CHAPTER 14

Bulma folded her hands and, elbows on the table, perched her chin on top of her crossed fingers. Trunks sat in the chair across from her and tried to compose himself as best he could, but he could not deny that the gleam in his mother's eyes was more than a little disconcerting.

"Well?" she pried, clearly trying to subdue her excitement.

"Well, what?" Trunks countered sheepishly.

"Well…SAY SOMETHING! Goodness, Trunks, just tell me how on earth you two finally found each other!"

"How we…what?" he fumbled over his words a bit before letting out a sigh. "Listen, Mom, I know you're waiting for me to say something…say something…romantic…or, you know…something like that. But I really can't explain it that way. I mean, all of the sudden, it sort of…it sort of hit me like a ton of bricks that she was there. And that she'd been there all along."

Bulma smiled sweetly at her son. "I was afraid that you were going to go through a million Louisas before you figured it out, you know?"

"Mom, I can promise you that I haven't 'figured out' anything," he admitted, relaxing slightly. If his mother already knew about Ada and him, he reasoned that he may as well take her in as his confidante. After all, she had never misled him before. "I mean, Ada keeps trying to convince me that this isn't the time for…for whatever it is that's going on between us, and the smarter half of me knows she's right…"

"But the human half of you doesn't want to wait – because who knows when or if anything substantial will materialize later on, considering the circumstances," Bulma stated simply.

Trunks blinked a few times at his mother before finally replying. "How did you–"

"Because I've been there, kid. And the human half won out. And here you are."

The comparison Bulma was drawing was at best, eerie; at worst, horrifying. Trunks wanted to shout at his mother to stop while she was ahead, to tell her that her logic was faulty, to demonstrate that he wasn't gambling with his fate by being with Ada…if he was indeed 'with' Ada. The correct definitions of such terminology were embarrassingly foreign to him.

Realizing her son's change in demeanor, Bulma shifted the direction of the conversation. "I know that talking to me about this probably makes you uncomfortable. I mean, you are a grown man now. But it's important to me…you're my son, and Ada's…well, I would say 'like my daughter,' but that would make this whole thing between you two seem a little freaky," she laughed. Trunks' face contorted in terror.

"You know, I really think I should get some sleep–"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry – that was awkward," Bulma conceded. "What I wanted to say was that…I know Ada, and I don't expect her to be careless with your heart. So I'm warning you not to be careless with hers."

"Mom, you know that I would never–"

"Hey, I'm still talking, bud!" Bulma snapped back. "As I was saying: Just…take things slowly…be careful…you're a smart kid. Go with your gut. You'll figure it out."

While appreciative of his mother's heartfelt advice, Trunks could not keep his cheeks from growing red when he admitted to himself how childish he felt. 'Be careful.' What was that even supposed to mean? And 'going with his gut' seemed like a rather rambunctious way to handle a relationship. Wait…was it even a 'relationship'? Well, of course it was a relationship, but was it a 'relationship'…?

"And," Bulma finished, holding up her hand as though taking an oath, "I solemnly swear that I won't pry anymore."

"And that you won't breathe a word about all this to Chi Chi," Trunks added firmly.

"Oh. But why not?"

Trunks looked at her incredulously. "You shouldn't even need to ask that question."

"True. Alright, then. Not a word," Bulma replied, sipping her cup of tea.

Trunks breathed a sigh of relief – more at having made it through the interrogation than having gotten his mother's word about keeping everything a secret – and tiredly stood from the kitchen chair. "If you've finished…"

"Yeah, yeah – go to bed," she batted him off playfully with her hand. "Get some sleep, alright?"

"Sure thing," he replied wearily as he started down the hall.

"Oh, and Trunks!" he heard her call from behind him. Rubbing his temple, he answered.

"Yeah?"

"Just a word of advice from someone who's had some real experience: a good rule of thumb for people who are new to this is to wait at least a few weeks before you make a grab at her boobs."

"Mom, a-are you serious?" he sputtered, that familiar look of horror again painting his features. Bulma merely winked at him.

"I'm just trying to help you out, alright?" she teased. "Now go to bed."

Trunks turned on his heel, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him as quickly as possible. As he undressed, Bulma's bit of 'advice' ran through his head more times than he could count despite his wanting nothing more than for the words to disappear from his memory forever. He was a grown man, he thought, the blush on his face refusing to fade even under the chill of the shower water, and his mother was giving him unsolicited advice on proper methods of…of 'making out'. Trunks braced himself against the wall, his hands splayed out and his head hanging beneath the showerhead, water cascading down his back and through his hair.

He could not help but wonder, yet again, what he was thinking even dabbling in a relationship. Of course, belittling anything connected with Ada only made him angrier with himself. It frightened Trunks that he was already mentally defending her against his own reservations and doubts, particularly after reassuring her just hours before.

Inexplicably, the next time that Trunks bothered to consider his surroundings, he was lying in bed. He had gone through the motions of showering, drying off, brushing his teeth, rifling around in his dresser for a clean pair of boxers, and slipping under his comforter, an endless stream of thoughts churning through his mind and troubling him to the point of making him completely unaware of his nighttime rituals.

