The next day, Val turned off her phone at 3 P.M., worried when Bulma kept texting and calling her a bunch after lunch. She felt guilty to do it, distracting her from her work as she also had to log out of the Capsule Corps system so Bulma would not see she was still working remotely. It left her little to do though and she had to call it a day by 6 P.M..

She milled around the house, picking at something for dinner, and cleaning to ease her boredom and distract her from the gnawing feeling in her stomach that made her want to turn her phone back on so bad. Piccolo had come back from training, and she could feel him watching her. "I'm not going to go," she swore at him, temper short.

He said nothing back, leaving her be as she settled down on the couch to watch something on the television, not able to focus on what she landed on while he showered and ate. She fiddled with her bracelets and necklace, more watching the time as the minutes dripped by slowly. She felt too tense, different from the tension she felt around Piccolo in the time she had been around him. This tension held only guilt.

The tension broke just after 8 P.M. She jumped up to stand, swearing under her breath. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She shook her head, going to the kitchen to boil the kettle and get something to drink for something to do. Her hands felt warm and sweaty. They shook when she made herself a cup of tea. She could feel Piccolo still looking at her. "What?" she said, turning to face him, hands on the counter that stood between them.

He made eye contact with her, but did not say anything beyond grunting. Then he jumped up, moving quickly to the front window of the house, pushing back the curtains there. She looked out the window as well, stomach sinking. She saw and sensed Vegeta standing by Goku's house, going in there in a huff.

"No," she swore. Her hands got warmer, panic threatening to set in. She shook them out, managing not to burn anything. "I have to run-"

"Stay here," he commanded. "Stay hidden." He was out the front door, slamming it shut behind her.

She felt her hand shake as she tried to command them to stay cool. She ran her hands through her loose hair, feeling more nervous and apprehensive than she expected to with Vegeta being there. He had come for her. She pictured the fighter again, sword in hand. She slammed her hands down on the counter, holding back enough to avoid cracking it.

Piccolo was back, rushing into the house, shutting the front door behind him. He looked just as worried as she felt. She moved towards him fearfully. "I have to go, I can't, I can't, not with him, I have run-"

She went to go around him and out the door when he grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her around to face him. "You can't, he'll just follow you. Better here than anywhere else to face him."

"Why's he here?" she asked pointlessly. She gripped his wrists, shaking her head. She closed her eyes, barely noticing in her current state that any other time she would like how close they were, the entirely different tension held and suppressed between them.

"Val," he said her name so deeply and so softly. She blinked her eyes open, looking up at him. He leaned in closer. She raised her head higher to look up at him. "This is very important. You need to send him away. And as lonely as possible," he stated slowly and heavily. The gaze he pressed down upon her threatened to crush her.

"Why?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"I can't tell you," he answered.

She yanked herself out of his hold. "Can't or won't?" she asked, temper spiking. "It's something to do with the future, isn't it?" She looked out the front window, seeing Vegeta with Goku arguing outside. She rounded back on Piccolo. "Tell me the future."

"Val," he used a warning tone.

"All of it and I'll do this," she offered.

They both looked outside the window, seeing Vegeta had taken a few steps closer to the house. Goku was not able to keep him away. He threw a look of sheer panic over at the house, hands in his hair. "No," he countered.

"5 questions," she countered.

"No," he shook his head.

"3 questions," she said, seeing Vegeta getting a bit closer. It that or nothing and she did not want to settle on nothing.

"If you succeed, 3," he relented. She blinked up at him, surprised he conceded. "Send him back to Capsule Corps. Lonely."

She nodded. "Right then, I will," she promised, entirely unsure how she was going to manage that. He started to walk away, up the stairs to the loft he stayed. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked, annoyed by the sight of him leaving her to face Vegeta on her own. She shook her hands out in annoyance, stumbling her way towards the front door. She reached it right before Vegeta did, yanking it open and then barring the way should he try to come in. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to look and sound as annoyed and menacing as she could manage. "You're not welcome here."

