity chamber, Trunks' blue diaper bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped before he walked in and looked back at his son. The little boy was still sitting in the grass, pouting as he stubbornly glared at his shoes, sniffling every few seconds.
"Don't make me walk over there and get you, boy," Vegeta warned.
Trunks looked at the compound, then looked over his shoulder at his father. Biting his lip anxiously, he slowly got up to his feet. He was still very afraid of Vegeta, but his curiosity got the best of him. That big white capsule had always gotten his attention, but Bulma never let him near it. It looked like that's where they were going to go. He hesitantly walked over to his father, and then pointed at the gravity chamber. Vegeta smirked at him and nodded, walking in. Trunks slowly walked in after him, his eyes wide with curiosity and amazement. He jumped when the door closed behind him, looking over at it in open-mouthed surprise.
"My home planet had ten times the gravity here on Earth," Vegeta said, drawing Trunks' attention. The prince was standing at the control panel, Trunks' bag at his feet, his arms crossed over his chest. "All Saiyan infants were used to it because that's what we were all born in. So the first natural step is for you to get used to that too. If our planet still existed, you would already be weaker than any low class Saiyan infant, and that is unacceptable."
His words sailed over Trunks' head as the little boy looked around in curiosity. He raised his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it while Vegeta kept talking. Trunks glanced over to a portal when he thought he saw a butterfly flying past.
Vegeta then engaged the gravity simulator to ten times Earth's gravity. Trunks looked around in confusion when he heard the whirring sound. Vegeta didn't even blink when the gravity finally kicked in, but Trunks immediately collapsed, falling flat on his back as the force easily pinned him to the floor.
"OWWWW!" the little boy yelled, unable to move an inch.
"Shit," Vegeta muttered under his breath, frowning in concern. He adjusted the settings, dropping the gravity until Trunks was able to get back up to his feet. He had to take it down to three times Earth's gravity until the little boy finally got back up.
Trunks scowled, more angry than anything. Something was weighing him down, but he had no clue what. He pulled the collar of his t-shirt out, looking down at himself in puzzlement to see if he was wearing something super heavy.
"We'll start here at three, and slowly work up until you can handle ten easily," Vegeta finally said.
Trunks pulled out the collar of his shirt to a ridiculous degree, before pulling it over his head as he continued his vain search for whatever was weighing him down. Vegeta walked over to him and squatted down in front of him. He rolled his eyes and pulled Trunks' shirt down. The little boy looked at Vegeta warily as the prince smoothed out the stretched collar of his shirt, readjusting the straps of Trunks' overalls. He then cupped Trunks' chin and raised his head, making him flinch and whimper at the feel of his father's rough hands on his soft skin. Vegeta was uncaring though, quickly and thoroughly brushing the remnants of Trunks' tears away with his other hand.
"Saiyans do not cry, so there will be no more of these foolish tears, boy," Vegeta said, frowning as he made eye contact with his son. Trunks bit his lip, but didn't look away as Vegeta lowered his hands. "Now then. Remember this?" the prince asked, raising one hand up as a blue ball of ki appeared over his palm. Trunks' blue eyes brightened and he immediately reached out to touch the blue ball, but Vegeta stood up and started walking backwards. "I don't think so, kid. You want it? Come and get it," he almost taunted.
Trunks' excited look melted into a glare, and Vegeta couldn't help the smirk that came over his face. Damn, the boy looked just like him. Trunks forced himself to move, walking slowly after his father, unknowingly battling the gravity as he focused on trying to catch up to Vegeta.
An hour later, Bulma was walking back upstairs, deciding she'd check on Vegeta and Trunks and see how things were going. It was time for Trunks to have his pre-dinner bottle anyways, and though she had explained all of that to Vegeta, she wasn't dumb. She'd seen the way Vegeta's eyes had glazed over while she gave him the run-down on what Trunks needed. She figured a little reminder wouldn't hurt, since he was probably too caught up with what he was doing with Trunks. She only hoped he wasn't overdoing it, since she didn't want her little boy to be sore tomorrow.
