Vegeta Vegeta

by General Fluffer McKitty

Vegeta and his family recieve some unexpected houseguests and all the while the non-Saiyan women are plotting something...

1. Part 1

Bulma sighed as another loud crash roused her from her work, only this time it wasn't from her lab. 'Probably Vegeta blowing up the gravity machine,' she thought wryly as she pushed the stool back. 'Or maybe it's Trunks this time. He's getting close to Vegeta's record. And it's his turn again.' This was about the fourth time this week it had happened. She was planning on putting the case of capsules outside the door and letting them use them as they please.

She rubbed her head as she walked into the light outside of her black hole of a lab. "Memo to me: install light." She shook her head and picked up one of the many capsules kept in her basket and smiled as she went to find whichever Saiyan blew up the gravity room this time and attempt to kill them. Or hurt them anyway. Then she stopped in mid-step and backtracked so she was looking back into the main hall of Capsule Corp. She squinted through the dark goggles she wore to make out the microscopic controls to her family's favorite toy, but standing in the brightly-lit hole in the wall, she could see a familiar shadowed shape.

"Vegeta!" she yelled, exasperated already. "We have doors for a reason! Of all the things you SHOULD'VE learned by now is to USE them, NOT make your own!" Then she gave him another glance. "He's TALLER than I am," she muttered as she flipped the goggles up to get a better look. "You're not my husband," she finally told him matter-of-factly.

The next thing she knew she was being held about a foot off the floor by her neck. She sighed and went limp, rolling her eyes. 'Why does this keep happening to me?' she moaned silently. Then she switched her attention to the man holding her as he began to speak. "You should know not to use that voice with the king of the Saiyans," he said gruffly.

Two things clicked for Bulma. He'd addressed her in Saiyan, which meant he had no idea what the hell she just said, besides the name of their planet, and there had to be a grain of truth in what he said, otherwise he wouldn't know the language. "I thought you were dead," she finally said in the sixth language she'd learned.

"As you can see," he said, tightening his grip on the back of her neck, "I am not."

"But you will be if you don't put me down! Ow!" she yelped as he twisted the skin a little. "Dammit! Put me down you moron!"

"Woman! What is all the damn noise about?"

Bulma turned -- well, as much as she could, given her position -- to see Vegeta standing in the doorway, towel around his neck like he'd been working out. Then he noticed their company. Bulma could see the barely perceptible flick of his eyes from her to the giant holding her.

"Let her go," Vegeta commanded gruffly, dropping the towel, and the annoyed look on his face. Now he looked pissed. "Now."

"Yeah. I'd love to hang around all day, but I have work to do," Bulma said as she tried to kick him. And failed so miserably he didn't even notice she'd made the effort.

The taller man only pulled Bulma closer. "Tell me a good reason why. She would make such a good palace servant." He smiled a little and stroked her cheek. She responded by biting his finger and almost breaking his skin. And her tooth. "And she wold be so much fun to break. Spirited, for a human."

"She is my mate, and I demanded that you release her," Vegeta explained patiently. Bulma rolled her eyes. If anything, he sounded more arrogant that usual, but she would complain AFTER it got her down. "Now do as I say."

Bulma was instantly dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Well, almost to the floor. She was caught only seconds before impact, and she looked up into the pale blue eyes of her smiling daughter. The one who had materialized out of seemingly nowhere. She stuck out her tongue at the towering stranger and hugged Bra. "Thank you sweetie," she said as she kissed the little girl's head.

"It's OK Mommy," she said as she set her mother gently on the floor. Even though she was only six, she was unusually fast, even by Saiyan standards. That made Vegeta proud, even though somewhere in the back of his mind he cringed a little that a woman would be stronger than he once she was older. But that part of him was pushed away by the proud father. Bulma made sure of that.

"How about getting your lazy brother out of bed?" Bulma asked as she pushed Bra toward the door that led to her first child's room.

Bra grinned. "OK, Mommy. Waking Trunks up is fun. He's always silly." She skipped off, humming something that sounded like a lullaby Gohan had once sung to her.

She turned back to her husband, who was still trying unsuccessfully to glare down the stranger. "Vegeta, who the hell is he?" she asked, knowing the only thing the so-called "king of the Saiyans" would understand was "Vegeta." She also knew there was a certain amount of truth in the nutcase's story; she'd been tempted to reach for the tail hovering just beyond her fingertips.

