"Keep your eyes closed! No cheating!"
"This is fucking ridiculous…" Vegeta growled, trying to twist his face out from under Bulma's folded hands. She was ushering him about like a child to the promise of something worth his compliance. He was about fed up with her tricks. The woman had been fluttering about, just out of reach for weeks now. She was always up to something, always reeking of metal and chemicals and her efforts from each day of labor.
Enticing and disgusting all at once – and here, he had allowed her to drag him about the building, her dainty hands clasping abruptly over each of his eyes as she urged him forward from behind him, her chest pressed against him, begging him to play along.
The pitter-patter not far behind them told him the child was in tow as well, and he frowned deeper, hoping she'd catch the downward creases.
"I swear, onna, I am done. Get the hell off me—" the Saiyan snarled and reached up to pry her fingers apart from over his face.
Her laughter was inching up the back of his neck as she allowed him to forcefully remove her hands. Bulma peered around Vegeta's massive form to spy his agitation, and she beamed winningly in return. "You know," she began loftily, rounding the man with a wayward glance spared to her trailing child, "if you want this present, you should really be nicer to me."
"And what makes you think I give a damn about some 'present'?"
She pouted, her lower lip sticking out just far enough to antagonize him and annoy him. "I worked really hard on this, Vegeta," Bulma half-sighed, before that downtrodden gaze morphed into something a bit more wicked. "And dammit, you'd better be grateful! I didn't bust my ass—" (Trunks gasped in awe of his mother's language) "—So you could be a prick about it!"
"Shut up," he cut her continuing tirade short with an open palm and closed eyes. "Quit wasting my time with your incessant babble. There's training I could be doing, instead of allowing you to play your foolish games."
Something in his request seemed to lighten her mood. All at once, Bulma fell easily into her glee again, and she eagerly beckoned Trunks forward with an outstretched arm. Her son hurried forward into her waiting embrace, and Bulma hoisted him up on her hip as he laughed boyishly. Ignoring Vegeta's sneer of distaste, the blue-hued woman flourished with her free arm to the door behind her. "Your gift lays behind door number one, Your Highness," Bulma teased, as the child shifted against her hold. "Go ahead, take a peek."
Fleetingly perturbed by her mockery of his title, Vegeta tipped his nose up from her and eyed the closed doors skeptically. Another glance was thrown askance to the preening woman, and it did little to settle his impatience. With a sigh, he moved forward past her, his fingers deftly pressing into the red button beside the doors.
When they parted, Vegeta could not stifle the sharp inhale of surprise at what lay beyond.
"Well?" Bulma's voice beside his ear startled him, and Vegeta looked quickly upon her. His apparent surprise was enough to rile Bulma's insides and, heart aflutter and stomach twisting up in anticipation, she followed the Saiyan further into the expansive room.
The area was wide and spacious – undoubtedly half of the entire wing had been sacrificed to this endeavor. Located at the topmost floor, the walls and roof were sloped to the dome-shaped quality of the home's structure. Sleek black and sterling molding was inset around the walls and sturdy purple tiling lay at their feet. Somewhere in the walls, a dull humming signified the room had a greater function.
It was the closest to awe that Vegeta had ever come to when in regards to this woman and her accomplishments. He looked to her, finding her immersed in her own creations – her son and this room – as she was wandering about the interior and pointing out objects with Trunks as she allowed Vegeta his moment of wonder. When she turned back, a great smile graced her features, and she bent down to set Trunks upon his feet.
"What do you think?" Bulma queried as she righted herself and settled both hands at her hips; pride in her genius and in her efforts obvious in her high-chested stance.
"It's a gravity room," Vegeta offered blankly, and his dark eyes swung upwards to inspect the ceiling. "This is what you've been working on?"
He didn't see her nod, though her footfalls gradually closing in on him caught his attention in time to see her smile soften. "Yeah, this is it," Bulma exhaled her satisfaction, her gaze continuously roving his features for a sign, for anything resembling appreciation. If she couldn't find it, she supposed his marveling might satisfy her ego…
Abruptly, Vegeta turned away, something snatching his interest from her. He approached the large black control panel built into the adjacent wall, his hand skimming over the shiny buttons as a frown tilted his mouth southward now. "This isn't like the simulator."
"Better than," Bulma supplied with a grin, brightening at his sudden glance. "It's a more advanced model, with—"
"Why?"
The query came speedily. Bulma's eyes widened in surprise at his darkening stare, at the skepticism behind his eyes - the distrust. It weakened her heart a little bit to find him looking at her in such a way. "Just … because," she struggled for an appropriate answer, one that would make sense to him.
"I mean, it's not like you've been making major progress with the simulator out back. I've seen you – you're stuck," Bulma continued on, without malice or cruelty, but instead with complete sincerity and (if Vegeta was not mistaken) traces of concern. "So, I figured I'd build your something that runs a little harder and faster. And it's roomier!" Her arms spread outward to indicate the space. When the emotionless expression upon Vegeta's face seemed irremovable, Bulma dropped her limbs to her sides defeatedly. "I just thought you had outgrown it and needed something better."
Vegeta's tensed eyebrows leveled, and he settled a curious gaze upon the woman. "You built this for my advancement?"
A thought occurred to Bulma, then; a feasible excuse, one that would not scare him nor diminish her pride. A smile slowly spread over her lips as she then hitched a single shoulder, her hand stretching downward to grab at Trunks' reaching own. "That and I needed some way to keep you out of my hair. There won't be any, 'Onna, that piece of shit's broken' or 'Onna, fix this now!'" Throughout her ridicule of Vegeta's demanding ways, Bulma adopted his typical scowl and deeply knitted brow, her free fist balling in mock-fury as she shook it in the air.
Below her, Trunks giggled and pointed up at his mother with a fat grin. "You play daddy really well, mama!" However, the young boy was permitted a quick warning frown from his father, and immediately the child fell into a hush once again.
Vegeta looked up from their lavender-haired son to appraise the woman now. "Hn. Really? Well, we will see how long this junker holds up, onna," Vegeta countered with a derisive snort, and he turned his profile to his son and Bulma. "Now, leave me."
A groan of exasperation erupted from Bulma's lungs as she spun away from the Saiyan, her hand still wrapped firmly about Trunks' smaller one as she tugged him along beside her. Yet her heart pound furiously against her throat, willing her to linger and to try again, and Bulma hesitated by the door catch a departing glimpse of Vegeta.
Now, it could've been the light. It could've just been her imagination. But as the ghost of a smile appeared to inch up his mouth, Bulma nevertheless found herself buoyed by a certain fulfillment.
Author's Note: And I'll make up for the angry B/V in the previous chapter with something sweet. Yay, family togetherness! Anyway, this is an idea that has been floating around in my head for a while now.
When I saw that Vegeta had a training room INSIDE Capsule Corp. during the Great Saiyaman arc, I was all, "AWWW, BULMA BUILT HIM A NEW GRAV ROOM!" So I just wanted to imagine how it would play out when she'd show him his new toy. ;)
Trunks is a little older now, so I'd say this is about three years, maybe almost four, after Cell.