Hi guys!

Thanks for all of the reviews over the last few chapters! I'm sorry this took me so long - my life has been changing in absolutely every way imaginable over the last several weeks, and I have had hardly any free time because of all of the resulting arrangements I've had to make. I think it is all going to be for the better, but it made it a lot harder to double check this chapter. I did my best though, so sorry in advanced if you see any typos. Everytime I read my chapters I want to change so many things, and it makes the review process take forever. ^^ I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you so much for being patient and waiting, I know it's really mean to leave off at such a cliffhanger and then go so long without following up. I appreciate you being loyal and following me through all of this! You are all so amazing.

With a thud the helicopter landed on the grass of the Briefs property. Bulma shut off the ignition, taking a deep breath as the engine slowed to a halt and silence fell over the vehicle. In her lap was Trunks, who had fallen asleep during their flight. The helicopter was dark, the baby's face being illuminated by the moon in the sky. Bulma smiled down at her son, feeling weak under the weight of what had just happened to them.

Kicking the door open, the Bluehead stepped out with him cradled in her arms. The night was silent, a slight breeze blowing her hair back as she took in her surroundings. She hated to admit it, but she was scared to be standing alone in the dark after what just occurred. She felt vulnerable and paranoid, glancing over her shoulder to make sure nobody was going to jump out at her. Deciding it was safe, Bulma broke into a speed walk, approaching her house as quickly as she could manage without waking the boy. How relieving it felt to throw the lock when she stepped into the dark building and shut the door behind!

The house was dim and empty – her parents still being out of town until the following evening. Bulma was somewhat happy about this, not wanting to have to answer any of her mother's prying questions about her night. It was nice, in that sense, to know that she would have several hours to cope and pull herself together. Despite this she was feeling distraught. She didn't want to be bothered by anybody, and yet she didn't want to be alone. Simply walking through the dark house was enough to test her nerves, and she couldn't help but to feel on edge as she scurried up the stairs.

Not much time has passed when Vegeta stepped into her bedroom. His long sleeved shirt was covered in dirt, but otherwise unscathed. Humans were so weak – they stood no chance against him. Rikuto's punishment required no struggle on Vegeta's part, and as a result he'd managed to stay relatively clean. He gazed through the room to see Bulma sitting on her bed, Trunks asleep by her side. She was stroking a hand through her son's lavender hair, silently attempting to apologize for how she'd endangered him. She didn't look up to greet the saiyan as he stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the dozing boy. How much time had passed since she'd arrived back at home, it was hard to be certain. And while her body lacked energy, her mind was too distracted to sleep.

She heard his boots as he crossed the floor, stopping at the side of the bed to stand over her. The Bluehead squeezed her son's little hand, her face dropping even more to avoid the saiyan's gaze. She didn't want to look up at him, unsure of what to do or say. She didn't know what Vegeta was thinking, but her worst fear was that it was shame. Vegeta was a man who craved vigor – he took great pride in the ability to fight and defend one's self. This was a man who had spent countless hours of his life perfecting his physical capabilities in preparation to ward of any enemy - and what was she?

She hadn't even been able to protect their son.

How pathetic she must be in his eyes...

"Woman," His voice monotone, she felt a rough palm brushing against the top of her head.

Her first instinct was to take in a sharp breath. Her scalp was still throbbing from when Rikuto had been yanking her hair during their fight, and she could feel the blood pulsing through the top of her head from being touched. She fought the urge to slap his hand away, quivering under his fingers.

Vegeta noticed her tense reaction – was it injury? He quickly pulled his hand back to his side, watching as her body relaxed once more.

"Woman." He repeated, his voice neither soft nor harsh. "Look at me."

She did as he asked, but she took her time in turning around. And after what seemed like an eternity, she was finally peering up at him. She was almost relieved – in his eyes she saw no shame. In fact, she hardly saw anything in them at all. Just cold orbs, gazing over hers, glazing over her body.