"My father," Vegeta replied darkly, starting to pace. Bulma shook her head after trying to follow him with her eyes and stared at the floor until the world stopped spinning. Vegeta had a nasty habit of pacing when he was either frustrated or pissed off, and it nearly drove her insane. If she wasn't trying to keep her lunch down from becoming so dizzy.

When he stopped, Bulma put a hand on his arm to keep her husband from taking another mid-morning stroll. "I think he's getting a little pissed," Bulma muttered, jerking her thumb at the king.

But the OTHER arrogant bastard had no regard for his grown son. Instead, he pressed by Vegeta and came withing centimeters of Bulma, still glaring. "You will show the proper respect for the Prince," he snarled menacingly. "Be grateful you are his mate, or I would punish you myself."

Bulma continued to roll her eyes. "Here we go again. ANOTHER one with an ego the size of a planet. I'm still trying to figure out how they're room for anyone ON Earth with HIM here." Then she switched languages so their visitor could understand. "And I AM giving him more respect than most people do. And to tell you the truth, I'm not scared of you. Hell, I bet MY power is as high as yours."

He opened his mouth again, but the speech died in his throat as Bra walked back in and tugged on his pants leg. "Daddy," she complained, rubbing her eyes, "he won't get up."

King Vegeta looked down and scowled at the little girl. "Get away from me, brat," he growled.

She made a face. "I hate having to translate that. Talk right." She tugged at his leg again. "Come on, Daddy."

He raised his arm to backhand her, but Vegeta caught his father's hand before it could move. "Don't. Even. Think. About it," he hissed menacingly, crushing his father's wrist in his hand. King Vegeta face twisted like he had to sneeze but refused to make a sound of pain.

"Daddy?" Bra asked again, then she looked up and realized it was her grandfather's attention she was trying to get. She attached herself to her father's leg and said again, "He won't get up."

"Who?" Vegeta let his father's hand go, but kept a careful eye on it as he knelt to see his daughter.

"Trunks! I even tried Mommy's way, and he didn't move." She stomped her foot. "Not fair." She pouted and looked up at him.

"Let him sleep," Bulma said, sounding tired herself. "I'm going back to the lab and try to make a control unit you CAN'T find and destroy." Then she thought that over. "Maybe I'll put it on the OUTSIDE because even if it was HALF a centimeter square, you'd find it!"

Vegeta only smiled and waved his hand to show her that he'd heard. He then rose and looked his father in the eye. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

King Vegeta didn't get a chance to answer. A familiar face popped into view, and a timid, "Your Highness?" made its way to their ears.

K. Vegeta looked behind him and nodded. "Come in Bardock."

"Excuse me!" Bulma yelled as she stomped back into the room. "This is MY house and you can't just go around inviting--" She cut herself off, a mischievous smile forming. "He's the scientist, right?"

Bardock looked confused, but he said, "I am, yes. Why?"

Bulma's smile turned into a full-blown grin. She casually tossed her arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her. "O, boy, do I want to talk to you."

Vegeta watched his wife and old guard wander off into the lab. He smirked and shook his head. "They'll be there for a while. Now, do you mind telling me WHY THE HELL YOU'RE HERE?!"

The king didn't answer. He only looked back to where Bulma had taken Goku's father. "What the hell are they doing?" he wondered aloud.

Vegeta looked back and smirked. "I have no idea, nor do I care. I just know that's the NEXT thing I'm going to blow up. It's not like it hasn't happened before." One loud explosion followed by rapid-fire chain-reaction booms then Bulma's screeching proved him right. He shrugged and smirked. "And again."

"I told you not to touch that, dammit!" she continued to yell. "I thought you Saiyans were supposed to be smart! Or at least YOU! You guys need a reality check, and FAST!"

They both came out covered in various colors and assortments of goo. Bardock was accepting the towel Bulma handed him when he noticed Vegeta. He dropped the cloth and bowed. "I'm sorry, my prince, I didn't see you," he babbled.

"That's because he's so damn short," Bulma muttered as she wiped her own face.

K. Vegeta scowled. "You should beat her more. She has no respect for who you are."

The moment the words left his mouth, Bulma jumped in. "He doesn't beat me at ALL! He KNOWS better!"

Vegeta smirked at his father's slightly slack lower jaw. "When she supplies the food..." he said casually. "Isn't it AMAZING what you can get used to?"

