"So, now all we've got to do is figure out how to make a new tracking device," Bulma said, her ponytail whipping her face lightly as she turned back to the house.

Her younger self climbed out of the cockpit. "Sure. But are you crazy?" she asked, jumping down the last few rungs to the ground. "I mean, you did realize that was Vegeta that you gave the device to, right? I mean, this is the one who breaks all of his training equipment at least five times a day."

Bulma sighed, not deigning to answer herself. The young woman would understand soon enough. There were some things in life that were simply inevitable, and the long haired woman believed this particular romance to be one of them.

"Come on," she said instead, walking up to the front doors. "Let's get dinner going."

For not caring about the Saiyan Prince, the younger Bulma sure seemed to be anxious for his safety, the older woman noted with amusement a few hours later. She kept on sitting down and standing up, going to the lab and coming back to the kitchen after just a few minutes. In fact, when she was drumming her fingernails on the top of the table, Bulma could have sworn they'd been chewed on from sheer nerves.

But to be honest, the older woman was nervous for him too. The Vegeta she knew would most likely rather die than use a machine to defeat his enemies and that worried her to no end. And if he did, Trunks would never exist in this time and it would be all her fault for letting him go…

Fwump.

Bulma jumped up at the tiny noise as if it had been a gunshot and her younger self yelped from the sudden movement. Normally, Vegeta was silent, skilled and in control like a predator. If Bulma was right in thinking that the small sound had been his landing, then he must be in pretty bad shape. Without any warning, the long hair woman rushed out to the front yard as fast as she could manage.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped outside. In one second, she took in the collapsed form of the dark haired Saiyan, the blood, the shredded armor…

It's just like before…how could I let this happen? Why did I let him fight those monsters? The older Bulma asked herself, struck in the heart by the horror.

She was so focused on the prone shape before her, that she hadn't noticed the short haired woman next to her until she ran up shrieking, "Vegeta!" The young woman skidded on her knees to his side and shook him somewhat violently.

The Saiyan Prince winced, proving that, somehow, he was still alive.

It didn't register to the young woman that he was in such a bad shape. After all, she'd seen him pretty bad off from his self imposed training anyway. "Stupid!" she yelled from just a few feet away. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?! And what possessed you to come to the future in the first place? You owe me a new stereo, you know!" The young woman glared at Vegeta venomously, her arms crossed.

Vegeta ignored her and tried sitting up, unsuccessfully collapsing back onto the ground. The young woman shrieked, "You're hurt! Stay down."

No one was about to order this Prince around, he tried again and the past Bulma started yelling at him. "You are idiotic. You stubborn, spoiled, pig-headed—"

The dark haired man smirked despite his injuries and retorted, "Surely you are referring to yourself."

The young woman started yelling rather colorful statements at the fallen warrior in earnest. And all the older Bulma could seem to do was smile, a little sadly, but still smile. How she missed those days.

She let them verbally abuse each other for several more moments and got to watch first-had the changes that went on in the two young people's eyes. At first, they really had only been angry with each other, but as each matched the other, blow for blow, it began to change. It was as if they understood each other and respected the other person's strength, the other person's pride.

It was there in the subtle glint of Vegeta's dark eyes and the glitter in Bulma's blue gaze. While the words had not changed in intensity, their intentions had taken a 180.

It won't be long now… the older woman thought, smiling at her own set of memories and walking over to point out to both of them that they could fight to their hearts' content from inside the hospital.