Music of the Night
Chapter: 10
Subtitle: Secrets and Plans
Author: Trixie-chan
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Note: So, folks, this is the last chapter. I thought that it would be a good place to end it as I wouldn't know what else to add in there other than like... more random sex scenes or random dates, and frankly that was too beginning-of-the-story writing. I feel it would take away from it and make it just another shit-tastic pile. I saw no point in dragging it out. Plus, when I started writing the chapter, the idea formed for the rest of it, and it ended up being the end.

Anyway, I hope that you've enjoyed the (hopefully) better writing that I have employed since finishing this, and I hope that it's at least somewhat worth it. Sorry again for the... what was it, four-year wait? _ My bad. Read and review!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bulma yawned and stretched her arms over her head before she cuddled further into her blankets. At that point she realized that Vegeta was no longer next to her; not that this was a surprise.

It had been three months since the concert—three wonderful months in her opinion. She ended up caving in that first day he came to her at work and called him that same night. He was good on his word and had come right over. After the first month, he began coming to her work or her house at night whenever he could (which was usually every day). It seemed that they were developing an actual relationship, something she was entirely not used to but grew into with alacrity. It was as if they had never separated.

She tightened herself into a ball in one final stretch move, then straightened herself up and rolled upright. She wasn't surprised to see that Vegeta wasn't there—he rarely was. Not to say that he left; rather, he wandered the complex, used the gym, and on a few terrifying occasions spoke with her parents. She remembered the first time she had come down to see him sitting at the kitchen table having coffee with her father with a shudder.

After her usual morning shower and bathroom ritual, Bulma wandered into her closet and dressed for the first day of the weekend—a comfortable pair of well-worn jeans and a plain t-shirt. On her way down to the living room, the sound of a man and a woman's laughter drifted up the stairs. For a split second, she had a thrill of panic. He wasn't talking to her mother, was he? A second later she realized that couldn't be the case. The woman's laughter wasn't as shrill and piercing as her mother's. She recognized it but couldn't place it immediately.

The obviousness of it hit her as she got to the bottom of the stairs and saw Vegeta and Trixie sitting on the couch together. She berated herself for not recognizing her best friend's laugh. Then she began to wonder what the hell they were laughing about... She didn't think that the Home Shopping Network was that comical, but she could have been wrong.

"What are you guys doing?" she questioned leaning against the stair railing.

Trixie smiled and shook her head. "Oh, nothing. Salespeople," she commented gesturing at the television.

Bulma eyed her for a moment suspiciously, and then she turned her critical eyes on Vegeta. He just looked calmly back at her, his characteristic smirk playing on his lips. "You could have woken me up, you know," she said slowly, gauging his reaction.

He shrugged. "I didn't see the need. Plus, Trix and I needed to work out more specifics of her CD. Boring, non-mechanical stuff, you know?" he explained.

Bulma didn't buy it. Even with her innate sense of when people were scheming, she sighed and gave up. As surely as she knew that something was up, she also knew that she wasn't going to get it out of them.

Eyeing them with trepidation, she joined them on the couch. No sooner had she sat down, however, but Trixie got up.

"Welp, I must be going," she stated as she headed towards the door. "Meeting, ya know. See ya, Bulma. Nice talking with ya, Veggie." They heard the door shut.

Bulma was pleased when she saw that the corners of his mouth pull down indicating that "Veggie" was obviously not a universally accepted new pet name, but she was also confused and frustrated about this supposed "talk." They sat in silence as the woman on the TV tried to pawn off random sparkly keepsakes to bored, lonely housewives. Then Vegeta yawned, stretched, and stood up. She looked at him in askance, her brows forking together.

"Gotta go," he said quietly leaning over to kiss her forehead. "We still on for tonight?"

"Yeah..." she replied absently. "Where are you going?" She was starting to get worried. What was with all of the secrets?

"Just some errands," he said. He righted himself and pulled that disarming smirk onto his face. She hated when he did that. "Remember, I'm picking you up at 6:00."

"Yeah, I remember," she breathed. Why did she not want him to leave so bad? It almost irritated her that her feelings for Vegeta seemed to multiply every day. That smirk didn't help her, nor did the secrets.

