Disclaimer: And I need one why?

RIVALS

"Why do you avoid me?"

"I don't like to fight with you." She juggled packages that threatened to topple. "Besides, I like to shop!"

"I want us to talk," he told her quietly. "Every time I have tried to find out what horrible thing I have done this time, you scream at me to shut up, then huff off."

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. Her packages were carefully placed on the hall bench. Her hands hit her hips. "Are you saying that I'm huffy?" she demanded.

Not again, Vegeta groaned. I don't want to fight with her. His mouth, naturally, said, "You are huffy."

"I. Am. Not. Huffy." She bit out each work, battle lights sparkling in her eyes.

His own eyes narrowed, becoming darker as he fought to stay reasonable. "This is what I mean. I want us to talk. We're fighting."

"And that's my fault?"

The shrill tone hurt his ears, just as the scent she wore annoyed his nose. "I do not want to fight with you, woman."

"My name is not woman." A finger waggled under his nose. "You know my name is not woman!"

He sighed, and reached out to capture the finger. "I know. I don't want us to fight. I want… peace."

"Peace?" She laughed, a touch of mockery ringing in the bell-like tones. "It's a really good thing you aren't an ambassador or something. We'd always be at war!"

That was the last straw. He pulled her firmly against himself, capturing her mouth. The kiss was savage, passionate, demanding. And she fought. As she always did, now. She never surrendered willingly to his touch anymore, never stayed long near him. She rarely shared their bed, sleeping in the labs instead. His anger flared, he fought her struggles with his passion, his strength. Words wouldn't do, and this time he was not going to accept defeat. She would not - must not - deny him again. He tried to show through actions what he couldn't seem to express in words. He needed her, loved her. She didn't listen, so he would show her.

Her struggles grew sporadic as her body began to respond to him. Years of experience went into her seduction, and finally she stopped fighting. She became pliant, but only her body answered his passion and surrendered to his need. She did not. Vegeta realized that when he saw the tears streaming from tightly closed eyes. He stepped back from her, straightened his clothes and then her own with gentle hands.

"I…" He could think of nothing to say in the face of this obvious rejection. Vegeta turned, striding as quickly as he could without running to the one place where he would be left alone. And once there, he threw himself single-mindedly back into his unnecessary training regime. Anything to ease the pain of this total failure.

"I hate him. I hate him!"

"Hate who?"

She whirled, then relaxed. "Oh, it's you."

"You hate me?" A perplexed look crossed the young man's face. "How come?"

"I don't hate you. I hate him." She waved vaguely towards her house.

"Vegeta?" he hazarded.

"Who else?" Another tight circle, stomping off her frustration.

He held open his arms, an invitation. She paused only a moment before rushing to him, collapsing into his arms. He held her a moment, feeling her tears soaking through his shirt. "Want to talk about it?"

There was a long silence. "Not really. I think my father is insane."

Eyebrows raised in surprise, the man replied, "But I thought that was an established fact!"

She giggled, he relaxed. "Oh, it is. They just call him eccentric to be nice. I think… I think he's getting senile, though. I saw him…"

The silence lengthened while he tried to puzzle that out. "You saw him go senile?"

"No, you big dolt!" She knocked him upside the head with the ease of long friendship and familiarity.

"I don't get it." A normal complaint for him.

She looped her arms around his waist, leaned her head against his broad chest. "My family is weird. Eccentric, I guess. Scientists always in their labs, warriors always training, shopaholics never home. I don't know what I mean."

"You forgot the bubble brains," he informed her helpfully.

"I said the shopaholics were never home," was her tart rejoinder.

"Oh. Bunny's still shopping?"

"Bunny will die shopping," the blue-haired woman replied flatly. "And then, she will go to shopper's heaven."

"Is there such a place?"

She looked up to see a face full of astonished wonder. "You dolt! Oh, I forgot the womanizer. Trunks has yet another girlfriend."

"Does that make you upset? And," his voice dropped plaintively, "am I really a big dolt?"

"You're just a big of a dolt as Trunks is. You're just nicer. Give me a kiss?"

"Okay." He pecked her nose. "Better?"

"Not really."

"Not really? But why not? Because Trunks has another new girlfriend?" he teased.

"No, idiot!" She pulled him down, kissed him. "It's got nothing to do with Trunks. I'm just having a really bad day."

"Want to go swimming? I do have a pool at my place."

"Oh? Since when?" She didn't release him, instead pulling him down for another kiss. Strong lips met her own and hesitantly returned the kiss.

"Put it in a couple days ago." His lips brushed hers. "We shouldn't do this."

"Why?" She swept her tongue across his lips, kissing him lightly when he gasped with surprise.

"But… Vegeta…" he protested. "He'll kill me!"

"Vegeta," she said, pressing herself against the taller man, "can't complain about a kiss or two."

"I suppose not." He met her lips with his teeth, nipping lightly.

They went far beyond a kiss.

"Hi Goten!"

"Bra! Hey, the new pool's waiting! Come on," the young demi-Saiyan urged. "I want to see this new suit Pan's been trying to describe."

"Pan! You told him?"

