Bulma lay on her stomach, staring up into the sky from her spot on the table, while watching the two Saiyans attempt to attack an unperturbed angel. Whis instructed his students to stay in their base forms, fearing that two Saiyan gods might end up damaging Capsule Corp. and, more importantly, the spread of food that the heiress had prepared for them. Despite the lack of legendary ascensions or godly auras, it was still breathtaking to witness the parts of the spar that she was capable of seeing. Her years of being around the strongest beings in the universe had pushed Bulma to attempt to train her eyes to keep up with their battles… somewhat.

Gohan and Piccolo were the first two participants from Universe 7's team to arrive to the party outside of Goku and Vegeta. The half-Saiyan had been surprised at Bulma's new stature while the Namekian appeared as reserved as ever. Gohan questioned her further about the incident with the Micro Band, the scholar sharing her fascination with the sciences and curious to know more about her invention. Bulma eventually managed to shift the topic over to Pan and the two fawned over various pictures of the toddler- Piccolo finally chiming in every once in a while.

Eventually the master and pupil were immersed in a conversation regarding training and their experiences at the Tournament of Power. Bulma, unable to contribute much to that topic, once again turned her attention skywards to watch the spar occurring in the air.

Vegeta had changed from his ridiculous pink shirt into the gray armor she had made for him. He soared towards the angel with a look of pure determination on his face, engaging in a combative dance that had been perfected over decades of practice. It was so captivating, watching him do what he was both best at and most passionate about. Bulma wondered if he felt the same way about her, especially during those times where she caught the prince gazing at her as she was engaged in her own work.

The scientist was abruptly pulled from her reverie as something tugged at the back of her skirt. Her head whipped around to look behind her, coming face to face with her reflection in a giant pair of sunglasses. The shades rested on the nose of none other than a red faced Master Roshi, who had the hem of her skirt pinched between two fingers. His lecherous grin faltered as he noticed her furious expression.

"YOU STUPID OLD PERVERT! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Bulma reached for a discarded skewer lying next to her and thrust it through one of the lenses on the old man's sunglasses. The martial arts master toppled backwards onto the ground, frantically trying to backpedal on his actions.

"Calm down Bulma! I thought you were a doll! I thought you were fake! I just wanted to see how detailed it was!" he rasped as the blue-haired woman glared down at him coldly from her perch at the edge of the table. Gohan and Piccolo were pulled from their conversation, watching the sudden change in activity with utter bemusement.

"Why would we have such a thing here, you gross old man?! Who thinks like that?! What is wrong with you?!" Bulma interrogated Roshi as he sat on the ground, inspecting his sunglasses and contemplating how close he came to becoming blind in one eye. Removing the imitation harpoon, he donned his now fractured shades as two more fighters approached the table from behind him.

"Behave yourself, pervert, or you can find your own ride home." 18 scolded the hermit coldly as her husband smiled sheepishly to the hostess.

"Hey Bulma, uh, sorry about that. Guess we still need to keep an eye on the old man," Roshi huffed and stood up, moving around the table to converse with Gohan and Piccolo. Krillin continued, holding out a small tray, "We did bring cupcakes though! We know how much of a sweet tooth you have, and, um… what happened to you, exactly?" Krillin finally addressed the elephant in the room after trying to stumble through some courtesies.

Bulma cheerfully greeted her new guests, ignoring Krillin's question, "Hey you guys! You didn't have to bake cupcakes! That's so sweet, thank you!" First she gets a giant strawberry, now some oversized cupcakes? The heiress briefly wondered if the weight she gained at this size would grow back with her.

Krillin beamed down at his friend despite his question going unanswered. He had known the scientist long enough to simply take these situations in stride. "Hey, no problem! It's the least we could do!"

"We purchased them already baked from the store." 18 dryly admitted as Krillin laughed awkwardly at blonde's brutal honesty.

