Pre-notes:

~Kyogan-Saori: You are too kind, thank you! I'm loving your comments too. I wonder if Bulla would agree with them :P


"Bulla…" Trunks pleaded outside her door. "C'mon, you've barely left your room since yesterday. You need to eat something."

She didn't answer.

"Can I at least come in?"

"Fine," she mumbled into her pillow. Her voice sounded strange even to her own ears. She hadn't used it since she ran out of the control room the evening before and 'locked' herself in her suite. She wasn't really locked in, of course, because none of the doors on this ship had locks, but the boys seemed to be respecting her need for space regardless.

Keeping her face buried in her pillow, she heard the sound of her door sliding open, along with her brother's footsteps approaching her bed. The mattress dipped when he sat down next to her and let out a breath.

"Sit up," he said after a few quiet moments.

Once again, she didn't respond.

"Sit up," he repeated, nudging her arm.

"Why?" she croaked, throat painfully dry.

"Because I can't hug you while you're lying down."

She opened her eyes and saw him watching her with concern. Pressing into her palm, the heiress drew in her legs and mimicked his position, letting her limbs hang over the side of her cot while she sat next to him. Her hair was loose and dishevelled and she could feel it sticking to the side of her face.

Trunks wrapped an arm around his sister's back and pulled her towards him, giving her a gentle squeeze while he leaned his mouth into the top of her head. She lowered her lids once more, feeling her eyes beginning to sting.

Kami, am I ever going to stop crying? she silently berated.

"Do you feel like talking about it?" he eventually spoke up.

"Not really," she muttered. "I feel so pathetic sobbing over him like this. He's not even remotely worth it. I must look like such an idiot."

"Not to me," he whispered. "I know exactly what you're going through."

She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. Is he saying what I think he's saying?

"Trunks," she began. "Did Melody..."

He offered her a faint smile, but she could see the hurt in his eyes and it made her heart ache.

"It was different with us," he sighed. "But it still ended up going the same way."

"She had an affair?" she uttered in disbelief.

"I can never know for sure," he looked down to the floor. "But it doesn't really matter since she fell in love with someone else."

"Oh my God, Trunks," she frowned, keeping her eyes fixed on her brother. "I'm so sorry."

He let out a chuckle. "Now's not the time to go feeling sorry for me, Bulla. I'm meant to be here for you. And I am," he added. "Here for you."

She lifted her own arms to envelope his midsection. He didn't say another word, simply opting to hold her while she leaned her face into his shoulder.

After a few minutes, he turned his head to look down at her. "You know I love you, right?" he said softly.

The end of her mouth curled. "Of course you do," she sniffed. "What's not to love?"

"There she is," he grinned, rubbing his palm over her hair while he kissed her temple.

"I love you too, Trunks," Bulla whispered.

"Do you want me to kick his ass when we get back home?" he offered, pulling away and observing her while he waited for an answer.

At this, she almost let out a snort. "You know I can beat him up myself."

"Sure," he agreed, meeting her gaze playfully. "But it's the principle of the matter. He broke my baby sister's heart, so now he needs to feel some pain."

"He didn't break my heart," she poked him in the rib, feeling herself beginning to lighten up ever so slightly.

Another knock came at her door.

"Yeah?" Trunks called out.

It slid open, revealing a surprisingly serious looking Goten on the other side. "Bulma's on the line. She wants to talk to you," he said, keeping his attention on the oldest hybrid.

Trunks looked to Bulla, apparently waiting for her approval.

"It's okay, you can go," she nodded.

"You sure?"

She forced a weak smile, hoping to reassure him.

"Alright," he planted another kiss on her head before standing up and slipping past his younger counterpart.

Bulla could still sense Goten standing in the doorway watching her. Despite silently willing him to leave, she couldn't help but look up. His expression was softer than when he'd first shown up, and he seemed to have a lot racing through his mind. It hadn't missed the heiress' notice that the boys were remarkably quiet over the past day or so, despite Bulla herself being the one at the centre of the humiliation. From what she could tell, Goten spent most of his time in his room, only leaving to cook for himself and the prince and retreating as soon as they were finished eating. She couldn't even hear the sound of their voices through the ceiling like she had so many times before.

Is it just me, or is he taking this news surprisingly hard?

