I lied. There's no action in this chapter. I wound up writing some more storyline stuff instead, sorry. Don't worry though. When the action hits, it's gonna hit HARD.
Vegeta blinked open his eyes sleepily at the quiet sound of his cell phone ringing under his pillow, but when he saw the full moon in the sky outside his window, he knew who was calling him and he rushed to throw on a pair of loose pants. "I'm coming," he said into the phone.
"Thank you," her voice whispered gratefully.
Vegeta hung up the phone and zipped down to the med lab without touching the floor; it wouldn't do to risk waking Trunks or Usagi… if she was even home, yet. "Dear Kami, woman," he gasped at the sight of her. "They really put you through the wringer."
"I know," she whimpered, clutching at her ribs.
"I hate to ask… but what happened to the senzu I gave you?" Vegeta asked as he began to expertly check her over.
"I took one earlier tonight after… after the first incident… the other, I wanted to save just in case." Usagi drew in a sharp breath when he lightly pressed her ribcage and she felt the bones grind together.
"Moon woman… what happened?" Vegeta asked with genuine concern. These weren't injuries from fighting; Vegeta knew torture when he saw it. He'd participated in enough of it to know the signs, such as the raw circular marks around her wrists and arms, caused by the chafing of rope.
The tears came unbidden, and Usagi trembled as he wrapped his arms around her lightly and cradled her head to his chest. "They… they caught me. I was… I was trying to locate a headquarters of sort… and they were waiting. I—I barely made it out… that senzu bean… it saved my life… my legs were broken… I—I made an escape, and this second beating was the result… but I got out that time."
Vegeta froze at that, and looked down at her seriously. "Moon woman… did they…" He swallowed the rage welling up in him at the very thought. "Did they hurt you?" God… if they had… thank Kami that Usagi was living there, he'd go get her and have her care for the moon woman if they'd actually…
She immediately understood his meaning and shook her head. "No… no, I got out of there before that… I heard them talking though, in the other room… I—I was scared," she admitted softly, her tears falling onto his bare chest. "Th—They were saving me for the—the boss… he—he told them—"
"You're safe now," he assured her, cutting off the statement as he sensed her breaking down. "Eat that last senzu, Moon. I'll get you some more in a minute." Vegeta waited several minutes for her shaking to ease, and she eventually pulled the other senzu from a hole in the air and ate it, sighing as her injuries instantly mended. "There, that's better. Come on, let's get you something hot to drink, it's cold outside and you're shivering."
"I—uh—no, Vegeta, but thank you. I have to go… I have work in the morning. But thank you for the offer," Usagi whispered as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks at the realization that he was holding her. It felt nice, though, she had to admit. Vegeta was an asshole, yes, but from her dealings with him as Sailor Moon, and a couple incidents as Usagi, she knew he was a good man. Just a hard man.
Fighting down his beast, which was urging him to protect and claim, Vegeta nodded and released her. "I'll go get you those senzu. Stay put, moon woman." The prince rushed back up to his room and considered waking Trunks for a moment to meet her. But his beast roared jealously at the thought and Vegeta knew right then that his inner Saiyan had definitely set his sights on claiming Sailor Moon whether he liked it or not. "Ugh, damned thing has a mind of his own," Vegeta snorted quietly to himself as he grabbed five senzu from his stash and brought them down to her.
Just the sight of her sitting there, quiet and still trembling a little, set his beast to yelling out for him to comfort her and then kill whomever had harmed her, and Vegeta couldn't help but give in to the first urge. "You going to be alright?" He asked as he sat down next to her and held her tightly against him.
"Yeah," she whispered tearfully, "I'm sorry for the waterworks, Vegeta… I just… I haven't been that terrified in a long time," she admitted.
"You shouldn't be doing this alone, moon woman. Whatever happened to those other girls that ran around with you fighting crime?"
"That's a very long story, Vegeta," she sighed softly, wiping at fresh tears. "In short, they don't remember ever being Senshi, and they no longer have their powers, anyway. I have them now… that's why I'm so strong. I'd be stronger as Sailor Cosmos, my strongest form, but…" She shuddered. "I can't be her… she's… cold."
"Cold isn't you, you're right," Vegeta agreed. She was warm, and full of light and life, and those thoughts made it impossible not to turn her head towards his so that he could press his lips to hers. "Damn it," he breathed when she stiffened in reaction. "Shouldn't have done that."