The group eventually gathered at the table and Bulma assumed that this would be everyone present at their small party. 17 was practically impossible to contact outside of his rare visits to his sister and her family- and despite visiting the land he protected, Bulma was unable to track him down. Tien had never been very social in the first place, but was now completely dedicated to running his martial arts school. His presence was, understandably, not expected.

And despite Goku's absurd suggestion, Bulma chose not to invite Frieza.

It was a small get together, but it was a good opportunity for the fighters to celebrate their victory, exchange stories, and share techniques learned over the last year. Bulma's group of friends rapidly lost interest in her size- the strange events they had witnessed over the course of their lives causing them to be unfazed by such things. For a while, it felt as if things were back to normal.

"So you're telling me that the vehicle that transports the food is edible as well?" Whis examined the corn flatbread on his plate that was covered in multiple layers of food.

"Yes. It's called a tortilla. You put stuff in it and it makes a taco." The scientist summarized as the angel reached for chopsticks, "You don't need to use utensils! Just fold it up by the ends with your hands!" Whis pondered this advice before finally lifting each end of the tortilla in a different hand. Wielding the food more like a sandwich and taking a bite, the angel squealed in delight as he tasted the brand new Earth dish.

Bulma sighed and began looking around the table. Well at least someone is trying, she thought as she observed Beerus and the Saiyans ignoring such practices and simply devouring everything in sight. The tiny woman watched as Bulla, who was seated in a highchair between her father and Beerus, reached over and grabbed a particularly appetizing piece of chicken from the god's plate. The purple cat growled threateningly at the toddler as she happily munched on the piece of food, laughing at her Uncle Beerus's silly reaction.

To Bulma's amazement, the God of Destruction backed off, returning his attention to his plate and Bulla to hers. The scientist smirked, wondering if anyone else had ever stolen food from Beerus the Destroyer and faced zero consequences. She sincerely doubted it.

The rest of the table acted with more decency than the deities and Saiyans. As a result, Bulma opted to sit closer to them, still hesitant that she might be made into someone's meal. Krillin and Roshi ate plenty, while 18 picked at the food on her own plate.

Panchy- who struggled to accept the fact that Namekians survived totally on water despite housing an entire planet of them- had provided Piccolo with an absurdly fancy glass for ice water decorated with a lemon slice. No matter how many times Bulma insisted that he didn't care, her mother was concerned that the once "King of Demons" would feel left out. Like Vegeta, Piccolo acted annoyed over her foolish behavior, but deep down it seemed that the two secretly enjoyed the fact that someone was so mindful over something as "inane" as their feelings.

Eventually, the devouring of food calmed down into a grazing over the remains of the feast. Whis, after complimenting the hostess on the new assortment of Earthling cuisine she provided, initiated a conversation of his own.

"So, Vegeta. I noticed that you were holding back quite a bit today. That is so unlike you. Is everything alright?"

Both Vegeta and Goku looked up from their plates at the angel, eyes wide and mouths stuffed full of food. Bulma had to stop herself from bursting out into laughter at how similar the rivals looked and acted when it came to eating- though if she admitted that to her husband he would probably begin starving himself.

The Saiyan prince swallowed and responded to Whis, "Ah, well I've been wearing these training bands all day," he held up his hand and lifted the hem of his glove, gesturing to an inconspicuous band wrapped around his wrist, "they hold back a significant amount of my power while I wear them, so they're excellent for training." Vegeta smirked as Goku swallowed his own food and gawked at the other Saiyan.

"Whoa… I wanna try!" the younger man reached towards the tech as Vegeta pulled his arm away, cackling at his opponent.

"I don't think so, Kakarot. If you want training equipment so badly then you should have married an inventor instead of a harpy!" Goku pouted, everyone suspecting he was more upset about the gear than the insult to his wife. The younger Saiyan turned towards the center of the table, no doubt ready to pester Bulma about it, but the scientist was gone from her seat.

Instead she now stood in front of her husband, arms crossed and eye twitching. Vegeta raised a brow at her change in attitude as she addressed him.

