Hello! Here is the newest update! Writing these last few chapters has been hard, but I've also been enjoying the development going on. I hope you feel the same! I'm trying to update more regularly again, so hopefully the next chapter will be up before too long, as well!

I also wanted to make a quick reminder to new readers that this story is actually a sequel, and if you'd like to read more then please be sure to have a look at my other story, "The 3 Year Gap". That one does explain more of Vegeta and Bulma's history, from how their relationship started to how it ended up. It contains scenes and events that she keeps alluding to in this story, so if you read that it all may make more sense as to how she got to the point she's at now. It was my first fanfic, so in the beginning I was still developing my writing style and getting an idea of how I wanted to present. It was a labor of love!

Thanks, and without further adeu... the newest chapter!

It was obvious that she was going to be willfully difficult, per usual. The saiyan turned, looking over his shoulder at the woman before him. He glared into her eyes, thinking in silence as he considered her response. 'No,' He thought. 'Not a hint of guilt in those blue orbs. There's no way she was with that beta male after all, I suppose.' The saiyan was sure to let out one last growl before turning his back to Bulma completely. "Next time you should consider coming home at a more reasonable hour. I have a feeling the boy was missing you."

Vegeta turned and began to walk away, stepping into the shadows as his body moved from the light of the entry way. Bulma watched as he went, her emotions dropping through her breasts as her heart sank. The way he'd just looked at her, his eyes penetrating her soul as if he were dissecting her being, was enough to shoot shivers down her spine. Those eyes, those venomous almonds had a hint of tenderness in them as they pierced through the room. It was that same look that made Bulma fall for Vegeta years ago.

Where did things turn so drastically? Everything had been relatively calm between the two recently, and it had even gotten to the point that Bulma had grown comfortable – perhaps attached – to their new dynamic. Why did things suddenly have to transpire in such a way? Now she and Vegeta were hardly on speaking terms – and when they did speak they were at each others' throats. It certainly didn't help matters that Bulma had been so quick to lose her temper just now, yet it came as such a natural resort when her back was against the wall – literally!

"Why can't he just say he's sorry?" Bulma sighed, allowing her body to sink towards the floor. The Bluehead would be sitting in silence for quite a few minutes, considering everything that was going on in her life, before she willed herself to stand and head upstairs. As she made her way through the darkness of the house it began to sink in that it really was late – Mr. and Mrs. Briefs had already retreated to the den for their evening routine of watching sitcoms before bed. It was evident with how quiet the house was that Trunks had already been put down to sleep. He wasn't just scolding, it really was late... Bulma couldn't help but consider Vegeta's last words to her. He'd suggested that she needed to be spending more time with Trunks. Sure, he'd used a much harsher vocabulary, but the message was still the same... She really had been spending more and more of her hours out of the house, leaving her baby to the care of Mrs. Briefs. And perhaps that really wasn't fair. Perhaps he was right...

In his room Vegeta was already dressed in his night clothes, which consisted of a pair of loose boxers and an undershirt that Mrs. Briefs had bought for him. His chronically sour mood, which had been plaguing him ever since his and Bulma's dispute, was worsened after the encounter they'd just had downstairs. Growing increasingly frustrated with Bulma's ever-difficult attitude, the saiyan was counting the days until his soon-to-be home would be ready for him to take reside in.

He was sitting on his mattress, just moments away from shutting off the light on his beside table, when he heard a faint tapping at his bedroom door. The saiyan let out a silent hiss, knowing fully well who was on the other end. When he'd gone to speak with her downstairs she had treated him as if he were some foul specimen she'd stepped in, and now she was actively pursuing him – not five minutes later? He hadn't even calmed his breathing yet – what could she have possibly wanted to say to him now? The saiyan was in no mood to engage in conversation at this point, and for a moment he considered yelling at her to go away. Yet, despite his ire, there was something inside that would not allow him to do such a thing. Not to her... So, instead, Vegeta folded his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath, calling out only one word to the woman who was waiting on the other end of the bedroom door. "Enter."

The door creaked open slowly, two blue eyes peering into the room. An act of hesitation, as if she were still trying to decide on what she wanted to do, she poked her head in and glanced around before carefully proceeding. A few seconds later Bulma was standing before him, quietly shutting the door behind her before stepping out from the doorway. The saiyan greeted her with his typical scowl. He didn't speak a word as he glared, waiting impatiently for her to explain why she was bothering him as he was going to bed, and especially after behaving in such a way just moments earlier.

Bulma didn't oblige. Instead she stood awkwardly in front of him, her hands clasped together in front of her waist as if she were unsure of how to handle herself. Her eyelids heavy as she silently studied the footing of Vegeta's bed. She had acted rudely, and while she could admit that, it was hard to be the first person to make amends when he had been so harsh to her in the first place. It'd been a week, and he still hadn't even attempted to extend an olive branch after exploding at her about her broach, had he?

