Rights: All rights belong to Akira Toriyama, Toyotarou and Toei Animation

This is based on the manga cannon, so there may be some discrepancies with the anime.

WARNINGS: This story is very, very dark, with a large amount of violence, gore, and sexual references, including references to non-consensual sex.

Bulma put aside her novel, finally admitting to herself that none of it was going in. It had been a long day, full of realisations and revelations she had not wanted to experience. As expected, Vegeta had been waiting for her by the front door when she landed, having recovered from his assault and ready to plead with her again. After swearing loudly in his face, he had stepped aside, looking like a kicked puppy, but Bulma remained resolute.

She would not be swayed.

She continued to ignore him throughout dinner, some of the others picking up on the tension. She thought Beerus had made some comment or other about Ternyp, but she had been distracted throwing volcanic glares at Vegeta. When Trunks had asked what the matter was between the two she hadn't the heart to tell him, falling silent and glowering at her mother's excellent cooking. Vegeta had finished quickly, brushing off Panchy's concern and heading inside, Bra on his hip to make up for his absences.

Bra had been delighted with the attention as Vegeta played with her, happy shrieks disturbing the eaters until Bulma had stormed inside to inform him coolly that it was her daughter's bedtime. Vegeta had tried once more to speak with her, hoping the atmosphere might quell her tower of anger, but Bulma had turned away, heading to the bedroom she now found herself in.

The bedroom she had shared with Vegeta.

Here, in this room, she had made love to him, had cherished him, had upbraided him and held him close during his emotional episodes. The room which had seen so many happy memories, so many sad memories, so much gladness and so much hurt. The room Vegeta had been kicked out of more times than she could count, only to be welcomed back with open arms.

Well, not this time.

She was going to have to turf out all his things. Not only from this room, but from the house. There was no way they could continue to cohabitate after that bombshell had hit.

And then there was the matter of the children, and custody, and the fact that Vegeta did not legally exist so there would be no court settlement. Of course, if the court was an option, they would rule against her husband immediately on the grounds of his record, which included murdering innocent children.

But as much as she hated Vegeta at that moment, she wasn't about to stop him from seeing the children. She knew what they meant to him, and although it would be an agonising punishment for him, it wouldn't be fair to the children.

She was getting ahead of herself, though. Vegeta was still in the house, still denying his clandestine activities, but without confessing to his actual undertakings. Which only made her wonder if he wasn't cheating, but actually involved with something far worse that he wouldn't admit to.

Regardless, she was done with him. In the space of a day she had made up her mind. All the misgivings added together exploding out of her even before she had seen the lipstick which clinched it for her.

In the back of her mind, an insidious voice reminded her that she had reached the very same decision before, only to cave in the face of his persistence. Was she really so foolish as to tempt fate?

At that moment the door opened with a snick, Bulma's eyes swivelling to meet the object of her ire, peering at her timidly.

"Bulma—"

"Get out," she said flatly, levelling him a severe glare.

"I just wanted—"

"Out!" she gestured defiantly towards the hallway, but to her eternal frustration, he let himself in fully.

"Didn't you hear what I said?!" Bulma hissed.

"Listen—"

"I don't want to talk to you!"

"It's your mother's!" he cried, coming to rest at the foot of the bed.

"What?" she blinked, wanting him to explain himself in spite of her desire never to hear his voice again.

"The lipstick! It's your mothers!"

"That has got to be the worst lie I have ever heard. It took you six hours to come up with that?"

"It's true!"

"Let me guess," Bulma ridiculed, "She fell on your face?"

"What? No!"

"Look, Vegeta," her eyes were stony as she gazed at him in hatred, "I'm done, okay? We're done."

"But—!"

"Now get out of my room."

He refused to leave, turning towards the drawers and burrowing into them, as if getting ready to change for bed.

"Vegeta! I told you to get! Out!"

"Just let me—"

"Out!"

"I'm just collecting-!"

The beside lamp was the perfect heft, and soon found itself sailing towards its owner's husband, cord trailing sadly behind it as Bulma roared "OUT!"

Catching the blunt instrument easily, Vegeta placed it on top of the drawers, moving aside what were some lovely, sentimental photos of her family that she would need to shred. Then he retreated, clutching a pile of clothing with one hand to his chest.

"I'll need to come back for my training clothes."

She had no more words to say to him.

It was a refreshed Bulma who descended the stairs the next morning, up bright and early with the birds so she could focus on some company business.

Not because she hadn't slept well the night before, and couldn't get her mind off her failed relationship.

Approaching the kitchen, she paused when she heard voices.

"I'm disappointed in you, Vegeta," her father said, using his son-in-law's name rather than the usual monikers 'my boy' or 'son', "Very disappointed."

"It isn't true, Dr Brief, I swear," Vegeta answered, seeming to care about her father's opinion of him.

