A/N: Guess who's back!

Everybody Loves Vegeta, Too!

Part Three

Bulma Briefs never experienced a migraine like the one that bloomed inside her skull that afternoon. Sighing dramatically, she pulled her Maserati convertible up to the curb outside the county jail. Muscle memory dragged her hand from her lap to the glove compartment, searching for the good ol' pill bottle. Once discovered, she popped two ibuprofen down her throat and grimaced at the taste. Her ex and her childhood friend would show up soon enough. She knew this would be a long day filled with a lot of bullshit.

At the sound of sobbing, she whipped her head around to find the source. Goku and Vegeta walked side-by-side outside the lobby of the county jail entrance. Tears streamed down Goku's pale cheeks. Vegeta scowled, readjusting the…cat hat on his head. What the hell? Bulma thought. Goku's lips curled into a frown as he flung open her car door. Predictably, Vegeta didn't bother with the door and hopped into the front seat next to Bulma. She tilted her head at him, miffed he wouldn't even pretend to console Goku.

"You two sure know how to run me through the wringer," Bulma said. She put the car in drive and soon enough they sailed down the highway. "I'll have to say, I never knew you two were so adventurous." She winked at Vegeta, whose face flushed. "You'll have to show me what you did sometime, huh?"

"Ugh, as if!"

"What, perfect strangers get to see two guys go at it but I don't get the same luxury?"

Shy, Vegeta ran his index finger along the leather car door interior. "Hmph. I just had to teach some idiots at the supermarket a lesson."

Goku wailed from the back seat. "I knew it was a horrible idea! They didn't feed us at all in that jail place!"

Vegeta grinned. "I fed you well enough while we were in there."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Stop being a pervert for one second and look in the glove compartment. I got a present for ya."

Curious, Vegeta opened the compartment. Stuffed inside sat two hats: one a simple black knit cap, the other…

"A fedora? Really, Bulma? Do you take me to be some kind of jackass?"

"Hey, don't knock the fedora. It's a hat for distinguished men, right?"

"You don't know anything." He tossed the kitty cat over his shoulder into the backseat with Goku. In vain he tried to pull the black knit cap over his shiny dome without much fanfare, but Bulma was snickering before he could finish.

She pointed at him like a kindergartner. "Oh my God! Ahaha! I thought the widow's peak was bad enough, but this is priceless!"

"I liked the kitty hat," Goku mumbled from the backseat.

PWEP! PWEP! The squeal of police sirens irritated Bulma's ears. FUCK! Are you serious? Right after we left the jail?!

Her freshly-painted nails cracked as she dug her fingers deep into the steering wheel. She pulled over to the shoulder of the highway. She turned to her side and screamed, "No funny business, you idiots!"

Vegeta and Goku's eyes widened. They both nodded in agreement.

In the rear view mirror she eyed the policeman as he parked his motorcycle a few yards behind her car. He strode toward the driver's seat. Already he was busy writing a ticket! Goddammit!

"Ma'am, you were driving pretty fast back there…"

"Krillin!" Bulma smiled at the cop. Krillin lifted his head up and stared into Bulma's brilliant smile.

"Oh, hey Bulma!" He chuckled. "What a coincidence!"

"Yeah, pretty wild, huh!" She took her hands off the steering wheel and relaxed into the driver's seat. Krillin's badge and uniform weren't as menacing as a few seconds ago. Thank Kami the cop was a friend!

"So anyway," Krillin said, printing the ticket from his digital notepad, "If you go to traffic school you can probably get the point taken off your driving record."

"…What?" Bulma's maw hung open. "Are you serious right now?"

Krillin, crooked smile still plastered on his face, shoved the ticket into her palm. "Of course I am!"

"Oh, I get it." Bulma lowered her eyelids and smiled. She knew it was a good idea to wear her halter top today. Krillin's eyes trailed her fingertips as they rose to the top of her blouse. She pulled down on the fabric.

"Hey! NO!" Krillin slapped her hand. "Bad Bulma! I don't take bribes!"

"Are you fucking serious right now!" She smashed her fist into the car horn. Krillin jumped in the air in fright. "You can't give me a ticket!"

"Hey baldie," Vegeta volunteered from the passenger seat, "Stop wasting our time."

Krillin's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I'm sorry guys, but you're not above the law!"

Searing pain shot through Bulma's skull. Sixteen again, she smashed her right palm into the car horn over and over as if it would sway Krillin's favor. "Goddammit, Krillin! I could buy your whole life if I wanted to!"

"Then paying the ticket shouldn't be a problem!" Veins popped out of Krillin's shiny head.

"That's—" she smashed the car horn, "not—" she rose her middle finger, "the point!"

