Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this one. xD. It was difficult to write, and there are parts of it that I really enjoy and parts of it that I think is total trash. So, let me know what you think. Thank you guys so much for the reviews and enjoy!

Saiyan Terminology is located at the bottom of the story.

Website: ay-vb . sakura . ne . jp/_top . html
1. Erase the spaces between the words and the periods. Obviously. xD.
2. The website is in Japanese, but that's okay. At the top there is a list of words in English. Click on GALLERY.
3. Left hand panel is a bunch of words, in Japanese. But the numbers 365 are obviously numerical so you can read them. Click it.
4. There's now a drop hand box thingy to the left, and again the numbers are numerical so don't worry about not being able to read the title of the picture. Just follow along with the numbers. Click number TWELVE for this drabble!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to it. All of that belongs to Akira Toriyama, and I am just playing around with them. I also do not own the FanArt that I am using for this drabble series. I'm not quite sure who made them, because I can't read Japanese. But I'm sure the name is on the website somewhere and the pictures belong to him/her/them. Whoever. xD. I am just using the pics for inspiration.

Like Clockwork (365 Days)

Day 012: Shopping

"Absolutely not," Vegeta answered without hesitation, ignoring Bulma's whines of protest as he got into bed. Bulma climbed in as well, not even bothering with shorts as she slipped on one of Vegeta's shirts and pressed herself up against the Saiyan's back.

"But Vegeta-" she started, only to be cut off by her husband.

"I said no."

Bulma pouted and unconsciously pressed a kiss to the back of Vegeta's neck. "It's not like I ask you to do this all the time. But it's going to be Bulla's first Christmas and I always go by myself! You don't help with the decorating, you don't help with the tree, and you don't ever help wrap the presents. The least you could do is take a few hours out of your 'busy' day and shop for presents with me."

"I could, but I don't want to. So I won't," Vegeta responded curtly, crossing his arms and refusing to look at her. He hated when she wore his clothing because it made it difficult for him to not tear it off of her. He had gone shopping with her twice since he first came to the planet known as Chikyuu, and he couldn't stand those two trips and he'd be damned to do it a third time when there would be even more people crowding into the blasted building she called the 'mall' because of all the holiday sales going on. He refused.

"Vegeta!" Bulma scolded, more than a little miffed at the prince's noncompliance. "Would you just-" she attempted to convince him, but was cut off when Vegeta turned around faster than she could blink and had her back pressed firmly into the mattress, her wrist pinned above her head and a rather irritated Saiyan looking down at her.

"No."

"But-"

"No!" he finally yelled out, causing Bulma's mouth to snap shut. The two glared at each other in silence for a moment before Bulma yanked her hands free, pushing her hand into the Saiyan's chest. He recognized that as the signal for him to get off of her and allow her to move, which he did begrudgingly. Bulma was angry, and he knew it. But he was going to stand his ground and not let this woman make him do something that he really didn't want to do.

"Okay," Bulma began slowly, sitting up slightly to look Vegeta in the eyes. "You don't have to go. I'll go Christmas shopping by myself, again. You can stay here and be completely unproductive in your children's lives, again," she told him heatedly. Vegeta glared angrily at the woman, his pride rearing its ugly head as she scolded him.

"Waste of my time," he responded hotly, turning to lay on his side again with his back facing her. Bulma let out a frustrated groan and laid down, her back now facing Vegeta's back.

"Fantastic," she mumbled darkly, shutting off her bedside lamp and willing herself to fall asleep.

Sunlight was streaming into Vegeta's eyes, which was confusing to him since he was usually up before the sun. Cracking his eyes open, he noticed he had turned in the night and was now laying on his stomach, his arms underneath his pillow and his face towards Bulma's side of the bed. Which was why the sun was now bothering his eyesight. Bleary with sleep, he turned his face away to take a look at the alarm clock on the bedside table, only to find that there weren't any numbers displayed on the screen. Removing his arm from beneath his pillow he grabbed the thing and brought it closer, inspecting it. Was it broken?

With a grunt the Saiyan pushed himself onto his elbow, turning the object over in his hands. It didn't look broken. His eyes followed the cord and he sat up, his toes curling against the carpet beneath his feet as he moved the bedside table out of the way. With a frown he noticed that the clock had become unplugged, and he sat back a little and looked between the clock and the plug. He didn't understand why it would suddenly become unplugged like that, and then he noticed that Bulma wasn't lying in bed with him. She had somehow gotten up before he did, and he narrowed his eyes at the alarm clock. A second later and the door opened, the woman herself strolling in and heading straight for her closet.

