I'm sorry it's been so long. This chapter was hard to write. The next one probably will be too. So feedback will definitely be encouraged. Anyways, I hope you all are well and are still enjoying this story, I'm getting to the good stuff, so I need to remember not to get so caught up in these weird, in-between chapters.

Last time you all saw Bulma, she was tranquillized by Vegeta and Chaps. Let's see how well this played out. xD

When Bulma came to hours later, her temples were throbbing painfully.

"Ughhh…my – my head…," she uttered, but when she went to touch it, she found herself bound in restraints, unable to freely move her arms and legs. She was also able to parse through her daze that she was in her father's lab, and that she was laying on his examining table. Her new tail laid next to her on the table and, try as she might, she couldn't really move it about.

She sighed internally.

They at least managed to clothe her, giving her a medical gown to wear, along with about ten cords lining her head, arms and chest. She felt a heavy strap against her forehead and she realized that this was where most of her pain was coming from.

She felt like one of her father's medical experiments, and it felt strange being the one on the table for once.

"What the fuck…," she groused, squinting at the bright lights above her head as she tested her eyes.

"Language, Bulma," her father chided. He wasn't looking at her but was focused on the computer monitor in front of him, which currently displayed the various scans and diagrams of the inside of Bulma's head.

Bulma looked around and found her father. Standing next to him with his arms crossed was none other than Vegeta. What an unlikely pair – her father and the Saiyan prince. They were both facing away from her, illuminated by the images on the bright screen.

She wondered what could have possibly convinced them to work together on her without so much as a gripe…

And that bastard probably had my father sedate me. Damn him, that hurt, she thought back angrily to the tranquilizer darts they shot her with.

She remembered the moments before she collapsed in his arms - all the heated emotion she felt at being cornered like an animal and then to turn around and be tranquillized like one seconds after. It had her balling her fists in frustration, her blood freshly boiling at the notion that her freedom was being withheld from her once more. She started to fight her restraints, feeling the leather straps snap and give way with her new strength. It made her feel good so she kept pulling, able to maneuver her limbs more easily in the straps. Unfortunately for her, she was under scrutiny.

"Stop," she heard Vegeta tell her, "Those are just to hold you in place temporarily. You don't know your own strength yet. We don't need you testing that here, so stay still."

He came to stand beside her and watched for any sudden movements. He kept his gaze on her as she narrowed her eyes.

"Bet you feel pretty damn good about yourself right now, don't you?" she spat at him, full of pent up aggression.

He could tell she was ready for that rage to be released on something – or someone. But she would simply have to wait.

"You'd like to think that, Bulma, but circumstances have pulled me away from my training – yet again. So, the sooner we have you go back to normal up there in that thick skull of yours, the better," he smirked.

"I don't know my own strength – is that what you said? Well, with the way you two treated me, I'm very tempted to try it out anyway," she warned, feeling surly and unwilling to listen to reason at the moment.

"Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be, woman. If you don't cooperate, we will have to put you back under until your father finishes what needs to be done," Vegeta chastised, glaring at her for her defiance.

Vegeta wasn't even going to try to talk with her through their bond unless he wanted her to freak out and abandon reason completely. He could only sense the anger she was unwittingly sending his way and grit his teeth with having to be bothered with this in the first place.

"I have to put her back under now regardless - her neural channeling is almost complete. Keep her still for me, will you?" Chaps asked, and Vegeta obliged, holding her head carefully as Dr. Briefs prepped the anesthetic.

Realizing what was about to happen, she tried to pull away from the Saiyan's grasp.

"No – NO!" Bulma screamed, beside herself as she felt the prick of the needle go into her neck and her father inject her, once more putting her to sleep against her will.

She felt her eyes droop and, as she slipped back under, she vaguely felt Vegeta stroke her hair before everything faded.

While she drifted below consciousness, she heard a loud snapping, like something was lining back into place with immense force. She felt it and it hurt her greatly before the pain dulled, becoming nothing more than a minor annoyance. She lost any concept of time as she floated in the haze of her induced sleep. It could have been minutes or hours that went by when Bulma finally regained consciousness, it made no difference to her.

She felt herself sleeping peacefully at that point, and it was when she found herself again through the haze of anesthetics that she heard the voices above her, discussing matters amongst themselves.

Bulma's eyelids felt as though they were weighed down with lead, so she chose to listen instead of interjecting.

"Has she woken up yet, Vegeta?"

"Her eyes are still closed, but I felt her stirring."

"Boy, oh boy, is she ready to pick a fight with you," Chaps whistled. "You reckon her memory returns and she still feels the same way…how are you going to go about your relationship? Will you continue to treat her like a human, or will you consider her Saiyan?" Bulma heard her father ask.

"Just because she doesn't remember the past couple of months, doesn't negate the fact that we are bonded. That will never be broken, so long as we both are living. I will treat her as though she is both because I consider her now both Saiyan and Human – I must. It's what makes sense," he decided, shaking his head.