Vegeta threw his hands into the air. "This is ridiculous! You're not going to give my Bulma a ticket. Take it back, or I'm getting out of this hunk of scrap metal and kicking your ass!"

A strange, but familiar twinge rose in Bulma's chest. Was Vegeta getting all riled up…on her behalf? When was the last time that happened?

Krillin, absolutely pissed, looked to the backseat for Goku's help in the situation. "Goku, can you believe these two?"

Bulma craned her neck to see the younger Saiyan staring into his lap. He mumbled something before drawing his attention away from the clamor. He stared at the line of drivers rubber-necking the display from the highway.

"Forget it, guys!" Krillin said in a huff, "you're keeping the ticket." With that, he walked away from the vehicle.

Vegeta bucked in his seat like a wild cat. His ki spiked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. The metal slapped against the car door hard enough to make a nasty dent. "How about I teach that cretin about real authority!"

"Vegeta…don't." Bulma and Vegeta turned to look at Goku. His thousand-yard stare made Bulma's stomach plummet. "Krillin's my best friend. And it's just a ticket."

Vegeta tightened his fists. Bulma's own anger subsided to be replaced with panic. She knew her ex was too obtuse to notice Goku's unusually quiet voice.

Bulma jolted when a heavy palm covered her own. She heard Vegeta say, "Fine then. Let's just go so I can get out of this gods-forsaken car."

Bulma dropped the duo back off at Goku's house in the boonies. She pulled up to the Son home and shooed them both out of her car. "Sorry for the rush boys, but I've got to make sure Trunks is at home. Someone needs to get on his case about applying to university."

"Wait! What about…" Vegeta pointed at his head.

"Oof, I forgot about that little problem. I'll have to give you a rain check on finding a cure for that. Maybe come over tomorrow and I can take a look?"

"Hn." Vegeta clamored out of the car along with Goku. "Sure. Thanks for your help."

Bulma nodded at them both, and sped off down the dirt road.

Dead silence sat between the two Saiyans. Vegeta found himself at a lost. He expected Goku to be yammering away at this point, seeing as it was dinnertime and they had no groceries. Now to think of it, Goku hadn't said a word during the whole car ride back home. Side-by-side they walked on the cobblestone path to the front door. Out of the corner of his eye Vegeta saw a frown set deep into his lover's face.

"Something must be wrong," he said with an icy jibe. "I've never seen you think so hard. Don't hurt yourself." Vegeta held his breath. He heard nothing in return. Goku didn't even look at him.

"Kakarot—?"

Goku fished the house keys from his jean pocket. A low grunt rumbled in his chest. Jingling keys and the sound of the keyhole's tumblers falling in place echoed in the night air. He shoved the door open.

The cloudy look on his face washed away the moment he set foot through the entrance. "Oh!"

Vegeta followed Goku's gaze to the couch. There Trunks sat with his boxers pooled around his ankles. His fingers were buried deep in Goten's scalp. Goten was sucking his son's cock with a level of tenacity Vegeta had never seen. He deep throated the whole thing happily, moaning every time it reached the back of his throat. His right hand slid up and down Trunk's cock in tandem with his mouth. Vegeta's eye twitched when upon closer inspection, he saw Goten's pants were nowhere to be found. The younger boy was naked from the waist down and jerking himself off.

Trunks snapped his neck around to stare at the front door. "DAD!"

Goten's eyes flew open. He stumbled away from the couch. A long sliver of spit dribbled from his mouth. "I'm sorry!" he blurted, the stupid apology the only thing that sounded appropriate in the situation. He looked down, shrieked, and pulled his shirt over his erection.

"The hell…" Vegeta said, trailing off. How could this happen right under his nose? How long had his son been fucking Kakarot's brat? Was he so stupid as to not notice anything up to this point?

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Vegeta!" Goten smashed his palms together and bowed dramatically; the tip of his nose pressed into his knees. "I, uh, I didn't mean it!"

Vegeta pointed a shaking finger outside the front door. "Go home."

In panic, Goten leapt for the front door. Vegeta smacked his hand against his forehead. "You live here, you simpleton! I was talking to Trunks!"

"Oh. Right!" Goten blushed and dragged himself to his bedroom upstairs. Trunks shuffled past his father out the front door without uttering a word. Vegeta kicked the door close and heaved all of his weight against it.

"Whoa," Goku said.

The tension in Vegeta's muscles washed away at finally hearing Goku speak. "Whoa is right."

Goku rubbed the back of his head. "So, uh, how about that."

"It's an absolute disaster," Vegeta groaned. He rubbed his thumbs against his temples to abate the oncoming migraine.

"Oh?"

Vegeta whipped his head to stare at Goku. "Don't tell me you thought that was normal!"

There it was again—that icy wall Goku built between Vegeta and himself during the car ride home. Goku sneered. The Prince wasn't used to seeing that look on his stupid boyfriend's face at all. "If they want to be together, I don't have a problem with it," Goku said.

