Bulma placed a large bowl of chocolate ice cream, garnished with a generous helping of chocolate chips and whipped cream, in front of Trunks. It wasn't a meal his father would have approved of, but the elder Vegeta was in the chamber with Seria, she needed intel, and she was not opposed to bribery.

"So…" Bulma slid a spoon across the bench towards the boy. "How was your time in the chamber?"

Trunks accepted the spoon with glee and shrugged. "Fine." He started shovelling in ice cream so fast he was definitely going to get brain freeze.

"Did you have fun?"

Another shrug.

Bulma frowned. The usually chatty boy had been unusually quiet since returning. "Did you and Vegeta train together?"

"Sometimes."

Bulma sighed. Clearly, there was no point in beating around the bush. "Did Vegeta say anything about me in there?"

Trunks paused his eating, leaving his spoon hovering just in front of his mouth. A smirk crept into his face in a manner that was a mirror image of his father. "Ask Young Papa," he said finally, before diving back into his dessert.

Bulma let out a groan of frustration. Vegeta had disappeared the moment he was out of the chamber. And even if he hadn't, she was hardly going to ask-

"Ask me what?"

The low, gravelly voice made Bulma freeze. "I… uh…" Crap, he was here.

What she really wanted to know was if he'd thought about her and baby Trunks. If he had any plans after the Cell Games. If he had any interest in sticking around, or being a father, or being something to her.

"Are you eating here for dinner," she asked instead, "or at your house?"

"Uh…" Vegeta frowned, obviously puzzled.

Bulma knew he hadn't even been to his lake house since he'd got back from space. The moment he'd stepped out of the time chamber he'd gone straight to the gravity room, choosing to bunk in his old room here instead. Still, she smiled through her teeth as if she hadn't just asked a completely asinine question.

When she didn't elaborate, Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Is your mother cooking?"

Bulma took that as a rhetorical question. After all, her mother always cooked. "Okay, great. I'll… uh… make sure she makes enough food." She scuttled out of the kitchen hurriedly, telling herself it was because she didn't want to have that conversation in front of Trunks.

It definitely wasn't because she was scared of the answers.

Dinner had been an odd affair, with her mother doing most of the talking. Ara and Han declined to join them, and judging by the twinkle in Ara's eyes before she left the house, her arm locked with Han's, Bulma suspected they were making the most of a night without Seria.

Trunks still refused to say a word about what happened in the chamber, but he and Vegeta didn't seem to have any animosity towards each other. Since they both came out alive she could only assume it went well and that Trunks' silence had more to do with his nerves about the upcoming battle than anything else.

With such a short time left before the Cell games, Bulma threw herself into completing her own plans for defeating Cell. She and her father had gathered enough data about both the androids and Cell to make some marked improvements on the set of Saiyan armour she'd designed for Vegeta. She could only hope that between that and the training it would be enough.

Her father had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, but Bulma kept tinkering away until she was completely satisfied with their creation. At just after two in the morning, her final experiment yielded success against all artificial energy blasts. That would do for now. She could get one of the Z fighters to give it a final test later.

Bulma was too amped to sleep. She made her way to the main kitchen in search of a light snack, her bare feet padding across the cool tiles. Just before she got there, Bulma noticed light and soft sounds coming from one of the small sitting rooms off the hallway. She pushed the door all the way open but stopped abruptly as she saw a familiar figure, silhouetted against the bright lights of the television. Vegeta - the younger since his future counterpart was still training in the time chamber - sat on the grey two-seater sofa, leaning forward to stare intently at what looked like... a game show?

With a frown, Bulma crept in. When the man didn't move, she cautiously approached the sofa, then sat down beside him. He didn't even glance her way, and if she hadn't seen the muscles in his arms stiffen slightly underneath his black t-shirt, she'd have thought him hypnotised by the show.

"What is the capital of Uzbekistan?" the game show host bellowed out before rattling off a list of options.

When the answer was announced Vegeta's brow furrowed into a tight knot. "I did not know how to pronounce any of those, let alone choose the correct answer."

"That was a hard one," Bulma said, letting herself sink back into the plush cushions since it didn't look like Vegeta was going to object to her presence.

"What animal can be seen on the Porche logo?" the over-enthusiastic host asked.

"What does the logo look like?" Vegeta asked.

Bulma pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked up a picture.

"B, lion," Vegeta said confidently to the television.

"It's a horse!" Bulma laughed. "It doesn't look anything like a lion."

"What?" Vegeta's thick eyebrows flew up incredulously. "But it has a fluffy mane. It is a skinny-legged lion."

