A/N: Sorry this came so late! I was at a retreat over the weekend and didn't get to write at all, so I'm trying to catch up a little now! Thanks to hisuichanxx, maxridelover, ElsaBriefs, elsi, wiz2mii, Son of Whitebeard, suksuzukipuki, sora 79, MBLMA, and a guy lol for reviewing! As always, it is very much appreciate and encouraging. Please keep giving me your thoughts! Feedback is the best thing for any story!

"Hey, Bulma!" Goku was waving frantically as Bulma landed at Kame House. He enthusiastically flew up to the door and lifted her out of the pod.

"Geez Goku, what's got you so excited?" Bulma said as he set her on her feet. She hadn't received a welcome like that from him in a long time.

"He wants to know about the Saiyans," Krillin said.

"And so do I!" Yamcha put in. "Hey, none of them have done anything to you, right Bulma? They're not still threatening you?"

"No," Bulma said. She shrugged. "As long as I'm useful to their 'prince', all of our lives are as safe as they can be." Then, she actually smiled at Goku. "You know, they gave me new tech too! Your brother Raditz let me look at his pod and scouter."

"Yeah, it's great," Yamcha said with a note of bitterness in his voice. "They only threatened to kill us all."

Bulma scowled at him. "Don't start in on this again."

"On what? HE was the one who threatened to kill you, not me!"

Bulma sighed, deciding to ignore Yamcha and his bait. Anytime they broke up, they both were taken to provoking each other and she didn't have time for that today. "Look, I came because I got a spare minute to talk about the Dragonballs."

There was a rippled gasp. She had said it almost casually, yet they all knew that it wasn't a casual subject. "You're not planning on using them?" Krillin asked. "You don't need them do you?" He gulped. Those Saiyans scared the crap out of him, and he wouldn't be surprised if they had to bring someone back to life, like Bulma's parents, because one of them lost their temper.

"No! That's exactly what I wanted to talk about. The Saiyans don't know about the Dragonballs and they can NEVER know about them," Bulma said in enough of an undertone that the others had to lean in to hear her. "Especially Vegeta."

"Well I don't disagree with that," Master Roshi said. "But how do you know they don't already know about them?"

"Because if they had known, Vegeta would have killed us all and started looking for them," Bulma said solemnly. She had no illusions about the Saiyan Prince's character, despite the fact that they were in a tentative truce based on her ability to increase his battle power. "Plus…there are only so many people who know about the Dragonballs and most of them are here. Also, I went to the mountain and asked Piccolo about it. Whether he had talked to any of them. He said he had only had a brief encounter with Raditz before Raditz was called back to Nappa and Vegeta through his scouter. He was a little annoyed that I had gone to find him, actually. He's a pretty lonely guy."

Varying degrees of shock came at that declaration. "Are you crazy?!" demanded Yamcha.

"Obviously not, since I'm still here, very much alive." Bulma said coldly, getting annoyed by Yamcha's attitude.

"Yeah, well…luck only goes so far, babe." Yamcha said. The other witnesses to this exchange were now looking away awkwardly, except for Goku, who, for all of his social ineptitudes, at least knew to be quiet.

"Ugh! You know what?" Bulma snarled, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't come around Capsule Corp anymore! If I need help, I'll be sure not to ask YOU for anything." She looked around at the rest of them. "I just came here to say that under no circumstances can Vegeta or the other Saiyans know about the Dragonballs. If they do, we could lose everything we have for leverage, because it's not beyond Vegeta to wish himself to more power, or even immortality.

"So don't use the Dragonballs, don't talk about them or even think about them! All of our lives are at stake." She glanced around at them all pointedly, even the chastened Yamcha. "And don't die, because trying to wish you back would expose our secret and basically put the Dragonballs in Vegeta's hands."

With that, Bulma turned to leave, patting Goku briefly on the shoulder. He was the only one she saw much at all anymore, since he and his brother had developed a pretty weird relationship that consisted mainly of beating each other up… and she could always count on him to at least to try and protect her if anything happened.

"Bulma!" It was Yamcha's voice again that called out. She debated completely ignoring him, but then decided to be the bigger person this time and turned around.

"What?"

"How…how long are they going to stay?" The question was tentative and hung in the air. The others were looking too, clearly wondering the same thing.

