AN: Thank you for the recent comments! I really appreciate the feedback, and I hope you enjoy!

Bulma woke with a blush on her cheeks before she even opened her eyes. Her first thought was of what they had done - what she had done - the night before. Of the sounds her husband had made as she followed his lead, of how overwhelmingly intimate it all was.

And when she opened her eyes a few seconds after consciousness, she saw Vegeta's face, still asleep. The blush intensified, as Bulma realized he'd chosen to finally share a bed with her for an evening. And she hadn't been awake to take note of it.

Her imagination swirled as she wondered what type of thoughts veered through Vegeta's mind during his shower. How had she looked when he'd walked in the room to find her asleep? What did he think when he saw her?

And what made him decide to climb in bed with her, instead of retreating to the library per usual?

Surely it was the moment they shared. Bulma wasn't naive enough to not understand that. But what exactly was it preventing him from such gestures before?

As she watched him, her heart pounding with her mind, Vegeta slowly opened his eyes. And then he was looking at her, returning the gaze, and she bit her lip shyly.

He smirked.

"Hello," Bulma whispered, mostly because she didn't know what else to say.

"Princess," His eyes were penetrating hers, as if he was trying to read her mind. And for a moment Bulma truly felt like he could. That he was actively examining her thoughts and learning just how intensely her body reacted when she thought of him.

"I fell asleep," Bulma said dumbly.

"I saw." He smirked. And then his eyes flashed, and his grin widened. "We left things unfinished."

"Oh," Bulma looked down shyly.

"If you wanted to, I mean." He added."

"It's just… Well, it's silly." She hated how she wore her feelings on her sleeve. She knew Vegeta would be able to read her like a book, even if there hadn't been a blush plastered on her face.

"What?" He asked.

"Just…" She closed her eyes. "I want to... I don't know, it sounds silly… I want to, but I'm scared, and…"

And then she felt his hand on her face, and her eyes snapped open. He was watching her, his thumb rubbing circles into her cheek. Suddenly the smirk was gone, and he wore a serious expression.

He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but he was immediately cut off by a knock at the door.

"Sire!" Someone yelled from the other side. "Your presence is needed in the control room!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. Bulma frowned disappointedly. For, even though she felt vulnerable in the conversation, she wanted to know what he would say. And she didn't want it to be cut off at this point in the talk. There should be some type of settlement, assurity.

"There is no rest for the wicked," Vegeta muttered. He placed a kiss on her forehead, just as he had the night before, and stood up.

Into the woods flew Krillin. He was rushing to pack, having just left a meeting with Maron and King Briefs. He'd been instructed to join alongside Roshi as representative of Planet Earth, in order to deliver reports to Bulma.

Entering his home, Krillin gagged at the strong scent of alcohol that was wafting in the air. He looked inside to see Yamcha on the living room floor, an empty liquor bottle under his arm. He had sheets wrapped around his legs, as if he had been fighting with his covers and rolled off the couch.

"Yamcha!" Krillin yelled. Yamcha remaining laying still on the floor. Slowly Krillin approached and then prodded the man with his boot.

Yamcha didn't even flinch.

With a sigh of disapproval, Krillin headed for the kitchen. After filling a glass of water, he marched back to his drunk friend and poured the water into his face. Yamcha let in a choke of air as he sat up, gasping as he looked around. It took a moment before his eyes settled on Krillin, and even more time before his pupils seemed to settle and a look of recognition dawned upon his face.

"What is wrong with you?!" Yamcha asked, trying to rub his face dry with his sleeve.

"Me? What's wrong with you?! " Krillin snapped. "Just look at you! You're drunk again! It's not even lunch time yet!"

"Leave me alone," With wobbly knees Yamcha pulled himself to his feet. He moved sloshing to the couch before plopping down and dropping his face into his hands. "It's the only way I can forget about her,"

"You can't go on like this." Krillin said crossly. "You drink every single day, and you aren't contributing to the expenses. You need to start carrying your weight around here. I need you to at least try."

"What do you want me to do?" Yamcha slurred, his voice muffled behind his hands. "I can't find a decent job since I've been blacklisted. I used to be a captain, and now I'm reduced to this. Nothing. I'm nothing without her!"