Bonded? Me and Vegeta are bonded? Oh yeah…I vaguely remember him biting me the night of my mother's banquet-

Bulma had to stop her recollection, as the pain rose sharply any time she tried to breach the wall of what held her recent memories. She could feel she was making progress though, because she was able to retain more information.

Chaps gave a small shrug and tapped in some commands on his keyboard. He turned and gave Bulma's forehead a rub, then used his electrode pen to give her several tiny shocks along her hairline.

"Are you upset at her choice as well?" Vegeta asked quietly.

Chaps didn't answer the question immediately, as he was distracted with his work.

"Hand me that tool…no, not that – yes that one. Thank you," Bulma heard her father tell Vegeta. She could feel things moving around her head, and then the weight was lifted, making her feel even better than before. She sighed audibly.

"It was her choice," Chaps answered after some consideration. "Whether or not you and I accept it, she does what her mind is set on, and she won't stop until it's complete or it's hers. She's wired like that."

Damn right I am, Bulma thought again. I chose to become a Saiyan and I just know it will be worth it…

"Hmph. So, this device will fix her memory, correct?" she heard Vegeta ask, changing the subject.

"Well, I'm betting my psychology and mechanical engineering degrees on this procedure working - how's about that for reassurance?"

"Fine, fine." Vegeta kept his arms crossed as he watched his wife in what appeared to be sleep. Little did he know she was wide awake, working hard on piecing together all the information that was flooding back into her memory.

"Were you able to get in touch with Galactic Patrol?" Chaps idly conversed as he went back to his computer.

"Not yet. Bulma's sister said to give her 48 hours for them to give her an official response."

"Good. Tights is a fantastic intergalactic liaison. I'm sure we'll have the status on planet Vegeta soon enough."

Planet…Vegeta? My sister? Wow, they have been busy lately. I'm sure they'll fill me in when I can finally keep my eyelids open, Bulma thought miserably, tired of being out of the loop and even more tired of being put to sleep.

"When are you going to formally add yourself to our family, Vegeta?"

Bulma's heart skipped a beat.

"As long as it takes for her to wake up and remember the past couple of months, Chaps," Vegeta stated as if it were obvious.

"You know how to ask her now, don't you?"

Bulma heard Vegeta grunt with irritation, and she could just imagine the reddening of his cheeks. What she wouldn't give to see Vegeta's facial expressions during this conversation…

"One knee? With the ring?" Vegeta asked with a notable level of discomfort.

"Precisely. Just like I told you. We'll hold a moderate ceremony for you both, and I'm sure she will appreciate any effort you manage to put into doing this for her, son."

"Ugh. That idiot ex of hers did the same act of 'proposing'. It looked ridiculous - and downright undignified. Why can't I just ask her instead of groveling at her feet?" Vegeta groused as he remembered that weakling in his own proposal, noting how pathetic he looked and he wanted nothing to do with how Yamcha courted his woman.

"'Undignified'? Quite the contrary. It is an act of reverent respect to bend one's knee to a future spouse. You are asking her to assume a role that is one of the most important positions you could ask for in a woman's life. Her equal – her 'other half', if you will. This is an esteemed position here on Earth, as mating probably is for you on your home planet. To request her decision in such a manner shows the severity of your dedication you will give to her. Men on this planet have adopted this practice over centuries. It's not uncommon," Chaps deliberated.

"Yes, well, if it shuts you all up and maintains her reputation on this silly planet, I suppose I will concede with this one courtesy," Vegeta huffed, clearly wanting an end to this conversation.

"That's all we ask. Thanks for doing it this way, Vegeta. And don't worry, we'll be sure you have top notch tech advancements to train with for a fitful wedding gift."

"Whatever. You had better hope I'm ready to defeat those androids after this is all said and done, Briefs. If you value your planet and your family, I really hope for your sake it will be enough."

"Of course. Our family is my main priority, I assure you."

"Good."

Vegeta, satisfied with the conversation, leaned in and gazed at his wife's beautiful features. He was already anticipating a return of her previous behavior, and hoping her father's work would be enough to fix her. He needed her back completely.

Please come back to me, the prince pleaded silently.

Chaps cleared his throat, ready to address his daughter and wake her from her artificial slumber.

"Bulma, dear. It's time to open your eyes. We need to ask you some questions."

"What - do you have an answer key, dad?" she answered immediately, startling the old scientist as he wasn't expecting her to rouse so quickly. Vegeta merely raised an eyebrow at her surliness, already sensing her level of consciousness moments before.

Chaps cleared his throat, "Your husband is the answer key," he told her as he quickly fixed his glasses on his nose. "Now quit your grousing, Bulma. We need to know if my treatment worked."

"You won't get an answer out of me so long as I'm still strapped like an animal to this damn table," she seethed, pulling at her tethers for effect.

