It was a scorcher getting out of her nice, cool hatchback and stepping into the oven that was West City in the summer. She panted as she strode up the paved walkway quickly to the Capsule entrance, sighing in relief as a frosty blast of AC fluffed up her long blonde hair and around her legs. Marron dabbed at her perspiring forehead with the back of her hand and looked around the small lobby, unsurprised to find the receptionist absent as it was late afternoon Friday. She punched in her personal family and friends code into the wall intercom and buzzed Bulma's lab. The screen lit up with frizzy blue hair surrounding a grease-covered face as Bulma beamed.
"Marron! What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming over 'til 5?"
"It's 5:10, Miss Bulma." Marron grinned back, also unsurprised that the company's top inventor, engineer, CEO, and genius extraordinaire lost track of time.
"Shoot. I'm late. Vegeta's not gonna be happy with me. But hey, when is he ever happy." The heiress waved a hand flippantly with a titter and unlocked the automatic door between the lobby and the family living quarters before the video went dark.
Without much thought, Marron made her way to the kitchen, passing the covered gardens with bubbling water features and the indoor training room door with a red light bulb above the thick steel portal in the 'on' position.
The vast kitchen gleamed with marbled countertops and a large silver sink, the hum of cleaning bots making their rounds on dirt patrol to and from the kitchen and the living room. The only mess in the kitchen looked like the remains of a half-eaten sandwich amongst a smattering of crumbs that covered the dining table. A large glass with a milk ring at the bottom was left with the finished meal. Marron smiled at the evidence of a little Saiyan princess that, most likely, just ate her late lunch or early dinner and was probably busy playing in her room. Good. That meant Marron wouldn't have to try and figure out how to make an enormous meal for a demi Saiyan child that was prone to tantrums when hangry. That would be tomorrow's problem.
As she picked up the plate and glass off the table and placed it in the sink, an exhausted-looking Bulma rushed into the kitchen, wet hair up in a towel and dressed in casual t-shirt and jeans.
"Okay. Took a quick shower, got all our stuff packed. I just need the man and-" she paused and looked around, scoffing in disbelief.
"He's not here?" The heiress asked incredulously.
"I did see the gravity room light still on when I came in," Marron replied while shrugging her shoulders like a guilty tattler.
"Ugh. That man. I swear." The matriarch grumbled. She excused herself and Marron leaned up against the counter as Bulma pulled up the gravity room video from the kitchen coms. "Vegeta! You better get your Saiyan butt out of there, now. We have to go! Marron's here!"
A grumble and curse from the other end, Bulma closed the feed and fixed her gaze on the young blond with a smile, refocusing her attention.
"Anyway, Bulla gets up at around 8, she's not picky with breakfast, lunch or dinner but she will ask for snacks at any given time of the day. We've restricted them to 5 a day, no more, and she knows that. Don't let her play you. She'll also want to watch tv from dawn until dusk but we have parental times on the set so it'll turn off when she's reached her allotment. She'll ask for the password, Kami knows I've changed it so many times with her finding out, but don't give it to her. She's really sneaky so be careful-"
Marron chortled and held up her hands in surrender to the onslaught of instructions. "Bulma, I know. I've babysat Bulla before. She and I will be fine for three days. And I know if I have any problems, to call you. Don't worry."
"Okay. Okay. You're right." She nodded in agreement. She sighed her worrying mother sigh then deferred to a change in subject as they idled. "So how's Trunks?"
"He's good. I had a nice birthday a couple months ago. He made it really special." She preened humbly, twisting the delicate silver bracelet he got for her with absentminded fingers. Another thought popped into her mind. Wouldn't hurt to get the opinion of an outside source. "Did you hear Goten moved in?"
"I did." She asked, her voice raising an octave in gossipy interest. Marron couldn't help but notice the heiress' blue eyebrows raising as well. "How's that working out?"
"It's been good. Goten cooks and cleans, I assume he learned that from Chichi. He's like a model roommate." The blond divulged through a plastered smile, allowing her mind to drift. It all happened so fast.
To be perfectly honest, the 'moving in' part was a little rough with the lack of defined criteria. In the beginning, she had questions. How long was he going to be there? Why doesn't he move in with his own girlfriend? How would this affect their relationship? She felt these were valid concerns. She wanted to be heard but didn't think she was.