Trunks managed, eventually, to sleep. He then found peace, for in his dreams, she was there.

xxx

"Should we loosen up a bit first?" Ada asked, quickly redoing her braid lest her hair fall about her eyes as they sparred. She was more awake than usual; she hadn't yawned, she reckoned, since she'd gotten out of bed a half hour earlier. Perhaps she was adjusting to waking up early. Perhaps she was simply…content.

More than content, Ada thought as she saw the first glimpses of sunlight creep through the trees. She surveyed her sparring partner and smiled.

"At least a little. It's chillier this morning, anyway. Best to get the blood pumping," he responded as he pulled his sweatshirt backwards over his head and tossed it to the dewy ground.

"I like that look on you," Ada teased, winking at him. In the privacy of her own mind, she allowed herself a more serious appreciation of Trunks, his bare arms, and his rippling muscles.

"Thanks." Trunks smiled back at her before beginning his stretches. Ada followed his lead, relishing the feeling of the tightness slowly seeping out of her body.

"Any ideas on how we should go about doing this?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. "Anything in particular you want to work on?"

"Well," Trunks considered, "I guess we can see what sorts of things come up as we spar. How about you? As far as things to work on, I mean."

"This isn't about me," she replied gently. "Remember?"

Trunks' face fell slightly, and, for the first time in days, he felt the paralyzing weight of his responsibility begin to creep across his shoulders. "Right," he affirmed at length before shrugging repeatedly in an attempt to rid himself of the invisible burden.

After stretching for a short while, Trunks folded his arms across his chest and approached his partner.

"That enough for you?"

Ada, bent backward, back arched and stomach stretched into the air, slowly lifted herself into a standing position.

"I think so," she answered simply. She paused, blinked, and stared at him for only a moment.

At which point Ada swiftly buoyed herself into the air and delivered a roundhouse kick directly to Trunks' right hipbone. His body urged him to fall to his knees, to pull itself from harm's way.

He did not. Instead, after a brief flinch, Trunks rebounded, landing a punch into Ada's stomach. Her eyes widened in shock at his quick recovery from her blow, and, the air knocked out of her, she froze. Trunks smirked triumphantly before moving to connect his foot with her neck before suddenly stopping. He blinked at Ada, now recovering after a little over a second, and felt his own stomach turn. All of the bloodlust that had begun building up inside of him disappeared in that instant, and guilt crept in to replace it

He was treating her like an opponent.

Of course, that was the point of sparring, but the knowledge that he had just caused Ada pain nauseated him. She was his–

Trunks felt his face burn as Ada employed the exact same move that he had been planning to use on her. Falling to the ground, he clutched his cheek in misery. All of his defenses had been down. Ada, operating as a true warrior ought to, had taken the opening. Trunks squeezed his eyes shut, realizing that he only needed to throw his elbow backwards to disable her. Yet, once again, he could not. He merely waited for her to strike another blow.

But she didn't.

"What are you doing?" Ada's voice demanded from directly behind him.

Trunks blinked and, recovering, stood. Still wincing, he turned to face her. "What do you mean?"

"You had a perfect opening. You could have taken me down right there. Why didn't you?" she inquired with a suspicious frown.

"I was just a little – a little shaken up. I didn't expect you to come at me that quickly," he replied.

"You're going to do this again, aren't you?" Ada sighed in frustration.

"Do what?"

"Lie about not wanting to hit a girl." It angered Trunks a little that she was trying to make the issue sound childish.

"It isn't just that–"

"But that's part of it?"

"Of course that's part of it!" Trunks said rather more loudly than he meant to.

Ada's expression softened. "Well…I suppose we're just going to have to work through that. I don't blame you for it or anything…I mean, it's sweet…" She took a step toward him, bringing them face to face. "But we should try to fix it or you won't make any progress."

"I don't suppose you've got any ideas?" he asked as Ada gently touched the spot on his cheek where her foot had landed.

"Not anything groundbreaking, no," Ada admitted, kissing the place where her hand had been a moment before. "But it might help if you mentally separated training from the rest of your life."

"How do you mean?" Heat trickled into his cheeks at the feeling of her breath on his face.

"Treat me like your opponent while we're sparring. And the rest of the time…just treat me like I'm yours."

Author's Note: Guess whose laptop suddenly fell ill when she was halfway done with this chapter? I know, I know; excuses abound. I really am doing my best, though, especially with school having started again. I'm sticking with this, though, so don't worry. It just might progress a bit more slowly than I had planned. That being the case, I'll probably post shorter chapters for the rest of the semester so that I can update more often. As always, your reviews and support are absolutely wonderful – they keep me going, friends! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Another thing – as I take Ada and Trunks through the next year before Trunks leaves for the future again, what would you like to see? What do you want to know about them? What seems unclear? I would love to hear anything and everything that you have to say!