He looked at her, a more truly menacing and annoyed look on his face. Matching that with amount of strength that was rolling off of him made for an intimidating combination. "Came looking for you when you didn't bother to show up earlier to the smart woman's summons," he answered.

"I never agreed to come," she answered, shaking her head.

He looked at her, reaching over to grab her by the collar, but not touching her necklace. "It's not too late for you to come tonight," he said, pulling her towards him.

She felt her stomach cringe first and then her whole self. She slipped herself out of his grip and then took a few steps back into the house. He followed her into the house. "Get out," she commanded.

He stepped closer, closer than she felt comfortable with. Her whole self rebel against being so close to him like this. He looked around the house. "Made yourself quite a little nest here for a bird," he commented. "Hiding out here, still moping over that weakling?" She scowled at him, trying to think of a way to get him to leave. "Beats you moping over the one cursed."

She went to slap him at that, but he caught her wrist. "You need to leave," she stated, pulling her wrist out of his hold.

"Why?" he asked, stepping close, too close. He seemed cringe ever so slightly as well, but held his ground.

She stepped back, half hiding behind the couch, mouth dry. He should not be this close. Not him. She remembered the fighter, refusing to let that happen. "Because I don't want you here," she stated. She looked back at the door to her bedroom and then over to the stairs that lead to the loft, debating which room she should flee to if she had to. Her mind settled on the loft.

"Fine, I'll leave, but you're going with me," he ordered.

"No," she refused, even if she felt tempted to give in. "Why should I?"

"It's for the smart woman more than yourself or me," he answered vaguely.

"I'm not going with you," she refused.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Why should I?" she countered.

He grunted. "I'll explain more when were a distance from that ease dropper you've got hiding up the stairs."

She remembered what Piccolo told her to do, to send him away lonely. "Leave! I don't want to be around you anymore!" she shouted the lie and then fed it with her desire to not be so close to him. "I was stuck with you for years on a spaceship and then stuck with you in Capsule Corps! I don't want to be stuck with you anymore!" He looked taken aback by her statement. "You're an undermining, spoiled prince, son of greedy king who would just take whatever he wanted when he wanted, from a race of brutes," she choked out, trying to think of things to attack that would make him vulnerable.

She struggled with it, tempted to end it at that and did. She gripped the back of the couch, not looking at him. She hated herself for saying what was not true. She refused to look back up at him, even though she could feel him looking at her. The temptation to go with him was still there, just to find out what he was after. He was stronger than he ever been since she had known him. She figured he was likely smarter than Goku and had seemed to close the gap between the two while she was away. At the rate he was going, she figured he could do surpass him in a few months. She gripped the couch tighter, worried she might burn it. He was not leaving like he needed to. He had to leave. She thought of the fighter again, refusing to let herself ask the question in her mind about him. She could not think of anything else to say or do to get him to leave that she dared to say out loud. Did not even want to try anymore. "I'm not going anywhere with you. Especially with no explanation. Leave," she said softly, without heart.

"Not without you," he insisted.

They both straightened up when they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. She looked up, seeing Piccolo down to them, shirtless. The only thing he wore was a pair of pants that hung low around his hips. She let go of the couch lest she burn it, watching him approach. She stood up straighter, telling herself not to stare, but finding herself unable to not blink. "Chimera, what's taking you so long?" he asked, voice so deep that she could feel it reverberate in her chest. Her abs drew tighter.

He kept moving, coming closer and closer to her. He stepped so close she could feel the heat coming off of him, but she kept herself from drawing away with Vegeta there watching the two of them. He stepped so close, coming up behind her, and wrapping his hands around her shoulders and upper chest, pulling her back against him. Her back went against his chest, her lower back almost flinching away when she felt something hard press against her. She tightened her resolve in time with him tightening his grip on her chest and shoulders. "He won't leave," she said, leaning her head back against him and playing along, finding it all to easy to do. "He just came in here, trying to order me around to go back with him without much explanation as to why, but I'm not going with him," she added firmly, turning her head up to look at him. His lips were where her eyes landed. Her first thoughts was inappropriate, but her second thought was that might help their current situation. He one of his hands up, using his index finger to prompt her to raise her chin up higher so her gaze met his eyes. She turned around in his grip, leaning her head and one hand against his chest. "Make him leave," she requested, eyes closed so as to not look at either of them. She felt hot, especially in her hands, but she held herself close, trying to remember it was all supposed to be a ploy to get Vegeta to leave. Did not mean it was not tempting.

