A/N: This was an incredibly difficult chapter to write so I apologize for the wait. I've just gotten to the point in my college career where stress has begun to manifest itself physically and at this point, I am sure I have lost a few years off of my life. I am going to finish this though. Never fear.

DISCLAIMER: I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody!

Groggy with sleep, Bulma pulled herself off of the wood and wiped away drool that had accumulated near her chin. The sun overhead shone so brightly that it hurt her eyes. She stumbled trying to stand, drunk with drowsiness.

It was a little chilly because it was morning, but it promised to be a beautiful day. Bulma could see no trace of the clouds that had littered the sky the previous night and birds had gathered on the branches of nearby trees to sing to their hearts' content. She rubbed her arms to make herself warmer.

"Dear?"

Her mother's voice jolted Bulma out of her reverie. She smiled so big that her teeth showed, but she knew she would crumple onto the ground if she wasn't left alone.

"Dear, did you sleep out here all night?"

Her mother's voice was laced with an unusual mixture of concern and worry. The older woman closed the backdoor behind her and stepped out onto the porch. She grabbed Bulma's cheeks with her manicured fingers. Their blue eyes locked in a stare that Bulma tried hard to break.

"I'm okay mom," the young scientist claimed, stepping backward and raising her arms behind her head as she gave an exaggerated yawn. "I came out here last night to think about some Capsule Corp thing and drifted off."

Bunny seemed convinced and Bulma gave a mental sigh of relief. Her mother got really bored hearing about "business" stuff.

Her mother shrugged and grabbed her hand. "Come on! I'd like to show you the baby's new room!"

"You're finished already?" Bulma asked her, allowing herself to be pulled inside. "You only started a few days ago!"

"Oh, I've done so much! Some very cute workmen have been helping me move things inside," her mother said with a wink, dragging her up a flight of steps, "and they're verystrong."

Ignoring her giggling mom, Bulma followed her upstairs and found herself right in front of the nursery she had been kicked out of not so long ago. It was absolutely not the same way she had left it.

All four walls had been painted a stunning shade of blue that darkened towards the back right wall where a jumble of baby furniture had been stashed. A large planet Earth, awash in green and blue, was brilliantly painted near the entrance of the room. A tiny yellow sun bathed the familiar planet in light and lit up white clouds surrounding it.

Perhaps the most stunning painting lay on the opposing wall, where the blue darkened until it turned purple, and tiny white stars popped into view. There, a fiery orange and red planet was in plain sight. It made Bulma's blood run cold.

"Well then! What do you think?"

Bulma wanted to tell her mother that the room was gorgeous and that whoever had created the masterpiece that was now her son's nursery should be commissioned by the Louvre full-time. She wanted to say that while it broke her heart to see Planet Vegeta so vividly painted, it also filled her with some sort of inexplicable emotion.

"Oh, mom!"

She turned and threw her arms around her surprised mother, who welcomed her embrace.

Her silver lining.

"Come on! You're kidding, right?"

There was a loud 'thump' as a red sneaker hit the wall and bounced off of the floor.

Standing in the middle of his living room, Yamcha looked down at his bare left foot. At least two of his toes had turned a nasty blue. The tiny nails were chipped and blackened. There was no denying it.

"That toe looks awful!" Puar said as she floated down to examine the crippled man's feet. "Wow! That was some accident you had there!"

"Coach says I have to sit out the next game if I can't walk on it at practice tomorrow," Yamcha said in a surly voice, wanting to throw his other shoe off as well. "Doctor gonna say it's broken so what's the point in even trying?"

Puar landed lightly on his shoulder and he walked over to the worn couch and plopped down.

"That was some play though, wasn't it?" she asked, shape-shifting into a large, fuzzy blue baseball. "The Taitans are in the field! Yamcha, the star pitcher takes his place at the mound! He's…"

"-beamed with a baseball and limps off the field," Yamcha groaned, tossing his head backward and nearly knocking it on the wall behind him.

"No one suspects anything do they?"

Yamcha put his injured foot up on the coffee table. It looked awful. "Not yet," he answered. "I've never had to try that hard to get hit with a baseball before. Sheesh."

