CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Author's Note; This chapter is dedicated to Unlisshed for reviewing nearly every chapter. Your reviews always make me super-proud, so thank you very much and please, keep them coming!

If anyone has any questions about me or the story that they'd like me to answer, then please, ask away, and I will reply to you with the next chapter. :)

Bulma clutched her chest in fear, her other hand gripping on tightly to the young Trunks who was cradled in her arms as she stared at the television screen. Things had gone from bad to worse, with the monster Cell announcing to the world that he was holding a martial arts tournament in an obvious bid to fight the earth's strongest warriors one by one. She was distracted from her thoughts as she saw Vegeta move from the corner of her eye.

"What are you doing Vegeta?"

After pulling the yellow sweater over his head, the Saiyan prince turned, his face determined as he looked at the aqua-haired woman.

"Hear me out. I don't care about the people of Earth, but I promise I will destroy Cell."

"I'll go with you."

The older incarnation of Trunks ran past her after his father, who turned around to give him a look of pure annoyance. Bulma felt her son's pain, she could see plainly that the boy only wanted to spend time with Vegeta, and receive his praise, but unfortunately that wasn't bound to happen soon. She held up a hand to the lavender-haired warrior.

"Wait – let me cut your hair before you go. It might get in the way."

Trunks turned to face his mother, a warm and gracious smile on his face.

"Thank you."

+-+

Bulma set the baby Trunks down in the crib that occupied his room, she could tell he was tired, he had been close to nodding off to sleep in her arms earlier. She turned to the older Trunks, indicating for him to follow her into the bathroom, where she pulled up a stool and motioned for him to sit down, as she opened up one of the drawers and retrieved a pair of scissors and a comb.

As she pulled Trunks' lavender hair out of it's band, letting it flow loosely on his shoulders, she couldn't help but smile at him in the mirror. "So, I'm guessing this must be weird for you." she spoke, combing his hair gently. Trunks looked at her in the mirror, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "Well, I'm your mother, and yet I'm not. Surely that's got to be confusing."

Trunks gave a soft chuckle. "I have to admit that it is a little strange, but it's also very comforting. I'm in a different time, but at least I have someone that I know. Well, sort of. It's nice to have a little bit of home here." he explained, and Bulma patted his shoulder affectionately. "It is nice." she agreed. "And it's also very good to see what a handsome young man that my son will become. I'd spent so much time worrying that he - uh, you - would turn out like Vegeta."

Trunks frowned, and Bulma mentally slapped herself. Of course Trunks must have held him in high regard, but that mostly because he didn't know him as well as she did. He was unaware of the emotional turmoil his father had caused her in the past two years, the way he had constantly ignored his younger self, and abandoned them both when they needed him the most.

"Are you alright with me calling you Mom?" Trunks asked Bulma, looking down at his hands. She simply smiled at him in the mirror, a warm flush creeping onto her cheeks. Trunks was not quite old enough to speak proper words yet, and so she hadn't been referred to as 'Mom' yet. It was nice when the older Trunks called her that, she liked it more than she could say. "Of course. After all, I am your mother." she replied, giving him a wink that caused him to blush before he returned her grin.

Silence fell between the two as Bulma finished combing through Trunks' hair, figuring out at what to length to cut it. "Can I ask you something?" Trunks spoke up, watching his mother intently in the mirror as she began cutting the ends of his hair. "Of course." she replied absent-mindedly, obviously focusing on the task before her. "Do you love my father?"

The scissors slipped out of Bulma's hand and fell to the ground, clanging on the tiled floor. She looked at her son in the mirror, his blue eyes looking into her own. She could see so much of herself in his features, and yet also much of Vegeta. Her eyes fell to the floor, focusing on the dropped scissors that lay before her feet. "Yes." she admitted, amazed by her own answer.

She knew that she had feelings for Vegeta, they were present every time that she looked at him, persistent and strong. But it had been his absence that had alerted Bulma to her true feelings, without Vegeta she didn't feel like herself. She missed the verbal spars, the way he smirked when she yelled at him, the look of loneliness that crossed his face when he thought he was alone. Despite everything he had put her through, there was still a part of him that seemed to lay dormant, a part that could actually have feelings and emotions. She was sure of it.

Trunks smiled at her, and she returned a half-hearted one in return, before bending over to pick of the scissors and continue the hair-cut. "Is that it?" she asked him, snipping away as lavender strands floated to the floor. "Yes. Thank you." he replied, bowing his head down slightly.

Outside of the bathroom, Vegeta leaned against the wall, frozen in shock. He had heard the conversation between mother and son, surprised by what had been said, especially her answer to the boy's question. Love was not an emotion he knew much about, it was a legend on his home-planet, and almost unheard of.

But the woman loved him, he had heard her admit this truth, and it made him question his own feelings for her, no matter how hard he had tried to expel them. When he saw her, they were always there, nagging at his mind and poisoning his thoughts. When he was away, as hard as he tried to focus upon other things, his mind would always trail off to the female, the perfume of her scent, the glint that accompanied her bright blue eyes.