His hand was on the back of her neck in a guarding manner. "What more is there to say to get you to leave?" he asked, tone brokering no nonsense. The tension between the three of them seem to rachet up to the point when she felt the temptation to give in, admit the lies, and just go with him to get away from it. "Unless you care to join us?" he added.

She felt herself jump, almost laughing at the undesirable suggestion. His grip around her tightened, keeping her from breaking away or giving away what had to be a bluff. She heard Vegeta grunt in disgust at the suggestion, making her feel sick at the thought. "That's not why I'm here," she heard Vegeta hiss. "She's..." he ended with a growl. "You can have her," he added, breaths and voice coming in spurts. "And you, bird... you turn on your phone. You answer it." He took a few steps back, throwing at them one last thought, "and that wasn't the name the other one used."

She heard him turn to leave, slamming the door behind her. It was only when she sensed him fly off that she let herself break away half unwillingly from the heat. She turned and leaned herself over the back of the couch, breathing heavily. Her face and her hands felt hot. "I hurt him," she choked out.

"It worked," he answered.

She turned around, leaning her back against the couch. "I didn't want to hurt him," she responded. "You owe me three questions about the future, so why did I have to send him away?" she asked her first question.

He stood up taller stepping a bit closer. She straightened up. "You remember the fighter from the future?" he asked back.

"Oh no," she sighed, closing her eyes and trying not to guess where this was going. She opened her eyes, not looking at him.

"Vegeta's his father," he answered.

"No," she released. "No, no, no, no, no," she repeated. "He can't be, I can't be, I won't. I'm his mother?" she rushed out, words and fears tumbling out without thought. "I'm not, sure I can't be, not with him, no." She saw him shake his head once out of the corner of her eye. "I can't, I wouldn't, not with him," she swore. Everything in her seemed to rebel at the idea. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down enough to ask her second question. "Whose the mother?"

"Not you," he answered. "Bulma."

She brought her hands to her face, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness..." she breathed out, feeling a rush of relief. She brought both hands around the cord of her necklace on either side of her neck. She took her time to think over it, a new set of shock setting in, making her wonder at Bulma being the future fighter's mother, making her feel a twinge of jealousy that she would certainly have a child while she had been taught by her mother all Anthromorphs should a duty to save another race from extinction. Then she smiled to herself, thinking back to the encounters the two of them had had around her, finding her own approval in her relief. The comments they had made about each other to her... "Wait..." she thought out loud. "I'm not saying I want anything to do with... him," she squirmed at the thought, "like that... but," she thought carefully. How he had come for her minutes ago to get her to come back, how Bulma said he had missed her and was lonely, how he seemed to recoil in time with her, yet still pushed her to go with him. She asked her third question, "why wasn't I an option?" She blinked up at him as she asked.

He shook his head, suddenly irritable. "You've already asked three questions," he claimed.

"What? No," she rounded on him, stepping toe to toe with him. "That was my third question. Why wasn't I an option for him?"

He stood up taller, all while looking down at her. He ticked off each question with his fingers. "You asked why you to send Vegeta away. You asked if you were the mother. You asked whose the mother. That was three."

She stared up at him ruefully. "The second one doesn't count. I was just rambling," she ruled. "Why wasn't I an option for him?" she repeated. He hummed in annoyance under his breath, still not answering. "I don't want to be, I never want to be, but I want to know why." She stepped up to him, fists pounding against his chest. "This was just a ploy to get him to leave to?" she asked, looking him up and down, feeling the temptation pick up. She bit her lip, but quickly let it go at the sight of him. She loosened her hands up, laying them flat on his chest. She looked at his chest. He felt hand come to below her jaw making her raise her head up to look at him.

"He left," he answered, eyes lingering on her lips. His thumb came across her lower lip. The way he touched her, she wondered if that was a ploy to get her to drop the question. She wanted to do the opposite of pull away.