They continued to regard each other for a few moments before he finally let out a heavy breath and turned to leave.


By the second night, she was beginning to feel rather gross but still couldn't muster the effort to leave her room for anything more than a toilet break. Trunks had visited a couple of times, bringing a few things for her to nibble on every now and then, but she still didn't have much of an appetite. He reminded her to knock on his door if she needed anything, earning himself a modest smile from the heiress.

He can really be a sweetheart when he feels like it, Bulla mused lovingly. Or maybe it's just been the trip that's brought us together again after all this time.

She couldn't remember her brother ever showing this much attentiveness for any of her last dozen or so breakups though. Even when things ended with her 'first love' at sixteen, Trunks didn't so much as visit until two weeks later, and by then she'd already gotten over it. Moved on and found someone else to capture her attention.

Vaguely recalling her endless string of failed relationships only caused her to roll over and groan into the crack between her bed and the wall. I'm such a fucking lost cause, she chastised. Constantly going off with boys who are just trouble from start to finish. It's one of the reasons she thought things would be different with Reco. He was relaxed, easy-going and always down for a good time. It never even crossed her mind to suspect him of such a thing - he seemed too interested in chasing the next rush to squander his free time seeing girls on the side. She let out a sigh.

It was late, but she could hear Goten shuffling around his room - performing katas by the sounds of it. I've missed hanging out with him, she thought to herself, much to her own surprise. Who knew that six weeks into their trip, she'd find herself so fond of the goofy half-Saiyan, or his company? It didn't hurt that his cooking had helped keep her sane for a good chunk of this journey, as much as she avoided admitting it initially.

She flipped on to her back to stare at her ceiling. Ugh, I need to pee again. How is this possible? I would've thought I'd cried all the water out by now.

Reluctantly, she hauled herself up and dragged her feet to her door. She was only in her t-shirt and underwear, but her sense of shame was already at unprecedented levels, so partial nudity was merely a drop in the ocean at this point.

After flushing the toilet and washing her hands she gripped either side of the basin and stared at her reflection in the mirror above it. Kami, I look awful, she noted flatly. She hadn't brushed her hair in days and her face was a sunken, splotchy mess.

Tears started falling of their own accord, as was the new routine, and before she knew it, she was on the cold floor, sobbing into her knees while she squeezed at her roots, demanding to know when she'd stop feeling like such an emotional wreck.

The bathroom door whizzed open and she soon found warm hands gliding over her back as Goten crouched down next to her, saying something she couldn't quite make out and attempting to pull her to her feet.

Once she was standing, she immediately pressed her palms to his chest and cried into the back of her hands while he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his chin to the top of her head. One hand eventually travelled to the back of her head while the other offered soothing strokes along her back.

"I'm sorry, Bulla," he breathed into her hair. "I'm so so sorry."

After a few minutes, the wave passed and she felt herself stabilising, much to her own relief. Even when she thought she was feeling okay, her eyes just did whatever they wanted lately and suddenly, she'd be a convulsing puddle of tears.

When she eventually peeled herself off him, Goten brought his hands up to either side of her face, expression wrought with remorse. With a sniff, she offered a sheepish smile while she rubbed her red nose with the back of her hand.

Wordlessly, he pressed his lips to get forehead and held it there before wiping another escaped tear off her cheek.

Glassy blue eyes gazed up at warm, soulful brown ones. "Thank you," she whispered before padding out of the bathroom and returning to her suite.


On the fourth morning since they'd departed Ellis, Bulla finally talked herself out of her bed and shuffled towards the bathroom, fresh towel and a clean change of clothes in hand. She soldiered through the shower's assault, giving her body a much-needed scrub down, and allowed herself to simply enjoy some level of sensation against her skin.

She was tired of moping after him. The heiress knew he didn't deserve another second of thought, but that was certainly easier said than done. That fucking asshole, she growled to herself.

Once she was finished, she turned off the tap, rung out her hair and grabbed her towel, wrapping it around herself before she exited.

Goten was in the passage when she stepped out, looking at the diagnostics tablet. He glanced up when he saw her, offering a silent nod. She gave a faint smile in return and entered her room.

After sliding her t-shirt over her head and buttoning her pants, Bulla twisted her hair into a neat bun and returned to the passageway.