Everyone who'd been on the field earlier that morning, players and fans alike, believed that Yamcha had broken a couple of toes after getting creamed by the opposing team's pitcher. In actuality, he had been lifting boulders the night before, preparing for the arrival of the Androids. He'd gotten distracted and accidentally dropped it on his foot. He was lucky he only suffered a few broken toes; he'd barely gotten his head out of the way.

"You should visit Korin and see if his harvest is ready!" suggested Puar, changing back into her original form. "We haven't asked for any Senzu beans in so long! He's probably got plenty to spare!"

Yamcha shook his head. "No way Puar," he said. "Those are gonna need to last us when the Androids get here. I don't want anyone blaming me when they run out."

He sighed. The pain was enough that he considered taking a couple aspirin, but he had no desire to leave the comfort of the couch and he was sick of Puar doting over him. She was his best friend, no doubt, but man.

"Aren't you tired of hanging around here all day?" he asked her, "I've got some extra cash. Why don't you go shopping or something?"

She looked suspicious of his offer and rightly so, Yamcha guessed. "If you want me to leave you alone to sulk, all you have to do is say so."

Yamcha knew women, no matter the species, did not want him to say so and decided to keep his mouth shut. Besides, Puar was probably right. He felt awful about injuring himself and really just wanted to mope in peace.

"Nah," he said as a way to apologize for his moodiness. "Relax, Puar. I'm gonna make an appointment with the doc to make this look a little more legitimate."

Yamcha had only pressed two numbers on his cell phone when there was a sharp knock at his door. He exchanged a pleading look with Puar to answer it and settled deeper into the sofa. It was already the late afternoon and he was fairly sure that he wouldn't be able to see a physician until the next day at least.

Muffled voices in the hall diverted his attention for a moment. Puar was arguing with a woman who, from her tone of voice, seemed like another loony fan he'd have to kick out.

Limping painfully across the floor, Yamcha made it around the corner and stopped in his tracks. It wasn't a loony fan exactly.

It was Bulma Brief.

"There you are!" she stated, sounding exasperated, her bright blue eyes piercing his. "I saw what happened on TV today! How are you?"

"I told her you need rest," Puar said, sounding apologetic for the interruption, but Yamcha waved it away.

"No problem, come inside," he said to Bulma, happy that he had thought to clean the apartment the other day. She had always complained about his messiness.

Bulma and Puar followed him into the living room and plopped down on the couch, taking seats on either side of him.

"So," pressed the woman, "how are you?"

Yamcha drew back his left leg and wiggled his uninjured toes. The others wouldn't budge. "I had a run in with a boulder the other night."

Bulma, who was sitting on his left side, grabbed his foot in her hands and bent down so close that her nose was nearly on his pinky toenail. Yamcha exchanged a puzzled look with Puar, who didn't look too pleased.

"You're going to need to see a doctor," Bulma stated firmly, sitting up and releasing her hold on his foot. "It's pretty bad… doesn't smell that great either."

Ignoring her jab at him, Yamcha shook his head. "No way, B. I don't need a doctor telling me something I already know. Waste of money."

"You need a doctor so that you can get a splint for your toes," she explained, brushing her hair behind her ears. "If you keep walking on them like that then they'll take a lot longer to heal. Don't you want to start training again?"

Before he could answer, Bulma had taken out her cellphone and started dialing. On his right, Puar was glaring.

"I told you to call the doctor a long time ago," she whispered once Bulma had begun speaking to someone on the other end.

"I tried!" he whispered back.

"So why are you acting like you never intended to go?"

"I'm not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

Bulma leaned over and covered her mouthpiece. "Can you guys keep it down for a second? I think I can get an appointment today!"

Yamcha shrugged at Puar, who rolled her eyes and flew out of the room in a huff. He'd have to talk to her about that later. How could she blame him for wanting to spend time with Bulma? The last time he'd spoken to her was two weeks ago, and that had only been a short phone call from her describing her finished nursery.

"Well! Let's get out of here, shall we?" asked Bulma in a cheerful voice as she clicked off her phone. "The doctor can see you right away! Oh, and you're welcome."

The doctor's office was always the same; it smelled of antibacterial soap and sanitizers. There was a shiny marble countertop which held an obscene amount of printed paper towels and nondescript objects in plastic bags. Colorful posters with children wearing bandages and crutches were stuck on every wall. A wooden wall shelf was filled to the brim with past additions of ParentingMagazine and HighlightsforKids.

