It was late at night but she couldn't sleep. Today had been a terrible day, and she had to shamefully admit that it was in part her own actions that had made it such a gruesome day.
It had all started early in the morning when she had woken up to find that Vegeta was gone. The bastard had returned to capsule corp. after his space adventure, they had made love - she refused to call it anything else - he had shown her his transformation and then he had disappeared to the kitchen. He had claimed to be hungry, and Bulma had been too worn out to protest much, she'd fallen asleep before his ravenous Saiyan appetite was sated and when she awoke only a few hours later he had been gone.
She knew she shouldn't have expected anything different from him. She even knew that she shouldn't have given in like that and slept with him. But it had been so long, he had looked so good and the way he had touched her had given her hope. Fat load of good that did her now. Her temper flared just thinking about the fact that he had once again left and dismissed her like he had done after their first time.
Well, Vegeta was in for a surprise if he thought he could just dismiss her like that. She was Bulma Briefs and she was not going to sit on the sidelines. She never did. Fueled by determination and anger she got up. Damn them all, she was going to see the Androids! Over the course of the past 3 years, she had invested just as much, if not more blood and sweat, and she had a right to see the fruits of her labor pay off. Nobody was going to leave her behind.
It was that anger and determination that had lead her to pilot her jet into the eye of the storm. Looking back she couldn't believe she had been this foolish. At the same it stung, the incident had shown her that her days of wild adventures were over, she was a mother now, and she had placed her precious baby boy in actual danger. Her wild spirit would have to take a backseat for the safety of her son, she couldn't just storm to the front lines anymore, hoping that her friends would save her.
Vegeta hadn't saved her. Had not saved Trunks. He had proclaimed that he did not care about them, and she had been unable to tell if he was trying to convince himself or if he truly meant it. These instances had become rare, at least before he had left for space, usually, she had at least a slight idea of his inner workings, but today she had failed. This man was a mystery to her, a mystery that, today, had deeply hurt her.
His headache threatened to split his head in two and it was not the first time he cursed the gods of the universe for putting him in this situation. All things considered, he supposed it was better to be stuck for a year with his own offspring than with some third class clown. But the boy seemed to have had inherited Bulma's curiosity and chattiness - at least once in private. He simply asked too many damn questions.
What an utter disaster his life had become. One day he was meeting his infant son for the first time and roughly 48 hours later his was confronted with the grown version of said infant in absolute solitude. Once the identity of the strange teenager from the future had been revealed Vegeta could only watch helplessly as the chubby baby features from the previous night morphed into the young adult before him. The obvious evidence and truth smacking him dead in the face, almost mocking him with his previous inability to recognize his own offspring. Even a hardened warrior such as himself could only take so much. So Vegeta chose the path of the least resistance and simply ignored him for the time being. Not the best strategy given that they were set to spend a year together in this white void, but he was going to deal with it once his headache subsides. If it ever would.
It wouldn't.
In the course of the year, they spend in the time chamber the boy proofed to be as inquisitive as his mother. Asking questions upon questions, no matter Vegeta's churlish replies and attitude, and much like his mother, he often forced Vegeta to pause and consider. While Trunks facial features and build were a mirror image of himself the boy's curious nature in regard to him was all Bulma. He was interested - just like her - sincerely interested in the person he was, the techniques he used to fight, the opinions he had, and the very origins that had once destined him to be a great ruler.
Vegeta found himself answering the odd question here and there - if only to shut the boy up - often late at night, after hours upon hours of strenuous training and heaps of food.
Yes, he remembered Vegetasei. No, he was not going to tell him about it.
The Galick Gun technique had been taught to him by his father.
Vegetasei had many Gods. No, he did not believe in any of them. If he did not stop grinning like an imbecile for making him tell him something about Vegetasei after all he was going to murder him. And he wasn't going to be sorry.
Earth food was better than the food in space. Yes, Mrs. Briefs was absolutely wacky.
The woman was special becau - Shut the fuck up and sleep!
"No no no no no….dammit!" Bulma cursed loudly as the fabric of the blue suit ripped in two, mocking her intellect with the loud harsh sound of tearing apart.
She had been busy these past few hours, having absolutely engrossed herself in the task of producing new suit and armor for the Saiyans for the upcoming Cell games. Vegeta had barked at her that he was in dire need of new suits and armor just before he disappeared into the time chamber with their son, and Bulma would have told him just where to shove it if it had not been for the looming new threat.