"You could find a job helping farmers in the area," Krillin offered, trying to ignore the tears he could hear in his friend's voice. He began to walk to his bedroom in order to start packing. "Buddy, you tried, and now you need to move on. Just like she did."

"Don't say that!" Yamcha snapped. He jumped up and followed his friend into the other room. "She got caught that day, and she was taken against her will!"

"Oh, come on." Krillin, who hadn't been there to witness the scene, rolled his eyes. "She willingly married the Prince. She is soon to be the Queen of Vegetasai. She's moved on." Krillin began stuffing clothes in his suitcase with exasperation.

"I know she still loves me!" Yamcha barked. "She's miserable without me!"

"Wake up, Yamcha! She's married, understand!?" Krillin couldn't take arguing with his drunkened friend anymore. "By now she's been in his bed a hundred tim-"

"SHUT UP!" Yamcha jumped into his friend's face, which was an interesting feat - considering that Krillin was more than a head shorter than Yamcha. Yamcha swung at Krillin, whom reacted by kicking the ex-captain in the stomach.

Yamcha dropped to his knees, hugging himself, groaning to catch his breath.

"Sorry, but you tried to hit me." Krillin glared. "I'm leaving, and when I come back I don't want to see you here if you're still in this condition. If you find a job you can stay."

"Where-" Yamcha gasped. "Are you going?"

"To Vegetasai. I am to report to the soon to be Queen about her father's health, the state of the Earth Kingdom, and provide advice should she have any questions."

"What about Maron?" Yamcha groaned, referring to the trusted advisor of King Briefs.

"She needs to tend to the King." Krillin replied flatly, closing his suitcase.

"And you're going to see my Bulma?" Yamcha wobbled to his feet.

"Yes." Krillin pressed a button on the side of his suitcase, capsulizing it. He placed the yellow capsule on a nearby shelf.

"When are you going?"

"Tomorrow at 8 AM. Yamcha, don't even ask. You already know the answer."

"Please!" Yamcha howled. He dropped to his knees and grabbed his friend's shirt, pleading. "Krillin, I have to see her! I need to talk to her! You know I need her! I would go myself if it were possible to get on a ship!"

" No!" Krillin swatted at Yamcha's hands, taking a step away. "You know perfectly well that Vegeta will kill you the moment he sees you. It's already a miracle that Kakarot let you off the hook after they left. Not every saiyan is as nice as him."

"But-!"

"Are you saying you want to die!?" Krillin snapped.

"If it means that I will see her, then yes! I'd gladly die in her arms!" Yamcha spat.

"You're impossible!" Krillin replied. "You're just saying that because you're so drunk! I am not going to carry you to your death."

And with that, as Yamcha watched with watery eyes, Krillin left, heading for the palace again.

Without speaking, Yamcha wiped the wetness from his cheeks, glaring at the door that his friend had just gone through. A plan was etching in his mind. He was going to see Bulma, and Krillin was going to get him there.

.

It was half past two in the afternoon on Vegetasai. Bulma sat at her desk, quieting sketching over her rough draft blueprints of the robot she was designing for her husband. A knock sounded at the door, and without looking up she called out. "Enter!"

A servant girl shyly stepped into the room. "Princess- Queen- erm. My lady Bulma," The servant said before dipping into a bow. "The empower and empress of planet Morricone have arrived."

"Hm?" She looked up from her desk to see the servant, a young girl of about twelve years of age. "Were we expecting them?"

"Yes, my lady. They are saying that the deceased King Vegeta was expecting them, and they arrived a few days early due to previous obligations being fulfilled sooner than anticipated."

"Oh…" Bulma stood. "So my husband wasn't aware of their coming?"

"It seems not, my lady."

"And where is my husband?"

"The Prince - erm, King - erm. Sire is in the red Dessert, training with general Bardock."

Bulma noticed the girl stumbling over which titles to use, and she nodded sympathetically. There had been no coronation - at least, not yet. They were not yet technically a king nor queen.

"Could you have one of my husband's generals go find him?" Bulma asked.

"Somebody like sir Nappa?" The girl asked.

"Yeah - Nappa - sure. Could you have him locate my husband and inform him of what is happening?"

"Yes, my lady." The servant bowed.

