"Have you ever lied to me?"
The question startled him and he opened his eyes to find Bulma next to him, observing the expanse of stars in the dark night sky. It was an unusually pleasant night, the temperature and thickness of the air evoking a tingling sensation somewhere deep inside of him. Almost like a memory he couldn't quite recall, couldn't quite bring back to life.
Next, to him Bulma shifted on her club-style patio chair, fully facing him now, her eyes full of expectancy while holding a cup of coffee. Only the gods knew how she could drink the foul beverage before going to bed.
His own eyes ventured to the stars mulling over her question. Had he ever lied to her? Vegeta had lived a life full of deception and lies, had mastered the art with such skill that he could even lie to himself without truly noticing. Lying to Bulma felt completely wrong though, almost as much as admitting it.
"What kind of question is that?"
Deflection. Another skill he had honed to perfection throughout his life. The woman shifted, pulling her legs up into the chair with her, the way her Ki flicked told him she was not amused by the game he was playing. In the silence that followed his curiosity won out, his gaze flicked back to her, trying to assess her next move. Bulma Briefs was never quiet. What he saw surprised him, her forehead was laid in deep contemplation, causing tiny wrinkles between her delicate brows.
"Did you even think about me? You know..." she waved her hand to indicate she was speaking about the incident earlier that day, "... how I would feel to lose you to some creepy copy-cat organism?!"
When her eyes snapped back up to meet his they blazed, an odd mixing of anger and hurt, and he was once again reminded of how Saiyan she could be. His gut twisted. Had he thought about her when the purple slime had stolen his powers? When had he slowly started to fade from existence? Vegeta remembered to look in Trunks eyes with startling clarity, the moment his hand went through his own, no longer a physical solid, teetering on the edge of vanishing.
A snappy remark was burning on the tip of his tongue, and as his eyes darted from the compound that held his sleeping son back to her blue oceans, he swallowed it. This wasn't the moment for deception or lies, there was a seriousness in her features that told him this transcended their usual banter. She needed to know because she truly did not know what deep down he could never deny her.
Her chair scraped loudly over the expensive stone tiles of the patio, dragging her chair towards him till it touched his knees, he leaned forward. Large tan hands grasping her face, thumbs stroking the shell of her ear as he leaned his forehead against hers. Vegeta couldn't recall if his own mother had ever done this with him, but with Bulma, it felt right. Like a deeply rooted instinct being soothed. Her legs had uncurled from their position on her chair and were now being placed in his, allowing her to pull herself closer.
As her hands grasped his wrists by her face Vegeta allowed his eyes to drift shut. His next words came surprisingly easy;
"Always, Bulma. Always."