"I don't know," Bulma said finally. "But we'll have to keep our guard up as long as it takes."

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"Boy."

Bulma was awake now, but he had come hours earlier to wake up his son and instead found her cuddling with the brat while they slept. Apparently, it was the only way to keep either of them from laying claim to the entire bed in a most undignified fashion. He could sense her ki moving to the bath to take a shower and figured that this was his chance.

The boy's lavender hair was a disastrous mess, unfortunate he didn't have Saiyan hair so he could avoid such difficulties. And his mouth was hanging open as he sprawled out like a starfish now that his mother wasn't hemming him in. The boy would have his own bed on Vegeta-sei. No more of this tactile, touchy-feely nonsense.

"Boy!" Vegeta yelled and the child snapped awake mid-snore.

He blinked blearily up at the man standing over him, before rocketing up and looking around with an impressive shift in alertness. "Where's my mama?" he said, the scowl on his face ever-present.

"She's bathing herself in there," Vegeta said carelessly. "You mustn't cling to her like some swaddled infant. It is shameful in a royal brat. Now, show me your fighting stance."

Not seeming at all thrown off by the shift in conversation, the boy immediately shifted into a passable position with no small deal of excitement, legs half-crouched and fists clenched, but Vegeta tch-ed with disappointment. "I see that that imbecile Kakarot has been giving you pointers."

"Kaka…" Trunks tilted his head in confusion. "Karot? Kaka-karot? I don't know an imbecile named that."

Vegeta sniffed. "You do, if you would pronounce it right. You call him by his idiot Earthling name, I'm sure. In any case, that is not important. What is important is that we are going to train."

"Really?" The boy asked, his eyes wide and bright. That was good, Vegeta noted. If he recalled correctly, Kakarot's brat Gohan, did not like to fight. But when prompted, his bursts of rage were useful in boosting his power to such a degree that he was able to take down warriors who were a great deal older and stronger than him.

A lack of enthusiasm for fighting didn't seem to be a problem for his son. And that was as it should be. And he wondered if rage would do the same for this hybrid, and what he could use to manipulate that rage…

Trunks swiveled his head to the side as the shower turned off and moments later, Bulma emerged from the door of the bathroom with a cloud of steam, robed in a towel. She stopped short when she saw the surprise occupant of the room. "Vegeta…"

"Woman."

"Why do you call her that?" Trunks said. "Mama's name is Bulma."

"I know that," Vegeta growled indignantly. The kid was a know-it-all, just like his mother. "I prefer to call her 'woman'."

"Why?"

"Because that's what she is!" Vegeta snapped.

"Uhhh…" Bulma looked between them with her mouth hanging open, seeming surprised by the interaction. Still clutching the towel, she bent and went to grab some clothing. "I'll be right back. I'm going to change…"

"Oh, do change here," Vegeta said. "I wouldn't mind." The innuendo out of his mouth seemed to surprise him more than it did Bulma. But then, she was annoyingly unfazed by most things. Stupid Woman.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Bulma responded dryly. "However, Trunks might."

Vegeta glanced dismissively at the puzzled child on the bed. "Leave, brat."

"No way!" Trunks glared, then looked to his mother for help.

"Hey, Vegeta!" He smirked because he could tell she wanted to put her hands on her hips, but could not without dropping the towel protecting her form. "Knock it off. I'm changing in the bathroom." She glanced between them. "My son doesn't go anywhere until I get back."

"Hn." Vegeta debated grabbing the brat by the scruff and hauling him off to the gravity room anyway, but then decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Better to lull the woman into a false sense of security and take more daring moves later on. He was playing a long game after all… the Woman thought she was going to run a quick study on her son, give Vegeta his answers and return to her own planet with their brat.

But it wasn't that simple.

Trunks was watching Vegeta with a strange mix of awe and disgust as Bulma disappeared back into the adjoining room.

"I don't like you, even if you're really my papa" Trunks declared. "But I will train with you."

Vegeta found himself smirking again, because the boy did remind him of himself, the imperiousness and brutal honesty. "'Like' means nothing to me. But I am your father and you will respect me. And you will train with me. That is what I require."

Trunks shrugged. "Okay." He hopped off the bed. "I need to put on my shorts."

The boy danced around too much, and was far too excitable. That would have to be worked out of him. The child rummaged through his bag at a sedate pace, obviously willing to heed his mother's order to stay there until she returned.