"I had one rule when I gave you those to wear. I asked you to do one thing. What was it?" The prince gulped, his wife's rage flowing off her body like energy. Shit I don't remember any damn rule. He wanted to put the blame on her; after all she was the one foolish enough to lecture the Saiyan after giving him a shiny new training toy. Of course he would tune her out! However, Vegeta assumed that his reasoning wouldn't amuse the scientist.

Fortunately, Kakarot was dumb enough to stoke the flames of Bulma's wrath, folding his hands together and offering his most irresistible puppy dog eyes, "Bulma, if you make me cool training gear like that I promise to follow the rule unlike Vegeta. I swear- eek!" Goku let out an undignified shriek and leaned back in his chair as his oldest friend shifted her rage to him.

"Shut it, Goku! I know for a fact that you wouldn't follow directions either! Honestly, you Saiyans never listen to me and it always screws us over in the end!" Bulma took a deep breath, the entire table leaning in to pick up on her faint voice as she prepared to explain. "Vegeta was sort of correct when explaining the wristbands. They do influence your life force, but not by holding it back. Rather, they apply a constant opposing power to both your body and your energy without requiring or causing any external effects."

Bulma was met with blank stares except for Gohan, whose eyes lit up, "So what you're saying is that the bands sort of act like weighted clothing, but for your ki?" she nodded and the group reacted more positively to the scholar's simpler explanation. I guess he does explain things to people for a living, Bulma thought as Whis interjected.

"So why is it that you're upset, Bulma? It sounds like Vegeta can make more out of even the most minimal of training using your invention. It doesn't seem to be harming anything!"

Turning back towards her husband, the miniature woman began her rant, "Because, like I told Vegeta, it's just a prototype and it's dangerous to use for an extended period of time!" She marched over to his hand that was now resting on the table, drumming his fingers impatiently as he leaned back in his seat. The Saiyan observed, unimpressed, as she pushed his glove out of the way and attempted to pull the wristband undone, propping a foot onto his arm for leverage. Everyone watched her pitiful attempts as she continued, "The ki band adds more and more strain the longer you wear it- something I'm still trying to fix. I told Vegeta he wasn't allowed to wear it for more than 60 minutes each day, yet here we are on day-freaking-one and he's already been wearing them for hours!" Giving up on trying to pull the wristband apart, Bulma glared up at her husband, "One hour isn't a big deal- you wouldn't even notice the additional pressure- but you wear these for too long and you might end up not being able to move! And now it's going to suck for you when you take them off. Your ki could be completely out of control… you might even get that ki disorder Goku had!"

Goku looked far deeper in thought than he typically did outside of a battle, "So what you're saying is that the longer Vegeta wears the bands, the more intense his training gets?!" Bulma face-palmed as Vegeta grinned smugly at his rival.

"No Goku, the longer Vegeta wears them, the closer to death he gets! Ugh! Why did I ever think it was a good idea to give you these before I was done?! No wonder you've been so hungry and tired and weird all day. You're exhausting yourself!" Bulma was practically whining at this point, and Vegeta had to resist rolling his eyes at what was likely a complete overreaction.

"I'm fine, woman. Do you really think a silly pair of bracelets will be enough to kill me?" Vegeta almost wished he could take his words back. Not only was he claiming that her science was wrong but he also sounded awfully condescending towards her invention. Bulma looked ready to snap before Krillin chimed in.

"Wait, how the heck did you not notice them earlier if he was wearing them all day?"

"Because, Krillin, there's a whole lot more to look at and think about when you're this size, so it's a bit difficult to notice everything!"

An exaggerated yawn cut through the conversation and the party turned their attention towards Beerus, who was now being mimicked by Bulla with a smaller yawn of her own. The cat stood up, stretching dramatically, "Well Saiyan, it was nice knowing you, I suppose. I'd say I wasn't expecting your wife to be the one to kill you, but that would be a lie." The sun setting on Capsule Corporation framed his form as the god walked to the edge of the balcony. "Just make sure you have something tasty at the funeral party. Whis- I'm ready when you are."