"I wondered what had arisen between the two of you last night, but this…!" something hit the table, "This I would never have imagined."

"It isn't true, Father," Vegeta answered, using the title customary in saiyan marriages, rare though they were.

"Really? Then you are suggesting my daughter is a liar?"

"No, no!" Vegeta rejected hastily, "Not that! Only, she isn't aware of all the facts! She jumped to a conclusion!"

"It says that she found the lipstick of another woman on your lips. Is that libel?"

"No," Vegeta replied, hastening to add, "But it was an accident!"

"An…accident," her father was clearly as suspicious of that answer as she was.

"Yes!"

"And how did you accidentally come by the lipstick?"

"Ah…"

"Trying to think of something convincing?" Dr Brief accused as Vegeta hesitated.

"No, just trying to protect the innocent from repercussions. The woman in question went to kiss me on the cheek but I turned my head at a sound and…" she heard him sigh.

"And you expect me to believe that?" he echoed his daughter's words.

"Why does no one trust my word?" Vegeta lamented, prompting Bulma to think maybe if you hadn't lied and bent the truth so much we would.

"Vegeta, who was this woman you claim accosted you?"

"Umm…"

"I'm waiting…"

"It was…your wife."

So he was still sticking to that story.

"My wife tried to kiss you?"

"She was relieved to see me!"

"And therein lies the crux of the problem, Vegeta. Your disappearances. Absent without any word, no one being able to sense you or connect with you. Bulma is very right to be suspicious, even if you did suffer an accident with my wife as you claim."

"Father, I—"

"Don't look at me like that," Dr Brief warned, "You need to come clean with my daughter. Nothing else will suffice."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"She can't…she can't know."

"Now, that's suspicious."

"It's not an affair!"

"Then what is it?" Dr Brief pressed, "You haven't gotten involved with anything untoward, have you? No more blood on your hands?"

She remembered when her father had found out about his history during their altercation over Vegeta's decision with Babidi. She had screamed it at him without a care for who might be listening, and the eavesdropper turned out to be her father. He had reamed them both out over keeping such an enormous secret from him, even as he forbid them from telling his wife, and had then given Vegeta the cold shoulder for two months as he received the same treatment simultaneously from his wife.

The prince had not answered.

"Vegeta?"

"Not…exactly."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He was met with silence.

"Vegeta?"

"We have a listener."

Taking it as her cue, Bulma sauntered into the room, giving her father a merry 'good morning' and ignoring her husband. Back to Vegeta, she retrieved a mug, bypassing her former favourite which Vegeta had gifted to her and grasping a plain one by the handle. Humming to herself, she set the mug under the coffee machine's nozzle, taking out a bowl and spoon ready for her cereal.

"Bulma, dear?" her father enquired, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Dad. Just fine," she beamed at him to prove her point.

"Dear, there is…there is a problem."

Capping the milk, she turned to him as he gestured to a newspaper on the table.

A newspaper with the headlines 'Capsule Corp President Victim of Affair' splashed across the page, along with a photo of her screaming at Vegeta. The caption read: "Capsule Corp President confronts husband over cheating".

Just what she needed.

"Vegeta…" she growled, "This could damage my career! This could damage my company!"

"Hey!" he backed away, hands up in the classic defensive pose, "Don't blame me for this. You're the one who took our row out in public."

"You're the reason we're having a row, you ungrateful two-timer!"

"What is a 'two-timer'?"

But she wasn't listening, focusing instead on the article, trying to assess how destructive it could be for her and Capsule Corp. It went through their heated spat, how she had levelled her accusations, how Vegeta had not been able to form a coherent response (how she kept cutting him off).

"Ha! Look, Vegeta, there's the part where I kicked you in the groin, front page in tabloid news."

"As if I care about that rubbish," he replied, blush forming on his cheeks as he shoulders crept up to his ears.

"Everyone will know about it," she commented, internal alarm bells ringing as she realised that everyone would know about her domestic situation. She was going to be faced with calls and visits from well-wishers, offers to exact revenge on her behalf, and she wasn't really sure what she wanted from all this. Did she want to see Vegeta harmed? Thinking back on that satisfying cry of pain as he crumpled to the bitumen, she decided that yes, yes she did.

But what else did she want? A divorce? Separate living arrangements? Vegeta had nowhere else to live, but did she care about that? And then there was the children!

She couldn't handle all that just yet.

And a voice at the back of her mind repeated the overheard conversation, in which Vegeta had seemed to confess to nefarious activity of some sort rather than cheating on her. But was that simply misdirection? He knew she had to be listening in.

At that moment, her mobile phone began to ring, prompting her to excuse herself, courtesy for her father's benefit only. Whatever was going on, Vegeta was in the wrong, so she wasn't about to grace him with manners, let alone the time of day.

"Hello? Bulma here."

"Hey, Bulma," Krillen was the first cap off the ranks, "I…um…I read something interesting in the paper this morning. Did you see it?"