Silence rang through the room, as Bulma stood in thought, and Vegeta found himself growing even more irritated. Why was she there? After rejecting any inquiry he made of her, speaking so disrespectfully to him, and all-but casting him away, she was standing in his room and looking like a lost puppy. All the saiyan could think of was the sleep he was losing with each passing moment, and of how much of his time Bulma was quickly wasting.

Finally, when he could not stand waiting for an explanation any longer, the saiyan's voice broke. "Well?"

Bulma's eyes rose from the floor to Vegeta's face, her brows raising from the harsh in his tone. She cleared her throat and straightened her posture, nodding at him before speaking. "I just came in to check on you..." Her voice soft, the Bluehead hadn't been too entirely sure of what she would actually say.

Considering how she had been acting as of late, her words came off as a condescending slap in the face to the vexed saiyan. "Check on me?" His eyebrows furrowed, his voice nearly cracking. "What type of game are you playing, woman?!"

Bulma shrugged, screwing his mouth to the side and raising her eyebrows. If Vegeta hadn't been so upset with her, he would have found this act cute. "I just wanted to see how you are." Blue eyes blinking, pausing, listening.

Even more patronization. Vegeta groaned under his breath. What? After talking down to him so many times, she'd come to disturb him and see if he was okay? As if he couldn't take care of himself? As if he were an infant? What more was she going to do to his pride?

"I wanted to say that you were right... I should have gotten home earlier than I did." Bulma muttered. Her words didn't do much to calm the saiyan, his anger already having risen to the point of no return. Of course he was right! He was almost always right! Her confession was nothing more than stating an obvious fact, and it certainly didn't make up for the way she'd conducted herself.

"And, well, I just..." She sighed, as if searching for the right words. "I just wish you'd stop all of this already. Just, come on. Enough with being hostile."

The temples of his head twitched, his eyes widening. "Did I hear you correctly, or have my ears grown so weak from this inferior planet's atmosphere that they now malfunction?" He stood now, fighting with the urge inside to yell out. "You want me to cease with my hostility?"

"Yes, Vegeta, I want you to stop! This whole thing started because of a small gift that someone gave me! It's was not a big deal! So I wish you would just get over it and stop with the attitude!"

The saiyan grunted, his biceps tightening as he clenched his hand into a fist. "And here I was, nearly believing that you came in here to make amends for your ways. Instead you want me to correct my behavior?" He was gritting his teeth, unsure if he could handle her denting his ego any further. "Woman, you'll find better use of your time in leaving me alone."

"You're the one who exploded at me over something so small!" Bulma placed her hands on her hips. "And you want me to leave you alone!? In case you've forgotten, this is my house! You're standing in my guest bedroom! How dare you tell me to leave!"

"Right," Vegeta muttered, "Okay then." He thought back on his internal calendar, once again counting down the days until he would have his own place to reside. It was clear that the woman wanted a fight, an exchange of words that would result in raised voices and even more verbal jabs. A verbal altercation that would wake the rest of the household, disturb the fleas that slept in the soil outside, and result in yet another sleepless night for the saiyan prince himself. There was absolutely no point to it. Vegeta was beside himself with anger, and she seemed to still be in complete ignorance of her own behavior. She wasn't going to admit to any faults - she merely wanted to place every aspect of blame on him. The only thing that would come from having any type of dispute with the woman would just be more wasted time.

It was with this thought that the saiyan opted to resolve the situation himself. So, instead of even replying, he stepped towards her instead. He closed in on the Bluehead, her mouth dropping open as realization dawned on her face. This wasn't going to be the first occasion where he had to use physical means to get her to move. In only a second's time he had lifted Bulma off the ground, his hands gripping her waist as he held her away from his body. Not even attempting to resist, Bulma immediately submitted to her defeat as the saiyan carried her to the bedroom door. And just a moment later he was setting her back down to her feet in the hall, muttering bitterly in her direction as he turned on his heel, briskly walking away.

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed, tugging at her shirt to smooth it out after such an ordeal. But the saiyan didn't so much as flinch in her direction as he disappeared back into his room, leaving her alone in the darkened hall.

Vegeta refusing to even attempt a conversation with Bulma when she was upset was something that the Bluehead wasn't used to. It had been a long time since the days where he was the one who would turn his back and refuse communication as Bulma attempted to explain herself. For the last couple of months, whenever she would lose her temper and speak her mind, he would take it with stride and continue with his attempts to win her over. At times it had been infuriating, with Bulma desperate to be left alone before she accidentally reignited old feelings for that strong-willed man. And now, here she was, alone in a dark hallway, and she wasn't feeling good.