Both men watched her warily and, as Chaps sighed, Vegeta went to unbind her from the straps.

When she was finally free, Bulma quickly sat up and shot a punch straight for the Saiyan's face.

His reflexes made him much faster than her so he instantly grabbed her fist and put it back down into her lap, which earned him a fierce glare from his fiery female.

He smirked at her and got in her face, putting his hands on both of her knees, "All in due time, mate. You'll get to work out your frustration and I get a sparring partner for this afternoon. Now, tell us - what do you remember?"

"Everything," she said simply, rubbing her freshly unbound wrists. She was still angry she couldn't hit him, so she kept her glower down in her lap, refusing to give him eye contact.

Vegeta froze and looked to Dr. Briefs. The old scientist's eyebrows shot up in surprise, though silently pleased his first attempt could be the last attempt.

Vegeta backed away from her and crossed his arms, "And yet you still want to hit me?" Vegeta questioned, cocking his head to one side.

"Yes. I still remember that I was tranqued, asshole, and I'm still pissed about it," she vexed.

"Fine. But what specifically do you remember, Bulma?" Vegeta pressed, wanting to get this over with so he could have things back to the way they were and spar with her in the GR. He really wanted to contribute with her recovery by helping her cope with her new attributes. But for now, the task was to fix her memories.

"Hm. Where do you want me to start?" she asked, picking at her medical dress, trying to distract her head with idle activity before she needed to think - and the pain would inevitably return.

"How about…what you think of Vegeta? That's a pretty good place to start, considering you didn't remember the evolution of your relationship," her father suggested while he ran another analysis on his computer, scanning data for errors.

Vegeta felt his face heat up and he frowned. This was about to get uncomfortable for him and he was already not looking forward to it.

Bulma put her finger to her lips as she thought, "He started out so grumpy and closed-off. He was such an asshole. We rarely had anything good to say to one another. But then we talked more, and spent more time together, and I realized there were things I liked more than I disliked about him."

"Oh, really, Bulma? You weren't exactly pleasant to talk to either," Vegeta hissed in his defense, feeling the need to voice his own thoughts.

"Just let me finish, will ya? Gosh – anyways," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, "I would listen to Vegeta and found that the way he said things to me was rude, but I got over it when I understood what he meant. And I realized I liked that. I also realized I paid a whole lot more attention to you when we got closer – like how you like your coffee sweet – three sugars, two creamers. You like crime dramas. You love sparring with someone, either physically or vocally. You love Earth sunsets, your favorite color is ocean blue. You miss your real home but you're comfortable on Earth. You go for swims to de-stress. You love my mother's cooking. And I can say with utmost certainty that you love me, whether you want to admit it out loud or not."

As she finished, she looked straight at Vegeta, holding his eye contact as his scowl grew deeper, his cheeks redder.

Embarrassment was evident on both of their faces, but Bulma didn't care.

"Woman – must you say those things in front of your father…honestly," he growled, crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

She giggled, even though her temple throbbed angrily, "You boys asked me what I remembered and what I thought about you – is it enough?"

Her father cleared his throat. "Almost, although that was a great start. What project were you working on after the Gravity Room was finished and the bots became obsolete?"

Bulma let out an irritated huff as she grew impatient. "Is that one necessary? I invented sturdier training bots that I later called drones, one of the most notable advancements I've made to date. State-of-the-art, durable, and ready to take on an angry, full-blooded Saiyan," she smirked and Vegeta returned it.

Chaps tapped away on his computer keyboard as he notated her progress.

"Okay, now I need you to examine your tail. Before you blacked out, Vegeta mentioned you looked at your tail and it triggered a negative emotional response, so let's try to see if acknowledging that new tail will cause the same reaction. Here's to hoping it won't…," Chaps finished, crossing his fingers for effect.

Bulma did as he requested and felt for her tail. As she held it in her hands, stroking the blue fur back and forth, something made her feel uncomfortable about handling it in that way. She looked to Vegeta, as if to silently question what was going on and he cleared his throat and pointed down to his own tail that was wrapped around his waist. She took the hint and wrapped it back around herself, glancing up to see his cheeks were beet red.

That was weird, she thought.

Vegeta briskly walked over to Bulma and took her hand, "Enough. I think it's safe to say she is fine now. I will take her to the GR and test her strength."

"Well, wait – do you feel better now, Bulma?" Chaps questioned.

"Aside from a splitting headache, sure. I could use a good tension release. And some Tylenol. Let's go, I'm ready. Thanks, dad," Bulma said, walking over to quickly hug her father before she made her way to the lab door to leave with the Saiyan prince.

"Sure thing, honey," Chaps said as he watched his daughter walk away, thinking in that moment about how much she'd grown as a young woman, while she walked side by side with her husband.

His daughter was still growing up, right before his eyes and as he returned to his computer, a fresh tear prickled in his eye.

"Oh, how the time can fly by," he said to no one in particular as he settled into his research once more.