She looked up at him, drawing his eyes to hers. "Why wasn't I an option?" she asked again. She stomped her foot on the floor to emphasize she wanted the question answered.

His hand on her jaw firmed up. "You already asked three questions," he repeated.

"I sent him away," she pointed.

"Not without my help. That's worth only two questions only then," he countered.

She pulled out of his grip on her jaw and looked back over at the front door. She felt colder when she did that. "I will go get him. I will bring him back here. I will keep him away from her. Then it will be me instead," she threatened. "Unless you answer my third question."

"You're bluffing," he said accurately. She turned, pulled away from him, and headed towards the door. "Kiri," he growled her name out.

He grabbed her by the wrist and forearm, yanking her back in front of him. She matched his grip, feeling the heat between the two of them. "Let me go," she commanded, scowling up at him, determined to get the third answer out of him. His grip only tightened up while his mouth stayed firmly shut.

She yanked on her arm, pulling him closer as he tightened his grip on her. She matched it, throwing herself up on the balls of her feet to reach high enough to kiss him. Part of her hoped that would make him give up the third answer, part of her thought he would pull in disgust equal to what Vegeta would do if she kissed him, but the part that won out was the hope that he would kiss back.

He did just that, and then some. He tightened his grip on her wrist. He brought his free hand up to her jaw. She lead in the kiss, but his reactions were an odd mix of yielding, hesitant, and clumsy. All those were eclipsed by an overwhelming feel of temptation. She found it almost amusing that he lacked his usual confidence he had when they fought and trained together. She resolved to kissing him until he gave up and answered her, but she felt like the answer was growing less and less important now. She dug her nails into the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. She pressed herself closer to him, waiting for him to break away first, almost stubborn about trying to get him to do it. Her hand slipped from his neck to chest, which she felt him flinch at the heat of her touch.

Her neck started to feel sore. She pulled away reluctantly, going back down to the flats of her feet. His followed hers, but she pulled away enough that he paused before her. She pulled her hand away from his grip, joining it on his chest and sliding them down to the front of his ribs, feeling his breathing in time. She could feel his heartbeat pounding almost as hard as her own.

She felt a confusing mix of hesitancy and desire that was in dissonance with her own current feelings. She pushed through it, pushing him back until he was against the wall. She leaned back up, nails digging into his sides. She pressed up against him, bringing her mouth back up to his. He hesitated and sank down into the kiss. Just as he did, she pulled back, lowering herself down just enough to go after his neck, gently at first, which he hummed at.

Then she bit him, which made him growl. She scratched down from his ribs to top of his pants. He caught her hands, not quite pulling her off of him. She could feel his hands shake. She hummed against his neck, going softer but more attentive. She kept touching him, waiting for him to pull back and give up. Instead he dropped his hold on her hands, almost pushing them down in challenge. She found herself hesitating in turn. He would give in first, she determined. She would win.

She reached her right hand down to the hem of his pants. She danced her hand along the edge, seeing and enjoying his reactions. He hissed and grunted, but did not stay her hand. She teased just the tips of her fingers under the hem then back over the top edge of it. She slipped her hand down his left leg, running it along the top and outside of his thigh. Then along the top and inside of his thigh. He growled, flinching at her touch. She slid her hand up to the hem of his pants. She paused, waiting for him to stop her. Instead he was almost leaning against her, hand coming to the side of her head without catching any of her hairs. She felt the hesitancy and desire heat up between the two of them. She inched her hand down the hem at the front of his pants. She felt him lean further down against her, forehead resting against hers. She felt desire win out. He nodded against her just once, sliding his legs apart wider. She wrapped her hand around his cock, sliding against it before rubbing along it, trying not to let her hands heat up too much against him. He leaned more heavily against her, mouth coming clumsily to hers in between his growls.