Just then, Trunks decided to make an appearance. Bulma gave him a kiss hello and disappeared back into her lab with Bardock. Yawning, Trunks made his way past his father and grandfather, barely noticing them in the zombie-like state he was always in before he had his coffee. "Morning, Father," he muttered to King Vegeta as he slumped by.

His real father yelled into the lab, "Keep quiet in there, woman!" She replied with an obscenity, which only made him half-smile, then he looked at his son, ticking off the seconds on his fingers when the lavender-haired boy trailed back to his door.

When the cup touched his lips, Trunks' eyes widened, and he dropped the empty mug and dashed back to the two Vegetas. The last finger on his father's hand was down, and he was rewarded with a smirk of satisfaction. But his attention was focused on the king.

He studied the older man for a minute, then looking back to his look-alike before returning his gaze to the other. "Who the hell are you? You're not my father."

Bulma came back in again, in need of another towel for Bardock. "So, you're finally up. I need someone to supervise Klutz here in my lab." She jabbed the full-blooded Saiyan with an elbow and tossed him the cleaning cloth. "Get cleaned up."

"I thought Goku was trained in the lab," Trunks said as he picked up the scattered pieces of the porcelain cup.

"He is, dear," Bulma said, placing another kiss on her son's cheek and ruffled his already messed-up hair.

Trunks vainly tried to tease the purple strands into something manageable as he spoke. "Then why a supervisor?" Then he got a good look at the man with his mother. "That isn't Goku," he said dumbly.

Bulma laughed and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek as well. "Vegeta, I always told you your son was smart. And you never believed me."

"That's because you're usually wrong," he grunted. Bulma only batted her eyes innocently and roped her arm around his waist, rubbing right under his tail. It was amazing. Vegeta was a rock-hard, ex cold-blooded killer, but Bulma could get a handle on him sometimes simply because the unbreakable Saiyan prince was ticklish.

Vegeta tried his best not to squirm. Not only was Bulma the only one who could get CLOSE enough to tickle him, she was the only one that could make it tich and force him to laugh at the same time. It drove him crazy, and Bulma loved it because it was the only way to physically get to him.

"Let me get changed," Trunks said, his face changing to a previously unexplored shade of red he gazed at his parents.

"Thanks, Trunks," Bulma said. Then she shook her head. To Vegeta she said, "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He blushes at the slightest thing."

Vegeta grunted again. "He'll be fine, woman."

"But your daughter might not be," she pointed out. Vegeta's head snapped around to find Bra bouncing on happily on her grandfather's shoulder. He'd forgotten she was even there.

Bra got out one more giggly "Grandpa!" before Vegeta swiped her off in time to avoid a punch.

"I told you not to hit her," he growled, putting Bra gently on the ground. "This is my daughter."

K. Vegeta eyed her lazily. "You had freaks for children?"

Bra looked up, and Trunks was suddenly at her side. Bulma opened her mouth, but for once Vegeta beat her to the punch. "They're not freaks. They are the Saiyan Elites, and SHE is about as strong as you are." He tapped Bra's head affectionately. "For that matter, so is my mate."

"Yeah!" Bra said, stomping on her grandfather's foot. "So there!"

Trunks smiled at his little sister's antics. "You know how many people have called us freaks and died?" He grinned and spread his hands. "I seriously doubt even Bardock, or my mother could count that high."

Vegeta grunted again. "I thought you were supposed to be watching him."

"Yeah, but right now Mother's getting him some new armor. The last explosion really did a number on it." He grimaced at the thought, then turned to see Bulma after the latest explosion stopped echoing.

"That's it! Get out of my lab! Out!" She was almost totally black from the smoke and ash, then she turned to look at Bra. "Did you play with Mommy's glass prisms?"

Bra nodded and said meekly, "Pretty building blocks."

Bulma suppressed a groan and tried to rearrange her features into a non-threatening look. It took a few seconds, but she eventually got them into their correct configurations. "Now, didn't Mommy tell you NOT to play with her glass prisms?"

Bra nodded again, a little relieved now that her mother didn't look like she was going to commit bloody murder. "Sorry Mommy."

Bulma scooped her daughter into her arms and smiled reassuringly. "I want you to put them back where you found them, OK?"

"Uh huh," Bra said as she hopped down.

Bulma sat back. "At least Saiyans have strong memories," she muttered. But the next explosion sent her running. She came back with a sputtering Bra in her arms and glared at Vegeta. "At least that's what HE said."