"Not me! I just said you bought some new suit that looked like a dishrag."

"PAAANNN!" Bra threw a towel at her laughing friend. "It does not look like a dishrag!"

"You never saw some of the stuff Mom used to use for dishrags," Goten informed her. "Pan could be right. Go get changed. Are your folks coming?"

"You know perfectly well my dad will be here to make sure I don't decide to marry you, you dolt!" Bra gave Goten a quick kiss on her way inside. "He'd be appalled if I did such a thing!"

"Oh, of course," Goten replied. "Assuming I'd ever marry you!"

She stopped, took the three steps to get back to him, and glared at him. "Are you trying to imply that I'm not wedding material?"

"And have to live with your father?" Goten asked in mock terror. "No way!" He bent his head, kissing her until Pan and Trunks started making gagging noises. He released her then. "Besides, he'd hate having my kids underfoot all the time."

Bra shot a look at the red-haired twins making mincemeat of the dinner that was laid out. "No, he'd hate trying to beat them to the food on a daily basis! Where's your ex-wife, anyway?"

"Paris?" Goten's happy expression vanished. "Ah… she's got no interest in being around a bunch of savages."

"What?!" Pan dashed over to her beloved uncle. "Are you serious? She said that? That…"

Bra darted into the house to avoid hearing the rest. "Hi Goku! Thanks for throwing a pool party for us."

"Well, why have a pool and not use it?" Goku replied, grinning. "Are you going to swim in that?"

"NO! I have a brand new bikini. Is there anyone in the bathroom?"

Goku groaned. "Is there anyone not in my bathroom?" he complained. "Go change in my room. It's empty."

He grasped her hips, groaning as she moved over him. Her movements drew him to the edge, threw him over. He recovered slowly. "Your father will kill me."

"Little late for that, lover." She sat up, smiled down at him. "Besides, he can't say anything more than your father."

"My father?!" Dark eyes clouded in confusion. "Why would he say anything?"

"That's just it," the blue haired beauty above him retorted, "your father wouldn't say a thing."

"I… oh…" The thought he'd been trying to form faded as she began moving again. "Love you."

His father couldn't say anything about their relationship, he realized later, since he didn't know about it. But, he was pretty sure his father would have a lot to say about the situation, and not a bit of it encouraging. And after careful consideration, he determined his brother wouldn't be encouraging, either.

He pushed against the ground, swinging lazily in the hammock as he thought about it. He'd never meant to get into that relationship, in fact, he wasn't entirely sure how it had come about. Adult or not, she was years younger than he! And he… he had other responsibilities.

He shot a guilty look at his children. They should be his first priority. What had he been thinking, to start such a thing? To allow it to start? He wasn't really sure which. And why in the world was he letting it continue?

"Do you like that?" Her hands, running eagerly across his body as she writhed under him. "Or this?" His surprise as she twisted so that she was on top.

Okay, so he knew why it continued. She was an addiction. The hammock continued to sway.

"KAKAROT!" Vegeta yelled in the other's ear.

"AHHH!" Goku tumbled from his seat to the ground. "What'd I do?"

"I want you to come spar with me," Vegeta informed him. "But can I get your attention? Noooo. You're off in dreamland."

Goku stuck his hand behind his head, a sheepish smile escaping. "Sorry Vegeta. You wanted to spar?"

"Yes, fool, I want to spar." Vegeta was silent a moment. "I want you to go all out. I do not want you holding back."

"But, Vegeta!" The look in the other's eyes silenced him. "Have you made it up to three yet?"

"No, and I won't if you keep coddling me. Now, let's go."

They fought for a few hours. "Kakarot?"

"What?"

"How did you get your woman to always want to have you come home?"

Goku paused in midair, assuming his thinking pose. "Um… I'm not really sure. I wasn't trying to make her want me home. I had too much stuff to do that meant I had to be gone."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Vegeta recited, then snorted. "I think not." He caught Goku still off-guard, and sent him plummeting to the ground. He'd think of some way to win Bulma back, without the clown's help.

Vegeta bent over the small disks, etching each with careful precision. The emblem of the royal house of Vegeta was slowly being carved from the light blue turquoise, to be set against the darker piece. He'd been at the task for two months now, and had them almost completed. They would make a fine gift for his wife. He only hoped she would appreciate them.

He paused in his work to look blindly out the small window. Bulma had barely spoken to him since that night in the hall, and he wasn't sure if the earrings he labored over would help his cause or not. His awkward apology had been met with cold silence. He'd finally decided to give her a gift… one that would both show her how he valued her, and how much he really did love her.

"Oh, come on, Bra. You know your father could never mistake you for your mother! You're much too young!"

"Mother makes it a point to look young. I could fool him, if it was worth my while."

"You're the richest girl in town. What would it take?"

Bra examined her fingernails thoughtfully. She looked around at her friends, following their gaze to her big brother. A mischievous grin crossed her face. "If I can do it, you all have to beg my brother to eat his cooking!"

"EWWWW!" But the deal was made.

Hmmdeedum… will Vegeta manage to mistake his daughter for his wife? And will Bulma accept his gift? Along with all those other interesting questions….