"Hey," Goten greeted, apparently still busy with whatever he had been doing earlier, but opting to give the heiress his undivided attention.

"What's up." She slipped her hands into her pockets, finding herself feeling annoyingly self-conscious.

"You hungry?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "I was about to get started on breakfast."

She gave a short nod. "I can help if you want."

He reared his head before offering a smile. "Really?" he almost chuckled.

"Sure," she shrugged, trying not to feel too offended at his surprise. "I want something to do."

Bulla followed him up past the ladder and towards the kitchen. He stopped at one of the cupboards and turned to face her. "Any requests?"

"I've been craving pancakes with whipped cream for weeks." She slumped her shoulders and bit the inside of her cheek. "But I'm guessing that's a tall ask?"

"Do you know how to make them from scratch?" He raised his brows, warm Son expression already helping lift her mood.

"Yeah, you get those milk shaped bottles that have the mix in them and shake them up, right?" she asked innocently.

At this he let out a hearty laugh.

"What?" she frowned.

"That's cute. Here, I'll teach you something new." Goten proceeded to pull out a collection of capsules from one of the draws, all neatly labelled - dairy, eggs, fish, poultry, pork, beef, grains, breads, pasta, rice, cereal, snacks, condiments. It went on and on. I love my mother, the heiress smiled to herself. She really does think of everything.

"We have all this food, and yet we've been eating eggs for breakfast nearly every day for a month and a half?" she glared at him accusingly.

"I like eggs," he smiled, letting her berating simply roll off him. "Now, we need milk, flour, butter, salt, sugar, baking powder. It probably wouldn't hurt to throw some eggs in there too." He looked up and gave her a tentative look which she responded to by rolling her eyes. "Along with some measuring cups, a whisk and a sifter."

Bulla gathered the ingredients and utensils, along with a large bowl to mix it all into. Following his instructions, she sifted the flour, added the rest of the dry ingredients and blended in the liquids while he got the stove ready.

"See those bubbles?" He pointed to the miniature craters that were forming while she stood there eagerly, spatula in hand. "That means you can flip it."

She slid her spatula underneath and took a peek. Sure enough, it looked ready so she tossed it over. "Oh my God, that smells so good," she murmured, eyes positively fixed on the contents of her frying pan.

"I'll start whipping the cream," Goten offered, pouring a rather generous amount into a tall shaker bottle.

Bulla swivelled around when she heard the strange repetitive thumping of said cream being shaken, watching him with a raised eyebrow and restrained smirk.

He gave her a wink, causing her to snort ungracefully. We're just as childish as each other.

Trunks climbed up the ladder, coming upon the scene of Goten furiously jerking his arm back and forth while Bulla watched in amusement.

"Finished?" the heiress asked. At that precise moment, Goten popped off the small cap and the buildup of air caused a bubble of cream to fly out, smacking Bulla right in the eye.

Her mouth fell open in shock as she speechlessly looked to her fellow hybrid. Goten returned her stunned expression before his shoulders began to shake. She couldn't help but smile too, soon beginning to feel an uncontrollable giddiness bubbling up inside. It didn't take long for her to erupt into full-fledged laughter, throwing her head back as she covered her mouth.

Goten guffawed emphatically, clutching his stomach while he leaned against the bench top. The heiress glanced at her brother, a notable curl at the end of his lip. Before long, he too let out a chortle, joining the younger halflings in their laughing fit while he approached the kitchen.

It felt like a lifetime since she'd felt this light.

Bulla wiped the cream out of her eye and licked her finger. "Delicious," she giggled.


"Too slow," Goten taunted, grinning at the two hybrids while they sat on the couch. "Try harder."

Bulla threw another skittle, which he ducked for and caught a bit too easily. Trunks tossed one immediately after to the dark-haired demi-Saiyan's right, forcing him to strafe rapidly, but he swallowed it nonetheless. Reaching for another handful of tiny drops, the heiress simply decided to begin pelting him with them.

"Hey!" he cried.

"This is way more fun," she grinned, upping the ante and flinging them even faster. Her brother seemed to like this new strategy and did the same. Soon their lounge was raining down with multi-coloured candy as Goten started to catch them and return fire.