Vegeta smirked and held his arms out for Bra. The little girl transferred herself to her father's arms. "You're all dirty," he commented gruffly, but his eyes held a touch of affection for his only daughter.

"So are you," Bulma said as she hugged him from the back, and Bra wound her tiny arms around his neck.

"Daddy dirty," she teased, giggling.

"Boy! Get in here!" Vegeta roared. Trunks lazily poked his head out of the doorway. "Get her in the bath."

"Sure," Trunks drawled. "Come on, sis. Time for bath." She laughed as he ticked her stomach. "What happened to you?" he asked, looking Vegeta over. He was answered with a glare. "Right. Going."

King Vegeta had been shocked silent during all this. Not only had his son "mated" with a "weakling" human, they'd had half-breed children! And none of them showed the proper respect for the Saiyan Elite! He growled and shook his head. This was almost unbearable for him.

Even now, Bulma was yelling after her son, "Then who's watching my lab?"

Trunks didn't answer, but Vegeta called Bardock out of hiding. He stood, looking rather ragged and uncomfortable, in one of the extra pairs of armor had stashed in the drawer she was currently searching. He tugged at the bottom and looked at at his king.

"Why are you wearing the Prince's armor?" K. Vegeta demanded harshly. After all, Vegeta WAS the only Saiyan currently on the planet.

"Actually, I think that belonged to Goku," Bulma informed him as she straightened. "I'm surprised it's still in one piece, but it'll do until I can get some better quality." She smiled and ran her hand over the tough material and knocked once on it. "It should hold for now."

"Who is this Goku you keep talking about?" Bardock asked as he tried to keep the bottom around his waist.

Bulma sighed. "You'd know him better as Kakorrot, wouldn't you? Isn't' that what you always call him, Vegeta?" she asked, batting her eyes. Vegeta only grunted at her.

K. Vegeta's head snapped up and asked the question with Bardock: "Kakorrot's here?"

"Um, YEAH," Bulma said as she resumed the search through the drawer. She pulled out a shirt, shook her head and shoved it back in. Three ratty golf balls, two more tattered shirts and four pairs of jeans met the same fate as she dug on. She pulled out a clear ball and laughed. "Hey! Now that April Fool's Day is over, think we should give this back to Roshi's sister? I think we were both wondering where it got to." She let the crystal ball drop back into the pile of junk accumulating in the drawer. The poor woman had been anything but happy to find it missing.

Yet that wasn't what she was looking for. Vegeta shook his head at the mess she was making and finally asked, "Woman! What on Earth are you looking for?"

Exasperated, Bulma straightened to look at him. "The dragonball, stupid." He raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask. He had a strong feeling he didn't want to know, even IF Bulma was willing to give a straight, honest answer.

The king was too stunned about the mention of the dragonballs to lecture Bulma about insulting the prince. "The dragonballs?" he and Bardock asked together, looking first at each other then back at the married couple.

"I thought Saiyans had good hearing," Bulma shot at them, crossing her arms. "Stay out of my business."

"OUR business," Vegeta corrected.

"No, MY business," Bulma said, batting her eyes again. "I don't want to ruin your surprise. WE have not been sneaking around our husbands' backs for so long just to spoil it NOW. No way!" Before Vegeta could ask, Bulma put a hand to his lips. "And if I told you now, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, but he knew there was no way to get any more information out of her than she wanted to give. So he settled for crossing his arms and giving her a good glare.

Bulma smiled as she picked up the phone. "Hello? Chi Chi? Yeah, I've got it. Somewhere or other... Videl has two? Great! And you have the rest, right? Yeah... I'll bet they'll all be surprised... I can't wait to see their faces!" She laughed at something her friend said and kept the grin as she continued to talk. "Yeah, we need you guys over here. How about breakfast? We were planning to eat around... ten? Yeah... that's it. Bring Gohan and Pan too... I know. Tell him Trunks is here too. That'll get him over here." Her grin widened a fraction, and she nodded, then she seemed to remember that Chi Chi couldn't see her over the phone. Well, this one anyway.

After a few more minutes of hearing Bulma's side of the conversation, Vegeta was totally lost. Finally she hung up and cried happily, "They're coming!"

"Who?" Vegeta asked, still mentally reviewing the last five minutes of phone time.

Bulma heaved a theatrical sigh. "Everyone!"