"See ya later, babe," he called as he headed for the door.

She dropped her head onto the back of the couch when she heard the door close. Her eyes narrowed and a frown tweaked her lips. Well now what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?

~*~*~*~

Vegeta's chat with Trixie hadn't been "enlightening" so to speak, but it had been reassuring. She had agreed with him that how he read her was exactly the way that she was to be read.

His and Bulma's relationship had been so powerful five years ago, and after so long as a player of sorts, frankly he was afraid that she, and any sort of relationship in general, wouldn't appeal to him anymore. In fact, he was most worried that she wouldn't even be the same girl he had (he finally admitted) fallen in love with.

The truth was exactly that, though. She wasn't the same girl. She was an even better woman. That spark that was there as a young woman was now a full-blown flame that was honed to perfection—the perfect blend of independence and sexual power that made him shiver to even think about. She had matured, and she was perfect.

That night at the concert was not exactly what he had planned, but it ended up being better than he had hoped. Upon seeing her, he assumed that she hated him. She was so cold. But then he got to thinking, why would she have come here just to tell him off? That seemed too petty and wasteful for her. Not to mention the way her friend had acted. He was confident, eventually, that this would not be their last meeting. This cold exterior that she radiated at first was a wall of protection to keep her feelings from surfacing.

After that night, he had planned on seeing her the next day, and from there he would assess the likelihood of a future between them. He knew that they fit together, but he had already known that. It was that near slip of the tongue that solidified his musings.

He knew that she had hoped he hadn't heard it, but he had. He knew what she had almost said. He hadn't said anything back because he was biding his time. He had learned during his time in Japan that his feelings for her had not gone away and would not—he still loved her and doubted that would ever stop. He kept these feelings hidden, though, because he would appear incredibly weak. Still pining after the girl he had separated from years prior who had probably moved on by then? He would never be taken seriously. So he had schmoozed and seduced and got a hardy amount of women, but they never fully satisfied him—no matter how hard they tried.

Bulma… She had. The best sex he ever had was with her. He knew that he would do everything he could to be with her. He was selfish, and he didn't want to share.

Here presented his dilemma. If he knew Bulma as he thought he did, he knew that she was not necessarily the marrying type. She was possessive, yes, but not the person to bind herself such. Frankly, neither was he, so that worked perfectly. But he wasn't one-hundred percent positive on that. This was where Trixie came in.

He had her come over (under the pretense of discussing her new album that he was producing) so that he could find out for sure from the person who knew her the longest and probably the best. She had confirmed that she really wasn't the marrying type and really never had been. She hadn't been the little girl planning her wedding and desperately wanting to be a bride like other girls—Trixie included. She had been the little genius building things as soon as she could grip a wrench and who planned running a multi-million-dollar company rather than a wedding.

That was not to say, Trixie pointed out, that Bulma didn't want people to know that something was hers. When they were younger, she never wrote her name on things that she considered hers. All she had to do was to make it known that it was hers. This confirmed what he had thought, and he had run this idea past her. She had agreed wholeheartedly (and flung herself on him in an uncomfortable hug).

He fingered the velvet box as he made his way to Bulma's at a leisurely pace in his black sports car. It wasn't an engagement ring as he classified it, not a wedding ring. He thought of it as a promise ring—a forever ring—because they didn't need ceremonies and vows when they trusted and loved each other.

There would be those who would say it was too soon, of course, but what did they know? They had been together, in some ways, the entire five-plus year span even though they were physically apart. He knew that she hadn't forgotten or replaced him, and he had not done so either.

It wasn't too soon. Not for them. They could feel the connection and how right it was.

Those fluffy thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind as he pulled up in front of her building and saw her make her way out to the car. She had a long, slinky black dress with a sheer white shawl draped over her shoulders. He smiled as he slid the box into his pocket.

This was going to be the first night of the rest of their lives.

~*~ The End ~*~

Cheesetastic ending, but still cute I think. :) I hope I did not disappoint at all, and if I did... Sorry? :P Can't change it now!

This ends Music of the Night—probably five years after it was started. Thanks all who read, thanks all who reviewed, and thanks all who didn't hate me TOO much. ;) Love!

- Amber (Trixie-chan)