"Forgot my jacket…" the blue haired woman mumbled to herself, pulling it out of the closet and heading back for the door, completely ignoring the Saiyan who was glaring at her.

"Did you unplug the alarm clock?" he asked her, his voice still rough with sleep. She paused at the door and turned to face him slightly.

"Why would I do that?" she asked, leaving without waiting for an answer. The tone in her voice answered his question and with a snarl he slammed the alarm clock back onto the table, standing up and rubbing his hands over his face. If that was her attempt at payback for his refusal the night before, then she had another thing coming because while it was incredibly annoying it wasn't enough to make Vegeta go with her. Pulling on a long sleeve shirt he hurried out of the room, catching Bulma in the living room talking to Trunks and glaring heavily at her. The teen looked between his parents and then shook his head, knowing something was up already.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asked her, clearly annoyed as he crossed his arms. Bulma turned her attention from Trunks to his father, staring at him with a rather blank face.

"How well do you know me, Vegeta?" she asked him then, causing him to hesitate. She did have a point, and now he was incredibly wary and annoyed with what else she would wind up doing. She turned to leave without waiting for a response, ignoring the growl Vegeta let loose.

He was going to wind up flipping out on her if she kept up with this attitude. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

The door slammed and Vegeta cursed, his foot tapping with agitation against the wood floor of the living room. Trunks pressed his lips into a tight line, feeling rather awkward and just wishing he could leave. He attempted to move from the couch, but his father was already standing next to him, glowering down at the fifteen-year-old.

"Morning dad," Trunks said pleasantly, already able to feel his father's agitation in the air.

"Where is your sister?"

"Grandma has her. She's running some errands and took Bulla so mom could go wherever she went," the younger prince explained, hoping his dad wouldn't take his anger out on him. Not that Trunks didn't mind sparring with his father on a normal basis, but he hated it when he sparred with his father when he was frustrated with the boy's mother. It was a particularly rough beat down that Trunks wasn't really looking forward to.

Vegeta seemed to consider this, lightly pacing in the living room. "Where exactly did she go?"

"Uh…I actually have no idea…" Trunks answered thoughtfully, looking towards the front door with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to track her ki though."

"To hell with it. I don't care anyways," Vegeta muttered, turning to head towards the kitchen. He would get some food and then work out his frustration in the gravity room. Trunks let out a sigh of relief when his father disappeared from sight and he turned the television off, getting out of there as soon as possible and heading towards the opposite side of the compound. He may not have known where his mother was going, but he knew where she had been this morning. And his father was going to be even angrier in about half an hour.

Vegeta hit the console so hard that his fist left a dent in the material, Vegeta angrily grinding his teeth together. She had made the gravity room inoperable, and upon tearing the hatch to the controls open, Vegeta was completely astonished to see that Bulma had rewired everything six ways from Sunday. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to fix this, and Vegeta let out a frustrated yell that sent his ki in every direction, causing small dents along the wall in the entire room. He couldn't believe the audacity of that woman, and as soon as she got home she was going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble. She couldn't just break the things that he used because he wouldn't go shopping with her. He should have known that she'd act like a child when she didn't get her way.

The prince pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, completely agitated. Leaving the gravity room, Vegeta escaped to the library, knowing at the very least there were several war books he could read while waiting for that blasted woman to get home. Stepping into the massive library, Vegeta quickly found the book he wanted and then he noticed he wasn't alone. Trunks was sitting at the one table in the corner of the library, up against the window. His nose was buried into a thick electrical engineering book, his hand holding onto a pen while it scribbled notes in one of his many notebooks. He hadn't even noticed Vegeta.

"Boy," Vegeta said loudly, causing Trunks to drop his pen and book as he jumped in his seat, his eyes flashing from sea blue to that turquoise blue of a Super Saiyan. He stared at Vegeta with wide eyes for a second and then let out a breath of air.

"Dad, don't do that!" he yelled, narrowing his eyes at his father who smirked and crossed his arms.

"You know better than to let your guard down like that. You deserved it," Vegeta justified. Trunks scowled and took in the title of the book his father chose and smiled at the choice. Anything that involved violence, war, crime, politics, or mystery his dad would read over and over again. "Aren't you on break? Why are you doing homework?"