She walked into the kitchen and peered out through the window. Vegeta was outside now with Trunks. The prince had a good grip on the back of Trunks' overalls, and he had the boy raised eye-level with him as he spoke to him. Bulma smiled a little when she saw that Trunks was giving Vegeta his full attention as the prince pointed to the sky with his free hand while he continued lecturing.
She watched them for a little while, her heart warming with love. She didn't know what Vegeta was so concerned about. Clearly, Trunks had a natural instinct inside of him to respond to Vegeta's authority. And clearly, Vegeta wasn't that bad in the father role as he seemed to think.
Oh, they're so adorable together! she thought to herself, her smile widening. I should really take a pic-
Her thought derailed when she saw Vegeta suddenly rear up and launch Trunks right up into the air until the little boy was out of sight.
Vegeta was staring up at the sky, wondering if the boy's instincts would take over and he would learn how to fly, when he suddenly heard a loud screech.
"VEGETA!"
The prince flinched in shock, looking over as Bulma barged out of the compound and stormed over to him. Aw shit, he thought to himself, scowling as he looked up to where his son was free-falling back down. Damn. He didn't fly, he thought with a disappointed sigh. He'd explained how to fly to the boy, but clearly, he hadn't made himself clear…
Vegeta reached out with one hand and effortlessly caught Trunks by the back of his overalls before the boy plummeted down to the ground. Trunks blinked, too shocked from his terror to scream or cry as the world slowed back down to normal for him.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Bulma screamed as she stalked over to them, making Vegeta wince from her volume. "ARE YOU INSANE? TRUNKS CAN'T FLY YET!"
Vegeta sneered at her, "What the hell do you think I'm trying to show him, woman? The only way for the boy to learn how to fly is to be airborne."
"Well, could you just not throw him so high please!" Bulma yelled in exasperation. "I mean, seriously, are you TRYING to give me a heart attack?"
Indignant now, Vegeta turned to face her directly, fury growing in his dark eyes. "Is your brain malfunctioning today, or has your supposed genius always been stupidity in disguise? Do you really think for one second that I would let my own son fall to his death?"
Bulma hesitated a second too long in answering him. Suddenly, the fury in Vegeta's eyes was replaced by understanding. An awkward and uncomfortable tension rose between them as both of their minds went back to an event they had both tried to put behind them. Vegeta looked away and cleared his throat.
"You're thinking about what happened with Dr. Gero, aren't you?" Vegeta said more than asked, reading her with an accuracy that left Bulma feeling both ashamed and regretful. His tone was completely neutral as he continued, "Now you don't trust me with Trunks."
Trunks' shock and fear had subsided by this point, and he now wanted another round in the sky. He clapped happily.
"Up! Up!" he shouted excitedly, blissfully unaware of the suffocating tension between his parents.
"I didn't say that," Bulma finally said as she shook her head. "I didn't-" she swallowed and cleared her throat, "I know that you wouldn't-"
"Enough," Vegeta said gruffly with a scowl, cutting her off. Without so much as glancing at her, he lifted Trunks and put the little boy right into Bulma's chest, making her instinctively take their son in her arms. "I'm done with him."
"Vegeta-" Bulma started in a pleading voice, but he was already walking away. As if she didn't feel bad enough, Trunks leaned towards him, his bottom lip quivering as he watched his father walk away. He looked at his mother and pointed urgently at Vegeta, and Bulma sighed. She held him with one arm and reached up, covering her eyes with her hand.
Bulma took a deep breath to compose herself, but she felt horrible. That incident was a long time ago, and she had her fair share of the blame for Dr. Gero almost killing her and Trunks by shooting her jet down. She shouldn't have been there to begin with. She was a mother now, not a sixteen-year-old looking for fun and adventure. Yes, Vegeta hadn't lifted a finger to save her, but her own guilt had always stopped her from holding it against him. After all, he hadn't made any kind of commitment to Trunks. Her son's safety was her responsibility, and she simply should have known better. She knew that Vegeta had a different perspective now and that he wouldn't hurt Trunks, but Bulma couldn't help it. Her maternal instincts had just kicked in, leaving no room for rational thought.
