"Mom, I need to talk to Whis."

"It's in my purse, sweetie," Bulma said absently, tapping on her tablet while sipping her coffee. Bulla dug around in her mother's purse while Vegeta worked single-mindedly on his eggs.

She was always bothering the angel about something. Being the favorite of a deity had definitely gone to her head, though how the daughter of the Prince of Saiyans and the most powerful woman on the planet could possibly have turned out humble to begin with was hard to imagine. At least she was the sweet kind of spoiled. Bulma was constantly reminding him that when she was their daughter's age, she had been much worse. Vegeta believed it.

Bulla brushed out her hair with her fingers and put on her winningest smile before opening the communicator.

"Bulla!" came Whis' mellifluous voice after a few seconds. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hi Uncle Whis," Bulla said, "I need to go to Universe 6."

Vegeta paused in his eggs, confused. Bulma continued working, seeming not to hear.

"And why do you need to go there?" Whis asked.

"I need a husband."

Both Bulma and Vegeta spit out their food, Bulma spraying the table with coffee. Whis seemed unperturbed.

"Can't you find a husband in your universe? I'm sure there are plenty of willing partners right on your own planet."

"Yeah, humans. It needs to be a Saiyan."

Bulma and Vegeta looked at each other, beginning to understand what this was about.

"Why not Goten?" Whis asked. Bulla made a face

"Ew, Goten's old."

"Pan, then."

"No, Pan's practically a boy. Anyway, I want to have children. Universe 6 is the only place with any Saiyans my age."

"Very well," Whis said. "We'll be there in half an hour."

And he cut the connection before either Bulma or Vegeta could collect themselves.

"Excuse me?" Bulma said, wiping down the table. "You are too young to be getting married, young lady."

Bulla rolled her eyes. "Boyfriend, husband, whatever." She pulled out her phone. "Pan," she said, "where's Uncle Piccolo?... Yeah, and send him over here…. I just need him, okay?... Yeah, I'll tell you later. Bye."

Vegeta massaged the bridge of his nose.

"I know I'll regret asking, but what does Piccolo have to do with you getting a boyfriend?"

"Duh. I need clothes."

Bulma slammed the napkins in the trash like she was disposing of a dead body. Vegeta found that he did, in fact, regret asking.

"What's wrong with the clothes you already have?" he demanded.

"Daaaad, I'm going to meet royalty! I can't wear what I already have."

"Then what about the mall?" Bulma asked. Bulla just rolled her eyes.

"What do you mean royalty?" Vegeta said, feeling like he was the only sane person in the room. Bulla sighed in exasperation.

"You're a prince, dad. If the king there has a boy my age, I should marry him."

Vegeta felt ill. But before he could collect himself enough to voice his objections, Piccolo climbed in the window.

"What is it?" he demanded, the ends of his white cape still dusty from the wilderness. "Pan said it was important."

"It is!" Bulla turned to him and held out a sheaf of papers. "I need you to make these for me."

Piccolo accepted the papers, and glanced at them urgently for one second before his face fell into disgust.

"You called me over here so I could make you clothes?"

He took in a breath, likely to further object, but Vegeta bolted from the table and caught Piccolo by the arm, hissing into his ear.

"Just humor her. All right?"

Piccolo turned a raised eyebrow on Vegeta. Vegeta growled.

"It's not like you haven't done this for her before."

"When she was five," Piccolo objected.

"I'll make it up to you," Vegeta hissed.

"How?" Piccolo asked, now amused. Vegeta flushed.

"I don't know! I'll think of something. Just…" The look he gave Piccolo was not that of a father wrapped around his teenage daughter's pinky. He looked… desperate. Piccolo studied him for a moment, and then snorted.

"Fine." He turned to Bulla. "On this black one, here— where do you want the closures?"

"There." She pointed

"Buttons or a zipper?"

Bulla took her hair behind her ear and considered the drawing. "What do you think would look better?"

