A/N: I don't own DBZ or the characters, that honour belongs to Akira Toriyama. I use British English spelling.

Bulma stood outside Vegeta's door. She knew the rest of her family thought Vegeta was out of line, but she saw his face when he said she'd nearly died. He might not have saved her, but she didn't think it was because he didn't care. His expressions were hard to read, especially since so many were different from humans, but she could read him better than anyone else on Earth. The incident with Dr Gero had upset him, she knew it.

She knocked on his door, but as expected, he didn't answer. She opened the door anyway, then walked in.

Vegeta lay on his bed, on top of the covers. His arms were crossed behind his head and he stared blankly at the ceiling, not moving a muscle when she entered. He already had a couple of books on his nightstand, but other than that the room was barer than it had been the last time he'd stayed.

"Can we talk?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta let out a huff of air, and stayed silent.

Bulma just waited, leaning against the doorway. She recognised this mood of his. He'd fallen into it often enough while he was staying with her, and she knew there wasn't much that would bring him out of it.

"I didn't think Frieza himself could stop you talking when you wanted to," Vegeta finally said. He turned his head to look at her. "What do you want to say that hasn't already been said?"

Bulma sighed. He always made things so difficult. "I don't want you going off into that chamber when we are…" She waved her hands to gesture at him, and then her. "…like this."

Vegeta groaned, then sat up, swinging his legs off the bed so he faced her, but then leaned forward, hands on his knees so he was looking at the ground. "There isn't anything either of us could say to fix what's broken between us."

"I know you're angry. I am too. But-"

"Angry?" Vegeta looked back up. "Angry doesn't even… you took an infant to a battleground. You put yourself and our son in the line of fire."

Bulma's breath hitched as she realised that was the first time Vegeta had referred to Trunks as their son, not hers.

Vegeta wasn't finished though. "On top of that, you copied my chip. Forget all the reasons I didn't want to stay on Earth. Even if there had been a part of me that…" Vegeta stared at her, his dark eyes wide. "I trusted you. I never trust anyone. And you…"

"That's not fair!" Bulma grit her teeth. This Saiyan was the most ungrateful man she'd ever met. "You were sick Vegeta. I was afraid you were dying. I needed to find anything I could to help you."

"You must have copied the files before I got sick!" Vegeta stood up and his ki rose, lighting the room with a purple aura.

Bulma shrank back, startled by the brilliant light. His muscled chest rose and fell with as he took deep breaths, and the light slowly faded.

"I gave you access to those files to help you,' Vegeta said. "Not so you could invade my privacy. You had no right to do that. None at all."

"But-"

"There is no 'but', Bulma!" Vegeta slammed his fist down on the nightstand beside him, cracking it in half and sending the books flying so they landed in front of Bulma.

"Oh, you are one to get high and mighty about doing the right thing!" Bulma picked up one of the books that had fallen and threw it at him. Of course, the jerk caught it with one hand.

"Don't test me, woman," he said through gritted teeth.

Bulma let out a cry of frustration and threw another book at him, which again he caught. "You're planning on abandoning your son, Vegeta. If you're wanting to win the universe's shittiest father award, you must be the top contender, because you're doing a fucking fantastic job!"

"Is everything alright?" A stiff voice came from the doorway.

"Get out!" Bulma and Vegeta yelled in unison.

Bulma turned to see her son - the older version - standing in the doorway and surveying the damage to the room. Bulma sucked in a breath and unclenched her hands, wincing as the release of pressure made the indents where her nails had been cutting in sting. "We're fine Trunks," she said in a softer tone. "Your father and I are just… uh… clearing the air."

Vegeta snorted. "Is that what you call it here?"

Bulma threw him a sharp glare. "What do you call it on your planet, oh Prince of all Saiyans"

Vegeta cocked his head and set his predatory gaze on her. "On my planet, you'd be dead for your insolence."