Bulma sat on the edge of a plush chair with a turquoise cushion, entertaining herself with a story about Goofus and Gallant. As a child the only thing she had ever learned about the two boys was that they had very unfortunate names. She was going to name her baby something far less conspicuous.

The sound of loud, rustling paper interrupted her musing and she turned toward the noise, irritated.

"Come on, Yamcha! Can't you sit still?"

The injured baseball player was lying on the office hospital bed; his sneakers had ripped up most of the bed covering.

"I am!" he countered. "Why in the world would they cover these beds with toilet paper anyway?"

"It's not toilet paper," said Bulma, putting down her magazine so that she could stand near Yamcha's bedside. She lifted both of his feet and straightened out the paper beneath him.

Yamcha sat up, ripping the paper again. "Can we go now? We've been waiting forever and I have to be honest… I'm not a patient person."

Bulma glared at him. "I'm doing you a favor, so shut up. Doctor Cabbat is my mother's favorite doctor. She's been seeing him for the last few years."

"I see why," muttered Yamcha as the door to the tiny room opened up and revealed the doctor in full.

Bulma turned to greet Dr. Cabbat, who smiled and shook her hand enthusiastically. If there was any man on the planet who was Yamcha's complete opposite in terms of looks, it was this guy. He had shiny blue eyes and straw-colored hair. Freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose, making him look younger than his thirty-five years. He was pretty good-looking, in Bulma's opinion, but not her type at all.

"Ms. Brief, how are you?" he asked in a sunny voice, pulling out a clipboard from behind his back. "You're back a little early for another appointment aren't you?"

Bulma patted her stomach affectionately and shook her head. "Oh, we're not here for me. We're here for this guy."

She pointed at Yamcha who was giving her an unfriendly stare.

"Nice to meet you," Dr. Cabbat said, walking over to the ex-bandit and giving him a quick once over. "What seems to be the problem?"

While Yamcha described his toe troubles, Bulma wandered around the room, looking at the posters on the wall. The one that caught her eye showed a little boy with dark hair and blue eyes on crutches being escorted by a nurse and a woman with lavender hair.

The child looked a lot like what she thought her unborn son might look like. Bulma felt a familiar pang in her chest and immediately turned away from the picture. She would not cry in front of the doctor and especially not in front of Yamcha.

As Bulma took a place in a chair once more, she hurriedly wiped her wet eyes and stuck a smile on her face. She could have kicked herself for feeling sad again; she had tried so hard to be happy. Was it pointless though? How could she ever feel happiness again?

"…so we'll get x-rays done for you alright? Then we'll get you fitted for…."

The conversation drifted in and out of Bulma's ears. It was hard to focus once she had let her emotions get the better of her. She settled her eyes on the poster once again.

Yes. He definitely had her eyes, and Vegeta's hair.

She sighed. How much longer would her melancholy last? It had been awhile since she had felt so alone and depressed. Hanging out with Goku while he was training simply wasn't an option and frankly, she'd have to stop badgering Yamcha as well. It was really lucky he had gotten hit with a boulder, or she'd feel guilty for monopolizing his time so selfishly.

She wondered what activity they could do next.

There was more rustling of paper and a thud. Bulma turned to see that Yamcha had jumped to the floor on his good foot. He began to follow the doctor out of the room, limping.

"Getting an x-ray done," he explained.

"Shouldn't take too long Ms. Brief, if you'd like to wait here?" asked the doctor, and Bulma waved him on with a smile.

"Sure thing," Bulma answered as the door slammed shut behind the two men.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

She was going to have to plan more thrilling activities in the future.

The darkened laboratory was suddenly lit up with color. Neon greens, blues and reds bounded across the room, creating brilliant crisscross patterns. The lime, azure and ruby lines streaked through the air and bounced from one mirrored surface to another, crafting a magnificent light show.

Dr. Brief clapped his gloved hands together, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. He had been commissioned by the national space center to work with lasers for one of their missions and he had been playing around with them instead, creating dozens of displays.

A loud beep startled the old scientist and he looked toward the tiny intercom embedded in the wall to his left. It was flashing red. He walked toward the laser machine and switched it into the off position and then he pressed the button on the intercom. Bunny had been paging him all afternoon about repainting the employee bathrooms.

"Yes? Can we keep this short, dear? I'm a little busy!"

"Dad? It's me. Can I come down?"