"You're kidding!" Vegeta growled as Goku simply walked away. Vegeta stalked behind him into the kitchen. Goku picked up the phone from the receiver hanging on the wall. It was old enough to have a cord and individual glow-in-the-dark buttons for each number. Goku smashed his index finger deliberately into each button. Like punctuation marks to a furious litany only inside his head.

"Kakarot—we both know my son can't be with yours."

Goku uncharacteristically clicked his tongue. "What's wrong with my Goten?" He held the phone's receiver up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Why are you even using that phone? It hasn't worked since I got here."

Goku put the phone back on the receiver. "Shut-up, Vegeta!"

"Fine, I'll just call them!" Vegeta said. Goku crossed his arms and sighed a bit louder than necessary. The jackass must be upset I can read his mind. Of course I know he's thinking about shoving pizza down his gullet more than anything else right now.

"Sometimes, Vegeta…" But Goku was swiftly shushed by Vegeta. The Prince dialed a number and waited for someone to pick up on the other end.

"Hello, this is The Gaping Pie Hole! How may I help you?"

"I am in need of 20 pizzas." Goku made a face at him. "Thirty pizzas," Vegeta said, correcting himself.

"Sorry sir, we don't do catering after 5PM."

"That's preposterous. We've ordered well after 5PM in the past."

"Sorry sir, it's a new policy. Gaping Pie Hole merged with Winking Brown Donut Holes, so now we're under different rules."

Vegeta clenched the phone. "I want to speak with your manager."

"Vegeta." Goku had a far-off look in his eyes again. "Just stop."

"Uh, the manager went home for the night. But you can call back tomorrow morning and I'm sure she'd be happy to—"

"Just send me the goddamn pizzas! Do you want to make some money tonight or not?"

Goku threw his arms into the air. "It's hopeless with you, isn't it?" He stormed out of the kitchen in a huff. Vegeta raised his brows at the little tantrum.

Vegeta ended the call. "Don't tell me you're getting this pissy because you're hungry." He rounded the corner of the hall and trailed Goku into the bedroom. The taller Saiyan sat on the bed with his legs crossed and his back to the door. Moonlight washed over him and made his visage look oppressively…somber. Something—was it anger?—radiated off of Goku like heat waves.

"Kakarot?" The Price slid onto the duvet. He surprised himself by delicately placing his hand on Goku's shoulder.

Goku flinched from the touch as if burned. "I don't know if I can talk to you right now."

"You really are upset."

"In your heart, you think Goten isn't good enough for Trunks?"

So this is what Goku was so upset about. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but my son is a bit out of your brat's league."

Goku rounded on him. "But you're not out of my league?"

Vegeta blushed at that. "That's not—what I meant—"

"Vegeta, I—urgh!" To stop himself, Goku squeezed his arms tight to his chest.

What was the strange feeling invading Vegeta's senses? He'd rarely seen Goku like this. If the younger Saiyan was so upset he couldn't speak…

"Listen. Kakarot." That's right. He could fix this little mess if he just explained how he felt. "Trunks eventually needs someone who will be a good compliment to him and can bear his Saiyan children."

"Someone like Bulma."

Vegeta leaned back. The way Goku said it was so spiteful. "Do you have a problem with Bulma now?"

"What if I do?"

The Prince planted his fists on his hips. Goku wasn't even looking at him now! "I don't see what you're getting at."

Goku shifted his weight on the bed and faced Vegeta. His eyes brimmed with tears, but his brows furrowed with anger. "Today you called her your Bulma."

Vegeta snorted. "So?"

"You've never called me your—" Goku sobbed, quickly. He looked away. "And I saw from the backseat—how you looked at her."

A low chuckled burst from Vegeta. It was unwelcome in the conversation, but he had to show Goku how ridiculous he was being! "I'm not interested in her anymore, if that's what you mean."

"You held her hand."

"Huh?"

"After she got the ticket. You two held hands the whole way back home."

Vegeta blinked. "I don't—what—?" It sounded too stupid to be true. He thought back to the past few hours. He remembered yelling about the stupid bald man after the traffic stop, then laughing with Bulma. Sure, Goku was quiet at the time, but that's because Bulma and him were catching up on things and…

Oh. Guilt racked Vegeta's conscience and his pulse quickened. He hadn't even thought about the physical contact when it happened. Sitting in the passenger's seat of Bulma's car felt just like old times. On their old drives the wind would slap their hair around while they both chattered away about dumb shit. And they would always link their fingers together over the gear shift. The gesture was natural in Vegeta's mind. He hadn't ridden in a car with the woman in ages, so it was just a habit to hold her hand again. Right?

His face must have betrayed his thoughts. Goku was crying.

