Vegeta:

"You what?"

Vegeta held the phone at arm's length away from him to muffle Kera's rant a little. When silence fell, he put the mobile back to his ear. "Are you done?" he asked, annoyed.

"I'm far from finished!" she started again and he was about to put distance between himself and the handset again when Kera cleared her throat. "But we don't have time for that now. You go to Bulma right now and apologise. Your behaviour was not okay!"

"But I didn't want to go all monkey!" he shouted back angrily, jumping up from the bed on the edge of which he had been sitting until just now.

"I understand," Kera said now, much more conciliatory. "It would have been too much for me too. We've had to present ourselves and bounce around at other people's whistles often enough. That you fled the situation is fine. What's not fine is that you left your mate and your son behind while you flew home alone." Her voice rose again.

Vegeta sighed. "Bulma understands."

"I'm sure she does. If you explain it to her. If you talk sense to her and apologise!"

He suppressed another sigh and dropped back onto the bed. With the thumb of his free hand he tapped his front teeth thoughtfully. A pause arose.

"Vegeta, please talk to her. We're going into space tomorrow with Kakarrot and you won't see your family for a few weeks. That won't be good if you don't sort it out first."

"All right. What do you want me to say?"

"That you're sorry. Explain to her how you felt."

"Warriors don't talk about feelings," he retorted, annoyed.

He heard a slapping sound and knew that Kera had just slammed her hand against her forehead in utter despair.

"I'm giving it up. It's your life. You better not be in a bad mood tomorrow when we get on that spaceship!" He heard a click. Kera had ended the call.

He let the phone slip from his hand and stretched out on the bed. Kera was right, as she often was, about what she said. He should apologise. He had known the night he had flown away from the amusement park that he had just done something wrong and that he would offend Bulma. But at that moment he didn't want to admit it to himself.

He had heard Trunks and Bulma come home a few hours later. Bulma had immediately taken her son to his room. He had probably been so tired that he had already slept on the flight home. Then he had heard Bulma go into her bedroom and cry.

Helpless, Vegeta had written a message to his sister and she had called him immediately, even though it was the middle of the night. He hadn't even asked her why she hadn't slept, he remembered.

Vegeta straightened up and listened for the sounds next door. Decidedly, he walked to the door, scurried down the dimly lit hallway and knocked softly on the bedroom door. Bulma did not answer. Slowly he opened the door and slipped into the room.

The lamp on the bedside cabinet by Bulma's side of the bed was lit, but otherwise the room was dark. She lay huddled on the mattress with her back to him and the covers pulled over her. Soft sobs broke the silence at irregular intervals.

Vegeta circled the bed and got down on his knees. Carefully, he stroked the blanket. "Bulma?"

The sobs under the covers died away. "Get out of here!"

Vegeta would have liked to jump up and run out of the room immediately, but Kera's words came back to him.

"Bulma, I'm sorry," he muttered.

Very slowly, Bulma pushed her head out from under the covers. "What did you just say?"

He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said then even more quietly than before.

Briskly, Bulma straightened up. "Were you talking to Kera?"

For a brief moment, Vegeta's features were not in control and his mouth dropped open. How did she know that?

"Because you've never apologised before," she replied, as if she had read his mind. "So surely you've spoken to Kera and she's told you what to do, right?"

Bulma's astuteness rattled him and he sat on the edge of the bed to stall for time.

"It wasn't right of me to just run away," he finally said.

"No, it wasn't," she replied simply.

Vegeta took a deep breath. That was an observation, he told himself, not an attack.

"I don't know if Kera ever told you that. We had to, back when Frieza ..." He swallowed. It was hard for him to talk about it. He didn't want to think about all those things anymore, but they still haunted him. Affected his actions and thoughts. Restricted him. Kera had talked to him about it and Vegeta knew that she had also confided in Piccolo. She was clearly coping better.

But what if Bulma thought he was weak? What if she didn't want to be around him then? His gaze flitted to her briefly. She looked at him, waiting. Patiently.

He swallowed. "Frieza often made us do things he wanted. Sometimes we had to make outright monkeys of ourselves just so he could prove he had a hold on us." He clenched his hands into fists and felt anger rising inside him.

A hand rested on his and he relaxed a little again. "You don't have to keep talking if it's too painful for you. I just want to understand you, why you say or do some things. I'm not sure sometimes ..." Now it was her turn to break off in mid-sentence and she leaned back again. Her hand slid down from his and quickly he reached out. Clasped her slender soft hand with his.

"What are you not sure about?"

"I'm not sure you want to be with me," she said softly.

Shocked, his eyes snapped open. How could she think that? Had he ever made her feel that he didn't desire her? Realisation slowly seeped into him. This was what Kera meant. That was what it meant when they didn't speak to each other, but took everything for granted.

"Of course I want to be with you. What makes you think I don't want you?"

"You don't show that you're happy or that you like being around me."

Her statement upset him even more and he searched for words. "I ... sorry about that. I'm not good at this," he finished his sentence somewhat lamely.

The corners of Bulma's mouth twitched briefly as if trying to suppress a smile and she leaned closer to him. "I know. I'm not asking you to be perfect."

This woman! Everyone had demanded him to be perfect. He was the Prince of Saiyans, the heir to the throne. He was never really allowed to be a child, had to act like an adult, do what his teachers and father demanded of him. And under Frieza, no emotions had been allowed either. Any hint of weakness had been a point of attack he didn't want to offer anyone.

He intertwined his fingers with hers and looked her firmly in the eyes. "You are the proudest, smartest, most beautiful woman I know. I desire no other."

Bulma's mouth dropped open and he saw tears flashing in her eyes. Had he said something wrong? But then she fell around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Vegeta put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Now he finally understood what Kera meant when she said that Piccolo was her home. Deeply he breathed in Bulma's scent. He would miss her when he was out in space with his siblings. He realised that at that moment.

"When I get back from my trip, I will spend more time with you. More time with both of you," he whispered against her ear and he could feel his words getting through to her. She pressed herself even tighter against him, as if reluctant to let him go.

"Please take care of yourself."

In response, he pressed his lips briefly to hers, eliciting a smile from her. For a while they just held each other. Vegeta was amazed that it didn't bother him. It was a completely new feeling and it was wonderful.

Finally Bulma broke away from him, wiped her face once and looked at the clock. "You should get some sleep now. You'll be flying in a few hours."

She made to pull the blanket over her, but Vegeta held her back. "I can sleep on the flight." He put on a crooked grin and pulled Bulma to him again.

In a few hours he would fly away from here but until then he would enjoy every second in his mate's arms.