This was different. She really hadn't foreseen this. This had been a moment where she really wanted Vegeta to respond, to get upset and react – to fight for himself, and for them. To tell her why he was acting the way he was, why he'd lashed out at her a week earlier. To apologize for behaving so cruelly and to provide some type of insight into his actions. To give her closure, and perhaps even comfort. This just wasn't what she'd been hoping for, and him giving her the cold shoulder was something she was no longer accustomed to.

He'd acted so distant and un-invested in his room. And even when she tried to push his buttons in order to get some type of rise out of him, he'd still resisted! Bulma thought back to their encounter in the entry-way just after she'd gotten home, and a lump of regret began to form in her throat. At least at that point he was still acknowledging and trying to interact with her – even if he was doing it in a distasteful way. These two encounters had only been separated by minutes, and the only factor that could have contributed to how quickly Vegeta's temper has escalated was the way in which Bulma handled herself the entry-way. She'd snapped at him, she'd been overly harsh. She recognized that, she could even admit it. She'd been too quick to jump on the defense, and she could understand why he would in turn be upset. But his reaction, the demeanor he presented to her just now… She didn't like it.

In fact, it frightened her. Had she really upset him that much?

What was going on?

It was the mid-afternoon the next day when Bulma groaned, stretching her arms out behind her head and taking in a deep breath of air. It was Friday, and while she normally spent weekdays working on-site at the Capsule Corp headquarters, she'd opted to stay at home instead. She was too tired after getting to bed so late the night before. And what more, something about Vegeta's words resonated within. If his intention had been to guilt-trip her for going so long without being in Trunks' company, then it worked. She'd spent the majority of her day attempting to balance her job with tending to her son's needs. Mrs. Briefs, in her typical kindness, has lent a hand in preparing meals for Bulma to eat at her desk, as well as trying to help keep Trunks from disturbing his mother too much, but it had still been a difficult task.

"How are those blueprints coming along, Bulma?" Mr. Briefs interrupted his daughter's train of thought, having sneaked up on her while she was distracted with typing into her computer, busy with the task at hand.

"I've been making progress, but it's slow." The Bluehead replied, not even glancing up from her computer screen. "I've been able to work out the coding sequence you asked for. That should control the timing sensors, but it's still going to be a few days before it's de-bugged enough to thoroughly test."

"Great, great." Mr. Briefs said, setting something down on the shelf beside the desk. Bulma looked up with half-interest, glazing over the roll that her father had just placed. "Hey-what's that, Dad?" She didn't recognize the size, nor the color of paper, so she knew it was a project she hadn't yet worked on.

"This? Oh, I just got back from the new property. Had a walk-through with your boy!"

Completely clueless, Bulma pushed herself back from the desk in her chair and crossed her arms. She cocked an eyebrow, sending her dad an incredulous look. Nothing about what he'd just said made any sense. She was used to him speaking in such a manner – Mr. Briefs had a tendency to assume the person he was communicating with knew more than they actually did. Therefore, he wasn't always the best about clarifying information. Bulma knew this, and she was used to it. Yet, just like any person dealing with a parent's unfavorable trait, she found it a tad irritating. "Okay. Let's try this again." She spoke slowly, nodding at her father and fighting back a grin. "Now, where exactly did you just come back from? And what do you mean by 'my boy?' You mean Trunks? Dad, he's asleep in the other room. I seriously doubt you went anywhere with him!"

"No, no! Where's your head, dear?!" Mr. Briefs shook stifled a chuckle. "I was at the new property!"

"What do you mean?!" Bulma returned, her voice rising slightly. She'd already asked him to make himself more clear, and it was as if he were speaking in circles. "What new property?!"

It was then that Mr. Briefs went back to the shelf, retrieving the blueprints he had set down. "You really must have had a long day. You mean to tell me you've forgotten about the house we're building for Vegeta already?"

The desktop was cleared with a swipe of Mr. Briefs' arm, and a moment later his blueprints were being spread across it. Bulma's eyes widened, taking in the parcel with shock. "He's having you design his own home?" Sure enough, inscribed on the paper was the detailed planning of a house to be. She placed a hand over the blueprint, brushing her fingers against the fibers as if to confirm it was real. Her eyes quickly scanned it, not bothering to take in every single aspect. She was looking over the parcel as a whole, her mind still registering the fact that she was indeed looking at the floorplans to a house. And when Bulma came across the section for the creation of a gravity room, that was all of the confirmation she needed. Unable to fathom the information that was being presented to her, Bulma clamped her eyes shut to shield herself from seeing anything else.