Vegeta was surprised to see that her eye was sporting a dark hue, a bruise that was actively forming. Her lower lip was somewhat swollen – either from a hit, or perhaps she'd bitten it herself? Her hair was a mess, dirt caked on her skin. She apparently hadn't done much to clean herself up after getting home – she hadn't even changed out of her clothes yet.

The saiyan felt anger well up in his gut, but it wasn't as strong as it had once been. The bloodlust in his core had already been satisfied, and in this current moment there was nothing more to do to Rikuto Kubo. Revenge had already been served. Yet inside there was something else. Vegeta had encountered similar feelings when he would see his woman distraught or crying – but this? This was more intense than anything he'd ever encountered before, and he wasn't prepared.

There had been so many times that he or one of his comrades had been injured during battle. That was just a part of it. It was inevitable that some type of cut or scrape would be acquired during a fight, and it was something that one was expected to just suck up and deal with. In the past he could remember mocking Raditz for complaining about a considerable plate-shaped wound. Raditz had obtained it during battle with a rather unruly bandit from the red planet to the East. Vegeta had shown no mercy in ridiculing him to the point that Raditz refused to show himself for several days. Vegeta once worked alongside a militant that had his leg ripped off during a fight. And did that man whine about it? No – he'd continued on as if nothing had happened. There was nothing else to do but move on with any scars and wear them as a badge of honor!

But, a wound on his woman? She wasn't conditioned to battle! She was too soft – too fragile – such things just didn't suit her! Whatever emotions he was grappling with inside, they began to reflect in his pupils. Bulma noticed this, for a light began to flicker in his once-cold eyes. And she was surprised by just how alleviating it was to see such an expression on his face. She could feel her own defenses subsiding. Without speaking a word she stood from the bed, careful not to wake her sleeping child with her movements. Vegeta stepped back to give her space, and he looked over her body once more with this new angle. Her left wrist was a deep hue of blue and red, finger shaped prints left embedded into her skin from where Rikuto had gripped her.

Silently Bulma bent over her son, lifting him into her arms. Holding her head high, she passed by the saiyan as she made her way towards the door. He watched as she went, assuming that she was taking Trunks to his crib. And his theory was not proven to be wrong when she returned moments later empty-armed.

She walked back into her bedroom looking much more helpless than she had when she'd left. Delayed emotions she'd been avoiding all night were finally catching up to her. Shoulders slouched, cheeks strained from the deep scowl that was plastered on her face, she stood in the doorway. The house rang with silence as the two locked eyes. They were each waiting for the other to speak. Vegeta didn't want to break the silence. It wasn't his place. He could see as the dread on her face grew stronger, her blue orbs studying his dark eyes. But he refused to speak.

In this moment her needs were the priority.

Finally, after several minutes, the silence was broken.

"Go ahead."

The saiyan's expression did not change. "What?" He replied, not missing a beat. He was standing, his back straight. He took the situation seriously, handling it as if he were reporting to a commander. He would do whatever she required in that moment. All he needed to know was what it was that she wanted.

Bulma took in a large breath, gulping down her air before exhaling a deep sigh. "Go ahead," She repeated, her voice trembling this time. "Say what you will. I deserve it, don't I?"

This was when the robotic demeaner that Vegeta had taken finally ceased. He raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised by her body words. He'd been considering her needs as priority, and it seemed as if she were doing the same in return. She looked at him as if she were an unruly deviant who awaited repercussion – as if she'd done something wrong! And he truly hadn't been expecting it.

"I know I let him down. I couldn't even protect him," She continued. "So, go ahead... Tell me that I'm a failure, just go ahead..."

How peculiar the human race was. What a weak species of mortals they were, unaccustomed and unprepared to endure any type of physical excursion. And yet they experienced the guilt that saiyans did when losing battle? When a saiyan won a fight it was the most exhilarating sensation one could live. Much like an orgasm, the bliss of defeat would boil through the saiyan's veins and rattle down their spine – an addictive pleasure to say the least. And when a battle was lost it was the most humiliating and shameful experience, one that would haunt them for days – sometimes to the point that the saiyan could never show their face again. Was Bulma encountering a similar feeling at this moment? Despite the fact that she wasn't even bred to brawl? Why should she have such a post-loss dishonor?