Bulma? Dr. Brief hadn't seen his only daughter in two days and had made the assumption that she was away. She certainly deserved a vacation.

"It's you? Why of course you can come down! Hurry!"

Dr. Brief let go of the intercom button and pressed another, buzzing his daughter down to the lab. Moments later he heard the large silver door to his private lab open up and she appeared at the top of the winding metal stairs.

"What in the world, dad?" she asked. "Why is it so dark?"

"Oh! I forgot!"

Dr. Brief removed his safety glasses and flipped a light switch. Bulma was wearing a pair of sweatpants, tennis shoes, and a sweater so large it hung off her thin shoulders. He raised his bushy white eyebrows.

"You're awfully dressed up."

"Oh, this?" Bulma grabbed her sweater and looked down at it as though she were seeing her outfit for the first time. "I just threw it on while I'm doing laundry. Plus, I'm going to go watch Yamcha train for a little while so I didn't really want to dress up, you know?"

He knew, but he didn't like it. "I thought that Yamcha had a broken foot?"

Bulma walked down the steps and kissed him on the cheek. She began examining herself in a few mirrors.

"He broke a few toes, that's all," she said, making faces at herself. "He still needs to train though. We're heading over to some field later and I told him I'd bring some snacks."

"I see," said Dr. Brief, reaching into his coat pocket and tossing a capsule into the air. It opened up and revealed a pair of black goggles that he immediately handed to Bulma. "Can you spare a few minutes with your old father? I'd love for you to see a laser show!"

She looked confused but she did as she was told, slipping the glasses over her head and securing them to her face.

He turned the lights off again and started up the machine. At once the vibrant colors began to dance around the room. He heard his daughter gasp.

"This is awesome!"

"Isn't it?" he replied. "I'm developing lasers for remote sensing. I'll be meeting with a few officials tomorrow from the West City Aeronautics Center. I thought I'd play around with the machine first and have some fun before they've got me at their whim!"

Bulma patted his shoulder. "You've got your work cut out for you. Those people down at the space center are intense."

"I'm not worried," he said. "I'm a shareholder!"

They watched in silence for another minute, colors flashing before their eyes. When the lights disappeared into the darkness, Dr. Brief was smiling. With Bulma next to him it was starting to feel like old times again.

"You know," he began, reaching over to cut on the room lights once more, "I don't think the Center would mind if you were helping me with the project. The more the merrier!"

His daughter faced him with a crooked smile. "I don't know. I've been really busy lately. Plus tomorrow I'm going to lunch with Yamcha and looking over some plans for a gravity room."

"Why can't he use the one here?" inquired Dr. Brief, raising his thick eyebrows. "It's still in great condition."

"I don't think he should. He nearly killed himself the last time he used it," Bulma answered, her voice taking on a strange tone. "The one I'd make for him would be low key. The gravity would increase much more slowly for one."

Dr. Brief shrugged and placed his glasses on the top of his head. "I have to agree. Are you sure you don't want to go to the meeting with me tomorrow? It's at three."

She shook her head. "Nope. I would if I could though."

There was a pause, and then Dr. Brief decided to say exactly what was on his mind.

"Dear? Aren't you afraid you're spending a bit too much time with that young man?" Before Bulma could reply, he went on. "It's just that your mother and I haven't seen you around lately and whenever you are here, you're with Yamcha. Not that he isn't a fine, young man…"

"Dad."

"I'm just worried that with Vegeta being gone and all, you're feeling vulnerable. I wouldn't want you to be taken advantage of."

"Dad."

"Of course I'm not saying that Yamcha's intentions aren't respectable. I happen to like the boy quite a lot to be honest with you and your breakup certainly surprised me and-"

"Dad!"

Dr. Brief stopped speaking and cleared his throat. Bulma's eyes were narrowed, much like her mother's. He prepared himself for the worst.

"Dad," she repeated in an unexpectedly calm voice, "as much as I appreciate your concern, I'm not a little girl anymore. I can make my own decisions."

He sighed. Tell him something new.

"Yamcha's a good guy, okay?" she told him, giving him a smile that always won him over. "Besides, I'm the one who's been initiating everything. I call him twice as much as he calls me. He's been a really good friend."

What more could be said on the subject? Bulma was headstrong and if she wanted to do something he would not be able to talk her out of it; nor did he intend to. Her independence was one of her best attributes. So he did what he had always done.