"Ah!" Bulla squealed, grabbing a cushion to shield herself with while she continued to cast, popping the occasional red one into her mouth. Suddenly, skittles began to come in from her left - Trunks was no longer on her side. "Traitor!" Bulla declared, jumping off the sofa but keeping her padded shield.

"Sorry sis," he smiled, covering his face with his arms when she shot a few in his direction. "Every man for himself."

She made her way towards the kitchen benches for cover, knocking as many incoming missiles away with her pillow as she could. With her back pressed against the cupboards, she listened for the sound of their intergalactic warfare, covering her mouth while she suppressed her childlike giggles.

All of a sudden, all went quiet. She tilted her head towards the lounge, hoping to hear what was going on, but couldn't to pick up anything conclusive. Too late, she noticed an approaching shadow near her feet. Sharply turning her head, she realised another was coming from the other side. In no time, Trunks was gripping her ankles while Goten grabbed under her arms. She screamed and cackled simultaneously, kicking and wriggling wildly to free herself of their grasp while they carried her back to the lounge. After dumping her on the couch, both boys plunged their hands into their pockets and bombarded the heiress with hundreds of miniature sugary bullets. Her stomach was beginning to hurt, she was laughing so hard, tears streaming from her eyes.

"No fair, two against one!" she coughed, throat becoming hoarse. "Help." Finally, the assault slowed down as both boys flopped down either side of her, each catching their breath, all three wiping tears from their eyes. Bulla leaned her back into Goten's shoulder, plucked a skittle from between the sofa cushions and dropped it into her mouth as she closed her eyes and let out a large exhale. Goten lifted his arm and extended it across the spine of the couch, finding a few wayward skittles himself while Bulla rested the back of her head against his chest and pressed her feet into Trunks' thighs.

"Feel like watching something?" her brother suggested, breath still ragged. He began flicking through the selection.

"Yeah," Bulla exhaled. "I know it's late but I don't feel like going to bed yet. Also, who's going to eat all these skittles?" she questioned, rolling her head to take in the colourful mess they'd made.

"Goten," Trunks answered absently, making his choice. "Your feet are cold," he added, grabbing the throw that lived across the back of the couch and opening it across their three bodies.

"Cozy," she mumbled, letting out a yawn. "Although, you don't make the best pillow, Goten."

"Feel free to leave and go lie in your own bed anytime," he offered, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm fine here." She nestled further into him, feeling herself beginning to drift off.


An unfamiliar and yet obnoxiously loud siren blared on the eighth night, waking Bulla from her slumber. The ship's voice was making an announcement, sending all of her senses on a wild spiral. Flashing lights, monotonous voices, alarms. After a few failed attempts she managed to catch the full message.

"Report to central command immediately. Unidentified object discovered. Report to central command immediately. Unidentified object discovered."

Oh shit.

She jumped out of bed, slammed the button for her door and raced towards the control room. Goten and Trunks were already there, staring outside the main window near the console, both gazes fixed on the wide expanse. It seemed the others appreciated the sense of urgency as much as she had - all three were barely dressed. At this moment, Bulla was mildly relieved that she had made a habit of sleeping in her t-shirt since the night she was caught off guard by Goten before landing on Bhander. The aforementioned halfling was in nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs while her brother wore his baggy charcoal shorts.

"What's going on," Bulla asked, squeezing between them.

Goten pressed his palm to her shoulder and pointed into the nothingness.

"I don't-" Bulla gasped when she realised there was something small, way in the distance, coming from the left of their ship. "What is that?"

"There's more than one," was all that Trunks gave.

And there was.

Three tiny spheres, looking no bigger than the skittles they were throwing at each other two nights ago, travelling impossibly fast. Involuntarily, she held her breath when they got within what seemed like one hundred metres of their own vessel. Thank Kami for cloaking.

Now that they were so near, she was able to get a closer look at the pods. They were indeed remarkably compact. She couldn't imagine more that one person fitting in them at a time. Maybe they're not even fit for people? Maybe they're cargo pods or some sort of drone?

"Trunks," Goten voiced, keeping his eyes on the strange vessels.

"I know," her brother responded seriously.

The heiress looked to the dark-haired halfling, smelling the rising adrenaline that was beginning to pump through his bloodstream and leak through his pores. His jaw was tense and his fist was clenched. Shifting her attention to her brother, she noted that he didn't look all that different.