"Woman," He breathed, his eyes widening. Why - she was crying now! Complete and utter tears! But what in the world would she have to feel such disgrace about? She'd been savagely attacked! It'd been completely unprovoked and absolutely un-warranted! She hadn't even been given the dignity of having both hands free to defend herself with! It was long established in saiyan culture that anyone who dared to touch the kin of royalty would be slaughtered – so what fault was it of hers that some fool had chosen to assault her?! How could she find such fault with herself over the matter?

Bulma now had her palms cupped over her face, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed into her hands. How many times Vegeta had seen her cry, and never before had it been quite like this. She wasn't angrily sobbing obscenities at him or bawling as loud as her lungs were capable. No, she was weeping softly into her hands, sniffling profusely as she let out the saddest series of whimpers he'd ever heard. The sensation boiling in his stomach had never been so strong, the desire to console overwhelming. He made his way for her, outstretching his arms and pulling her into his chest. She reacted by falling into him as if she'd lost the capacity to stand, wrapping her arms around to his back, pressing her cheek into his pectoral muscle. She let out another sharp sniffle.

"Woman," He whispered, hoping that Trunks wouldn't be woken up by their exchange. "Don't weep. You did no wrong."

"I couldn't protect him," She sobbed, her voice muffled by his chest. "I – I shouldn't have been there. I put him in danger, and if anything had happened to him, I - I.."

"You didn't put anyone in danger" Vegeta interrupted, his voice stern, hoping to put a stop to her self-deprecation. "You were alone and he thought you were an easy target - don't consider it a personal fault that he chose to take advantage of you."

His words seemed to have an impact, because he could feel the trembles of her sobs growing less strong. She pulled her face from his chest to look him in the eyes, her cheeks swollen from her tears. Her eyes were round, caught off guard by the non-accusatory turn the conversation just took. "Is that just bullshit you're saying to make me feel better?" She breathed.

A slight smirk was forming at his lips – what vulgar language she could have! "Am I known to sugarcoat?" He replied bluntly. "You can't fault yourself for some fool's haste decision. He saw you were at a disadvantage and chose to strike. That makes him a coward. You did not ask for it, and you still put up a good fight. You didn't hear because you'd left, but the man told me you kicked him. He was crying about it. Imagine that, woman."

Her tears were completely dry now. "You came to help us." She commented, as if she'd only just realized that Vegeta had intervened with Rikuto's attack.

"I sensed your ki flare from the moment it started. The boy's was growing stronger than I'd ever felt before. I knew something was the matter, and I followed it as soon as I sensed it. It only took about 10 minutes for me to arrive, but 10 minutes is a long time during battle." Gently he pulled his hand up, brushing his knuckle across her face, gesturing at the bruise under her eye. "I take responsibility for the damage he inflicted."

Bulma grabbed his hand, pulling it down from her head. "No, don't apologize," She was nearly smiling now, her eyes locked with his. "You saved us. If you hadn't intervened, he would have-"

"Nevermind about that." Vegeta interrupted again. He took this moment to place his hands on her shoulders, gripping them firmly to prevent her from continuing with her words. She didn't need to detail what could have happened. She didn't need to concern herself with it. "You are my kin." Thumbs massaging her skin, hoping that his point would resonate with her. "It is my duty. I will always protect you. I regret that I could not be there sooner. I take responsibility for the pain he inflicted before my arrival."

He'd told her this before, but this time it felt different. He'd done it – he'd really protected her. Tears began to roll down her cheeks again, overwhelmed. In that moment Bulma felt such a weight being lifted from her shoulders - one that she'd been subconsciously carrying with her for quite some time. She'd realized during the assault just how foolish she had been to focus so much on the negatives when it came to Vegeta. It'd been her way of defending herself, not wanting him to inflict any more emotional hurt than he already had. But she'd realized she didn't want to do that anymore - and his recent words did nothing but add to her epiphany. All of the insecurities and harbored resentment seemed to fade in an instant, and she wrapped her arms around the saiyan to sink into his chest once more, sniffling with relief.