Vegeta's eyes visibly widened. "How... how the hell are we going to fit them all in here again? And FEED them all too?!" The last time she'd told him "everyone's coming," half of the employees of Capsule Corp. had showed up at their front door, not to mention Goku and Co. And now there were many more people that "everyone" could refer to.

Bulma giggled a little. "Calm down. It's only Goku and his family."

Vegeta groaned. "Not Kakorrot. What possessed you to invite that idiot?"

"You'll see," she said playfully, poking him in the chest. "That's kinda part of the surprise."

"What surprise?" Trunks asked as he carried Bra back to their parents. He set his little sister on the floor and helped his mother pull some junk out of the drawer.

"You'll see," Bulma repeated.

Trunks shook his head. Trying to get her to elaborate was fighting a losing battle. Unlike his father, he knew and admitted when he was beat. He then turned his attention to his grandfather. "You know, you CAN sit down." He only got a grunt in response. "Like father like son," he muttered to himself.

"O, Trunks. Goten wants to know if you wanted to spar when he gets here," Bulma said causally.

Trunks looked up so sharply he hit his head on the cabinet. "I thought he was banned from the house." The last time he and Goten had a rough-and-tumble fight was the last time Goten was allowed anywhere near Capsule Corp. By himself the black-haired boy had nearly taken down the whole place. Yet the only reason Goten DIDN'T go against the rules was because Vegeta was enforcing them with great enjoyment.

"Not for today," Bulma said. "We want everyone here for this."

"We?" Trunks shook his head. He knew his mother was hell-bent on mischief, and nothing short of Shenlong could change that. And even HE would have a hard time with it. If it were at all possible, that is.

Bulma nodded. She knew that if someone could die of curiosity, Trunks and Goten would be perfect candidates. Like his father, Trunks could school his features into impassivity, but also like his father, he could be read like a book. All Saiyans could. Even Vegeta was easily caught thinking one thing while saying another once one knew what to look for. And she knew right now her son was trying to control himself from lashing out in frustration. She was beginning to enjoy Trunks being that way almost as much as she loved it when Vegeta acted like that. Lately she'd begun to enjoy terrorizing the men in her home even more than usual. And now there were two more to add to the list...

"What we?" Trunks finally asked. He knew Bulma was just trying to get him interested, and dammit, it was working!

"You'll see," she replied simply.

"Yeah, I see something all right. I can see that that's gonna become a very popular phrase in the next few hours," he said dejectedly, sticking his hands in his pockets and slumping off.

Bulma giggled again despite herself. 'I wonder how many times Gohan and Goku got told that already.' she thought idly to herself. She turned to her father-in-law and smiled. "I guess you guys want food too, right?"

K. Vegeta straightened to his full height, almost as tall as Goku now, and said, "You will feed us." But Bulma noticed the lack of cockiness her husband's side of the family was famous for.

"Only if I feel like it," Bulma taunted. "You're in MY house, which means you listen to ME if you want to eat." She shook a finger at him. "And to tell you the truth, I don't see why I shouldn't let you starve. That option is very appealing to me right now."

"I am--"

"The king of the Saiyans, I know," Bulma said. "We've been through this before, remember? You want me to respect and feed you, then I want something from you too."

"What?" he finally asked.

"I'll tell you after I figure it out. But from now until breakfast I suggest you be on your BEST behavior, or you little boys don't get dessert. Or any meal at all."

Vegeta curled his tail around her and smiled slightly at his father. "If you didn't know better, wouldn't you think she was a Saiyan?"

The newcomers didn't have anything to say to that. "So I've been told," she said, smiling up at him. "And sometime I might surprise you."

He grunted. "That would be the day, woman."

Bulma hid a smile. 'Then that day's today, dear.'

K. Vegeta shook his head. Then he looked at his son almost helplessly, as if asking, "What should I do?" He hated the fact that he had to rely on his child -- and even more disgustingly -- that HUMAN.

Vegeta caught the glance and smirked. "If you REALLY want to eat, you'll be nice to her. You might even have to ask," he said as he watched his wife's retreating form. "She might even make you beg for it." He shrugged and leaned against the doorjamb, placing a smug look on his face. "That woman is full of surprises."

K. Vegeta scowled. "I would rather starve than beg to a human. Or beg to anyone."

Vegeta shrugged. "As you will." He followed Bulma to the kitchen and plopped down at the table. "Woman! when is the food going to be ready?"