I hurt him, she realized, dismayed at the thought. Vegeta wouldn't ever admit to such a thing, and would probably be enraged by the mere suggestion, but she knew that he already doubted himself enough for both of them. She hadn't helped the cause.
"Mama," Trunks said with a pout, tugging on her shirt. Bulma took a deep breath and lowered her hand, looking down at him. He had tears in his eyes as he pointed towards the door Vegeta had walked through.
"I know, honey," Bulma said apologetically. "Don't worry, Daddy's just tired. He'll train you again. Did you have fun with him?" Trunks nodded and she smiled a little, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. "Good. Next time, your silly Mommy will just stay out of it. Now how about your bottle?"
"Bulma!"
Looking over her shoulder in surprise, Bulma saw Yamcha walking into the backyard, a bright smile on his face. She groaned inwardly; her ex really had poor timing.
"Hey," she said, giving him a strained smile. "I didn't know you were stopping by."
Yamcha's smile faltered a little, but he kept it on his face as he answered, "Really? I sent you a text yesterday asking if it was alright, and you replied saying yes."
"I did?" Bulma asked, blinking in surprise. She must have really been swamped with her work to have had that text exchange and then forgotten all about it.
"Yeah," Yamcha answered, walking over and smiling at Trunks. "Hey little man, how's it going?"
"Oh, now that you're here, could you watch him for me?" Bulma asked, handing Trunks over to Yamcha without so much as waiting for an answer. "I have to go talk to Vegeta."
"Oh," Yamcha said, trying hard to keep his disappointment out of his voice. "Yeah, sure," he said, taking Trunks into his arms.
"Thanks," she said, flashing him a genuine smile, before turning and walking away.
Yamcha watched her walk away with a sigh, before Trunks started squirming to get out of his hold. He lowered the little boy to the grass, and Trunks immediately ran back to the gravity chamber. Yamcha's eyes widened, and he gave chase, "Hey! Come back here!"
Meanwhile, Vegeta was pacing back and forth in his room like a caged lion. He was torn between taking off and going back to the gravity room to train under his old levels. His jaw was clenched tightly in frustration as his pacing quickened. The raging emotions inside of him were maddening, and he was having a difficult time sorting through them.
Deep down, he knew that he could not bring himself to raise a finger to hurt Bulma or Trunks. That was as true now as it had always been, but at the time of the incident with Dr. Gero, he had still been having a very hard time accepting that fact. It also didn't help that he found out the true identity of Mirai Trunks not long before Bulma appeared in her jet with their infant son. All he could think of at the time was how much of a burden all of them were, how much they weighed him down. His resentment was teetering on the edge of hatred by the time Bulma made her appearance in her jet.
So when the opportunity presented itself and he saw them falling to their deaths, he looked away and pretended he didn't even notice as he focused instead on locating the fleeing Dr. Gero. Having both of them die and be out of his life forever was something he had not been opposed to. If they died, then he would be back to having no attachments again, and he didn't have to even do anything to make it happen.
Of course, he was also well aware that the future version of his son would likely save them – and he was not surprised when the boy did. But his own callous mentality towards them at the time made Vegeta feel ashamed now, and he didn't know why.
Why should he feel ashamed for his actions in the past? He had seen his son from the future die and it had changed his perspective; as was usually the case with Vegeta, he needed to learn things the hard way, and that's exactly what happened. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't it enough that he was staying on this planet that he absolutely fucking hated, just to be close to his son? What the hell did the woman want from him, an apology?
Whirling around, Vegeta slammed his fist hard into the wall with a snarl, punching a hole clean through it. It did little to take the edge off his rage, rage that was mostly directed at himself. Try as he might, he could not help but wonder: what if Mirai Trunks hadn't saved them?
Why do I even care? he wondered to himself in absolute bewilderment. All he had to do was assure the woman that the boy was safe under his watch. There was no reason for the guilt that was gnawing at him, or the feeling he couldn't name that reared up at the knowledge that Bulma didn't fully trust him with Trunks.