It was strange, Vegeta had been trying to get on her good side ever since the day that the Teenaged Trunks had returned to the future. What more, ever since the saiyan had witnessed that man attacking her, all Vegeta wanted was to see her. All he could think of during the flight back to the Briefs residence was how much he wanted to have Bulma near, to make sure she was alright. There was an intense desire to hold her tight - an instinct within that told him to protect and comfort the one who was his mate. Yet, what Vegeta wasn't accustomed to, was his desire to be close to Bulma - to rub skin with her - and not in a lust-fueled way. Sex was not the ultimate goal with this encounter. He just wanted to press her body firmly against his - as if to verify their presence. To verify that she was alive. She was still sobbing into his chest, and he held her even tighter. His face dropped to brush against her hair, and softly he reminded her that she was safe.

Bulma turned to look up into Vegeta's face. Her night had been hell, but she couldn't have asked for anything more in that moment. When Rikuto had caught her near her helicopter her mind had been stuck on Vegeta, craving nothing more than to feel the warmth of his embrace. She had truly believed she'd never encounter it again. Yet here she now stood, safe and warm, with a man who made her truly feel that what had happened hadn't been her fault...

He didn't blame her...

"You're smiling again." Vegeta noted out loud, bringing Bulma out of her daze. She could feel, with dismay, as his grip around her loosened. "You need to get some rest."

The saiyan had had a sobering moment when he'd seen the relief on her face. He needed to give her space. He'd done his part in protecting and comforting her. And he was losing the grip he typically had over his own emotions. Before this night she'd been making a point to keep her distance from him, and Vegeta had no intention of using the situation to impose himself on her. Perhaps she required comfort, but was it really what she'd want if her emotions weren't in such a state? He wanted to respect her – he didn't want to overstep a boundary. But as he made to step back, Bulma grabbed his forearm. "Wait," She breathed. Vegeta stood, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Please," She whispered, as if she understood why he'd made to leave. "Stay with me."

Vegeta's eyes widened, and his posture softened.

Bulma's fingers loosened their grip around his arm, sliding down to his hand. She held it, her fingers interlacing with his own. The saiyan looked to his hand as she did this – had they ever held hands before? No, never before had they engaged in a gesture such as this. Never before had he felt such a sensation. Her soft digits intertwining with his rough calluses, a sensation unlike anything else he knew. Bulma turned then, giving his arm a light tug as she gestured him to go with her. He followed obediently, and when she stopped at the foot of the bed she turned to face him once more.

A moment later her arms were wrapped around him again, her face pressed against his chest. Vegeta returned the embrace, though his grip wasn't as firm as it'd once been. Her behavior was so sudden – such a contrast to how he'd grown used to her acting towards him. How many times in recent past had she yelled at him, told him that she could never trust him, could never be with him? This just didn't feel right! He stepped back, and she looked up into his eyes questioningly. "Woman, you're vulnerable right now." He couldn't help but think that she wasn't in her correct state of mind. Perhaps she was still in shock from everything.

This just wasn't right.

The Bluehead was quiet as his words sank in. He really was concerned for her, wasn't he? She was slightly dejected by his suddenly distant demeanor. But she also couldn't help but to appreciate it. He was acting in a manner that respected her previous desire to keep her distance from him. He was trying to abide by that. He didn't know of the epiphany she'd made in the dark alley. He wasn't aware that she'd already decided not to fight with him anymore. She'd always desired him, and she was tired of denying herself. He felt that he'd already done his part in saving her, but she needed more. She stepped towards him again, falling back into their embrace. This time Vegeta held onto her waist hesitantly, as if he were worried that if she got too close he'd lose the capability to resist. Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close so she could whisper in his ear. "Please don't leave. I don't want to be alone tonight. I want you."