Blushing to her toes at the spark of desire that had gone through her at the contact, Sailor Moon slowly pulled away. "No, it's… it's ok. If anything, you deserved that," she replied a little shyly.
"I didn't do it because I thought I deserved it," he snapped hotly, quickly separating from her and walking out of the med lab. Vegeta made it halfway up the stairs to his room before he forced himself to stop and turned back around. But she was gone when he reached the med lab, the only evidence she'd been there a scrap of paper fluttering near the open window. He picked it up guiltily, but smirked when he read it.
I know you didn't. And I didn't mean it that way.
Well, then. Maybe he'd have to try it again the next time he saw her.
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Vegeta hesitated only a half-minute before cracking open his assistant's door and staring into the gloom. It was six in the morning, and for the first time other than the morning he'd fired her, she wasn't up and working, and his coffee wasn't ready. "Woman?" He grunted.
A soft whimper was his only response, and he was surprised to feel an actual twinge of concern for her. "You hurt?"
"I'm coming," she replied with another whimper, and he heard her slide out of the bed with what sounded like a sob. When she got to the door and visibly cringed at the light in the hallway, holding a wet cloth over her forehead, Vegeta frowned.
"You're sick?"
With a faint blush, Usagi nodded slightly, flinching at the throbbing in her temples. "Migraine," she whispered. "Don't worry, I'll go make your coffee and get to work, Mr. Briefs."
Vegeta sputtered when she stepped past him, only to clutch at her forehead and cover her eyes with the other under the full glare of the hallway lights. He barely caught her before she fell, and when he scooped her up, the blood scent hit him full force. "It's one of those woman time headaches, isn't it?" Her slight nod and the fact that she wasn't even fighting the fact that he was carrying her confirmed his suspicions, and he put her back in her bed, careful not to jar her neck or head. "I can fix this. Roll onto your stomach, woman."
Hearing that he could fix the pounding freight train running through her skull made Usagi give less than two shits about the fact that her boss was not only in her room, but sitting on the edge of her bed in nothing but his pants while she was only clad in a silk nightgown. She rolled slowly, only to jump a little when he sat on her backside and shoved her nightgown up and over her head before she could even voice a protest.
"Just hush," he grunted, "I've done this before." His hands immediately went to her neck and his thumbs began to slowly move in circles along her hairline, and when she practically sobbed in reaction, he knew it was working. Bulma had had the same reaction the first time he'd done this for her over twenty years ago. "Relax," he ordered, his voice just barely above a whisper so as not to worsen her headache. "There's too much tension in your neck and shoulders."
"Can't," she whimpered, "hurts too much."
Vegeta sighed and nodded, he'd been a victim of only two migraines in his entire life, and both of them had been even more excruciating than his own demise at the hands of Frieza. He knew what he had to do, and started at her neck once more, slowly working his thumbs down the length of the muscles beside her spine until he reached the hem of her panties. He then spread his hands over the width of her lower back, warmed them with his ki, and proceeded to massage muscles that were tight with menstrual cramps.
Usagi gasped sharply at the heat pouring into her where his hands worked and kneaded her flesh, and that same breath was released with a low moan of pleasure. The pain in her lower back seemed to melt away within moments, but he didn't stop there. She let out a series of soft moans and sighs as his hands skillfully moved over the length of her back for a long time before coming to rest at her shoulders.
Vegeta smirked in triumph as he felt her slowly succumb to his skill, and practically groaned with glee at the knowledge that his coffee was just around the corner. "The things I do for that damned coffee," he chuckled.
"And here… I was thinking that you were… just being… kind," she whispered in reply between soft gurgles of pleasure. Then he moved back to her hairline and did something with his knuckles that made her mumble incoherently in Japanese, and she bent her head to give him better access to the spot that he was focusing on.
"Think whatever you want to, woman. Just so long as it involves one sugar and three creams," he snickered in reply. "Still cramping?" He asked after a few more minutes.
"Yeah, but the headache's nearly gone. I think I can function, now," she sighed in relief.
"It'll come right back, woman. You'll be a puddle in the middle of the kitchen before my coffee's even ready."
"I'm beginning to think you're a bit of a caffeine addict, Mr. Briefs."
"No, I'm a stickler for routine and perfection. Your coffee is perfection, and it's part of the routine I've established over the years. Flip over," he ordered, and when she didn't immediately comply he rolled her. Vegeta noted her blush and rolled his eyes a little when she slowly shook her head only to wince at the action. "Woman, you're covered, and it's nothing I haven't seen before. Just relax."