"Mom's orders. Gave me a hypothetical scenario involving electrical engineering. Something is wrong with this product and I have to figure out what it is and what the best way to fix it," Trunks recited, picking up his pen again. Vegeta scoffed at the mention of his mother, and Trunks knew it too. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "If you're in here, it means you found out what she did to the Gravity Room…"

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" his father asked, taking a step closer to the table and narrowing his eyes.

"You know, when you guys use me to fight with each other, it's not cool. At all. Just so we're clear." Trunks looked up at his dad, taking in his appearance. His parents were crazy. "She told me not to tell."

"That woman-" Vegeta started, getting angry all over again. Trunks cut him off however.

"That woman is your life mate, and you made her mad because you can't bother to spend a few hours with her outside of this house. Even worse is you can't do an activity involving your two children that your life made gave birth to," Trunks said snidely, already aware of the death glare he was receiving from his father. Shutting his notebook and textbook, he stacked them and picked them up, pocketing his pen.

"You'd do well to watch yourself," Vegeta told him curtly, and Trunks nodded, finally looking at his dad.

"Yeah, you can kill me. I get it. Forget I said anything," the fifteen-year-old said, heading towards the door. He stopped halfway there and turned to face his father, who was peering at him over his shoulder. "You know, I recall someone telling me that as an adult, sometimes you have to do things you don't want. Out of respect or something like that. Was that you or was that Chibi buzzing in my ear again?" Trunks asked, not bothering to wait for a response as he turned on his heel and left his father to brood.

Bulma stepped into the house completely out of breath. She had spent the morning at the Sons house, deciding that she needed to get away from Vegeta and hang out with her childhood best friend instead. Goku's infectious happiness and personality was more than enough to take her mind off of her jerk of a husband for a few hours. The afternoon had been spent getting pampered at a spa and then some heavy shopping. She had gotten presents for her parents and every single one of the Z fighters. The only presents left for her to get was for her children and Vegeta, and the latter she was debating on not getting him anything at all. Not that he'd care either way. Carrying twenty plus bags was physically demanding, and Bulma dreaded the walk from the living room to her bedroom.

Halfway up the stairs and Bulma had to stop again, giving her arms a rest. For some reason she was feeling incredibly drained and tired, and irritated as all hell too. There were times when she was envious of her children's Saiyan genes, and she found herself once again cursing her human weakness. She was also just tired of her life lately. Her kids were wonderful of course, but between Vegeta and her work she was just feeling unfulfilled and extremely tired of everything. She went to pick up the bags again, but rustling to her right caught her attention as she jumped slightly at the sight of her husband. Vegeta picked up most of the bags without looking at Bulma, leaving the lightest two behind for Bulma to carry. She watched him head up the stairs and with a tired sigh she picked up her two bags and followed him to their bedroom, setting the bags down with the rest of them near the closet. The two stood in silence for a minute before Bulma fidgeted.

"I shouldn't have messed with the Gravity Room like that. I have the rest of my shopping to do tomorrow, but it won't take long. So, I'll fix it as soon as I get home," she told him, taking note of his tense posture and his unwillingness to look at her. She figured he was extremely pissed and didn't feel like arguing tonight. Taking off her jacket and her shoes, she grabbed her pajamas and headed into the bathroom to change. Stepping out of the dress she'd worn that day and pulling on her pajamas, Bulma decided the best course of action was to just go straight to bed without arguing. She had taken off her make up and was halfway through brushing her teeth before she realized she was crying. Rinsing her mouth out and placing the toothbrush away, Bulma placed her hands on the sink and squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. It hated crying and it always made her feel stupid and embarrassed.

She hadn't even heard Vegeta come into the bathroom, but she was suddenly turned around and pulled into his arms. Her body, as always, fit against his like a puzzle piece and she couldn't resist wrapping her arms around his waist and hiding her face in the Saiyan's chest. Vegeta didn't say anything; he didn't need to. His actions had always spoken for him and his character when his words couldn't, and tonight wasn't any different. The prince placed soft kisses over Bulma's shoulder and neck, wrapping her in an iron grip. The couple stayed like that for several minutes before Bulma sniffed and wiped away the last of her tears. Her frustration wasn't about the shopping. It wasn't even about Vegeta himself, but rather the bond between the two.