The year he had spent with Trunks in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber had been harder than he had thought possible, being trapped with a constant reminder of the woman in the form of his adult son. Every time Trunks looked at his father, Vegeta could see her eyes staring back at him, and it was harder and harder to concentrate on his training. He had distanced himself from Trunks in a bid to get his focus under control, and it had worked to an extent.

But now was not the time to question such things, or even think about them. Vegeta had to concentrate on Cell, and the training that was necessary to defeat him. Once that had been done, he would be able to figure out things with a clear mind.

He walked into the bathroom, turning up his nose at the two pairs of blue eyes that turned in his direction. "Father?" Trunks spoke, ruffling a hand through his hair as loose lavender strands fell out to the floor. "Hurry up. I cannot afford to lose time waiting for you to get your hair cut." Vegeta replied, trying not to look at the woman and stay detached from them both as much as possible.

Bulma gave the scissors one more snip, cutting off one last lock before analysing her work, running her hands through Trunks' hair to get the stray hairs out. "All done." she announced brightly, trying to ignore the fact that Vegeta was in the room. Trunks immediately stood up, inspecting himself in the mirror before turning towards his mother. "Thanks, Mom." he gave her a quick hug before dashing out of the room towards the guest room, leaving Vegeta and Bulma together.

As Bulma went over to the bathroom cupboard and pulled out a broom, she was surprised that Vegeta had lingered. He had already changed into a new battle-suit, one she had made days earlier, knowing that with the numerous battles that he would need quite a few. As she began to sweep up the lavender hair strewn on the tiles, she couldn't help but look up at Vegeta, who was watching her with mild curiosity.

Words failed her, Bulma was unsure of what to say to him. Should she try and strike up light conversation? Vegeta wasn't one for simple talk. Perhaps he remained in the room because he wanted something, but surely if that had been the case he would have said something by now. As she swept the lavender hair into a pile in the middle of the floor, Bulma's eyes turned back to the cupboard, where she was certain the dustpan had been stored, but she could not see it.

She turned around to see if it had been left on the counter, and was surprised to see Vegeta holding it out to her with one hand, a blank look on his face. "Thank you." she said softly, taking it from his hands, shivering slightly as her fingertips brushed the back of his white glove, wishing that his hands had instead been bare, so that she could have felt his warm, rough skin instead. Vegeta still said nothing, but continued to watch as she swept up the pile of hair into the dustpan and then proceeded to empty it into the bin, before putting it and the broom away in the cupboard.

Before she could turn around, she suddenly felt a warm presence close to her back, a familiar scent clouding her thoughts as she tried to control her emotions. Bulma wished she knew what was going on inside Vegeta's mind, one minute he was saying such hurtful things to her, and the next he was acting oddly and watching her intently. And now he stood behind her, so close and yet they were not touching. Bulma was too scared to even breathe, in fear that it could ruin the moment.

Her heart began to beat rapidly, and she tried to fight the growing urge to turn around and throw herself at him. Time seemed to slow down, and Vegeta had not moved nor said anything, but she could feel his hot breath on the nape of her neck, it was steady and deep. How long did he intend to keep standing behind her for? Was he planning on doing something else to her? Bulma had so many questions running through her mind, and yet she knew that she would not be able to ask him any of them.

Suddenly the warmth disappeared, and Vegeta left the room swiftly. Bulma's knees collapsed from under her and she fell to the floor, her breathing becoming ragged and hard. What on earth had just happened? Tears brimmed her eyes but Bulma wiped them away quickly, unsure how she was even feeling at the moment. As she slowly stood back at up, Trunks appeared in the doorway, wearing his own battle suit, a beaming smile on his face that faltered slightly as he looked at his mother.

"Mom, are... are you alright?" he asked her, holding out a hand as his brows furrowed with worry. Bulma waved him off. "I'm fine, just a little tired, I guess." she lied, before regaining her composure and smiling at her son. "Trunks, you look so handsome." she commented, and his cheeks instantly went red. "Thanks." he murmured in reply, before his face turned serious. "I guess Father wants us to leave now."

Bulma sighed. Vegeta was going to be leaving once again, off somewhere for Kami-knew how long. Although she would never admit it, she missed his presence, and seeing him today had been bitter-sweet. "Alright, well I guess I should see you guys off." she replied, leading her son to the outside of the house, where she was not surprised to find Vegeta waiting.

"Took you long enough." Vegeta commented, but Trunks and Bulma both ignored him, and instead turned to each other in a warm embrace. "You take care now, and get a lot stronger!" Bulma exclaimed, pinching his cheek with a big grin. "I promise I will." Trunks replied, a determined look crossing his face. He went to stand beside his father, and they both prepared to blast off into the sky.

"Wait, Vegeta!" Bulma called out, and as Trunks flew up into the clouds, to her surprise Vegeta stopped and turned around to look at her. "What?" he grunted, obviously looking annoyed. Bulma moved closer to him, but still managed to keep a safe distance. "Just... be safe, okay?" she said softly, and for a moment she swore she could see Vegeta's face soften. He away from her, and nodded slightly before taking off after Trunks, disappearing amongst the clouds.

Bulma stared after him, bewildered by what she had just witnessed.