Vegeta left them to it, their heads bowed together over the fashion plates, and stood next to his wife. If they'd been alone, he might have rested his head wearily on Bulma's shoulder.

"Should we humor her in this?" he asked in a low voice. She gave him a look that told him she knew what he was thinking and loved him for it.

"I don't see what it could hurt," she said. "She's not wrong. She might relate better to Saiyans."

"But after what happened…" Vegeta glanced over at the Namekian, remembering too late his advanced hearing. Piccolo gave no indication that he'd heard, but that didn't mean he hadn't. He lowered his voice further. "You don't think she's running away, do you?"

"Oh, absolutely," Bulma said. He looked at her in horror, and she gave him a patient smile. "What do you think I was doing the first time I went looking for the dragon balls?"

Vegeta ground his teeth. Bulma gave his hand a squeeze, out of sight of Piccolo.

"It'll be alright," she said. "After all, we'll be going with her."

By the time Whis showed up, half an hour later, Bulma had already packed enough supplies for several months, given last minute instructions to the staff, told Trunks and Chichi where they were going, and purchased several crates of cup ramen as an offering to Beerus. Vegeta had just about managed to finish his breakfast.

"Hi Uncle Whis!" Bulla called, throwing her arms around the angel. He hugged her back, laughing.

"How's my favorite godchild?" he asked.

"I'm your only godchild."

"And even more special for all that," Whis said. "Is everyone ready?"

Bulma nodded. Even in capsule form, their supplies filled an entire duffel bag, which she had hung over Vegeta's shoulder.

"Then let's go." They all linked hands, and Whis lifted his staff, beginning the journey. "I'll be taking you to Lord Beerus' planet first," he said. "He'll want to accompany us to Lord Champa's." He turned to Bulla. "I trust you already have an offering?"

Bulla nodded, hefting a small plastic grocery bag Vegeta hadn't noticed her holding. Whis nodded approvingly.

The journey to Lord Beerus was mostly silent, and Beerus only peered suspiciously at Bulla for a few moments before adding his hand to Whis' back, signaling him to begin the journey to Lord Champa's.

That trip was also uneventful, although Vegeta noted that Bulla kept twisting her hair around her finger, something she only did when she was either flirtatious or nervous. It had never occurred to him before that perhaps when she was being flirtatious she was nervous. The thought made him feel old.

Lord Champa was not impressed with Bulla's reason for wanting to visit his universe.

"What makes you think I would give you permission for something so petty?" the god demanded with his hands on his hips.

"Of course I brought you an offering," Bulla said. "I think it will be the most delicious thing you've ever tasted."

Vegeta glanced at his daughter. Her nerves seemed to be completely gone, and she stood there like a warrior entering a battle she knows she will win.

Champa raised an eyebrow.

"I've had all the best that both my and your Earth have to offer. What could a child like you possibly have to impress me?"

"All the best?" Bulla asked.

"Yes!"

"Every gourmet restaurant and rare delicacy?"

"Of course! I've tried them all. No one has dared give me anything but the absolute best!"

Bulla nodded.

"Then I take it no one's ever told you about s'mores."

Butter couldn't have melted in her mouth.

"What are s'mores?" Beerus demanded.

"Yes," Champa said, clearly delighted at the possibility of having something to hold over his brother, "I've never even heard of those."

"I bet not," Bulla said. "They're more of a camping food. You'd never find one in a restaurant. But I thought it was a shame that an illustrious god like you should miss out on one of the best foods in the world just because it's not considered gourmet."

Bulla was her mother's daughter, Vegeta thought. She had the god exactly where she wanted him.

"Then give me one!" Champa demanded

"I will," Bella said. "But I have to make it first. They're only good fresh." She turned to Whis. "Could you make me a campfire?"

Whis cocked an eyebrow at Vados, who nodded, and he pointed his staff at the ground. In an instant a perfectly shaped, blazing campfire sprang to life. Bulla nodded in satisfaction and sat on the ground.