When she did, she was dressed in her usual human attire, revealing more skin than necessary, as she always did.

"Is that appropriate attire to wear while conducting your research?" Vegeta wondered aloud. Bulma, as expected, immediately sent him a fierce glare.

"I guess I forgot my lab coat when you kidna—" she stopped, glancing quickly at Trunks. "In the rush of everything."

He smirked at her guarding her tongue for the boy's sake. Trunks truly brought a level of control over her that he would have never had before, short of killing her. As long as she remained in their son's presence, she would be careful.

He gave her another up-and-down with distrust. Her seductive qualities were another thing entirely. He remembered that the scientists on his planet most certainly didn't dress like that. If they had, maybe they wouldn't have gone extinct and led the Saiyans to begin appropriating tech from other planets and cultures. He eyed the woman before him, imagining her as Saiyan—when her eyes (he couldn't imagine them as Saiyan black, no… always blue) lit up with brilliance and she leaned into her work, designing things capable of enhancing his species strength tenfold. And possibly more…depending on what they could find in their hybrid son.

"We are going to train now, Woman," Vegeta said.

Bulma, for her part, didn't like the idea of her baby boy training with his father. She knew exactly the type of brutality that Vegeta was capable of…and she also knew that his experience and care with children was abysmal at best. But she also tried to reason with herself. Even in the womb, Trunks' power had the ability to bruise her. She had had to teach him to be gentle with her, his own mother, so she could avoid serious injury just from simple touches.

Honestly, it had really called home just how gentle Vegeta had had to be when he interacted with her physically. While having sex he would have had to keep his head the entire time to avoid hurting her…she quickly realized the level of his self-control just by dealing with a half-Saiyan child who had none of it.

Vegeta may have been stronger than she could comprehend, but so was Trunks…

"Are you going to watch?"

If the two of them came to serious blows, she wouldn't be able to stop it, at least not without probably getting bludgeoned to death in the process. And she didn't trust Vegeta. But she had known all along when he was aiming to do, and right now, she didn't have the power to stop it. But she would get it. No matter what it took.

"I'm coming," she said, and Trunk jumped in the air and whooped, never wanting to miss the opportunity to show off for his mother. He didn't know his opponent, though…

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

Bulma squinted at the computer screen, before leaning back and shaking her head. "You gotta be kidding me. Four thousand years plus." Compulsively, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail so it would stop falling into her face, and rubbed her eyes. How could she design a ship going at such a speed that it wouldn't take thousands of years to get to Namek?

She knew that it wasn't completely necessary. But then, who was to say that it wasn't? She didn't trust the Saiyans and she couldn't bank on the chance that they would never find out about the Dragonballs. Hell, Goku was always blabbing things at the drop of a hat. They needed a security policy and a way to get there.

Rubbing her temples in methodical circles, she murmured to herself, "I can do this. I will make this happen. I can do this."

"WOMAN!"

Bulma gave herself a split second to groan before she tapped out of all of her files, leaving the screen blank before Vegeta appeared at the door.

"Your damned machine is insufficient!"

"How so?" Bulma said brightly. She knew it annoyed him when she responded to his anger with happiness.

"'How so?' It's breaks constantly!" Suddenly, she found herself nearly nose to nose with him, his arms wired on either side of her—a simple, powerful cage. "Fix it."

The unwarranted rage in his eyes always gave her the instinct to cower, but instead she decided to fulfill some curiosity and leaned forward so their noses really did brush up against each other. He was paralyzed momentarily, so there was no mistaking the caress, and he then drew back in surprise. "What're you—"

"No. What are you doing?" she said. "It's so rude to come barging into someone's lab because you broke something that they made for you."

"I did not—"

"Never mind invading their personal space and glaring murderously at them." She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. "And all without taking a shower. You really need to learn some manners, Vegeta!"

He actually growled at her. Like an animal would. "If you were anyone else, I would have ripped your intestines out by now. Be thankful for my mercy."

"And if you were anyone else, I would not be making or fixing any damn thing for you! You know, I have other things to do! I don't just sit around here, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to come over here and threaten me and demand that I fix what you break!"

"Like anything you do is more important than that," Vegeta sneered. "A weakling like you can only serve more powerful beings."