She smiled to herself, halting in her movements. He leaned more against her. She stepped back, slipping herself away from him and out of reach. He stumbled forward, looking down at her in a mix of annoyance, lust, and frustration. He was not backing down, but rather gave in and was rising up to the challenge she issued. She smirked at him, stepping back up to him, both hands pulling his pants down only half way down his thighs. She sank to her knees, taking him into her mouth. He gnashed his teeth at that. She sucked on him, feeling his hand come to the side of her jaw, nails digging into her neck when he finished.

She pulled away from his grip on her jaw, leaning back on her hunches. He sunk down to his knees before her, leaning towards her. She had won against him, but not the way she had wanted to, leading to her half not understanding what she was feeling. She rolled back and up to her feet, wanting something to drink. She went to the kitchen, picking up her abandoned tea, sipping at its now tepid flavor. She saw him move, drawing her attention. She flicked her eyes up to look at him, watching him pull his pants back up and stepped into the kitchen with her while she drank down the tea. She debated how she could get the answer out of him yet, finding less and less value in it. She sat the tea down unfinished, watching him move, smirking at him as she reached down to the end of her shirt and pulling it off. She tossed it away. It had a desirable effect. She felt a snap leading to a surrender of control. "Why wasn't I-"

He was on her, stopping her from asking the question. His hands were on her sides under her ribs, one hand covering over the scars he left there. He pressed her back almost painfully against the counter, leaning heavily against her. He kissed her clumsily, pressing against her. She felt he had already grown harder in the time it took him to get over to her. She reached under her bra, removing it as well. His eyes lingered down at her chest. His hands moved up, gripping her breasts, one in each hand, moving them around. She gasped as she felt his nails dig into her tender flesh, making him hum. She did not want him to win. She brought her hands to the hem of him pants, trying to shove them down off of him. He let her, as much as her hands would allow with him pressed against her, hardly letting up. He had her pinned and she could not pull away, even if she wanted to.

He slipped his hands down lower, picking her up, and shoving her down onto the cold countertop. She flinched at the cold on her lower back. She reached down to the hem of her pants hastily, starting to undo them. He stopped her, seizing her hands. He seemed to hesitate again, undesirably so. She brought herself back upright, pulling him closer. She could tell he was harder. She tried to yank her hands out of his grip to get to her pants, but he would not let her go. She scowled up at him, not wanting him to win. She pulled harder at her hands, kicking with her legs around him. She bucked her hips up against his, enjoying the sound of him hissing through his teeth. She pressed herself closer, going after him that way. She felt her arousal build up from it as well. He growled down at her. She bared her teeth at him.

He let her hands go, but moved quickly, too quick for her to fight back or slip away. He yanked her pants and panties off in one go, making her flinched as his nails scraped against her legs. He was up, picking her up and set her down on the counter once more, front shoved to the cold surface this time. He pressed against her and she hummed up at him. She rocked her hips up on him, eyes closed. She reached back to grab him, but could not quite. She pulled her hand back, mad that she could not reach him at all. She kept her hips moving, pressing against him best she could from behind. He seemed to pick up on the movements, going in time with her. He rubbed against her, making her hotter and hotter. She hummed, not wanting to give into him nor let him win. She tried to get up, but he pressed her down, not allowing her to get up. She another drop in self control. She kipped up at him, feeling him pressed against her at the same time. He gave in, acting on the tension she had felt simmering between the two of them for far too long. She felt him slide inside of her with an unexpected grunt. He felt he go deep, fast, and hard, too much of each. She winced, gnashing her teeth as he kept going. His hands gripped her hips, nails digging into her. She felt hotter and hotter, wanting to finish, but the way he was going was too hard to get her quite there. His rhythm was too off beat for her to match.

She beat her fist down on the counter, trying to figure out what to do about it. She reached her hand down between her legs, starting to tease herself to get herself there. She felt herself growing closer at that. Yet then he grabbed her by the forearm, yanking her hand away from between her legs. She swore, bucking against him to get herself away.

She felt him grunt, pulling away. The second she could, she got up and rounded on him. She hopped down from the counter and punched against his chest. She looked at him, panting heavily. "I want to finish, too," she insisted.

