Bulma covered her mouth with her hand to hold back her yawn. She stretched her arms above her head before grabbing her cup. She walked to the kitchen to fill it with coffee. Last night hadn't exactly been filled with sleep. And it wasn't only because of what had happened when Vegeta came to bed; she had had a hard time to fall asleep at first too.

She had been looking out of the windows in the living room when the rest of the people in the house had gone to sleep, starring at the GR for ten minutes or so before walking up the stairs… alone. Then she had taken a long, soothing bath… alone. Then she had got under the sheets… alone. Then she had tossed and turned under the sheets… alone. She had slept for approximately an hour or less when she had woken… alone. But then she had heard it: the sound of water running in the bathroom.

She had been wide awake and fought the urge to run into the shower with him. Bulma still had no clue why she had felt such an urge for him; it had already begun when he had gone to the GR after lunch. When she had seen him walk into the living room before dinner she had hidden in the study and run to the bathroom to splash some water in her head when she knew he would be in the bathroom; otherwise he would have been able to smell how much she wanted him. It wouldn't have been the first time he would comment on it…

Bulma got into the kitchen and sighed when she was met by a cold pot of coffee – she must have turned it off by fault last time she had taken a cup. She poured out the cold coffee and made some new while holding back several yawn.

"Tired dear?" her mother chippered when she came into the kitchen.

"No…oooh." Bulma's response was interrupted by a yawn and Mrs. Brief began to chuckle.

"Vegeta got some more training during the night?" Bulma tried desperately to catch the cup but watched it break at the kitchen-floor; she had dropped it in surprise by her mother's question.

"Mum!" she yelled and jumped backwards to make sure she wouldn't step on one if the pieces. "What's gotten into you lately?"

"Nothing dear," her mother said and found a dustpan to clean the mess at the floor.

Bulma took the dustpan from her and sent her mother an annoyed glare. "I know what you're trying to do. Stop it."

"What do you mean sweetie?" Mrs. Brief tried to look hurt, but her eyes were dancing with laughter.

"Stop," Bulma repeated and began to sweep the pieces into the dustpan. She got up from the floor and walked to the bin.

"Oh but dear, I have no idea what you're talking about." Mrs. Brief said in an innocent voice.

"Yes you do, and stop it!" Bulma smashed the lid down on the bin and put the dustpan in place with greater force than necessary.

Mrs. Brief chuckled and found a new cup from the cupboard. She poured some of the fresh coffee into it and gave it to her daughter. "Sorry sweetheart," she said, "I'll stop."

Bulma took a sip of the coffee and send her a half smile before she left the kitchen. At least her mother hadn't said what she was hinting to… With a house full of saiyans it was never easy to know when you could talk without someone heard something they shouldn't.

When she got into the living room she saw Trunks with his hand down his Christmas stocking. He seemed to stop all movements before he slowly turned his head towards her. The look in his eyes made it seem like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. He sent her an apologetic smile and took the present up from the stocking.

"Trunks, I know you've been taking your presents," she said and walked to her son, "I can see when there's something in the stocking and when it's empty." She sat down next to him in the couch and put her cup down at the table. "You know, even though I'm not even one percent saiyan I can use my eyes." Bulma laid her arm around his shoulders and smiled when he looked at her.

"I actually like the gifts, but I don't want dad to know." He looked down at the small package.

"Why not?"

"He might get mad at me. I…" He looked at her once again with uneasy eyes. "I'm always kinda afraid he's gonna get mad at me."

Bulma felt her heart clench. It was hard to hear her son express such great insecurity in his relationship with his father. "He might get mad," she said, not wanting to lie to him. "But believe me when I tell you, your father has his reasons. It's not your responsibility to know those reasons or act to avoid those situations. You have to come to me or grandma if you get sad because of something with your father, okay?" Trunks tried to look tough, but his eyes shone with ease and insecurity. "Your father's actually very proud of you, I've told you before, right? He just wants to raise you like he believe a proper man and saiyan has to be raised. It's tough, but it's his weird way of showing he cares."

Trunks sent her a small smile before he suddenly jumped down from the couch. He ran out of the room and moments later Vegeta came in. His left eyebrow was raised but he didn't say anything. Bulma on the other hand, had no intention of keeping quiet.

"GR, now," she growled and walked past an even more puzzled and now scowling Vegeta. When she got into the former spaceship she turned around and looked at her husband, arms crossed in front of her.

"What?" he grunted and folded his arms too, mimicking her stand. Actually she had begun mimicking his signature-stand years ago, but that had nothing to do with the current matter.

"You have to do something about Trunks," she huffed.

"What's wrong?" His brow was raised again.

"He hasn't said this directly to me, but as his mother I can tell it by his way of speaking: He's afraid you don't think he's good enough. He actually told me I'm always afraid he's gonna get mad at me." She pointed at him with her right index finger and tried to keep her anger fueled. If not she would start crying. Lack of sleep had that effect on her. "When he was sick he was looking away from you, because he was afraid you would think he was weak! Have you ever told him you're proud of him?"

Vegeta was about to say something, but she held her hand up to stop him. He began to look mad, but he let her continue.

"I know you did it when you send him and Goten away from Buu, Piccolo told me so."

"Freaking namekian," he huffed, but she continued.

"It was four years ago! Have you showed him any kind of affection since then?"

"I've tried!" Bulma took a step back in pure surprise by his outburst. A vein was popping at his temple. "But I can't just change my way, woman," he snarled. "We've been married for a decade, how many times have you heard me tell you I love you? And saiyans are way more intimate with their mates in expressing feelings than with their offspring, so don't think I can just tell the brat I'm proud of you." His head was read and it looked like the vein was about to pup.

Bulma bit her bottom lip and looked down. "I'm sorry Vegeta," she said and actually meant it. "I… I know, but I just… I'm sorry." She felt the first tear form in the corner of her eye and removed it angrily. "I guess I might overreact. It just hit me when he told me that." She looked up at him and he was to her big relief looking calmer. "I don't want to change your way, I just want our son to know how much you care for him like I know."

Vegeta's face softened a bit. He nodded but didn't say anything. Bulma walked to him and looked him in the eyes.

"You've actually told me you love me more times than I thought you would," she admitted and laid her hand at his chest.

He pulled her into a sweaty embrace, but she didn't care. This was her husband. "What did you say?" she asked when he whispered something into her hair.

"Nothing."

If Bulma had been able to hear like a saiyan, she would have heard him say: "I love you."

I don't know if I got too softie at the end… But that's what Christmas do to you, right?