Trunks let out a hiss and stepped into the room. Cursing under her breath, Bulma blocked Trunks from entering. "I was leaving anyway. Come on Trunks, are you hungry? How about make something to eat?" She took Trunks by the elbow, dragging him out the door after her. She threw Vegeta one last glare, then shut the door behind her.

"He's dangerous," Trunks said in a low voice as they headed down the hall. "I felt his ki. He could have killed you."

"Vegeta wouldn't hurt me. Not on purpose - not even in anger." She looked sideways at her grown up son. "How much your mother tell you about him?"

Trunks frowned. "Hardly anything. I thought it was because it was too painful to talk about, but now I think she just didn't want to tell me the truth." He looked down at his shaking clenched fists. "He's a monster."

Bulma stopped in her tracks. "Don't say that about him."

Trunks looked at her, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "He didn't lift a finger to help you when Dr Gero nearly killed you. The way he speaks to you… Why are you defending him?"

"He's not a monster," Bulma said sharply. "He's a stubborn ass, and maddening, and his moral compass is all kinds of fucked up…"

"You're not helping his case here," Trunks said, shaking his head.

"Your father is also exceptionally intelligent, and when he's not brooding, has a surprisingly good sense of humour." Bulma laughed sadly, remembering the dry comments he would make so unexpectedly. "He's brave to the point of stupidity, and when he is focussed on a goal he is the most dedicated man you will ever meet."

"You love him." Trunks frowned, a puzzled expression that looked like Vegeta when he didn't understand an Earthling reference.

"Yes."

"None of that excuses his behaviour."

"No, it doesn't." Bulma sighed, wondering how much to say. Alternative universe Bulma hadn't told Trunks anything, and she probably had her reasons. "Vegeta doesn't understand kindness because he never experienced it. He had a… rough childhood."

"I had a rough childhood," Trunks snapped. "My world has been destroyed by androids, remember?"

"Oh sweetheart." Bulma reached up and touched her son's cheek. "I'm not saying that the way your father has been acting is ok, but don't judge him for things you can't possibly understand."

Trunks pulled away angrily, and stomped down the hallway. Bulma sighed. How were those two going to survive in the chamber? Chances are one of them would kill the other before the end of it.

He found himself unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning. That wasn't unusual for him, but this time it was because he'd been tracking Bulma's ki for the last three hours. She'd remained in the kitchen without moving for the last twenty minutes. What was she doing?

She was upset. He could tell from her ki, which buzzed with slight fluctuations. He knew it was his fault - the things he'd said to her since he'd got back might have held some elements of truth to them, but he'd fired them like ki blasts aimed for the heart, knowing exactly how to word them for maximum impact.

He sat up with a sigh. He couldn't lock himself in the chamber for a year with her like this. It might only be a day for her, but he'd stew on it for the whole year. It would break his concentration, distract him from his training.

That was his excuse, at least, as he pulled on a t-shirt and sweat pants then made his way to the kitchen.

She looked up from her container of ice cream when he entered. They both froze - her with her mouth open and the spoon hovering near it, and him with his hand still on the handle.

When she blinked slowly, then continued eating, Vegeta found his feet could move again so he closed the door behind him and walked over. He sat in the barstool next to her, feeling the heat of her gaze, but unwilling to look back at her for fear of losing what little willpower he had left.

Silently, Bulma pushed the container of ice cream and the spoon towards him. Vegeta took the spoon and had a taste, grimacing at the overwhelming sweetness. He hadn't eaten anything this sweet since before he left Earth.

Bulma laughed and too late he forgot his resolve to avoid her gaze, and looked up. She shook her head and took the container back eating some and then licking the spoon slowly, all while staring at him.

He'd made a mistake coming down here. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pick up her light body, press her against the wall and make her forget what a terrible person he was by making her scream his name until her throat hurt.