"Seven years ago you were taken from me and I felt like I was slowly going insane and dying," she whispered, refusing to meet his gaze but instead hid her face in the crook of his neck. "You sacrificed your life for me and for Trunks and I hated myself for it. Afterwards, when everything was over and you were here again, I promised myself that I would never let anything hinder or break the way that I thought of you, and that I felt for you. Seven years later and I feel like you and I are worlds apart, and I don't have anyone to blame but myself."

Vegeta's heart hammered inside of his chest, his arms moving to Bulma's waist to lift her off of the ground as her legs went around his waist. Silently he returned into the bedroom, crawling onto the bed and gently laying Bulma down and laying half on top of her. He pulled her into a tight embrace and captured her lips with his own, kissing her fervently and frantically.

"Du en mise cha toir kwon-sum ar cheann saol, ashayam," Vegeta whispered against her lips. Bulma intertwined her body with Vegeta's and kissed the hollow of his throat, letting out a tired sigh and letting her head rest against his arm.

"I know. It just doesn't feel like that sometimes and I don't like it. But I suppose it's a human thing, to feel like this every once in a while," Bulma explained, her hands tracing the scars on the prince's back. "Don't worry about the shopping thing, it really isn't that big of a deal."

Vegeta stared at her for a moment before laying his head down to sleep, still clutching her body to his. The couple laid in silence for a while, content in each other's company. And then his conversation with Trunks from earlier popped into his head and he scowled. "I'm not sure if it's a good thing that Trunks is so much like us or not."

Bulma laughed and looked up at her husband, figuring that Vegeta would find out the part their son played earlier that day. "Yeah, he's definitely trouble," she agreed. Vegeta grunted in agreement, still annoyed at the boy.

The next morning Bulma woke up and got ready for the day, pulling on her jacket and shoes and heading for the door. Vegeta was gone when she woke up, and she figured he'd be eating right about now. She definitely felt a lot better, but she had some serious thinking to do about the way their relationship was, because right now she didn't like it. Vegeta had the ability to show how much he cared about her, but it was only when she was in distress and acting the way she was last night, and that wasn't good. She had to find a way to close this gap with him, and she had to do it soon. She just wished that her faith in them would be rewarded more often. So wrapped up in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the man in question leaning against the wall next to the front door dressed in jeans, a shirt, shoes, and a jacket.

"Vegeta?" she asked, offering a questioning gaze. Vegeta pushed off of the wall and opened the door, motioning for Bulma to lead the way.

"You said you still had some stuff to get today, didn't you?" he asked, sincerely hoping that she wouldn't make a big deal out of this. She stared at him with wide eyes for a long time, and Vegeta fidgeted under gaze and looked away, warmth creeping up onto his cheeks.

"You're so cute when you blush," she said softly, a big smile slowly gracing her face.

Vegeta pouted. "I am not cute." Bulma grinned in response and left the house, grabbing onto Vegeta's shirt and tugging him along towards the car.

Saiyan Terminology: Alright, so there is no actual Saiyan dictionary. In the series their language is printed as circles and triangles with lines through them and little dots below or above them. You also never really hear it spoken, because everyone speaks the 'universal' language (which is apparently English). That being said, there are several theories as to how the Saiyan language should be spoken and how it should sound. Most people think that it should be a mix between Latin and Klingon (anybody who knows what Star Trek is should know what a Klingon is and how they sound but for those that don't, Klingon sounds like extreme German. Meaning if you listen to someone speaking German, up the harshness by two and that's the Klingon language).

I, however, think it's a little different. As I said, the language is never spoken in the series, but it's highly improbable that Vegeta doesn't know his home language and I would assume that he would eventually share this knowledge with Bulma and eventually they would speak it to each other. So I basically made my own version of the language for the set of series I have for my Ryuukatsu Project (my rewrite of the entire series) since it delves into Saiyan history and what not. Like I said, I didn't like Klingon and strict Latin, but I did believe that the Saiyan language was a bit harsh sounding but in a fluid way rather than the broken way of Klingon, if that makes sense.

So it's basically a jumble of Latin, Vulcan (another Star Trek reference), and Gaelic. I've spent years putting together the language (because I have no life) and it's set up in a way that sentences aren't meant to be translated word by word, but rather the meaning of the sentence as a whole.

Du en mise cha toir kwon-sum ar cheann saol, ashayam: This sentence basically translates to You and I will always be of one life/bond, beloved/mate.