"What's happening right now?" she gulped, staring up at the oldest hybrid. "What are those things? And why do they look so much like one of mom's designs?"

"Because they are," he breathed.

What?

"I don't understand." Her pulse was beginning to climb. Bulla couldn't help but feel dread at the sight of her two fearless companions watching with such fixation.

"Mom used the designs of those ships as the foundation for every space exploration vessel the Capsule Corporation has ever made."

"So those are from earth?" she inquired hopefully, attempting to calm herself down.

"No," Goten answered, causing her heart to drum in her ears.

Her heart all but stopped when she finally got a sense of the energies radiating from the three miniature ships as they sailed past, leaving the three stunned half-Saiyans in their wake.

Whoever these travellers were, they were powerful. Very powerful.


"So how's Clara doing?" Bulla asked, face pressed to the cushioned eye-piece.

Roughly one day's travel from their next stop, Advent, Bulla was back in the navigator's seat, using the option of manual piloting as an opportunity to keep her mind off her, still raw, break up.

"Fine, I guess," Goten shrugged while he stood next to her, watching as she commandeered their vessel.

"I haven't spoken to her in a while," she continued. "Do you know if she ended up getting that part? I can't even remember the name of the movie now, was it, like, Hold the Line?"

"Something like that," he mumbled. "Not long now until we're back on solid ground. Trunks says this next place is nothing like what we've seen before."

"Really? How so?"

"Apparently it's incredibly wealthy," he answered, leaning his folded forearms over the back of her seat. "One of the civilisations that benefit from places like Ellis and Bhander, I guess."

"Ooh, I wonder what their nightlife is like," she grinned. What she wouldn't give to have an evening of letting loose. Trunks' rules could eat it - she needed this, and she'd be damned if she didn't take the chance to party like the whole freakin' universe wasn't coming to an end. Speaking of Trunks, she silently mused. "Have you noticed a change in my brother lately?"

"How do you mean?"

"Don't you think he's different? Sort of. Like, he's less… restrained?"

"Oh, like that?" Goten muttered, resting his cheek on his wrist. "Yeah, I've noticed. I don't think I've seen him laugh as much in the past few years as I've seen him in just the last few weeks."

"Well that's because you're constantly making a fool of yourself," Bulla giggled, pulling her face out to meet his gaze. "But even outside of that, he just seems... " she paused while she considered her words. "More relaxed, I guess? Like he's feeling more comfortable in his own skin or something. He's opening up more too."

"Why do you think that is?" He pulled a piece of fluff off the top of her head.

"I don't know," she pressed her finger to her chin. "But I like it."

Suddenly the screens that circled the heiress began to flash and ding. She turned to look at them, aquamarine eyebrows drawing together. "Oh no," she breathed. "Get Trunks." She swivelled her head back to Goten's in a panic. "Quick!"

Not wasting another second, he pushed off from her chair and dashed for the passage.

Returning her face to the eye-piece and gripping the steering wheel firmly. The ship lurched to the right when she made a sharp pull, tilting herself, and the rest of their ship almost ninety degrees. Trunks entered a moment later with Goten close behind.

"What's wrong?" he voiced, eyes wide.

"Asteroid field," she squeaked, beginning to fumble at her belt so she could swap places with her brother.

"What are you doing? Stay where you are!" he asserted. "Goten strap in."

"No!" she looked up hurriedly. "You need to get us out of this."

"You're already there, keep your eyes head," he pointed to the window.

The ship jerked once more and he grabbed the armrest.

"Trunks, I can't!" she cried. "Don't make me do this. I'll kill us all." Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to launch right out of her chest.

"No you won't," he told her calmly, staring right at her. "You can do this."

"Please," she begged, tears beginning to well.

Identical sets of blue eyes locked on to each other, both pairs searching the other. "Bulla," he said slowly. "I believe in you. You're a great pilot. Now get us out of here."

Time stood still, at least that's how it felt for the heiress in this very moment. After a painful swallow, she gave a nod, tapping some buttons on the rightmost display and flicking a few dials. Bulla took a deep breath and reapplied her fingers to the prongs of the steering wheel.

Let's do this.


Post-notes:

Thank you everyone for your interest, support and enthusiasm so far! You continue to amaze me with these incredible reviews too. Such a treat and highlight to my week.