She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look up at him and see all of those lovely rippling muscles at work as his hands warmed once more and he began to gently massage her lower belly. "You… uh… really don't have to do this, Mr. Briefs."
"What…? Is this turning you on, woman?" Vegeta grinned when her eyes flew open and she glared at him, her face bright red at the very suggestion. "It was a joke, woman. Kami, and you say that I lack a sense of humor."
Usagi just looked away from him and avoided eye contact, thankful that she was on her period. If she hadn't been, she very likely would have been turned on by the way those large, calloused hands were moving over her with a gentleness that she would have never thought them capable of. "No, that's enough," she said quickly, when his hands moved to one of her thighs. But he grunted a reply that was so elaborately vulgar that she immediately clamped down on another protest and lay back, closing her eyes.
Vegeta stopped just above her knee when she let out a pleased little noise and looked up from what he was doing, only to be floored by his own arousal at the sight of her face. Her eyes were closed and relaxed, and her cheeks were flushed in embarrassment while her lips were parted slightly in an expression of pleasure. "The knee hurts?"
"Always," she whispered, "worse during my period."
"Injury?" Vegeta resumed his ministrations as he watched her face, unable to look away from her as her lips turned up in a tiny, pleased smile.
"Car wreck," she lied smoothly.
He moved to her other thigh and stopped at what looked like a very old scar. "And this?"
Usagi tried not to jump as his fingers brushed over the bullet wound she'd sustained only a couple weeks ago—the one he'd helped heal. "Childhood accident. How'd you get all of yours?" She asked with the sole intention of turning the subject to him, her eyes staying closed as she tried not to moan outright at what his hands were doing to her.
"Fighting," he replied simply. When her eyes cracked open and she looked at him questioningly, he snorted. "Fine. A lot of fighting, over a lot of years. This one?" He asked, tracing an indentation on her thigh that he couldn't quite see in the dark. He didn't miss her shiver, and Vegeta wondered what in the hell was wrong with him when he brushed over it once more. He could feel the Saiyan in him rising to the surface suddenly, telling him that the woman he was straddling would be a suitable mate.
No, damn it, no! He raged at his inner beast. The only woman he'd even be remotely interested in was that moon woman, and he was not going to jump just any beautiful blonde that looked a little bit like her.
"Fighting," she answered. Usagi smirked when he halted his actions, and she could practically feel that intense black gaze boring into her. "What? Girls fight, too, you know."
"Not girls like you," he retorted. "Relax," he ordered, when he felt her tense in what could only be anger. "So… who were you fighting?"
"Someone I didn't like. You?"
"Same," he chuckled, unable to help himself. "Did you win?"
"Kicked their asses," she replied in a tone with a hint of savagery that had his brows hitting his hairline. And that tiny, mirthless smile on her face reminded him a lot of her, too. "You?"
"Won a hell of a lot more than I lost." Fuck, that look on her face made him think of that damned moon woman enough that he really was starting to get turned on. He needed to finish this, and fast. "Eh, hold still," he admonished, when she jumped at the sensation of him leaning over her, his fingers going to her temples.
Usagi blinked open her eyes just long enough to see the intense look of concentration on his face and immediately closed them again, the sight of his jaw twitching burned into her brain. When that happened, it only meant that something was really bothering him, and she didn't know if he knew, but she could feel something twitching against her lower stomach. Damn it, why did he have to be so downright sexy!? The fact that he'd kissed her a few nights ago as Sailor Moon wasn't helping either, as she recalled that rush of heat she'd felt at the contact.
"Thank you," she whispered. The fingers at her temples were moving carefully and gently, and she could feel the remainder of her migraine beginning to melt away. "I think I can make your coffee now, Mr. Briefs."
Vegeta nodded and slid off the bed, and after a moment he tapped his foot impatiently. "Well? Come on, woman."
Usagi blushed and managed to sit up without exposing herself, and quickly righted her nightgown before slipping out of the bed. She blushed when he caught her as she stumbled against a wave of dizziness, and she couldn't help but notice how wonderfully warm and solid he was as he helped her stand back up. "Um… thank you. Sorry, I was just dizzy."
"Got your balance now?" He asked, unable to keep the husky edge out of his voice as he held her close. His inner Saiyan practically purred at the feel of those soft curves pressing against him and the way her hand was laying on his bare chest.