Vegeta could feel his ki surging, and he cursed to himself as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose to calm down. He needed to leave and get some fresh air. He needed to clear his mind. He grabbed the leather jacket hanging over the back of the chair at his desk in his room. He usually didn't need such a thing, but the place where he went to clear his mind was colder than even he was comfortable in. He was slipping it on when there was a knock at the door.
"Vegeta?" Bulma asked on the other side.
The prince adjusted his jacket as he looked over his shoulder at the door. Bulma tried to enter, but it was locked. Vegeta's lip twitched and he looked away, remaining silent. He was too flustered to deal with her right now. He knew himself, and he knew that he hardly watched his words when he was agitated. For some reason he didn't know, he didn't want to risk putting himself in a situation where he would say something he would regret. The regret he felt already was quite enough for his taste.
Bulma finally gave up and left, and he sighed in relief. He went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, and it helped calm him. When he finally came back out and opened the window to make his departure, he froze at the scene down below in the backyard.
Bulma, Yamcha, Trunks, and Bunny were all in the backyard now. Vegeta scowled as he watched Yamcha trying to show Trunks how to play rock, paper, scissors while Bunny and Bulma laughed on the side. Vegeta's lip twitched in agitation, his eyes burning with raging jealousy as his gaze finally settled on Yamcha. The urge inside of him to rip Yamcha's head off was practically crippling in its intensity. Bulma and Trunks…
…are mine?
He blinked in surprise as the words whispered into his mind. Well, Trunks was certainly his son. But Bulma? Vegeta scoffed and closed the window, before turning around and heading out the other way.
This planet was really making him lose his mind.
"Kind of an early night for him, isn't it?" Yamcha asked as Bulma finally walked back into the living room. She took a seat next to him on the sofa and offered him a half-smile.
"Well, Vegeta was working with him for about an hour. I figured he'd go down early tonight."
"Speaking of, any idea where he is?" Yamcha asked, looking up towards Vegeta's room. He had sensed the Saiyan when he first showed up several hours ago, but the prince had taken off shortly afterwards.
Bulma's smile disappeared at his question. She sighed in disappointment.
"No, but he'll be around. He's never gone for too long."
Yamcha nodded, and then gave her a smile. "Well, anyways, I was just wondering. Do you have any plans for this Friday night?"
Bulma looked at him in surprise. "What?"
"I said, do you-"
"No, yeah, I heard you. I mean- are you asking me out on a date?"
"What? Who? Me? Us? A date?" Yamcha said, forcing out a laugh. "Of course not. It's just one of my friends who I used to play baseball with wants me to go check out this new club he's opening, and I don't want to go alone. That's all. It's not a date," he snorted. Bulma narrowed her eyes at him, and he immediately rambled, "I mean, not that I wouldn't mind a date with you, of course. Who wouldn't want to go out on a date with you? If you really want it to be a date, I mean, we can make it a date-"
"Yamcha."
"Yes, I'll shut up now," he said sheepishly. Not able to help it, Bulma smiled at him and snickered a little.
"I don't know, but if I get my work done by then, then I'll think about it," she finally said.
Yamcha's eyes brightened. "Really?"
"Well, we'll see," Bulma said, before gushing in excitement, "I'm really putting a lot of work into my research and I'm almost on the verge of figuring out a working solution to the 3D space and time version of the Navier-Stokes equations-"
"Right, that's great, B. So maybe we could get something to eat before we go. I was thinking Italian? I know it's your favorite," Yamcha said with a grin. Bulma sucked at her upper teeth, irritated by the interruption and once again reminded why they hadn't been able to work.
"Maybe, we'll see," she said again, before standing up. She pulled off the headband that was keeping her hair back. "I think I'm going to go take a shower and then call it an early night myself."
"Oh, okay," Yamcha said, standing as well. He took a step closer to her, but she raised her hands and used a hair tie around her wrist to pull her hair back. She always kept one ready whenever Trunks started getting too much fun out of yanking on her hair; she made a mental note to cut it short again as soon as she got a moment. Right now though, tying her hair back provided the perfect excuse not to make any physical contact with him. Yamcha hesitated, but smiled anyways. "Well, how about you just call or text me then and let me know if we're on for Friday night?"