He let her fall so that she could fly.

Bulma lazily ran her fingers through the cool pond water, watching silver-blue fish swim beneath the green lilies. The small bushes and trees lining the pond had turned the water green. Dozens of moss covered rocks had been purposefully placed against the edge; they served as resting spots for belching frogs and perches for curious birds. One particularly large rock with a smooth, flat surface was now a pillow for the blue-haired woman lying on top of it.

"You're not paying attention!"

Bulma snapped her head upward and saw Yamcha floating above her, panting and covered in dirt. He was glaring at her.

"I am!" she called out. "The sun was in my eyes!"

He nodded and flew higher, beginning a series of punches and kicks that Bulma could hardly make out. As soon as Yamcha disappeared behind a tree, she turned her sights onto the pond once more.

It was so peaceful here. All she had to do was ignore the sound of Yamcha grunting and exploding things behind her in the background. She had been watching him for at least half an hour now and her ears were ringing. Watching the stagnant pond water took her away from the destruction.

For a moment she thought about the Androids. Having no idea what they looked like or who they were, this was no easy task. Bulma stared intently at a lily pad. Things had been so different.

Sure, the androids were evil creations that needed to be stopped; that cute boy from the future had said as much. The thought of her friends ganging up on them had been thrilling and exciting. Goku was going to wipe them off the face of the planet and Earth would be saved!

Except…

Bulma sat up and looked down. The stakes were higher. She no longer felt an adrenaline rush when she watched one of her friends train. She only thought of her future self in a timeline where all of the people she cared about were dead.

Krillin, Yamcha, sweet Gohan, Goku… and Vegeta too.

Gosh, how had that relationship panned out on that side of time? It had been doomed from the start, hadn't it? What was it like to prepare yourself to have a baby without the threat of the androids looming over you? She and Vegeta must have had no reason to stick together whatsoever. How long had it lasted? A few months of sex and maybe she'd kicked him to the curb.

Of course, once the androids had showed up, it was possible that things had changed.

Bulma knew that in the future, she must have been a lot stronger than she was now. She was still alive there after all. Here she felt like curling into a ball and hiding under blankets, too afraid to face the possibility of her friends' demise.

Her eyes began to burn and she hurriedly brushed them away with the back of her hand. There wouldn't be any of that. There couldn't be.

"Is everything okay?"

Bulma hadn't seen Yamcha descend and so she was startled by the sound of his voice. She quickly put on a smile to reassure him.

"I'm alright. Just a little stomach pain," she lied, hoping he'd drop the subject, which he didn't.

"Is it the baby?" he asked, kneeling in front of her with a worried look on his face. "Should we go to the hospital?"

"I'm fine," Bulma said, pushing him away and standing up. "So, you're done training huh?"

Yamcha stood up. "Yeah, I guess so. I really need a shower." He sniffed his armpits for emphasis and Bulma turned her head in disgust.

"Where're you headed, B?" asked her ex-boyfriend, walking to a paved area where she could unload her car from its tiny capsule.

"Probably home," she answered. "I need a shower too."

He stopped walking and turned toward her. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? I can fly you home myself, you know."

Yamcha reached out his arms as though he were going to pick her up, but Bulma backed away. "I'd rather drive."

He looked taken aback by her sudden gesture and then he frowned. "You didn't seem to have a problem when… never mind."

He started to walk again, a lot faster this time and Bulma could see that his mood had turned sour. "Hey!" she called after him. "Yamcha, wait up!"

"What for?" he responded. "You're driving remember?"

Bulma rolled her eyes and sped up so that she could keep up with his long-legged pace. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings.

"I just don't think I should be hundreds of feet in the air in this condition," she explained.

"You think I'd drop you."

"Well… no," she added quickly, although that was exactly what had crossed her mind. She could tell that Yamcha didn't believe her.

Once they reached the pavement he gave her a thin-lipped smile. "I'll see you later, okay? Drive safe."

She opened her mouth to stop him from leaving in such a bad mood, but she didn't know what to say in her own defense. He shot up into the air and disappeared from sight.

Man, she was really going to have to find some female friends.

Chi-Chi was in the process of tying her yellow shawl into a knot when she heard the doorbell. She was puzzled; Gohan and Goku were off training at Master Roshi's today, and she hadn't been expecting any visitors.