"Thank you," Bulma smiled. "And where are our guests currently?"

"In the throne room." The servant replied.

"Alright," Bulma nodded. "I will go receive them. Please make sure my husband joins as soon as possible."

After quickly changing into the nicest dress she could locate in her closet, Bulma walked to the throne room. She quickly rehashed what she knew of planet Morricone in her head as she went, mentally preparing for whatever the meeting was to be about.

The people of Planet Morricone thrived on their natural resources and trades issued with other planets. They were blessed with a world that produced many valuable natural minerals.

Had they come to propose a trade of some sort?

Seeing as how no coronation had yet occurred, it was highly probable that they did not know of the death of the previous King. They likely wouldn't be anticipating Bulma or her husband at all…

With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Bulma carefully stepped into the throne room. At the end of the room she saw the guests, who seemed to be admiring the paintings displayed on the walls. They turned when they heard her enter.

Empress Morricone was thin and looked nearly identical to the Emperor. She had long black hair, and the dress she wore hung as if it was several sizes too big. At her side stood the Emperor, equally tall and thin. They watched as Bulma approached, and it was hard not to be intimidated by their third eye that was staring from their foreheads.

Bulma curtsied politely, as she always did when greeting other royalty. "Hello,"

"Hello." The Empress and Emperor smiled warmly, bowing back.

"I am Queen Bulma," She announced. It was true that she had not yet been granted the title of Queen, but she thought the introduction would be much easier than explaining the current limbo that the kingdom sat in until her husband decided he was ready to be crowned.

The guests smiled with pleasant surprise. They began to exchange further introductions.

.

"What is it, Nappa!? Can't you see I'm busy?!" Vegeta barked. He was holding his arms up in a block as Bardock threw a punch. Bardock continued his assault, as if no interruption had been made.

"The Emperor and Empress of Morricone have arrived!" Nappa was announcing, nearly frantic.

"Who?" Vegeta actually turned to look at the bald saiyan, just as a fist collided with his temple. "OW! Damnit, Bardock! Pause with your punches!"

"The rulers of Morricone have arrived. Queen - Princess - Your wife has received them in the throne room. She requests you join her at once."

"Damnit!" Vegeta spat irritably. Just when the training session had been starting to get interesting. And why the hell were the Emperor and Empress of Morricone on his planet?

And Bulma -

Was she up to meeting them?

Vegeta remembered how pleasant and charismatic she had been when he'd met her, himself. But she wasn't used to the politics of Vegetasai. There was a good chance she might be in over her head at that very minute.

.

To say that the Empress of Morricone was shocked when a sweaty and dirt-caked Vegeta walked into the room would have been an understatement. Her mouth dropped open and she watched wordlessly as Vegeta filed in. "Excuse my tardiness," He said, with no explanation as to why his shirt was ripped and his temple bruised.

Smiling as if nothing was amiss, Bulma nodded gracefully. "Vegeta, this is Emperor Salim and Empress Ere. They have come to visit from the planet Morricone."

Stopping when he was in front of them, Vegeta put a hand to his chest and bowed his head. "Welcome."

"Dear, perhaps you should get cleaned up before the official meeting." Bulma said, the words flowing from her mouth as delicately as a song.

With a frown, Vegeta looked down at himself. He'd been so concerned on how Bulma was holding up that he'd gone straight to the throne room. It almost irritated him that she seemed so comfortable and confident. Surely he thought he would have been desperately needed. He'd made himself a fool - and for what?

And she was right. He should have showered and changed into royal attire before joining in. Bulma had always been natural when it came to etiquette. It was something that had charmed him so. He was also educated in etiquette, but he was prone to performing the bare minimum. He knew what to do, and when to do it, but it wasn't second-nature as it seemed to be with her.

"Fine. Excuse me." Vegeta nodded at the guests and then turned, striding out of the throne room without another word.

"I am hoping you'll accept my apologies," Bulma was smiling at the guest now. "As you arrived early, my husband was in the middle of a routine assessment on combat protocol. I trust you'll understand."

"It's quite alright, my lady. We did not know that the prince had become the King. It seems that the timing of our meeting was most unfortunate." The Empress replied.

"No, no!" Bulma insisted, straightening her posture a bit. "I wouldn't dream of using such a word to describe this wonderful meeting!"