"Wanna bet?" Bulma muttered, turning back to her computer…not to do anything on it, but just to give the impression that she was ignoring him. She expected him to start yelling again, or to punch something in her lab, because smashing things when he didn't get his way was a favored pastime of his.

But instead she heard silence. A silence so long that she thought that maybe he had left. She didn't dare turn around and find out, though. Then she felt something tug at the back of her head. Her hair tie parted company with her hair and she felt it her long, blue strands drop around her face and down her back.

She felt his warm, big hands parting through her locks curiously. And it felt nice, so she let him for a few long moments. She didn't ask him what he was doing. She didn't tell him to stop. She briefly thought of Yamcha's hands, but didn't know why. And then she forgot when one of his palms drifted lower and rested on the back of her neck, flexing experimentally.

"Soft," he murmured.

It was very, very hot quite suddenly. She whipped her head around to face him and she saw it—that intent fascination in his eyes, like he had never done or seen such a thing as simple as touching a woman's hair. But the moment their eyes met, that fascination flickered and died and he was scowling at her as firmly as ever.

"Fix my machine."

He was gone before she could fully blink or the words could register. And in her pique, she shouted back, "It's MY machine!"

VBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVBVB

"I thought I would never have the displeasure of seeing you again," Bulma said to the person who came up behind her. He stood next to her, watching the scene before them. Vegeta was putting Trunks through paces in the little Gravity Room she constructed so many years ago for his ship, not attacking him, but letting the boy attack and countering the blows easily. There was nothing on his face, no indication that he was thinking anything whatsoever.

"The feeling is mutual, female," Nappa returned. He kept his arms crossed, and didn't look at her. "Ever since the Prince met you, you have been nothing but a chaotic, troublesome distraction." She glanced at the big aliens knuckles and heard them cracking, saw that they were white with restraint. She was under no allusions about Nappa either, she had never been. The Prince's second had always wanted her dead. And he had never made any secret of it. But before, Vegeta was always sending him on the missions that Freiza gave the Saiyans so that he could cover and Nappa wouldn't have to stay on Earth for too long, lest he started shoving his hands through peoples' chests.

"If Vegeta felt the same way, he would have already killed me," Bulma reminded him. "And if he doesn't want me dead, your hands are pretty much tied."

"It would be worth it, I think," Nappa said lowly. "You have bewitched him and I have allowed it to go on. I have not done my job, thinking that he would leave you and your pathetic planet. And when he did, I rejoiced."

Bulma was surprised that Nappa was revealing so much to her, but the surprise wasn't a positive feeling, but rather an uncomfortable one. Nappa had never had many words for her, and most of them were spit out through barely restrained rage. This thoughtful, calm Nappa was far scarier.

"And then we were on-planet and we found a Saiyan hybrid. It was a complete mishap. But there was no mistaking what he was… and the hybrid had the abilities of his own race along with a Saiyan strength. I rue the day we went there. And I rue the day that Vegeta met you. Because of course, right after that, the Prince started thinking about Kakarot's brat and then he gave the order." He sighed. "I knew he wouldn't stop at the brat. I knew that he would go to you as soon as the opportunity presented itself."

"Mama, are you watching?" Trunks cried from the other end. Even she could see that his movements were appropriately clumsy for a boy of almost five years old, Saiyan or not.

"I'm watching," she called back.

Vegeta turned at the sound of her voice, but his face was cold. She saw his eyes flit to Nappa before he re-focused on Trunks' childish attempts to pummel him.

"And then he left me on the ship and found you and your little abomination," Nappa said. Bulma tried to plug down on the anger she felt at his reference to Trunks. "And the next thing I know, you are here. And he isn't going to let you go this time. I know it."

"That's not true," Bulma said, feeling a small pit of dread return again. "He just wants me to test Tr—"

"You are a fool if you think that he is going to take you to his planet and then return you just as quickly. You may know your Earth customs and your silly emotions, but you don't know about Saiyan customs or…what Saiyans do instead of emotion." Nappa finally looked at her, and his face was dark with rage. "He hasn't stepped foot on his home planet since he was very young and brash. And now he returns and brings an alien woman and their half-breed son and will expect the love of the people? You will destroy him!"