"Yes," she gritted her teeth, "I've seen it."

"Is it…is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"That Vegeta is cheating on you."

She wasn't sure now. Vegeta had seemed genuine, but…she simply couldn't trust him. Not a word he said.

"Yes, it's true," she answered, dismissing the feeling of guilt which arose within her, accusing her of lying.

"Oh, gosh, Bulma. That's awful! I'm so sorry!"

"Yes, well…" she traipsed into the living room, eyeing the damage, remembering her concern for her husband. Concern that seemed so misplaced, now. There were a few crumpled sheets on the couch, likely making Vegeta's bedding for the night.

"Do you need anything?" Krillen asked.

"I have no idea," she responded truthfully, "I just don't know what to do. It's all a big shock and I'm not sure what to do."

"Well, I think you should take a few days to think about what you really want. Don't make any rash decisions. And give Vegeta a chance to defend himself."

"He keeps denying it," she answered, "But he won't tell me where he's been instead. He implied to my father that he might have been involved in something immoral, but I don't know if he said that to throw my Dad off the scent. Or maybe he's been doing both. Maybe his new paramour is a criminal of some sort."

"I thought he had reformed," Krillen lamented.

"So did I, Krillen, so did I."

By lunchtime Bulma had fielded calls of some sort from all of her friends, some quoting the paper, others hearing it on the grapevine. She reassured all of them that she was alright, but most did not offer to take on Vegeta for her sake, which was probably best for everyone's safety. Except Goku. He had been the most startled of all, shaking his head and constantly expressing his disbelief, before giving her a determined look and promising to exact recompense. It wasn't exactly his style, but she had taken him up on the offer anyway.

Vegeta needed a good beating.

Even if Goku was only agreeing for the opportunity to finally fight with someone.

Unfortunately, Goku had then reported that Vegeta was nowhere to be found. He couldn't sense him anywhere, and a quick search of the property yielded no results.

He was off wherever he kept disappearing to again.

Sitting down for lunch, Bulma dished herself a good portion, immediately regretting it when she sat down to eat. Plate looming, she began to take little bites, pushing down the food as her mind kept wandering to Vegeta's betrayal.

"Mum?"

Bulma turned to face Trunks, half-hidden behind his meal.

"Why is Dad sleeping on the couch?"

Bulma's stomach dropped. Should she tell him? He was bound to find out eventually.

"Trunks, your father is…he's having an affair."

Trunks choked on his kebab, taking quick gulps of water to dislodge the offending meat.

"What?!" he cried.

"You heard me, Trunks," she didn't want to repeat herself.

"But…that can't be…but Dad's been away a lot lately…he hasn't been answering me…he's completely blocked me off. As if he's hiding something."

He turned to give Bulma a serious face.

"I'll kill him," he declared.

Down the other end of the table, Beerus was finishing off his meal, Merus watching on in disgust. The God of Destruction patted his full belly, letting out a long breath of satisfaction.

"Excellent as always, Pansy," he complemented, making Panchy chuckle with delight even as he mispronounced her name.

Her mother still didn't know. Vegeta had always been a favourite of hers; she had a major soft spot for him. Bulma wasn't sure how to break the news of Vegeta's betrayal to her, or even if she should. Panchy could be slow to pick up on things. Maybe it would be better to keep her in her own fantasy world until Bulma figured out a way to tell her.

Beerus departed, taking off lazily into the sky, probably heading to the hospital.

She hoped to goodness her charade with Merus would convince him to abandon his torture-for-eternity plans. She wasn't sure she could take seeing any more injuries on Ternyp, who seemed like such a polite, sensible fellow. He was certainly a rather innocent sort, not deserving of the punishments Beerus levelled at him.

"Bulma," for the second time that day she leapt from her seat, glaring at Goku with one hand over her heart.

"Stop doing that!"

Goku stood before her, scratching the back of his head, hair filled with leaves and twigs as dirt coated his gi. There was a slight bruise on his face, but other than that he seemed no worse for wear, and held a triumphant grin.

"I found him!"

"Vegeta?"

"Yep! He stopped hiding in Ternyp's room. He was in the bathroom with him."

Bulma gave him a flat look, "I suppose it's about time you did that. Popped in on someone while they were on the toilet. Tell me you refrained from attacking Vegeta until after he had Ternyp settled in bed."

"Umm…"

"Goku!"

"What?"

"Vegeta's basically Ternyp's prime carer, for whatever reason."

"Oh. Well, I got him good. I could swear he was holding back, but he seemed really annoyed with me."

"I'd imagine," she answered drily.

"I'm afraid I lost him, though. I drop-kicked him into a forest and lost all sense of him. I think I might have knocked him out."

"I'm sure he's fine," she dismissed easily.

He could rot amongst the wildlife.

She didn't care.

At. All.