The attendant stood up, smiling politely at the moody hostess and thanking her for another excellent meal. After Whis collected leftovers and dessert for a small doggy bag, the group said their goodbyes to the duo as they disappeared into a golden and azure sky.

Over the course of a few hours, spars, and arguments between the hosts, the party began to disperse. First among the crowd to leave was Krillin, 18, and consequently Roshi. The couple stated that they had to get back to Marron who, to Bulma's concern, was spending her evening with Oolong and Turtle. One of those babysitters seemed more like a liability than a responsible guardian, and believe it or not it wasn't the reptile.

Gohan soon followed them out, stating he had an early start the next day. Piccolo trailed the half-Saiyan, claiming he also had an early start as he "was obligated to act as Pan's temporary guardian for the day while Gohan and Videl took care of other commitments." So babysitting, Bulma thought.

By the time their final guest was ready to take off, the sky was dotted with stars and Bulla had fallen asleep in her father's lap, clutching her new stuffed kitty. In one last effort to convince Bulma, Goku fell to his knees, prostrating himself before his friend and begged:

"Please Bulma. Please make me an invention like Vegeta has! Chi-Chi makes me farm all the time and radishes can only offer so much for training. Please Bulma. Super Saiyan please! Super Saiyan God please? Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan please with a Kaio-ken on top-"

"ALRIGHT GOKU." Bulma screamed louder than should be possible for her tiny stature. Goku leaped to his feet and scooped his tiny friend up, squeezing her against his cheek in some type of makeshift hug while thanking her repeatedly. He plopped her back onto the table and took off into the sky, shouting goodbye to his slack-jawed friends as he disappeared into the night.

Vegeta felt his eye twitch, having held himself back due to the toddler in his arms, "I'll murder him next time I see him."

Standing up and brushing herself off, Bulma sighed, crossing her arms and looking away from her husband, "Don't worry about it, you'll probably be dead before then anyway."

Staring at her back turned to him, Vegeta waited for her to start arguing, but the shouts and curses never arrived. No, instead it seemed he would be treated to silence now, which was far worse than any fight they could have. The couple thrived on the thrill of challenging each other in an argument; it was fun that often led to more fun, and was a very Saiyan way of communicating.

But when Bulma was truly upset with him, Vegeta was given a cold shoulder. He could count on a single hand the amount of times she acted this way, and every time had elicited an emotion from the prince that he never imagined feeling in his entire life: shame.

The Saiyan rose from his seat, Bulla snuggling closer into his chest as her father moved her around. He held his hand down for Bulma to climb onto, his offer going ignored for a moment until she reluctantly crawled into his palm, and carried his two girls into their home.

"At least take them off before you go to bed. Despite how much you probably want to, you're not going to get any training done in your sleep."

Vegeta perked up at the first sentence his wife had spoken to him since they were on the balcony. She was currently sitting on their bed in an oversized shirt the couple stole off another doll after Panchy came to collect her grandchild for their sleepover. Nodding at her, the Saiyan continued preparing for bed, stripping down to his underwear and walking over to his wife as he began to fiddle with the technology around his wrists.

"Ok, so there's a little button on the inside of your wrist on your left hand. If you just generate a little bit of energy in your finger while pressing it, it should unlatch both band-" the scientist was cut off as Vegeta suddenly ascended to Super Saiyan the moment the bands unlatched from his wrists. An abrupt burst of energy launched her back into, fortunately, another pillow.

The surge in power was brief, and the prince's hair returned to black as he collapsed to his knees and fell to rest his head face-first on the bed. After taking a moment to get her bearings, Bulma noticed their room in disarray, the air charged with energy, and her husband lying unmoving with his face buried in the comforter.

"Vegeta!"

Eventually stirring from the intense rush of power, Vegeta raised his head to acknowledge the woman attempting to run across the bedspread towards him. "Scoot over woman, I'm fine." He plucked the tiny human up by the back of her shirt, placing her on the pillow next to the one he intended to rest his head on. Lying on his back with his eyes closed, the Saiyan sighed, "That felt terrible."