She knew it too. He could tell from the cheeky glint in her eye. He could smell arousal rising on her as well. She leaned towards him and shit… he had to do something to stop this or he'd lose himself.

"I heard what you said to the boy," he blurted out.

Bulma pulled back, her brow creasing in puzzlement.

"After you left my room," he clarified. "Trunks thinks I'm a monster and you, apparently, do not."

"He's wrong," Bulma said, laying a hand on Vegeta's. "You are not a monster."

"But he's right," Vegeta said, pulling his hand away. "The man you think I am doesn't exist."

Bulma sighed and stood up. She went to the cupboard and pulled out a small container. When she sat back down next to Vegeta, she handed it to him.

"I know you are worried about spending a whole year in there," she said. "These will help with the headaches."

Vegeta looked at the bottle of pills. Some sort of migraine medication according to the label. "I assume you translated the medical records I left you."

"Yes."

"Then you know that as far as side effects go, headaches are the least of my worries." He put the pills in his pocket anyway, earning a smile from Bulma.

"After this is over… once Cell is defeated," she said, "I think I can help, if you let me."

"How?" Vegeta stared into her blue eyes, which widened under his gaze.

"I don't know yet." Bulma reached out and took his hand again. "I'd need to run some tests on you."

This time, Vegeta didn't pull away. "I don't think even a genius like you could reverse the damage that's been done to me."

"Oh, so I'm a genius now? I thought I was an idiot."

Vegeta snorted. "It baffles me, but you somehow manage both so well."

"Either way, shouldn't we try?" She squeezed his hand and leaned in closer. "Think about it at least. You have a year, after all."

"It won't work," he said, his voice cracking. He wanted nothing more than what she was saying to be true, but he knew the truth about himself. "It's not just the experiments. I'm just… broken."

"You're not beyond repair, Vegeta." She reached up and traced his jawline with her fingers. "And I know what you've been doing. You are so scared of hurting me that your hurting me to push me away. It's very counterproductive."

Vegeta laughed and shook his head, but Bulma cupped his face in both her hands.

"Don't push me away," she whispered. "Don't let what was done to you ruin the rest of your life."

He breathed her in, leaning into her caress. She didn't move as he inched closer, closing the gap between them, so he kissed her, unable to stop himself. She tasted of the strawberry ice cream, but on her the sweetness was less abrasive.

Vegeta stood up, pulling Bulma with him and knocking their barstools over. He began guiding her backwards towards the door with a vague idea of taking her to a bedroom. Her back hit the door and Vegeta pressed himself into her. When she moaned and writhed against him, Vegeta knew they weren't going to make it to a bedroom. His hands started searching for the tie of her dressing gown in an attempt to remove the layers of clothes between them.

Bulma made a muffled sound of agitation against his lips and Vegeta pulled back, breathing heavily.

She parted her red lips and glared at him, silent for a moment. "I'm still angry at you," she said slowly.

"Likewise," he replied.

Bulma stayed silent and still for a moment, but then smirked and tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt, manoeuvring it upwards.

"This doesn't change anything," Vegeta said. He pulled the shirt over his head, then dipped his head to find her collarbone with her lips.

"Not a thing," Bulma murmured her agreement as she traced the muscles on his stomach with her fingers. "You, your highness, are still a jerk."

Vegeta's hand found the tie to her silk dressing gown and he pulled it, letting it fall open to reveal her short nightdress. He pushed both garments off her shoulders until they fell to the floor, revealing all of her. "And you are still an idiot."

"A genius idiot," Bulma corrected with a gasp as Vegeta pressed his lips to the dip in her chest.

"Indeed." He chuckled against her skin, then started trailing kisses downwards.

While he knew he would reach his ultimate goal and have her screaming his name by the end of the night, Vegeta had the distinct feeling that he had lost this battle.

For once, he didn't care.

A/N: So they've kissed and made up (sort of)! But will it last? I hope you enjoyed this chapter - writing them arguing is always so much fun.