"Coming!" she shouted from her bedroom, patting her hair. "Be right there!"

She walked quickly from her bedroom and to the front door. She stood on tiptoes and peered out of the peephole. Talk about unexpected visitors.

"Bulma!" she cried as she opened the door and threw her arms around her dear friend. "It's been a long time! What are you doing here?"

Bulma laughed and broke away from her grasp. "Oh, it hasn't been that long has it? A few months."

Chi-Chi grabbed her arm and led Bulma inside her home, shutting the front door and leaning against it. "Don't give me that! Everyone's been so busy! I imagine you've been working in your lab all this time…"

She trailed off once she had given her visitor a closer look. Bulma was dressed like a bum, in baggy sweatpants and a large sweatshirt that must have belonged to a giant.

"It's clear you haven't been shopping," she commented, arching an eyebrow and standing straight. "Although I have to admit, your hair looks fantastic."

Bulma touched her hair and rolled her eyes upward as though she could see her scalp.

"So, what brings you by here to No Man's Land?" Chi-Chi inquired, walking into the kitchen with Bulma at her heels. "Would you like anything to eat? I have blueberry cobbler."

She paused by the refrigerator.

"Can I have some water?" asked Bulma, taking a seat at the table and scooting in close. "And can't a girl come visit her friends every once in a while?"

"Sure they can," Chi-Chi answered, rummaging through a cabinet for a glass, "but not you. Goku's not here and neither is Gohan but I can tell them you came by."

She set the glass on the table and took a seat across from Bulma, who looked guilty. Chi-Chi wondered if she were being a little harsh. After all, the woman lived all the way across town and it wasn't like Chi-Chi had made an effort to visit either.

"I didn't come to see Goku or Gohan," Bulma told her, taking a tiny sip of water. "This is purely girl talk."

Girl talk? Since when was Bulma 'Action-packed' Brief up for girl talk? Their last conversation had been about Gohan's infancy, which had been a nice topic for discussion, but not exactly 'girly'. The two of them had been friends for decades though, so Chi-Chi was willing to listen.

"It's about a guy."

Immediately Chi-Chi's interests were peaked. As far as she knew, Bulma and Yamcha had broken up, but she hadn't seen any other guys around and no one in the press had printed it in a trashy magazine yet.

"Who?" she asked, leaning forward with wide eyes.

Bulma stared into her glass.

"I can't say exactly. I just… I need another woman's opinion."

Chi-Chi gestured for her to continue. Gosh, it had been a long time since she'd gotten any good conversation. Her family and friends had immersed themselves in training which meant that the most gossip she heard nowadays centered around who had come up short in a spar that day. Boring!

"I've been seeing this guy recently," Bulma began, and Chi-Chi's expression must have alarmed her because she quickly added, "as friends!"

"Right."

"We've been spending a lot of time together lately, which is nice," she said, "but I'm starting to think that… that he's not looking to just be friends."

Chi-Chi pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"I can't! To be honest, I thought the two of us were on the same page until he got upset about a comment I made yesterday." Bulma sighed. "It made me realize that I've kind of been leading him on."

"Leading him on how?"

"Going with him to doctor's appointments, having lunch, inviting him over to my place. It's been really innocent. We don't even hold hands."

Chi-Chi was confused. "I don't get it. Why hang out with this guy in the first place if you don't want to have a relationship?"

Bulma put her head in her hands. "I know! I feel so guilty about all of this. I should never have gotten his hopes up again."

After she had said that, her face reddened and Chi-Chi's jaw dropped.

"You're re-dating Yamcha!"

Bulma echoed her bewildered expression. "I am not! We're just friends and he knows that!"

"Then why are you still going out with him, huh?" Chi-Chi asked, feeling smug about figuring out the mystery gentleman. "You and Yamcha are back together!"

"No! That's my point! I don't want to get back together with him! I really don't!"

There was a silence.

"I think I've been leading him on though," Bulma continued, looking at her hands. "The worst part is that I didn't even realize it. I've just really needed company lately."

Chi-Chi blinked.

"Not that kind of company, Chi-Chi," Bulma asserted. "Get your mind out of the gutter why don't you?"

Well, that was hard to do now that she thought about it.