"Ahem!" A clearing of throat grabbed the attention of the three. They looked up to see a far more presentable Bardock standing in the center of the room.

"My old friend!" The Emperor exclaimed. "It's very nice to see you're still as young as you were when we last met!"

"You two have met?" Bulma asked.

"Yes, my lady. Five years ago my pod made an emergency landing on planet Morricone, and the Emperor and Empress received me."

"I see," Bulma said thoughtfully.

And before she could ask anything else, Bardock announced the reason for his presence. "My Lady, may I please have a few seconds of your attention?"

"Of course, if it may not wait." Bulma stood. "Please excuse me. I will only be a moment." She exited the room with Bardock behind her.

"My Lady, shouldn't you be assisting the King in getting dressed?" Bardock asked when they were in the hall. He seemed more than a little taken aback.

"Huh?" Bulma blinked. "I should?"

"You should, my lady." Bardock raised his eyebrows.

"But he always dresses himself, and I can't leave our guests alone. I don't see why I should-"

"My Lady. This meeting requires royal attire, and Vegeta always receives assistance when he puts such attire on."

"No he doesn't," Bulma said incredulously. "He needed no assistance when he was visiting Earth!"

"And this is Vegetasai, my lady." Bardock seemed to be growing impatient now. "Customs are different here."

"But-" Bulma began, and Bardock cut her off with a sigh.

He leaned in closer to his face, whispering urgently. "I'm just going to have to say it, won't I? My Lady, I saw Nova rushing to get him dressed. As she-"

"What?!" Bulma snapped. "That little-!"

"Just go, My Lady! This is quite the opportunity to assert your position with her."

"Vegeta wouldn't let her! He is married!" Bulma's cheeks began to flush with indignation.

"She has assisted him in getting dressed up until now," Bardock said through gritted teeth. "As she has since they were quite young. It would not be out of the usual for-"

"Thanks, Bardock!" Bulma spat. She hitched her dress above her feet and began to run down the hall, her heart pounding with rage. On the way to the chambers, she cursed as she had never done before. Not out loud, of course. But in her head, the foul language was quite rampant.

.

Stepping out of the shower, Vegeta was rubbing a towel through his drenched hair. He pulled a robe on, tying it shut, and stepped into the bedroom. He entered the room to see Nova laying out his royal attire on the bed. She turned and greeted him with a warm smile.

"How did you know?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow. He had never really paid attention to this until recently. Nova always seemed to know when he needed something, ready to assist before he had to ask. He'd taken it for granted before, as that had always been her duty. But after Bulma's complaints, he was more mindful than ever of his position with Nova.

"It is my duty, isn't it?" Nova smiled, her cute button nose upturned. "I always know what you need, and when you need it. Vegeta."

"It was your duty." Vegeta corrected. "It should now be someone else."

The smile on Nova's face widened painfully, in defiance of her heart dropping at his words.

"Why do you smile?" Vegeta seemed both annoyed and confused.

"It's just… I haven't been able to talk to you alone, since you got back. And…" She stepped forward, She blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I missed you."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Vegeta grunted.

"It's about your wife, to be honest." Nova stepped closer still, placing a hand on his chest. She opened her mouth to continue, but this was the precise moment that the door swung open and Bulma made her entrance.

Bulma narrowed her eyes when she saw them. Vegeta clad in only his red robe, Nova's hand on his chest. Bulma had never been a violent woman, but at that moment she felt more wild than ever before. Visions of Nova's hair in her hands as she yanked on it flashed across Bulma's eyes.

"What are you doing?!" She spat, glaring. Vegeta quickly stepped away from Nova.

"I'm helping Vegeta get dressed," Nova replied nonchalantly.

"No you aren't!" Bulma hissed.

"But I always do, My Lady." Nova narrowed her eyes. "After all. It is my duty."

"Not anymore, it's not!" Bulma spat. She was trying her damndest to keep her temper from flaring, and she could feel her fingers trembling as she aggressively grabbed the black garment from the bed. "Get out, Nova."

"But…" Nova turned to Vegeta. "Your majesty!"

"You heard her." Vegeta ordered. "Leave us."

"But-!"