"Um… yes," she said softly, and before she could stop herself she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his cheek. "Thank you again, I don't know how I would have made it through today if you hadn't done… what you did."
"Anytime," he grunted, resisting the temptation to bend his head and give her a real kiss. His cheek practically burned where her lips had touched him, almost as if it were a brand. "Now, go make my damned coffee, woman. I have a training schedule that's already an hour behind."
The light still hurt her eyes a little bit in the kitchen, but Usagi could already feel the pain ebbing and knew that the migraine was gone… at least for now. They were getting more and more frequent as she continued to work harder and sleep less, but she couldn't stop. "Not now," she whispered to herself. "You're so close." But she couldn't afford to be laid low by a pounding team of horses running through her head, either.
She'd take a few days off from the fighting, she finally decided as she set the coffeemaker to brew. Usagi had always hated trying to do battle during the worst days of her period, anyway, so it was a double-win for her. She'd get the rest she desperately needed, and her skills wouldn't be compromised by the menstrual cramps and bloating. Besides, she knew where the next Triad cell was located, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
She could put some more info into the Senshi computer as well, since she'd heard some stuff about the Yakuza during the couple hours that she'd been tied up. That way she could get right to work on them once she was finished taking out the Triads.
She was broken out of her reverie by a lavender-haired playboy groaning as he sat down at the table. "I forgot how damned bad Dad's training regimens are. Coffee?" He asked hopefully, blushing a little at the sight of Usagi in her slightly revealing nightgown.
"Ack, sorry, honey. I'll go get some clothes on in a minute. Vegeta's just sort of used to me stomping into the kitchen in only my night clothes. Here," she offered, setting a mug in front of him. "And if you're going to stay out all night partying with a bunch of girls, you don't have room to complain about spending time with your father, Trunks. Trust me, you should be grateful for the chance," she added a little sadly.
"She's right," Vegeta grunted, tipping Usagi a nod when she gave him a smile of gratitude for getting rid of her headache. "The part about not whining, anyway. If you don't want to suffer from a lack of sleep, stay the fuck at home and go to bed on time," he advised.
"Hey, I'm a grown man, damn it!"
Usagi winced and squeezed her eyes shut at the increase in volume, and Vegeta cuffed Trunks lightly in the back of the head. "It's too fucking early for yelling, keep it down," he snapped.
Since when was it ever too early or late for yelling where Vegeta was concerned!? Trunks just stared at his father in shock, and missed the naked look of relief that Usagi was giving the older Saiyan. "Ok…? Is this better?" He asked softly.
"Much," Vegeta grunted. "Now shut up and eat something, and get your ass to the training room. Kakarot and his spawn are coming over for a training exercise in an hour."
"Then sparring, maybe?" Trunks asked hopefully.
"Damn right. We need a rematch after that tie last week. Eat," Vegeta grumped, setting a microwaved meal in front of him, and another in front of Usagi.
"Thank you," she said softly to Vegeta, feeling her heart warm towards him for such a kind gesture after all he'd already done for her that morning.
A curt nod was his only reply, and if Trunks thought to comment on it, he obviously squashed the urge at the sight of his father's jaw twitching. Something was clearly bothering him, that was the only viable explanation for the Saiyan prince acting so out of character.
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Vegeta stopped in the living room at the sight of Usagi folding an enormous pile of clothing, and shook his head a little in surprise. "What are you doing, woman?"
"Folding clothes, duh. What in the hell does it look like?" She snorted, not once taking her eyes off the stock reports on the television.
"I'm not blind, woman. Why are you folding clothes? My clothes, at that?" He added with a touch of annoyance.
"Would you prefer to fold them yourself?" She asked a little coldly.
"No. That's what maids are for. Which is why I'm asking why you're doing the laundry?"
"One of the maids went into labor this morning before she could come in to work, and I fired another one for stealing yesterday. Does that answer your questions, Mr. Briefs?" Usagi asked, knowing what was coming next, and she decided to answer it before he could open his mouth all the way. "Some of Mrs. Briefs's jewelry," she added softly. When Vegeta growled, Usagi shook her head. "Every piece has been returned and the others were accounted for. I handled it the moment I was tipped off… it's not the first time something like this has happened."
"Really." However, Vegeta couldn't help but feel a bit of gratitude towards her for not only protecting the things that had once belonged to his dead mate, but for also picking up the slack with no complaint. "May I ask how it was handled?"
