"What's the matter with you?"

Bulma looked up from the stove, startled by her mother's sudden apparition. Bunny was nearly nose to nose with her. Rearing back from her mother, the blue tressed woman's features pulled into an annoyed expression. "Nothing's wrong! Why are you so nosy?"

"Because I know my Bulma-chan," Bunny told her daughter assuredly. "There's something wrong! Ever since you came back from the city with Chi Chi-san today, you've been grinning and avoiding everyone!"

A blush tinted Bulma's typically pale complexion, and she attempted to appear far more fascinated with the popcorn she had leveled over the burner. "You're imaging things, Mama." When the sounds of crackling corn kernels errupted, Bulma let a satisfied grin tip over her mouth. "There's nothing wrong, I promise."

Abruptly, Bunny sucked in a breath. Her daughter whipped her head around, finding herself unsettled by her mother's fatal stare. "I know that look," the blonde whispered harshly as a sparkle came into her slowly widening eyes. "That look … it can only mean one thing…"

"You don't know anything! Stop looking at me like that," came Bulma's hasty, shrill reprimand, her cheeks brightening further.

"You tell me now, Bulma-chan! Just when did you find out?"

Footfalls halted in the hall, unbeknownst to either woman.

"To think you would try to hide something like this from your mother," Bunny scolded, though giddiness was rife within her lilting voice. "You should know better!"

While the wires in Vegeta's brain crossed and tangled in an effort to riddle out what they could be prattling about, Bulma snorted outrageously. "You're riding a sugar high, Mama," she brushed off the older woman firmly as she sprinkled salt over her bucket of popcorn.

"Well, be that as it may," Bunny obliged with a smirk, "it's nothing compared to what you've been riding."

Though he would usually find Bulma's scandalized shriek amusing, the disgraceful commentary courtesy of her mother had even Vegeta appalled by the older woman's level of perversion.

"Y-you can't say things like that, Mama!" Bulma's voice dropped now into a stuttering hush. "Someone could hear you!"

The emphasis was clear even to Vegeta, as he rolled his eyes at the woman's rare attempt at decency.

Bunny harrumphed, her heels clicking furiously after Bulma around the wide kitchen, tickling pinpricks of annoyance down Vegeta's spine. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, dear! I'm admittedly very envious—"

"Oh, god!" Bulma sounded nearly as nauseated as he felt by that admission. The Saiyan cringed as an unwanted visual danced around his mind, those massive eyebrows dipping together in his consternation. He spit ferociously at the floor in an effort to rid himself of the image, while Bulma continued in her haste to disconnect herself from this discussion. "Mama, just … stop. Please."

"Tell me how many weeks along you are! That's all I want to know!"

Vegeta's stomach somersaulted. Such a revelation immediately drained him of any urge to eat, and he pushed away from the wall. Hesitating, he battled with the will to confront the woman now and the ostensible need to run away from such an event. He bit down hard on his tongue at the notion of fleeing, tasting copper in his mouth as he pivoted down the hall, rapidly separating himself from the duo in the kitchen.

"I'm not pregnant! How could you think that?!" Bulma gasped, aghast, and her mouth dropped open. "You're insane!"

"A mother always knows," Bunny waved a finger under her daughter's nose and fluttered her lashes in a knowing wink. "You can't hide this, Bulma-chan. You're glowing! Look how pink you are!" Her mother touched the tips of her index fingers to both of Bulma's luminous cheeks, a grin spreading swiftly to reveal her pearly, perfect teeth. "This is a mother's glow!"

Bulma bolted back from her mother and rounded the island, her bowl tucked under her arm, practically sprinting into the other room in an attempt to put as much distance as possible between she and Bunny's glittering laughter.

Half a romantic comedy later, that oh-so-familiar tingle was inching up Bulma's neck and her hand paused mid-reach for her popcorn. Barely turning her head, she easily spotted the shortish, muscular shadow playing against the wall. It was curious; Vegeta rarely invited himself into the family's entertainment room, as he seemed to find the idea of using electronics for amusement completely worthless. Hadn't he said as much? When he refrained from moving from the corner, Bulma twisted at the waist, turning to gaze expectantly at him from across the room.