"Sure, I'll do that," Bulma said, forcing a smile and making a mental note to write that down so she wouldn't forget.
"Awesome, I hope you can make it. I'll get going then so you can go shower. Puar's probably wondering where I'm at anyways."
"Okay, sounds good."
"Alright, later B."
"Bye," Bulma said, watching him head out for a few seconds before turning and heading the opposite way. She wasn't sure about the idea of going out like she used to. Those days had definitely come to a grinding halt with Trunks.
Maybe it would do her some good to get out of the compound and have some fun for once. She definitely deserved it. She'd been working harder than usual lately, on the verge of a huge breakthrough in her research. As such, she had been pushing harder with her work lately, while juggling her motherly duties, while trying her hardest to get Vegeta more comfortable around them. All things that were starting to drain her; especially the last one. Not for the first time, she contemplated hiring some extra hands to help her with Trunks. It was a thought.
After getting a beer, she stepped out in the backyard. It was nighttime now, and the air was refreshingly cool. Bulma looked up at the sky and sighed, wondering where Vegeta was.
As if on cue, his voice cut through the air.
"There is more emptiness up there than you think."
Startled, Bulma looked over to her side. He was there, leaning against the compound, gazing up at the sky with his arms crossed over his chest. Bulma let out a calming breath, before frowning at him.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me?"
Vegeta snorted. "I've been out here. You are just blind to your surroundings."
Bulma sighed and walked over to him. She stayed a few feet away as she also leaned up against the compound. They fell into an awkward silence. He kept his eyes up on the constellations, while she twirled the bottle of beer in her hand.
"About earlier," she finally started. "I didn't mean-"
"Don't," he cut her off, without looking at her. "Don't apologize."
She looked over at him, and he could already feel the intensity of her gaze. Bulma always wore her emotions on her sleeve, whether that was happiness or anger, or everything in between. Without even saying anything, he could feel her questioning him.
"Well, I just felt bad, you know. I panicked," she said guiltily. "I know that things are different-"
"I said, don't," he repeated, his tone harsh now. His earlier rage was coming back, but this time, it was directed at her. What the hell was wrong with this Earth woman? He was the one who had fucked up, not her. His eye twitched, and he reached up to massage it to make it stop as he sighed.
"The incident with Dr. Gero. Bulma… I didn't…" Vegeta started, frowning as his voice trailed off. He crossed his arms tighter over his chest in frustration. He was so out of his element here, that part of him just wanted to say to hell with this and leave again. He owed her no explanations, his pride said. But he couldn't help it. He felt like he did.
Bulma turned to look at him directly, now giving him her undivided attention. Rare were the times when the man before her actually addressed her by name, and even rarer were the times when he was hesitant in speaking his mind.
"You didn't what?" she finally asked him gently. Vegeta exhaled through his nose in frustration and looked away from her.
"I didn't think…" he shifted his weight awkwardly. He had left for the sole purpose of organizing his thoughts just for this moment, and now here was the moment, and he didn't know what to say. He was hardly an expert at this kind of thing, and the only reason he was even bothering was because she deserved more from him. She was the mother of his son, and that hadn't mean a damn thing to him once upon a time.
But it meant something now. Vegeta finally drew up his resolve, and looked her in the eye.
"In retrospect, I could have…handled that, and many other things…differently," he conceded.
Bulma smiled at his form of an apology. She knew that was the closest he could get. She really did understand him. At the thought, some tension finally left Vegeta's shoulders and chest. He looked away awkwardly.
"Well, you were hardly the only one at fault, so don't beat yourself too much over it," Bulma told him reassuringly. She looked down at her beer bottle with a sigh. "I shouldn't have been there to begin with. Some mother I am, huh?" she asked, half jokingly and half regretfully.
Vegeta responded before he could stop himself.
"You're a good mother."
Bulma looked back over at him in surprise, before smiling brilliantly at him. "That's such a sweet thing to say," she said, her heart swarming with love. Her smile grew as a noticeable blush spread over his features, even in the dark night.