"Honestly Bulma," said Chi-Chi, "it's really not that hard to see what needs to be done. You've got to stop spending so much time with Yamcha. You broke up with him a long time ago. I've got it! Get a new hobby; I've started candle making!"

"I don't think it's that simple. I think he needs me."

Chi-Chi stood up and began pouring herself a much needed glass of water. "The only person who needs someone is you and that's clear as day. Whatever happened to the Bulma Brief I used to know? Shouldn't you be out stealing cars and chasing bad guys?"

Bulma cracked a smile and Chi-Chi sat back down, patting her outstretched arm.

"Yamcha's going to take your absence a lot better than you think. Second time can't be too bad, right?"

Bulma rolled her eyes.

"In the meantime, put on some clothes that fit you and get back to work! I don't want my Goku out there without one of your gadgets protecting him!"

That was the truth. She had seen one of those pairs of special glasses with the colored lenses that read power levels. Goku claimed they had saved his life on more than one occasion so, even though he never used his pair anymore, Chi-Chi kept them safe on the top shelf of their closet just in case.

"I can't seem to focus on work anymore," her friend confessed. "I don't feel like myself."

Chi-Chi took a large gulp of water and stared out of the kitchen window. She had been feeling like that a lot too as of late, and she knew why.

"It's too early to tell, but I think we'll all be okay," she said. "Everyone's been training so hard. I'm one to talk, but I don't think you should worry so much about the future."

Bulma was quiet for a moment. "I keep wondering when they're going to show up, you know? Goku and Piccolo know for sure, but still. The scientist in me understands a little about time travel to ask the most horrible questions. What if our timeline's undergone some immediate, unforeseen change because that boy arrived from the future? You've heard of the butterfly effect."

Chi-Chi certainly had, but she refused to waste her time on hypotheticals. "Look, Bulma. The androids are coming whether we like it or not. We're all doing our best to prepare for that. If anything else comes along that we didn't expect, we'll just have to improvise."

"I hate having to improvise."

"That certainly explains you and Yamcha," Chi-Chi said with a shake of her head. "And to think, I thought you had more sense than that."

Bulma smiled. "Have we met?"

"I'm not sure. The Bulma I know wouldn't be caught dead in those sweatpants."

"Oh, these?" Bulma stuck out a leg and shrugged. "They're not mine. I found them in a hamper."

Chi-Chi wrinkled her nose. "They're probably Vegeta's then. Have you guys been getting along? I've been asking Goku to keep an eye out."

A pause followed her statement and the dark-haired woman gave her friend a quizzical stare.

"Hello? Earth to Bulma?"

"Yeah, they probably are," she answered. "He's the only one who bothers to put anything in a laundry basket."

Chi-Chi hated to ask, but felt it polite since the dreadful man was a member of her best friend's household. "How's Vegeta doing anyway? He hasn't come over to pick a fight with Goku lately."

Bulma began picking at lint on her sweatshirt. "He went off to train somewhere. I haven't seen him in a few days."

"Wonderful! The house must finally be full of peace and quiet!"

More silence.

"Is everything okay?" asked Chi-Chi, not used to a Bulma whose mouth remained sealed, especially not when the conversation involved the egotistical prince. "Was it something I said?"

Bulma looked startled. "No! I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment. You're right. I should get back to work especially now that Vegeta's given me some time."

"You'll want to get a move on with that," Chi-Chi offered, "because as soon as he gets back it'll be a bunch of grunting, yelling and exploding gravity rooms."

"It might be fun to fix one again," Bulma said to her, eyeing her empty glass. "It's been awhile."

"Vegeta behaving himself? Now that's something I haven't heard before."

"Speaking of something you haven't heard… my dad's meeting with the space center today. I think I might take him up on his offer to help with a project."

Chi-Chi nodded enthusiastically. "Now that's the Bulma I know. What's it about?"

"Not sure," answered Bulma, "but it has something to do with lasers. You know what? I should go and see. I don't think the meeting has started yet."

"You should definitely go," Chi-Chi said, standing up and taking her and Bulma's dishes to the sink. "You may want to change your outfit though."

Bulma stood up and looked down at herself once more.

Chi-Chi turned on the faucet and waited for the water to warm.

"It's just a friendly suggestion."

And it wasn't the only one she hoped Bulma would take.

A/N: Thanks everyone for being so patient with me. You are extremely appreciated!