In response, she noticed Trunks treading the fine line of making the living space equitable between three people when it had been comfortably been between only two. She ended up having to commiserate with her boyfriend, admitting that Goten was out on his own, it was cheaper for all to live together, and she really hadn't seen him in years from lack of trying. The way Trunks had managed her adaptation to a new living arrangement was almost like sexy mind control. She was unsure of his own awareness of how powerful his coy manipulation tactics were although he always seemed to know just what to say or do, particularly in Goten's defense.
Eventually she relented and to her relief, after a month's adjustment, things mellowed. She didn't know if it was due to actual acceptance or subtle coercion but ultimately, the tea steeped and the three of them dissolved into a homogenous menagerie of childhood friends. As roommates, she truly couldn't have hoped for anyone better.
There were times when she wished it was just her and Trunks like it had been for almost a year prior to Goten. However, with how much he worked, he was either absent, distracted or winding down, always a drink in hand. Thankfully, Goten was always up for entertaining her like a doting and caring sibling. He seemed to feel obligated to.
She got along with Goten. She got along with Trunks. And they seem to get along with each other. Really well. Perfect.
Everything was fine. As long as she didn't think too hard about it.
Bulma peered at her curiously. "I sense a but."
Marron dropped her gaze to the floor, finding the tiles far less interrogating than Trunks' mother. She experienced the sudden urge to get things off her chest.
"No. I mean, other than the fact I thought living with my boyfriend was living with just my boyfriend. Now it's been 3 months." She tried not to sound so passive aggressive. "I get it. He needs help to get on his feet. It's not like he's gonna live with us forever." She rationalized half-heartedly.
"And he has that pretty girlfriend. Valese, right?" Bulma proffered.
Marron held her face still.
"Actually, they broke up couple weeks ago."
She maintained the blank facade when disclosing that little detail. The restrictive facial expression reminded herself of her own mother sometimes. She was grateful for the stoic, unemotive family trait that presented itself at the most fitting times. Like now, when she didn't want to share completely how fucking convenient it was for Trunks to finally find loads of extra time off work while Goten was newly single. She had no evidence. It was all conjecture.
She could feel Bulma searching her. Trying to pry the crux of the effect of Goten's break up. She finally hummed and tapped her manicured fingernails on the counter apparently finding nothing of interest.
The breakup had affected the group greatly. Goten, absolutely crushed, had resolved to move back to Mt Pauzu, surmising the only reason to be in the city was for his doe-eyed paramour. It took all of 10 minutes for Trunks to convince Goten to stay. Marron had nothing to add. She was never asked for her opinion anyway even when voiced.
In a way, while in the honeymoon stage of his relationship with Valese, Goten was harmless. A dear friend. An older brother to pal around with. She trusted him.
"So where is Trunks now?" Bulma asked casually over her shoulder, collecting her luggage and arranging them by size against the counter.
Again, Marron put up her front. "He's with Goten. On a camping trip. For the weekend."
Bulma hummed again, probably sensing the uncomfortable pause in between the younger woman's fragmented sentences like a poison gas that floated in the airspace and as long as you didn't breathe in, didn't acknowledge its presence, it couldn't hurt you. She only cared enough to not divulge too much. All speculation. She was overthinking things again. She trusted Trunks with her life. She loved him.
Vegeta finally made his appearance, grumpy and irritated, so the remainder of intrusive questioning veiled as banal banter abruptly ended.
Her boyfriend's parents left, the house quiet as her charge played in her room. Marron stood alone in the kitchen reflecting on the conversation. It bothered her that anyone, let alone a trusted friend, could play any sort of role in tension across her relationship. Or why a man, who dates women, could be a threat. It was frustrating that she was made to feel dirty over stray, toxic thoughts.
It was of no use to bring attention to silly accusations that had no basis. She brought a nail to her teeth and chewed in ponderance, wondering how to let Bulla down gently that she wouldn't be able to do manicures this time around. Over the past 2 weeks, every one of her nails had been bitten and bleeding to the nub and she didn't want to bring attention to them.