"D, horse!" the contestant shouted, before being greeted by the blaring bells that indicated a successful answer.

Vegeta scowled in disappointment, and Bulma smothered a smile at how cute he looked.

"Surely there is something else on television that you'd prefer to watch?" she asked, reaching for the remote.

"I thought I should start to learn more about Earth." Vegeta scowled at the screen in front of them. "In case we don't all die in the next few days."

Bulma's hand paused over the remote as his words sank in. Did that mean he was planning on staying? She pulled her hand back, then leaned against Vegeta's warm shoulder.

At her touch, he flinched, but he didn't move away. Instead, he too leaned back into the sofa, letting out a soft sigh as he settled beside her. This time Bulma didn't bother hiding her grin as she let herself relax against him.

"What is the periodic symbol for palladium?"

"Pd." Vegeta bared his teeth at the screen as if daring it to be wrong.

Bulma looked at him in surprise. "How did you know that?"

A slight flush crept into his cheeks. "You have a poster on your lab wall."

There was a poster on her wall - it was old and faded and peeling off in one corner but it had been there since she was young. "And you memorised the whole thing?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I've spent a lot of time in there waiting for you- uh waiting for you to fix things."

Bulma raised her eyebrows at that. "What's the symbol for iron?"

"Fe."

"Mercury?"

"Hg."

"Tungsten?"

Vegeta gave her a cocky smirk. "W."

"And what is Tungsten?"

His face fell. "No idea."

Bulma laughed at that. "It is still impressive. I hope Trunks gets your memory."

She felt Vegeta draw away slightly at the mention of their son. Clearly, that was still a sensitive topic. Still, it sounded like he was considering sticking around on Earth so he had to be coming around to the idea… Right?

"Are you going to train tomorrow?" Bulma asked.

"Why?" Vegeta's voice filled with suspicion.

"It's the last day before the Cell Games. After that, we'll either be safe or…"

"Dead," Vegeta finished for her. "I will only do some light sessions. If I'm not ready now it is too late."

Bulma flashed him a wide grin. "So you can help me with something?"

Vegeta's brow furrowed. "With what?"

"I'd like to run some final tests of my armour. Everyone is coming over tomorrow night to pick it up." She gave his shoulder a nudge with hers. "I know you won't need any extra protection but the others might…"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Bulma couldn't help but smile wider as she knew that was his version of assent.

Vegeta had only just stepped into the lab and he was already regretting it. He should have spent the whole day training, damn it. Instead, Bulma had lured him in with her blue eyes and strawberry scent and he'd found himself agreeing to help her without being able to stop himself.

Bulma wore overalls with rolled-up sleeves and a rip in the knee. Her hair was pulled back into a rough ponytail and she had a smear of grease on her forehead. When he edged into the lab, she glanced up with a smile.

The look made him want to simultaneously escape the room as fast as possible, and cave into the sexual frustration he'd felt the moment he'd set foot back on Earth and seen her.

"You came!" Her grin widened and she bounced on her toes in front of a large, silver workbench. "I got the idea from what you, and other you told me about Zersa. And from what Cell did to the androids."

The table had a set of armour laid out on it, armour that looked similar to his old battle suit. Vegeta frowned at it, trying to figure out the difference.

Bulma picked up a chest plate and thrust it towards him. "It is lighter, sturdier and more flexible, but it is what is inside it that is special."

"Hm." Vegeta tested the weight of it, raising it up and down. It did feel lighter, and when he stretched it with his hands it moulded to his movements like no armour he'd had before. It was a work of art, but he'd never admit that to her.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I did to it?"

Vegeta snorted. The woman looked so eager but he had no doubts that he would defeat Cell, with or without this armour. "I'm sure you are going to tell me."

Bulma bent towards him as if she was about to impart a state secret. "It's energy absorbent."

It took a moment for Vegeta to digest what she meant. He looked down at the material in his hands and rubbed it between his fingers. There was no sign of electrical circuits or anything else to suggest that this was more than a well-made piece of armour.

"Show me," he said.

Bulma held out her hand for the armour. "Let me put it on and you can blast me."

The look of horror on Vegeta's face was priceless. If she had any doubts about whether he cared for her wellbeing, they vanished with that expression.

Bulma flashed him a wide grin as she took the armour from his hand. "Just a small one to start if you are scared." She yanked the chest plate over her head. Once it was in place, she tapped the centre of her chest. "Aim right here."

"Have you gone mad?" Vegeta's cheeks turned bright pink and he looked like he was going to explode. "Did one of your experiments explode and make you hit your head? I'm not going to blast you. I could kill you!"