"Out!" Bulma spat. She raised a shaking hand to the door, and Nova glared. She exited the room silently, not saying anything more.

As soon as the door shut, Bulma turned on Vegeta. "I come in here and find that girl's hands on you?! How could you!?"

"She has always assisted me in getting dressed in the past," Vegeta said calmly, understanding exactly how things looked.

"Is there something going on between you two!?" Bulma hissed. "Because you looked pretty comfortable with-"

"Enough of the jealousy," Vegeta interrupted. "As I said, she has always assisted me with getting dressed for royal duties in the past."

"I'm not jealous!" Bulma's cheeks reddened.

"Then why are you so angry?" Vegeta said. He smirked, his tone teasing as he looked his wife over.

"Because!" Bulma spat. "I! I! Well, I'm allowed to be jealous!"

"Knew it." Vegeta grinned. He placed his arms on Bulma's sides and planted a firm kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, her anger fading as he pulled her close.

"We'll finish this later," He whispered when he pulled away. "We have guests waiting on us. I need to get dressed."

"Hmph." Bulma muttered. And then her eyes widened, for Vegeta slowly began to untie his robe.

And he let it fall to the floor.

And Bulma tried to give him privacy. She tried not to look down at the man in front of her. Her husband, wearing nothing and shining with saturation. Wet and smirking, his eyes locked on hers.

Without looking away,Vegeta gently took the suit from Bulma's hands. And her eyes slowly moved down to his chest as he began to step into the suit. Just the previous night she had been rubbing that chest. In the dark, unable to see just how defined it was. She couldn't help but stare.

"I'll need my armor." Vegeta said as he pulled on his shirt. "It's on the bed."

"Oh, right." Bulma snapped out of her daze. She moved to the bed to retrieve the armor, taking note of just how complex the design was. She'd never held the armor, never seen it so close. Her fingers brushed against the silver carefully, taking in the etches embedded into it. The armor was divided into two parts - the front section, and the back. Gold strips colored lay next to the armor.

Bulma began to grab at the strips. Vegeta's hand brushed hers and she looked up, seeing him standing next to her.

"Fasten the armor with the strips. They'll hold it together." Vegeta grabbed the front section of his armor and positioned it to his chest. The armor perfectly embraced his chiseled abdomen. Bulma grabbed the back section and walked behind him. She placed it against his back. She then grabbed two strips of the gold and placed them on his shoulders, fastening the two sections of his armor together. Bulma grabbed the last two strips and placed them to Vegeta's left and right sides of his ribs, also fastening the armor from Vegeta's sides. Bulma grabbed his gloves and held them up so he could slide his hands into them.

As Vegeta moved his fingers in his gloves he spoke. "Nova and I have nothing going on between us. We never have."

Bulma looked into his eyes. "But you care about her? Don't you?" She whispered back.

His eyes widened, and he looked her over as if trying to determine if she was serious. Bulma glared back.

"Listen. We grew up together. She was always following me around. I'm used to her presence. I defended her when the other brats teased her for being different. What do you call that?"

"I don't know, what do you?" Bulma breathed. The image of Nova standing with her hand on Vegeta's chest was replaying in her head, and she had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling.

"Friends. You call us friends." Vegeta answered. And it was true. In reality, Nova was Vegeta's friend. He still looked at her as the little girl who always followed him around. He still had not noticed that Nova had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. He had not realized that Nova was deeply in love with him, but Bulma did.

How could he notice?

He was so involved in the empire's affairs, his father's death, Frieza and Bulma. Bulma was the only woman that called his attention.

At this revelation, Bulma felt relieved. She could see the honesty in her husband's eyes. And it helped to fill some of the hurt that was slicing inside at the idea of Nova touching him. Slowly her lips spread into a smile, and Vegeta planted another warm kiss on her lips.

"Now we go." He whispered.

"So, what do you think the Emperor wants?" Bulma asked, wrapping her arm around Vegeta's.

"Didn't he tell you?"

"No. He said he would tell us everything when we were all together."

"Then what did you talk about before I arrived?" Vegeta asked as they moved down the corridor.

"Essentially, I told him about our marriage. And I had to explain about your father's passing."

"I suppose that was necessary." He grunted. And then began to descend down the stairs, their arms still linked together.