A/N This has been sitting in my files for a long while as a potential oneshot or larger story. I've been recently going over all my works, updating certain fanfictions while considering the plans for each one and then the news of Akira Toriyama's passing occurred. It was the right time for this to go up as is. It's my little expression of acknowledgement to a man whose storytelling has had such an impact on my own storytelling and ventures into publication. RIP Mr Toriyama. Thankyou for many great characters and entertainment.

Lifting Bulma – by MiluiElenath

"I told you to take it easy!" Bulma chided the Saiyan prince, "I warned you that it couldn't take 450g's in its current condition." Bulma's hands were on her hips; her eyebrows were drawn together in a frown that dissipated as she resignedly said. "Up."

"And I told you," Vegeta retorted forcefully while simultaneously lifting her onto the ledge, "that I was taking it easy."

"With eleven training bots?" She peered down at him, her expression openly unconvinced.

His arms then folded across his chest as he continued, "I completely absorbed every one of their blasts."

"Completely. Yet somehow the control panel has scorch marks upon it?"

"That was a residual effect."

"Residual?" She raised her brows.

"Caused by one of your bots that fired upon me of its own volition, after, I had told them to stand down." Vegeta looked at her pointedly.

Bulma tossed her head and smirked. "Well, you told me and I quote, a true warrior should always be on his guard. Number five adapter please."

Vegeta scowled handing her an adapter. "I was thoroughly attentive to the situation. It was an unfortunate coincidence that when I deflected the attack the bot liquefied over the control panel before disintegrating."

"Ahh, that explains the fused circuits," Bulma said wryly, pulling at burnt wire before dislodging the entire part.

Vegeta's mouth drew into a grim line. "This machine is becoming entirely too unreliable."

"No argument there." Bulma agreed, taking another circuit board from her lab coat and snapping it into place. "Done," she said holding her arms out.

Vegeta lifted her back down.

"But," she warned, "if you think I'm spending my days and nights refurbishing it you can think again!" She gave Vegeta a shove and flounced out of the gravitron space capsule.

There was a blip as the portal window on the gravitron transmuted before Piccolo's eyes and became the humbler surrounds of Goku's residence.

Goku was beside him, hand still on his forehead after completing his instant transmission. His face was despondent.

"What should we do Piccolo?" Goku hopped from one foot to the other. "Trunks isn't going to be born. It was that stupid remark I made to Bulma about her healthy baby, I know it."

"Do?" said Piccolo levelly. "We should do nothing. Everything is on track as far as I can tell." Piccolo regretted ever reproaching Goku about the comment. The Saiyan had never let go of his concern. The incessant worrying and whining that intermittently burst forth from the spiky-haired warrior – half way through training, or meditation, or eating, . . . or the middle of the night - had finally forced Piccolo to agree to a short spying mission to confirm all was well with the two potential parents.

"What are you talking about?" Goku cried in dismay. "They were snapping at each other. Bulma walked off."

Piccolo groaned. "Look Goku. I told you before there was nothing to worry about. I spent 129 days with the two of them at Capsule Corp while you were off having your Yadrat adventure, it was as plain to me then as it is now where those two are headed."

Goku pouted, "But how can you say that after what we just saw?"

"Watch and listen Goku because if I have to see it a third time, I think I might puke." Piccolo could not believe he was having to do this.

He placed his hand on Goku's forehead and brought forth the memory of the event they had just witnessed between Bulma and Vegeta. He slowed it down.

"First," said Piccolo, "notice the way Bulma expects Vegeta to lift her up and that Vegeta does exactly that."

"Yeah," Goku agreed, "but it's probably just the fastest way to get it fixed."

"Notice the way Bulma silently communicates to get down again," Piccolo insisted, "and that Vegeta not only understands her intentions but complies again."

"Still, that could—."

"and how tenderly Vegeta places her feet back on the ground," Piccolo interrupted tersely "and how he keeps his hands on her waist for longer than needed."

"Oh wow," Goku grinned. "Is that . . . is Vegeta blushing when they come face to face?"

"And just so you're absolutely convinced Goku, there's also this." Piccolo slowed the memory further at the moment Bulma placed her hands upon Vegeta to push him away. There was no doubt that her hands lingered, her fingers splayed out for extra contact with the tips of them curving just enough to almost be clutching Vegeta's chest. There was the briefest of smirks shared between the two before the final parting where both their expressions returned to feigned indifference.

"Satisfied?" Piccolo folded his arms, determining that in his next sparring session with Goku, he would make the Saiyan pay for this voyeuristic degradation.

"I guess." Goku shrugged.

"You guess?" Piccolo spat.

"It's a start, but is it enough?"

"Yes Goku, it's enough!"

The End.

A/N I hope you enjoyed this very short story please consider showing your appreciation via a favourite or review and feel free to check out my other works. I recommend She's Everywhere it's DBZ Bulma and Vegeta related and super recently edited.