"Whatever," he muttered, before motioning with his chin for her beer bottle. She came a little closer and handed it to him. He took it and took a swig, and this time, the silence between them was much more comfortable.
"I'll make it a point to stay out of the way when you want to train Trunks."
Vegeta looked down and admired his steel-toed black boots for a moment, before hesitantly clearing his throat.
"I know that you don't trust me with the boy-"
"No, I do, I just-"
"Woman, will you just shut the fuck up and let me speak?" Vegeta hissed in agitation. "You had better believe that what I am about to tell you, I will never tell you again. Do you want to hear it or not?"
More out of curiosity than anything, Bulma stayed silent. Vegeta drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Finally, he looked away and quietly spoke.
"I know that things have not always been…ideal…between us. I make no excuses for what I have said or done before. And I cannot guarantee that I will never say or do something else in the future that will offend you. But the one thing I can guarantee you is this: I won't ever physically harm you or Trunks. As long as I am here…you will both be safe."
Vegeta's face was hot as he fell into silence. He had never made anyone such a promise (he had purposely avoided using that word, since it held no true meaning to him), but there it was. He kept his gaze averted off to the side, as each second ticked away into more and more uncomfortable silence. He wanted to look over at her and see if he could get a gauge on her reaction to what he said, but he stubbornly refused to.
The prince stiffened when he suddenly felt her near him. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. This time, he didn't flinch.
"Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered in his ear, sending a chill down his spine.
Vegeta grunted and absently turned his head a little towards her. Her breath was still on his skin, and it was making the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. Bulma brought a hand up to his face, gently turning his head the rest of the way. Vegeta closed his eyes and sighed into the ensuing kiss. They both slowly reacquainted themselves, both of their tongues lazily playing with the other as they each patiently explored the other's hot mouth. He hesitantly put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, savoring in her rare and familiar taste. It had been so long…
Bulma ran her hands up his chest, pushing his jacket back as he turned them so he had her pinned against the wall. Vegeta dropped the beer bottle as he put his hands on the sides of her face, deepening their kiss, both of their hearts pounding as she slipped her hands under his shirt.
He was going to shrug out of his leather jacket when Bulma broke their kiss. Vegeta instinctively snarled, his dark eyes clouded with desire, but Bulma put a finger on his lips to hush him. She frowned and looked off to the side.
"That's Trunks."
Vegeta reined himself in, before listening. Yes, that was indeed their son wailing. He scowled and pulled himself away from her, readjusting his jacket.
"How the hell did you hear the brat from here?" he demanded gruffly.
"A mother's gift," she told him teasingly.
"Hn," he grunted, his lip twitching in irritation. Bulma reached out to him, and he froze from head to toe as she wiped his upper lip with her thumb, ridding him of some lip gloss that she'd left on him.
"I'm going to go make sure he's alright, but if you're up for some fun later, do stop by, dear prince," she whispered to him with a flirtatious smirk. Vegeta swallowed heavily at her invitation as she let her thumb linger on his lips for longer than necessary.
"Vulgar woman," he mumbled under his breath with a frown.
Bulma laughed at him and turned around, heading back inside to go check on Trunks. Vegeta let out a deep breath, before taking off his jacket altogether. He was too hot for it now. He held it in one hand, running his other hand down over his mouth.
What the hell had just happened? He had no intention of ever doing such a thing with Bulma again, and yet…? Did the woman have an ability to cast spells on him? He shook his head in absolute confusion. He was no closer to understanding the woman than he was the day he found her and Krillin on Namek. Nor did he understand his own desire for her. He was not a lust-driven man. He had control over his desires and primal needs.
But this wasn't about lust. Lust, he understood. But this…
Vegeta sighed in defeat. Turning around, he leapt up, easily landing on his bedroom windowsill. He climbed in, and resolved not to take Bulma up on her invitation. She had simply caught him at a weak moment with his guard down. He'd opened up to her, and she had made a move on him, and he had given in. A simple mistake, one that wouldn't happen again.
As he stripped down and got into the shower, turning on the water as cold as it would go, he already knew the truth.
He was really only fooling himself.