"Yea, no shit." Bulma rolled her eyes and crawled closer to her husband, who was looking utterly spent, "Just another time that that stubborn head of yours should have listened to me. What on earth were you thinking?"

"I figured it would help me be more careful with you. I didn't want to hurt you. You're more fragile than usual."

Bulma's scowl softened at his admission, "You just now picked me up like it was nothing. I'm a lot tougher than you think. I carried two half-Saiyan babies around for nine months each and gave birth to one. I'm not made of glass." Despite the fact that he looked asleep, Bulma continued her speech, "Well at least you'll get a mini power boost from trying to exhaust yourself to death. I doubt you'll get another use out of those particular bands, though. They're probably fried. Which is good. I have some assistants working on more prototypes and they should be done in a few days, but I'll just tell them to destroy their progress if someone can't behave himself."

"Please. Don't do that."

If Bulma was standing, she would have fallen over. It almost sounded as if Vegeta was begging her not to do something, and that definitely wasn't his style. Those wristbands must have screwed him up more than she thought, "Excuse me?"

"They're incredibly useful. Even Beerus and Whis were impressed. Think of how much stronger I could be…"

"How much stronger do you need to be!? You literally have the strength of a god, it's not like you're in desperate need of help!"

"But I still want to be stronger than Kakarot."

"Ugh, this again." Bulma thought her husband's rivalry had gotten past the point of him endangering his own life, but perhaps she had been wrong, "I thought you were over that... You know, outside of a bit of friendly competition. Don't tell me I need to start worrying about you doing something crazy again!"

"No!" He groaned and turned to her. The heiress saw what looked to be not only exhaustion, but also disappointment in his eyes, "It's not like that anymore… I just…" he turned away from her, "everyone is always relying on that fool to protect them. I just… I wish…" he sighed and closed his eyes again, "I just want you, Trunks, and Bulla to feel like I can protect my own family… I want to be the one to keep you safe. Not someone else. Especially not Kakarot."

The room was silent moments after, Bulma speechless and Vegeta seeming to finally have passed out. It was rare for the Saiyan to open up in such a way, and his wife was unsure of what caused it or how to respond to it.

Was she supposed to claim they didn't typically rely on Goku? Her oldest friend had almost always been the one to come through over the years so it was only natural for her to depend on him. Though looking back, how could she not see that this might be something her spouse could feel insecure about?

At the same time, she was feeling sentimental that even something as important as his rivalry with Goku was now motivated by family, not pride. Any previous frustration was gone and she now wanted to tell her husband how proud she was of him. Bulma wanted him to understand how much her, Trunks, and Bulla depended on him and needed him- maybe not always for something as shallow as throwing the strongest punch, but for a million other reasons no other person could fulfill. She wasn't letting this go.

"Vegeta?"

The only response she received was the sound of deep breathing that indicated that the Saiyan had fallen asleep.

Trunks shot up in his seat, convinced he had just felt someone's power level rising. Then nothing.

The half-Saiyan rubbed his eyes, assuming he had just dreamt about the sudden rush of ki while finally falling asleep. He looked over to the chair next to him where Goten was happily snoring away and spooning a couple of pizza boxes.

Well at least one of us is enjoying the situation. Trunks sighed, restless after spending the last 12 hours sitting on the couch. True, both him and Goten had become somewhat of couch potatoes as teenagers (as much as two full-blooded Saiyan fathers would allow), but this wasn't out of his own free will. No… he recalled the threat his father had made earlier that day.

If either of you get out of these seats before I give you permission to, I will make sure that you can never leave them again! Is that clear?!

Neither one of his parents would answer their phones, and now his was dead. He thought about just getting up, but, to the surprise of any outsiders, it's not like his father always issued commands like that. Plus Vegeta had given him and Goten the glare of death when ordering them around and both teens knew not to disobey that look. In the end, it truly seemed like his father wasn't screwing around and nobody was going to defy him no matter how stupid it seemed.

Trunks laid back and stared up at the ceiling. Well… guess I'll just die here.