Bulma's voice came from inside the pantry. "When I find the damn capsules and the Son's get here. For now, go have a chat with your father or something. I'm busy."

"Doing what?" he asked as he ripped aside the curtain.

"None of your damn business," Bulma replied, shoving him back out with surprising strength. "Now get away."

Vegeta chuckled as she vainly tried to push him out. She finally muttered something under her breath and pushed past him, something gathered in the cloth she had in her hands. He reached out to see what it was, and his hand encountered his son. He scowled and went after his wife, only to find she was gone. Well, finding Bulma was never hard. You only had to find where the largest amount of noise was coming from. He located her easily and stared with amusement at the locked -- Saiyan-proof -- door. Only Bulma had forgotten something. The wall....

Vegeta shook his head as he blasted a neat, perfectly round hole next to the door. In the not-so-Saiyan-proof wall.

"Dammit Vegeta!" Bulma shouted as she turned around. "If I WANTED your company, don't you think I would've stayed downstairs?"

"Yes." He looked like he wanted to shrug, but didn't. His hands were on her waist and he pulled her closer. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing that concerns you," she muttered. "At least not yet." She got a raised eyebrow in response. "I though living with me would teach you some manners."

He allowed himself to be shoved away, only to stand about a meter fromm her. He gave her an amused glance. "Living with you would teach me manners, woman?" he asked, the laughter only evident in his eyes.

"That's it! Get out!" Bulma roared as she tackled him. She nearly broke her own shoulder ramming him, but it was enough to knock him out into the hallway. "Go entertain our guests or something." Then she went back through the hole, muttering something or other.

"You're getting better," he hollered, looking over the mysteriously sealed-up guestroom wall. The humor was now in his voice as he turned his back. "Entertain our guests...." His eyes held a mischievous glint. "Hell, why not?"

Bulma didn't answer. She was busy digging through the drawers in the room. She finally came up triumphant with a five-starred ball a little bigger than her fist and cradled it in her hands. "Surprise," she muttered.

The moment his son showed back up, King Vegeta tackled him. "You're a disgrace!" he shouted as he pinned the other Saiyan to the floor. Vegeta smiled his trademark, psychotic grin. The you-don't-know-what-the-hell-you're-getting-yourself-into grin. Even as his father slammed pile-driver fists into him, the look never faded. "Mating with a damned weakling! And those damned FREAKS are the only heirs to the throne! How DARE you consider yourself-"

He stopped himself as Vegeta's crazy grin simplified and coal black eyes darkened ominously. Then -- just as the king was starting to understand the look in his son's eyes -- Vegeta's fist slammed into other's face. The bearded head snapped back, almost breaking the neck, but he didn't budge. Other than being driven back half a foot from the sheer force of the blow anyway.

"Shut up," Vegeta said now that his father was no longer straddling his neck.

"Vegeta, DEAR, is THIS your idea of entertaining the guests?" Vegeta tilted his head back to see Bulma framed in the doorway.

"Of course, woman," Vegeta answered simply. "This is how Saiyans are."

"I know, I know," Bulma said, waving a hand. "All this time with you and I think I'm starting to understand how you and your crazy, fucked-up people are." [ooh! she said a bad word!]

"Is that a compliment, woman?"

"Only you would think that," she muttered. "I don't know. I'm still trying to decide." Inwardly she smiled and finished the thought: 'And after breakfast I'll know for sure.'

"Why do you treat her as an equal?" K. Vegeta demanded, getting over the stars-and-Tweety-Birds phase after rubbing his head a few times.

Vegeta hammered him again, and this time the older warrior was knocked completely off his feet. "Because she IS. What she doesn't have in strength she makes up in other ways." He caught the look Bulma shot him and growled before she could say something stupid.

Again he was too late. Bulma grinned innocently from ear-to-ear as Trunks walked by. "And there's one of the--" Trunks clapped a hand over her mouth more out of reflex than anything else, especially with the glares Vegeta sent in their direction. He smiled and dragged her away at hearing someone yelling.

"But Mom! Vegeta's in there! He'll kill me!"

Bulma got her son's hand away from her mouth using a trick Goku had once shown her. She bit down as hard as she could on the tender space between thumb and forefinger. As he waved his hand away from her, she smiled. "I think that Goku and Chi Chi now." A happy squeal from Bra in the other room made Trunks turn around, but Bulma put a hand on his shoulder. "And that would be Gohan and Pan."