She didn't have to observe him long to take in his awkward stance, his apprehension, his clenched fists, and his wary eyeing of her. Manicured eyebrows knit together at once. "Vegeta? Daijoubu desu ka…?" Her voice died out slowly as a twitch of aggravation passed over his features.

"It's nothing," he replied swiftly, a slow step advancing him toward the couch where she was curled. To her, the Saiyan's words sounded cut off - as though there were more he had intended to say. All the while, the flicker of his gaze, usually so calculating and slow, betrayed his words. He was darting his eyes all about her, his lips beginning to bend in his agitation.

Bulma sighed heavily against the promised storm and shook her head, casually tossing the yellow bits of popcorn into her mouth as she dislodged herself from the mounds of blankets wrapped around her to stand. "Then what are you--?"

"Is it true?" He interrupted on a growl as his fists tensed at his sides.

Bulma appeared nonplussed, and it only incited his rage further. "Is what true?" She snapped in mirrored irritation, her hands sliding into place upon the curve of her hips. Yet quick eyes and keen senses worked on her behalf, and Bulma instantly picked up on his disconcerted state, the turning of his balled hands. She dropped her arms non-confrontationally to her sides and attempted to soften into polite curiousity instead. "Vegeta, you're acting really—"

Vegeta's head jerked in the direction of the kitchen as he bit out over her, "I heard you and that idiot woman babbling earlier."

It seemed that was all he could muster. The constriction of his throat around whatever was to follow was evident even to Bulma as she inhaled sharply, her hands clapping over her mouth in horror. "N-no!" She cried out a moment later, both palms whipping up to wave vehemently at Vegeta as he shifted nearer to the sofa. "God, no! There's no way that's happening again, Vegeta. That," she breathed out shakily as she deposited herself down on the couch again, "is something you can bet on."

Waves of relief rolled through his chest at her certainty and her fluster. Vegeta allowed himself a slow exhale, the tension at once rippling out of his muscles as his terror abated. Yet anger suddenly sparked anew within his mind as he rallied against himself for his absurdity; how could he allow himself to be spun so tight as to fear, of all things, further procreation? And her assurance that it 'wouldn't happen again?' It disgusted him and annoyed him to the core, and he gritted his teeth against the flash of rage. "The fuck were you talking about, then?"

His aggression ripped under Bulma's skin. "The fuck were you listening for, then?" She retorted furiously, her azure eyes afire. "Are you really that bored? Gotta get your kicks eavesdropping on me and my mother?" With a great guffaw at his stupefied stare, Bulma turned to face him fully and she propped both arms over the back of the couch as she dipped her chest and leaned toward him.

Very much aware of his ever-infuriated glower (she could easily make out the glints of red in his irises) Bulma mock-whispered, "Chi Chi's pregnant again. But shhh," her delicate finger pressed to her lips and she winked impishly. "It's a secret!"

At her insolence, he snarled in protest, and she twisted halfway from him with an abhorrent sniff. "Why are you so mad?! I just told you, it's not me!" A thought occurred to the woman then, and Bulma smiled vaguely toward the ceiling. "It's really an interesting turn of things, isn't it? I mean, Trunks-chan can have a playmate, and--"

"That's it! This is done, onna!" Vegeta barked loudly, brandishing a threatening forefinger toward her as he took another step, those vicious eyes narrowing upon her inquisitive features. "You stay the hell out of my bed, do you understand me?"

A tinkling laugh fell out of Bulma's mouth as she tipped back and fell, stretched out on the couch. Her arm came up to sling over her eyes as a means to mask her mirth, albeit her smirk unhidden. "Yeah, okay, Vegeta," she giggled spitefully, his presence becoming palpable as he towered over her. Bulma moved her arm to peek a blue orb out from under her elbow. "I'll try to contain myself. Somehow."

He took her in scornfully, his upper lip curling back in apparent loathing, before he spun away from the couch. Yet he paused at the door when he heard her shift behind him. Bulma smiled to herself, not bothering to lift up from the cushions as she bid him sweetly, "I'll see you later, Vegeta-kun."

Author's Note: A cute scenario I thought of the other day. Thinking of Vegeta lowering himself to eavesdrop on the likes of Bulma and Bunny makes me giggle. The Bad Man can't fight anyone or anything, so this is how he acts out. ;P Or something. I also just like writing Bulma and Bunny - they're so cute together, awww!