Bulma wanted to say several things. She wanted to tell this stupid, smelly brute that she at least knew Vegeta well enough to know that he only gave a damn about getting stronger. Being a loved prince meant much less to him. She wanted to tell him not to sell her short, because if he thought she couldn't outsmart Vegeta, than he was dumber than he looked. And she also wanted to tell Nappa that he was grossly overestimating Vegeta's feelings for her.

"They're not feelings," Nappa snarled, and Bulma stepped back, not realizing that she had spoken the last bit aloud. "He desires you in a Saiyan way. He wants to possess you. Feelings have nothing to do with it!"

Vegeta had told her that often enough. And he always told her to shut up about her own feelings. She remembered having sex with him as he marked her with his teeth and growled "Mine, mine, mine" over and over. But she wasn't about to share that with Nappa.

"He doesn't… he wants—"

"Yes, he does!" Nappa roared, grabbing her by the throat. "Don't pretend you know a damn thing!" Even though she had sensed his growing anger, she was still shocked that he had laid a hand on her, of course, that may also have been, in part, lack of blood going to her brain… She scrabbled against the back of Nappa's meaty hands helplessly, before she was thrown sideways and dropped to the ground.

"LET GO OF HER!"

She scrambled up immediately, her back aching, and saw that Trunks had seen the confrontation once it got violent and had come to her aid. But there was an energy whipping up around him that she could feel. He attacked Nappa furiously and, much like Gohan did with Raditz years ago, Trunks was overpowering the older Saiyan.

But she couldn't really see or understand…she had never been able to follow those battles they waged on each other. And she was worried that perhaps she wasn't seeing it right. Bulma's eyes cast around the room for Vegeta and found him walking towards them, slowly, with a smirk on his face.

"Vegeta, stop him!" She honestly didn't know whether she meant Nappa or Trunks, she just knew that she wanted to stop this before her boy got hurt. Nappa wouldn't have a problem hurting an "abomination" to his Saiyan pride. "Please!"

The smirk didn't fade. "You know how I like it when you beg."

His callousness panicked her. What had she gotten her and her son into with this man? "PLEASE!"

Like lightning, Vegeta was between his son and Nappa, barely blocking one of Trunks' shots. "That's enough, boy. Nappa won't touch your mother again."

"How do you know?" Trunks shot back hotly, panting with rage. He lashed out a kick at his father, but his initial outburst had already been interrupted and he was calming down, so Vegeta parried it without trouble.

"Because I said that I would not allow it, and I won't." With that, Vegeta turned to Nappa, who was looking somewhere between incredulous and stricken. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your life right now for disobeying my directive. And give it to me very quickly, Nappa."

His second didn't wait. He immediately sank to his knees and bent his bald head. "I beg your pardon, my prince. I forgot myself and I ask your mercy. I will not disobey your order again."

"You will do more than that, Nappa," Vegeta said, taking a step closer to his comrade. "You will now protect that woman with your own life. If anyone wishes her harm on Vegeta-sei…if she dies, you die. Am I making myself clear?"

Nappa bowed his head again. "Most clear, Your Majesty."

Bulma had to stifle bitter laughter at that, just from what Nappa said only minutes ago about it being worth it to end her life to "free Vegeta" or whatever… She would never trust that guy. She didn't care what vows he made to his prince. If he thought she needed to be eliminated, well… she definitely couldn't turn her back on him.

"Are you alright, Mama?" Trunks had crept over to her when she had been watching the exchange. Her little boy, her sweet, innocent little boy didn't care about the Saiyans or their power plays. He just wanted to know that she was okay. Her heart both melted and cried out for him.

"The only reason I'm not killing you," Vegeta said, "is that you happened to do something that was quite useful to me. Even though you didn't mean it to happen, it is enough for me to spare you this time." Vegeta slowly turned and found her eyes and his own were smiling in some awful way. "It was very useful."

Small, muscular arms squeezed her slightly and she came back to herself. "I'm…I'm fine, Trunks," she said past the lump in her throat. She gathered him to her and he let her, while casting hateful looks in the direction of her attacker.

"If he hurts you again, I'll kill him, Mama."

And then she remembered, her sweet little boy…was a Saiyan.

A/N: My Saiyans really like to strangle humans, don't they? Or at least Bulma… Thanks for being so patient this time! Reviews always appreciated! Any insights you have at all, I would love to hear.