It didn't take much more convincing for him to oblige. He was pleased with her confession, the desire inside to hold her close still rampant. He curled his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into his chest. If his woman didn't want to fall asleep alone, then he was going to keep her company. There was something about the way that she fell into his arms, clinging to him as if his body was only thing keeping her from falling to the ground, and he couldn't help but to plant an assuring kiss on the top of her head – which he noted that she didn't resist.

He'd seen it coming. He'd given her his last warning. And now there would never be a separation between them again. There was going to be no turning back from this moment. Not even if she woke the next morning and asked him to leave. He couldn't – he wouldn't – not after tonight. He could never leave her alone, not ever again...

He had to admit that there was something internally satisfying about having her so near, feeling the soft of her skin easing against his chest as she nuzzled her face into the arch of his neck. To squeeze her against him. Just as he'd desired, he held her tight, as if to validate her presence. As if to remind her that she was okay, she was strong. If anything had happened to her – anything damaging or permanent – he didn't know what he'd do... But he'd found her just in time. She was well, she was alive, and she would always be his..

..And as the two fell into the bed, with Bulma curling up against him and planting a kiss on his cheek, there was not another place they could have imagined being. She didn't want to let go of him. She didn't want him to leave. After relishing in how warm and secure it felt to be held, Bulma didn't think she'd be able to fall asleep if he got up and left. If he walked away now, he'd leave an empty void. She looked up at his face as if to read his thoughts, and the expression in his eyes was enough to assure her that he was thinking the same thing. He wasn't going anywhere. She gave him a weak smile, her head growing heavy with fatigue. "Turn out the light," she whispered lightly. Vegeta, intoxicated with his own yearnings, didn't need to be told twice. With a click of the table-side lamp, the two were suddenly enveloped by total darkness, relying on their sense of touch to keep them aware of their surroundings.

Vegeta noted how oddly tranquil it felt to have her so near, as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders and sank back against his skin. There was no consequential lust building within, despite the closeness of their bodies and the affectionate kisses she was planting against the lining of his jaw. No, there wasn't an ounce of lust inside – just the strong need to continue holding her tight, as she laid her head on his chest and nuzzled her cheek against it. And all that Vegeta could feel was Bulma, as the two cuddled in the dark. Her shoulder length hair, silky and straight, was still slightly damp from the sweat she'd shed during the assault she'd faced...

… Vegeta allowed his fingers to run through the cyan strands, noting each fiber as they brushed against his palm. And as he listened to the sounds of her breaths, growing deeper as she began to dream, the saiyan couldn't help but give her a soft peck on the spot he imagined was he forehead. How serene things were in that moment. Alone in the dark of this room, with his woman clutching at his shirt in her sleep. As he lay, eyes facing the ceiling that he could not see, the saiyan let out a deep sigh. Completely intoxicated by the strange sensation welling through his core, he slowly closed his eyes. Giving in to the ease that her body was gifting him, he began to succumb to his own fatigue.

Nothing, Vegeta thought, rubbing his rough palm across Bulma's shoulder. There was nothing he would change about this interaction. This was where he needed to be. And what more, despite such an emotional moment that wasn't typical of his ego, there was none of that pride reminding him that he needed to remain tough or strong. He felt more masculine in that moment than he had in a very long time, and his guard had completely dissipated. With his woman by his side, this was exactly as things should be.

And the next morning when Vegeta opened his eyes he turned to see that Bulma was gone. For a moment he would have thought it'd all been a dream, but he was quickly sobered from such thoughts at the realization that he was laying in her room.

"Fuck," He muttered, looking around to confirm that he was alone.

A quick cliffhanger - the next chapter might be shorter than normal! That's alright, though, I think? If it is shorter then that means I will be able to update sooner, and I think that's better than having such a long gap between new chapters! ^^ I hope you enjoyed this one! It was long and sappy, but I think we needed that. :) I tried to keep Vegeta's reaction appropriate considering the situation, but I also worked hard to keep him in character. I hope you felt the same, but please let me know what you thought about it!