"He's... having you... design his own home..." She repeated, choking back her shock as she completed her own sentence. Her body was in denial. Somehow, despite her willful indifference to the saiyan – despite her trepidation to rekindling their relationship, she hadn't been expecting him to actually leave. It had always been her biggest fear. In the past he'd hurt her so badly with how many times he took off, leaving her with an isolating sense of abandonment that was hard to come to terms with. This hurt was forever stuck in the back of her mind, and she found herself having difficulty moving past it. It was an anxiety that haunted her, yet ever since Cell's defeat Vegeta had been sticking around. He'd ignored her gripes and her stubbornness, and he'd continued to reside in the Briefs household, despite it all. Slowly, but surely, Bulma had grown used to his presence. She'd begun to even expect the idea of him staying, like a rock that would obediently withstand any hardship. Her fears had slowly started to ease, and they might have even completely diminished by that point if it hadn't been for his recent behavior. But the fact was that she really had been getting over her worries. She had been growing to accept Vegeta's constant presence, and even appreciate the company of him staying at her house. She had slowly been learning to trust that he would be there for a very long time…

And now?

Now she'd come to find that he was planning to leave after all, and he hadn't even told her. She had to find out through someone else, and that made the blow feel even worse.

"Did you think Vegeta would go to somebody else for help with matters like these? Of course I'm assisting him!" Dr. Briefs replied, completely oblivious that he was dropping such a bomb on his daughter. He'd assumed that she'd known of his plans to move out. Surely, when it came to something as big of a deal as moving out, Bulma would have been in on it! Especially when it was with the man who fathered her own child! "Why would I not help him? The boy is family!"

"I see…" Bulma gulped, nodding slowly as her mind raced to understand what she was being told. "Right. Of course."

..

It seemed as if hours passed before she was able to crawl upstairs and find the privacy of her bedroom, her mood having boiled to the point that her hands were shaking. She was angry, she was hurt, and she was frightened. She just needed a moment to gather herself – that was all she needed, a single moment! She dropped her body onto her bed, her mind a blur as she reached for something - anything. Her fingers coming into contact with a pillow, her knuckles trembling as she gripped. She held it to her face as she let out a primal sound of release. Her heart rate was increasing as she exhaled, her emotions running their course. A deep breath, and she continued to take her feelings out on the cushion before her. Downstairs Mrs. Briefs was running a hot tap over some dirty dishes. She could hear muffled screams coming from upstairs, yet she was used to hearing such things in a house filled with such strong individuals and a growing baby. Her daughter didn't sound distraught, rather she sounded frustrated or enraged – a typical reaction Bulma had to an assortment of things. It could have been something serious... But then again, it could have been something as minor as tripping over a book she'd left in the floor! So Mrs. Briefs, scrubbing at a pan with a scouring pad, shrugged and began to hum out loud to drown out the sound.

Bulma let out one last muffled yell into the pillow before tossing it aside. She sighed, her cheeks stained red with tears as she looked up at the ceiling above. Her chest heaving, she wiped at her eyes and shook her head. How could he do this? How could he do this to her and Trunks? She'd always reluctantly expected Vegeta to leave. It was something he had a history of doing. He'd maintained a steady pattern of disappearing – no - abandoning Bulma. He'd done it to her too many times throughout the early stages of their relationship. He would just leave suddenly, with hardly any warning or explanation, and it would be weeks – even months before she would hear from him again. This constant disappearing act of his had left a scar in Bulma's character, and it left her in a subtle state or worry that it would happen once again. Now that fear was becoming a reality, and little did she realize how big of a role she'd played in contributing to the saiyan's decision.

Sure, she hadn't been the most easy of people to get along with. And she had been feeling guilty about the way she'd acted towards him the night before. But it was obvious that his plans had begun long ago, and there was no relation between him leaving and their most recent fight. She'd told him many times, from the moment that Future Trunks disappeared in his time machine, that she had no desire to get back together with Vegeta. She'd made herself clear, she'd tried to stand her ground. And Vegeta was the one who remained relentless, pursuing her attention with any chance he got. She told him repeatedly that she didn't want him back, and yet he'd gotten to her. He'd imposed himself on her just enough that her emotions were finally starting to turn around.

And, as soon as she came to enjoy his company, he had grown cold. He'd exploded at her for receiving a minor gift from an apprentice, he'd distanced himself from her, he'd turned away. Had it all just been a game to him after all? A challenge that he wanted to see if he could achieve – attempting to sway Bulma once she'd grown fed up with his bullshit? Only to lose interest once he realized that he was succeeding in winning her over? How long had he been planning to move out for? How long was the construction and designing of the home underway? What about Trunks – the time Vegeta had been spending with him? Had he ever even cared about his son, or had that just been part of the act?

All she could think as she turned onto her side was 'I knew it. This is why I couldn't get involved with him again, and I still fell for it. I knew he was going to leave.'