Cell was disgusting and downright creepy. She was suddenly more than okay with sitting on the sidelines and assisting behind the scenes. No way she was going anywhere near this monster. Since the Z gang needed any advantage they could get she had accepted and resigned herself to the task of creating suit and armor for them. Goku's bright Gi might have been comfortable but they needed more protection.
Once Bulma had gotten started on the task she had become obsessed with trying to improve the overall stretch and protectiveness of the fabric. The concept was simple, the fabric would remain soft and stretchy under normal conditions, but if impacted with heat or force the fibers would interlock and stiffen, thus forming an additional protective layer other than the armor. Unfortunately, it was all easier said than done and her first few preliminary test runs had not turned out as promising as she'd hoped. It was not the theory, it was the fabric, she was sure of it, but limited by the resources available to her on earth.
She was Bulma Briefs, not the PTO with an unfathomable number of planets and their inventions at her exposal. Grinding her teeth in determination she reset the composition calculations for the material and set up to try again. She was set on amazing everybody by having these babies ready before her future son and ever grump baby daddy got out of the hyperbolic time chamber.
He had no idea why, but he waited. Not patiently, no he paced his room like a caged animal while watching the time dwindle by on the small alarm clock on his bedside table. Why the boy needed a haircut before he resumed his training was beyond him. Gods of Vegetasei be damned, if he was being honest it was even beyond him how he ended up with such a ridiculous hair color. Purple, or Lavender how the woman liked to call it, no self-respecting Saiyan had light hair. His genetics should have won the fight of superiority, just like they had in Kakarot's spawn. Even that low class good for nothing imbecile had a son that looked more like a true Saiyan than his own brat did. The royal line reduced to a half-breed with purple hair. How the mighty have fallen.
For a short moment, Vegeta was not sure if he should include himself in that statement. His super Saiyan transformation had been utterly useless against the androids - beaten by a woman as frail looking as a stick - and then he had lost the upper hand in the fight against cell when he had let him achieve his final form.
The Cell games. That's what they were all here waiting, for now, they had been glued to the TV waiting for the announcement from the freak of nature himself. It didn't matter though, they still had a few days and with the room of spirit and time on their side, he was sure he was going to win this time. He was finally - finally - going to prove that he was the strongest of them all. That he was the more battle hardened warrior, and most importantly - that he was deserving of being the Prince of all Saiyans.
Said Prince of all Saiyans was currently waiting in his bedroom for the future version of his son to be given a haircut by his mother. It was not even the most absurd thing that had happened to him within the last few days. How the mighty have fallen indeed, Vegeta has suppressed a shudder at re-visiting this realization. Surely his father was gravely disappointed by him and rolling in his grave for all eternity upon learning what his son had done with his new-found freedom so far. Developed an obsession for a feeble alien woman, fathered a half-breed, repeatedly beaten by a third class nothing and now fighting along earthlings to defend the future of this mudball.
A soft knock on the door shook Vegeta out of his thoughts. Before he could fully acknowledge the person behind the door and command them to leave him the heck alone Bulma appeared in the doorway. Insufferable wench never learned when to just leave him be. She gave him a soft smile before informing him that Trunks was outside in the yard and ready to go. Apparently, their little bonding session about humans genes and the detestable hair-growth that came with it was over.
Bulma already had turned to leave, doorknob in hand, but she paused and cast him a thoughtful glance over her shoulder. Gods, she was gorgeous. Not again!
"Trunks is pretty great Vegeta. Any version of him. He deserves to be given a chance" her voice was soft and honest. Maybe even sad? What in Dendes name did the woman have to be sad about Vegeta wondered? It was none of her business how he treated someone that should have never existed, someone that disgraced his Royal heritage.
"Kinda like you" she added after a few moments of tense silence.
"Like me?" He heard his own voice echo foolishly. Yes, perhaps she was right. If Frieza would have gotten his way he would no longer exist, and given his long list of offenses, maybe the Royal line currently wasn't so proud of his existence either. But that was none of her business, how dare she assume something like that! He would show her w-
"Yes, pretty great. And deserving of a chance" She smiled, and the door clicked shut behind her. Leaving a stunned Vegeta in the silence of his own bedroom.
I am sorry it took me so long to update guys. If any of you follow me on Tumblr you already know i had extreme writers block and a lot of adult responsibilities - i was pretty busy. This story is almost over and I have already begun writing the Epilogue, so the wait should not be very long for a new chapter. I'm currently working on an AU idea for a new story - but that is all still up in the air.
I wrote another one-shot (Midnight Treat) if you have not read it yet, please feel free to check it out.
As always, please read and review! Your reviews always make my day :)