"I…Kakarot, you know that I…" His tongue sat like lead in his mouth. He wanted to call Goku stupid for crying over some hand-holding. It's not like he banged Bulma behind the man's back, or even thought about it! But by the look on Goku's face, everything was much more complicated than a simple grasp of two hands.

"Do you still love me, Vegeta?"

Vegeta stayed silent.

Goku pulled himself closer. "Just tell me you love me."

Vegeta clenched his shaking fists together. "I…"

"Are you going to make me beg!" Goku barked.

Vegeta fell backwards on the bed. The spike in Goku's energy frightened him beyond fear for his physical safety. He wished this moment were just a spar. Hell, he wished instead they were trying to kill each other. At least he'd have a strategy for that. But right now, that old wound between them Vegeta constantly nursed with his own brand of kindness was splitting open. And it was too late for damage control.

He settled on saying, "I care about you. A lot."

Goku's hair wavered in the silent room. Vegeta feared it would flicker gold. "I want you to leave."

"What?"

"I want you to get your things," Goku enunciated, "and I want you to get out."

Vegeta babbled incoherently for a brief moment, then pulled himself away from the bed. He stopped at the dresser and hovered his hands in front the top drawer. He shook his head to awaken from his trance. Deciding to leave everything behind, he fled from the room.

Outside, the cold air grasped at his skin like a desperate ghoul fighting to enter his body. Chirping crickets were the only witnesses to his ascent into the sky.

Bulma schlepped to one of several kitchens in Capsule Corp. Inside of the refrigerator she found her treasure for the night. Mom hadn't sucked down the pitcher of sangria just yet. She pulled the glass container from the fridge. When she pushed the door shut, a dark figure jumped from behind her.

"Vegeta!" She fell backwards onto the fridge and used her free hand to steady herself. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Getting yourself a little nightcap, I see." Vegeta waltzed to the kitchen table and sat backwards in a chair.

"Oh shut-up." Bulma took a small glass from the kitchen counter and sat down at the table. She poured herself a glass of sangria. "I told you I would look into your little bald issue tomorrow."

"Kakarot kicked me out."

"What!" She choked on a piece of citrus in the drink. "Goku did that? You must have really screwed up."

"Yes. He saw us holding hands today." He scrunched his nose. "I can't wrap my head around it."

She blew out a puff of air. Shit. "Yeah, I could tell he was upset by that, but I guess I didn't want to believe he was…you know…smart enough to notice something like that. He's not the most observant person, so I'm actually really surprised."

Bulma could see Vegeta chewing on her last statement. By the way his nose twitched, he didn't like it. "I want you to know I'm not interested in you."

She held her hands up in defense. "Same goes for me, buddy. Now what are you going to do about it?"

"Me? This is half your fault, you know!" He pulled out the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.

"Very classy to smoke in the kitchen, Vegeta." She watched him roll his eyes and light a cigarette. "Anyway, I'm definitely going to apologize to Goku tomorrow. You should do the same."

"It all feel so childish." He took a drag and busied his free fingers with tapping a discordant beat on the table top. "I also think he's mad about me not saying those words."

"What words?"

"You know, those three words people tell each other when they…" He rolled his wrist around to emphasize his point.

"You've never told him you love him?!" Bulma leaned backwards in her chair and groaned. "That's not surprising to me, but poor Goku didn't know what he was getting into. He loves everyone, you know? It's different for him. At least now you know what you have to do."

"I need some of my dignity left, woman. I'm mushy enough as it is. Both of us can't just be giant, useless gelatinous balls of looove."

Bulma clicked her tongue. "You know what? I'm going to help you out. I know exactly how to fix this situation."

"Oh?" Vegeta's eyebrows quirked. She knew he hated her mischievous nature if he was to be involved in a scheme.

"Yep. Just leave it all to me tomorrow. All you have to do is follow my directions. Deal?"

Vegeta crushed his half-smoked cigarette into the table. "Will it involve me telling Kakarot how much I looove him and just want to squeeeze him to death? Because I refuse to get involved if you think me acting like a teenage girl is going to fix things."

She bit her lip. "Not exactly. But I'm an expert at this kind of thing. My little idea has worked on many of my boyfriends in the past."

"Oh? Now I'm curious as to what kind of sorcery you used over these men. Because I know you never used it on me."

"That's what you think." She refilled her sangria glass. "After my five little steps, I had you eating out of the palm of my hand!"

"Five?" Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "That is…" He rubbed his chin. "Five…curses…"

Bulma downed the last bit of sangria, and yawned. "I'm going to bed. Feel free to use the east guest room on the second floor." She watched him walk away from the table still mulling over whatever thought distracted him. "We've got some shoe polish in the bathroom if you need it for your head!"

"Fuck off!"