Usagi lifted a brow and shrugged. "I threatened to prosecute her to the fullest if she didn't return the jewelry immediately, and then I had her escorted out," she lied smoothly. Actually, she'd slapped the woman around quite a bit when the maid denied stealing the jewelry, but Mr. Briefs didn't need to know… after all, that was also something that wasn't a first for her when taking care of thieves in the household. As Usagi or as Sailor Moon, she wouldn't abide a thief, period.
"Sure," Vegeta grunted with a tiny, knowing smirk. That glint in her eyes was all he needed to see, it completely gave away what she was really thinking. So… she'd gotten a little physical in defense of his home, huh? "I should give you a raise."
Usagi snorted at that and laughed, not seeing the way his eyes lit up momentarily at the sound. "You already gave me one, Mr. Briefs. Even though it was eight years late," she replied, still chuckling. "I'll settle for you putting your own damned clothes away, though. Here." Usagi stood and handed over a pile. "I'll set the rest outside your door in a basket. I thought you could use those shorts since there were so many of them. Kami… you really go through underwear."
"Those aren't my underwear, woman."
"Huh… well…" Usagi glanced back at the pile and scrutinized it carefully before scratching her head. "Then where are… oh."
Vegeta smirked when she suddenly blushed to her toes and mumbled something under her breath in Japanese. "You won't find any sleeping clothes in there either, woman," he informed her with a laugh as he turned and made his way up the stairs.
He came back an hour later to find all the clothes folded, and Usagi curled up on the couch in one of those flimsy nightgowns, her legs tucked under her and a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. "You're not going out tonight?"
"Not on my period," she replied absently, still watching the ticker across the bottom of the screen.
Vegeta froze at that and stared at her. "You're not really a whore, are you?" He asked.
Usagi barked out a laugh and grinned at him. "Kami, no, Mr. Briefs. Why would you think that?"
"Well, you're not going out on your woman thing, so… are you a stripper, then?" He guessed, trying to think of all the professions that would possibly keep her home while she was bleeding. "Because either you're a stripper, or you have an obsession with mouth-watering underwear," he added, pointing at her pile of folded clothes.
"Hentai," Usagi snorted, whacking his arm lightly. "Keep your eyes and your mind off my panties, Mr. Briefs."
"Yet you neglect to mention my hands and mouth," Vegeta retorted smoothly, leaning back into the couch cushions to simply watch her blush from head to toe. "So… should I have a pole installed in your room so you can practice your routine at home?" He continued to tease.
"Oh my—you—you—asshole," Usagi huffed, trying her hardest not to laugh. "You're such a fucking troll," she muttered into her cup.
"Oh, you're no fun. How's the head?"
"Still hurts a little," she admitted, when he gave her a look that told her a lie would not be tolerated. "But it's fine, Mr. Briefs, it's nothing compared to this morning, thank you. I just need some rest, that's why I'm staying home."
"For a few days at least?" He asked. Vegeta grunted and nodded in approval when she nodded sullenly. "Good. I never thought I'd say this to anyone, but you work too hard, woman. It's acceptable to take a break from time to time. Believe me, I learned it the hard way. Long story," he added, when she gave him a questioning look. He couldn't very well explain the gravity room explosion on his quest to Super Saiyan without giving away his big secret. "Ugh… do you always watch the news?"
"No, but after the deal with Omura with finalized, I wanted to watch the stocks. You can change it, though, I've only read the same numbers a dozen times. Those numbers are looking good, too," she added with a grin.
"Aren't the stock exchanges closed, woman?"
"Not in America," she said with a grin. "And they're going up and up. Trunks is going to be ecstatic when the Japanese exchange opens in the morning. Speaking of Trunks…?"
"Sleeping," Vegeta replied as he flipped through the channels. "Boy's gonna have to learn not to burn the candles at both ends. The university may tolerate it as long as he makes the grade, but I won't."
"Eh, he's just a kid, Mr. Briefs. Cut him a little slack. I remember the few parties I got to go to in college with my girlfriends, and we made an awful lot of awesome memories."
"The brat's not going to a few parties, woman. He's going out every night binge drinking and screwing anything that moves," Vegeta snapped, his voice dripping with disapproval. "I would have thought a son of mine would have more respect for himself than that."
Usagi blinked and stared at him. "Well, I'll never accuse you of holding to the double standard," she replied in wonder.