"I'll make you the first one," she said to Champa, "so you know how it's done. But the best way to make a s'more is to do it yourself."

She opened the plastic bag and took out a bag of marshmallows, a large chocolate bar, and a box of graham crackers. Champa pointed a finger accusingly at the chocolate bar.

"I've seen those! There's loads better chocolate on Earth than that. I tried one once. It was… all right, but only that. You mean to tell me this is one of the best foods in existence?"

Bulla did not pause in opening up the marshmallow bag and pulling a retractable skewer from the bag.

"Believe me, Lord Champa, I've tried s'mores with better chocolate. Somehow they're just not as good. This is the only proper chocolate to make a s'more with."

She prepared the chocolate and the graham cracker, set them on her knee, and then set about toasting a marshmallow.

"Now, there's a lot of debate over the best way to toast a marshmallow for a s'more." Champa was hanging on the mortal girl's every word, and it was not hard to see why. She spoke with an assurance far beyond her years. She was her mother's daughter, Vegeta realized, but she was also his. Bulma was confident, and it opened a lot of doors that might have been closed to her otherwise, but she did not hold herself like royalty. Bulla somehow made toasting a marshmallow look like the most important activity in the world.

"Some people like to just set the marshmallow on fire," Bulla said, shaking her head. "Those people are wrong. The only way to toast a marshmallow is to make sure the outside is golden brown and crispy, but the inside is ooey gooey. It takes a bit of practice and patience, but that's why it's so yummy."

After a few minutes she retracted the marshmallow, studied it, and pronounced it good.

"Now here's how you assemble the s'more." She demonstrated, and handed the finished product over to Champa. Champa eyed the thing warily.

"This looks messy," he said. Bulla had to concede that this was so.

"But it's worth it," she said. "And licking it off your fingers is half the fun."

Hesitantly, Champa took the first bite. Predictably, to the mortals at least, his eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned in pleasure.

"What… what is this? How is it so good?" He crammed the rest of it into his mouth and chewed, making orgasmic noises. "It's so hot and gooey and chocolatey and crunchy all at once! It's sweet, but not too sweet, and it's warm and—"

"I need one!" Beerus demanded. Champa swallowed and glared at him.

"The mortal came here to ask me for a favor," he scolded. "Get your own."

"Does that mean we can go?" Bulla asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral.

"Only if you make me more of those!" Champa decreed. And so it was done, Bulla pulling out another stash to appease Beerus with, though it only prompted an argument between the brothers, which their angels ignored.

"Shall I hand them over into your care, sister?" Whis asked Vados. "I don't think Lord Champa would appreciate all of us gallivanting about his universe."

"Of course," Vados said. "I'll take care of them, don't worry. I know this one is special to you."

She smiled at Bulla, who smiled back.

"I'll take you to Cabba's place," she said. "He trains with Lord Champa from time to time, and will not be surprised by our arrival."

Vegeta nodded approvingly. It would be good to see Cabba. He wondered what he'd been up to since the last time they'd met.

When Vados politely knocked on the door, a woman answered it.

"Vados, welcome," she said, stepping back out of the doorway. "Come on in."

"Oh, I'm not here for Cabba," the angel said. "I've brought him some guests."

The woman peered behind Vados and raised her eyebrows politely at the three of them.

"You are… Cabba's friends?"

"Of a sort," Vegeta said. "I am Vegeta—"

Her reaction was dramatic and immediate.

"Vegeta! Oh, yes, you're Vegeta, of course!" She was patting her hair and abruptly stripped off the apron she'd been wearing. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Please! Please, come on in."

"Give Cabba my regards," Vados said before disappearing.

"Come in, come in," the woman said, leading them down a cozy hallway. "My name is Kohra, don't mind the mess." She took an armful of old armor, equipment, and dirty socks and shoved it in a closet, smiling manically. "Would you like some tea?"