"Well, sure, if you hit my head, or maybe one of the major arteries in my legs. But aim for the armour and I'll be fine." Bulma tapped the chest plate with her fist. "Come on, don't be such a baby."

Vegeta scowled but hesitantly raised one hand in front of him. "Are you sure…"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake Vegeta. Yes, I'm sure. I'm the smartest person on Earth. If I didn't think my armour could take it, I wouldn't have-"

A short, sharp shock to her chest blew the wind out of her lungs and sent her flying back into the wall behind her.

"Shit!" Vegeta knelt in front of her, his hand cupping her face. "Bulma, I-"

"I'm fine," she wheezed out. "Totally fine."

"You're an idiot." Vegeta pulled back with a furious glare. "You claim to be a genius but I have never met anyone more reckless than you."

"Oh, please." Bulma hauled herself to her feet. "This coming from Mr Train 'Til I Die." She put her arm out straight in front of her, aiming her finger at Vegeta. "Strawberry."

A sizzling current raced down her arm and exploded from the tip of her finger, bursting into light. The room went white, and there was a crashing sound. When the light cleared, Vegeta was tangled up in her overturned workbench and equipment, an expression of pure shock on his face.

"What…?" He shook his head as if it clear it. "What was that?"

Bulma laughed and did a spin in her armour. "Cool, huh?"

Vegeta jumped gracefully to his feet and brushed off his slightly singed t-shirt. "It was… unexpected."

"The armour absorbs energy blasts and stores the energy, a bit like a battery cell, until the wearer speaks a programmed word, like-"

"Let me guess," Vegeta said wryly, picking the workbench back up and righting it. "Strawberry"

"You got it." Bulma pulled off the armour and placed it on the bench. "At the code word the energy is released through the wearer's hands."

"Better not accidentally say it while scratching your-"

"No." Bulma choked out a laugh. "I put in a failsafe so it won't release if it isn't aimed at the original source of the energy blast. So you don't need to worry about accidentally shooting off any body parts. Isn't this the best armour ever?"

Vegeta moved until he stood beside her then reached out and touched the armour. "It's not the worst idea you've ever had."

Bulma swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand, regretting it immediately as it was like hitting a god damn brick wall. "Not the worst idea… you asshole." She glared at him, nursing her sore hand. "This is the most sophisticated piece of defence technology in the universe and..."

Vegeta cocked his head, his serious, dark stare reducing her to silence. "If you had been a Saiyan, our planet would never have fallen to Frieza."

Bulma blinked in surprise and drew in a sharp breath. That was probably the highest compliment he could ever have given her.

"So... you'll wear it?" she managed to choke out.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "If I say no, you'll just replace my existing armour with this one."

A laugh burst out of her. "Even with all this time apart you still know me so well."

"I won't need it. This time tomorrow that grasshopper is going to be crushed into the ground."

"I know." Bulma reached out and patted his face. "But a little luck never hurt anyone, right?"

"Luck?" Vegeta scoffed and pushed aside her hand. "I don't need-"

She cut him off with a kiss, only letting herself melt into his warm mouth for a second before pulling back.

Vegeta looked a little shell shocked, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something before snapping shut again. Doubt and longing warred on his face. "I… I can't…"

You can't what? Kiss me back? Be with me? Bulma desperately wanted to fill his awkward pauses with questions but she'd learned early on in their relationship that silence when Vegeta was trying to process something would get her the answers faster.

"It's not a good idea…" A pained expression crossed his face and he closed his eyes. "I'm not…" He opened his eyes again and let out a sigh. "Ah… fuck it," he muttered.

Suddenly, her lips were against his again. He kissed her both slowly, as if savouring every moment, and greedily, like he was dying and she was the cure. They'd kissed before of course, usually hungrily just before sex, but never like this. Never like the kiss was the destination instead of the journey.

Bulma couldn't help the whimper that escaped her as he pulled back.

Vegeta touched her cheek with a frown. "Why are you sad?"

"I'm not," she replied before noticing that his fingers had come away damp. She rubbed her cheeks herself, brushing away the remnants of her tears. "Not all tears are sad."

"What are yours?"

Bulma laughed and gave a light shrug. "Happy. Confused. Scared. Everything in between."

"You don't need to be scared." Vegeta stared at her earnestly. "I told you. I will defeat Cell."

"I'm not scared of Cell." She placed a hand on his chest. "I'm scared you'll have nothing left to stay here for once he is dead."

To her surprise, Vegeta drew her into his arms and held her close. She leaned her head on his shoulder and breathed in his earthy scent.

"I will not make any promises," he said, his voice gruff. "But there's always your Mother's cooking. As long as that's on offer you might never be rid of me."