Vegeta chuckled at that. "Oh, no, woman. Be glad I never had a daughter. I would have been snapping necks the moment she reached the age of sixteen. I only hold my son to the standard I would expect of someone of his… status." A prince of Vegeta-sai, but Vegeta wasn't going to blurt that out. "He's well respected, and always in the public eye. He should conduct himself with a little more decorum."
Usagi couldn't help but admit that Vegeta was right; Trunks's partying had died down a notch in the last few months, but since he'd returned home he was out almost every night. "I'll talk with him," she offered softly. "If that's alright with you. This is the sort of conversation that doesn't need yelling."
"And how would you handle it?" Vegeta snorted. He'd only tried for a few years to pound it into his son's head that his body was a temple and should be properly maintained. That didn't mean he should totally abstain from sex and alcohol, but there was such a thing as too much of it.
Usagi smiled up at him and winked. "I'll guilt him into being a good boy. I'm sure a few hints about you being worried, and a statement about what his mother would think would be more than sufficient to do the job."
"I am not worried," Vegeta snorted.
"You are so full of shit your eyes are turning brown. Besides… it's pretty easy to see that you don't get worried easily… or you don't show it at least. I think just a 'Trunks, you're father even seems worried about you' will be more than enough to make the little puppet dance to our tune."
Our tune? Vegeta nearly laughed at that, and still found himself smirking as he realized that Usagi would be just as much of a puppet master in this instance as he would. Well, at least they were both getting what they wanted out of it. "Kami, woman. And I thought I was the great king of manipulation."
"Nope. Meet the queen, Mr. Briefs. I used to act like I was going to cry when Trunks was little, whenever he'd start being bad. I can play that boy like a well-tuned instrument, just you watch," she replied smugly.
"That was during that… acting out phase, wasn't it?" Vegeta rumbled, feeling a pang of guilt for not being a better father right after Bulma's death. But he'd been too shocked by it, and had flown into a rage after Shenron had refused to bring her back due to the death being of natural causes. He'd disappeared for a couple months, and when he'd returned, Usagi had taken Bulma's place in a way. He'd ignored it then, and for years afterwards, but over the last few weeks he found himself recalling all the little extra things she did for them all that normally would only be done by his mate. "Trunks… he sees you as a mother, I think. At least as close to one as—"
"No, Mr. Briefs. I've never tried to replace his mother, and I'm not about to start. Ever. I'm a colleague, an employee, maybe even a friend. But I've—"
"I know you never tried to act like you're a replacement for Bulma," Vegeta snapped quietly. "I was merely saying that he looks up to you. He values your opinion, and he cares about you. Not that I ever paid any attention, but I'm fairly sure that you were the one he ran to whenever something bothered him."
Usagi blushed and looked away; it was true, what he was saying. She'd only been nineteen when Bulma had died, but as Bulma's secretary, a lot of the things going on in the company had fallen into her lap. Schedules, delegation of the staff, etc. She was the only one that had known the ins and outs of the company at the time, and Trunks had been far too young to take the reins.
And when Bulma had died, she was the one member of the household who had been a constant for Trunks; anytime he'd come to see his mother, Usagi had been there, usually with a cookie or a piece of candy for the boy. So Trunks had attached himself to Usagi at the hip right after the funeral, and whenever he'd gotten into trouble, or fought with Goten, she'd been the person he'd run to, she'd been the one that had held him while he'd cried. And when he'd left for college, Usagi had secretly felt like she was saying goodbye to her own child.
And since he'd left three years ago… "Trunks and I don't talk like we used to," she confessed softly. "I think it's just part of him growing up, Mr. Briefs. Which is good in a way… it means that he doesn't need me as a crutch anymore."
Vegeta wasn't fooled by the sadness in her eyes. She felt like she was losing him, but she wasn't Trunks's mother, and she would never voice that opinion. It would be… unprofessional. He huffed a little at the thought and tried not to hug her, give her some comfort. "You helped raise him after Bulma died," he finally said. "You're more than just a crutch, woman. And you can probably talk some damned sense into him. I'm going to bed," Vegeta said flatly, feeling uncomfortable with the look of gentle gratitude in her eyes.
"Night, Mr. Briefs," Usagi said softly, "and thank you. For everything today. I appreciate it." He didn't reply, but Usagi couldn't stop the smile on her lips if she tried when he actually stopped and grabbed his pile of clothes without her even asking him to.
Don't worry, UltBlonde… soon. Soooooon… But not in the next chapter either! Bwahahahaha…