She led them to an open, sunny courtyard where comfortable couches were arranged pleasingly around a low table.

"Baji!" she shouted as she hastily began clearing away the dirty cups and basket of laundry on the table, "come get your tija sticks! We have company!"

A young boy of about ten, lanky and clearly smack dab in the middle of his growth spurt, entered the courtyard at a sprint and gathered up a collection of wooden sticks that looked like a cross between sporting equipment and training weapons. He straightened, looked full on into Bulla's large blue eyes, and froze. His mouth dropped open and a blush began to spread up his neck and over his face.

"Baji!" Kohra hissed. "Take those to your room. And get your father!"

Baji backed up slowly, not taking his eyes from Bulla, who had given him one glance and then proceeded to give him exactly zero attention.

"Please, sit," Kohra said breathlessly, setting out the tea things.

"You really don't have to go to all this trouble," Bulma said warmly as the three of them sat. Kohra flapped a hand in dismissal.

"I've heard all about you from Cabba. It's an honor to finally meet you."

"Master!"

Cabba himself came striding out of a hallway, grinning from ear to ear. Vegeta stood, and they clasped hands, though Vegeta was both proud and irritated to note that Cabba had done some growing since their last meeting. He was now a good four inches taller than Vegeta, and had filled out considerably. His boyish enthusiasm, however, seemed to be intact.

"It's wonderful to see you again! I wasn't sure we'd ever— Well!" He sat. "This is my wife Kohra, and this—" He looked around, the broad grin slipping for the first time into confusion as he failed to locate his son. "The boy currently hiding somewhere is my son Baji."

"My wife Bulma," Vegeta said with a nod, "and my daughter Bulla."

"I think we've met before," Bulma said. Cabba frowned, and then brightened.

"Yes! At the Destroyer tournament. I remember." He looked at Bulla. "And this must be the little one born just before the Tournament of Power."

Bulla shrugged. She was studying her nails, and did not say a word.

"Yes," Vegeta said, and then the entire courtyard descended into awkward silence. Bulma was giving her daughter a subtle but palpable side eye, and Vegeta was trying to ignore the eagerness on Cabba's face that he did not seem to have grown out of. Kohra cleared her throat.

"So, what brings you here?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to speak, but then his daughter's voice hissed in his ear.

"Don't tell them!"

Vegeta slowly turned his head to stare at his daughter. She had gone to so much trouble, bribed gods and turned his world upside down in the span of an instant, forced him to endure small talk, and now she was getting cold feet? Was she crazy? Was he crazy?

His silence stretched, until Bulla huffed and turned around to her mother, whispering urgently in her ear. Vegeta watched his wife's warm smile gain an edge to it that would have made the hackles on the back of his neck stand up if she'd been aiming it at him.

"I'm so sorry," she said to Kohra, "but my daughter is too shy to ask where the restroom is."

Bulla turned bright red and slightly angry, but Vegeta thought if she was going to act helpless she had better accept the consequences.

Kohra smiled in understanding.

"That way." She pointed to a small outbuilding, cozy and unobtrusive. Bulma stood, hauling her daughter up by the arm with her.

"I might as well go too," she said, dragging Bulla along. Cabba turned back to Vegeta, an awkward smile on his face.

"I've… heard from Champa that Beerus has taken you as his apprentice."

Vegeta forced down his irritation at his daughter and nodded.

"Indeed. And I've heard you have unlocked a new Super Saiyan form."

Cabba blushed.

"I… could never really get the hang of god ki," he said. "I can use it, just… not well."

"You'll have to show me while I'm here," Vegeta told him.

"And," Khora said, "sorry, but why are you here?"

Vegeta opened his mouth again, now completely at a loss what to say, but luckily for his dignity Bulma and Bulla came back and settled down on the couch, Bulla looking decidedly more subdued.

"We're here," Bulma said with forced brightness, "because Vegeta and I decided it was time to find Bulla a husband."