He looked down at her, pulled her close, and then shoved her down to the floor, wild, out of control look about him. He moved to get down on top of her. She grabbed for him, pulling him as he moved readily. He was on top and inside of her so fast that she cried out. His hand came down on her mouth. She bit him, which made let go with a disgruntled shake. She reached her hand down between them, stubbornly, teasing herself once more. She felt him moan and slow down as she did that. "Don't slow down," she insisted.

He sped back up, going almost unmanageably hard. Her back protested against being slammed into on the hard floor, but she kept going. She panted loudly, tightening against him, trying to finish with his rough, out of control pace. She kipped her hips, feeling her finish with a bit of difficulty. She pulled her hand away, laying down and humming against him submissively. He brought his mouth down to her shoulder, biting down on it so hard he broke the skin. She cried out, feeling him finish himself at that.

He pushed himself off of her in a rush as she laid still, panting on the cold, hard floor. She rolled to curl up into a ball, center feeling a sweet soreness that reminded her it had been a while. She would have stayed laying down longer, but felt a wet stickiness on her shoulder sliding against her neck and hair, prompting her to sit up. She pushed herself up by her hands, legs still curled to the side. She pulled her hair off her shoulder, seeing two puncture marks there. She wiped at them, not worrying at it. They would heal on their own and would be easy to cover up.

She looked over at him, seeing him lean against one of the lower cupboards with his eyes closed. She opened her mouth to tease him for the bite like it was a win, but she still her mouth and looked him over. She suddenly felt a nervous, sinking feeling when she looked between his legs. "You didn't wear anything?" she blurted out the question, feeling panic rise up the back of her throat. Not yet, she thought to herself. Not before the androids and heart virus were defeated.

He opened his eyes, looking over at her. "Wasn't that the point?" he asked back, sounding more confused than anything else.

She swore under her breath. "I mean a condom," she said, thinking over what just happened, how she had also got swept away in the situation. She thought of the unopened box of condoms in her nightstand. She then thought of the birth control in the bathroom's medicine cabinet.

She pulled herself up with a groan, still sore. She stumbled away from the kitchen and into the bathroom. She pulled the mirror cabinet back, pulling out the birth control Bulma had taught her about, and what to do in an emergency: two now, two twelve hours later. She took out two, bringing them both up to her mouth to swallow them together. She winced at the bitter, chalky taste. She turned on the sink, cupping some water to drink to wash away the taste. She turned off the water and closed the mirror cabinet.

She jumped, nearly dropping the birth control into the sink, when she saw he was standing behind her. She gave him a cursory glance before going to step around him. He stopped her, hand on her forearm, pulling it up to take a closer look at the birth control without taking it away from her. "What is this?" he asked.

"Birth control," she answered. "I don't want a child, at least not until the androids and virus coming are defeated." She watched him study the medicine, but also found her gaze drifting and lingering else where. She felt her chest flush as her thoughts strayed. She shook her head and brought her attention back on him. "How do you not know about that? You grew up on this planet." She studied him, and then it clicked in her mind, making her gasp. "You've never... before..." she hummed out.

She drew her ears back, not sure how to react appropriately. She pulled her arm out of his hold. She sat the medicine down on the edge of the sink behind her. The tension between them seemed to build up anew. She warred against it, rising up on the balls of her feet to kiss him. She sank to her feet before him. She brought her hands up to his chest, palms and fingers flat. She looked up at him expectantly, hands curling to grip him, not waiting to let him go after finally getting him this way. "Why do you want one?" he asked her.

She shook her head, starting to recite anew what her mother taught her, "it's an Anthromorph's duty to keep another race going, to save them from extinction."

He brought his hand under her jaw, guiding her gaze up at him. "Why do you want one?" he repeated.

She shook her head as best she could in his hold. "I don't understand," she said, blinking up at him. She put her hands flat against him. "It's expected of me, as it would be for any Anthromorph."

"But do you want to?" he asked again. She frowned, sliding her jaw out of his hold to look down and away. The thought had never occurred to her, but sounded unallowable. She could go either way with it. "The Demon Clan needs to die out lest it destroy another peaceful planet. The risk not worth it," he half reminded, half forewarned her.

She nodded, not sure how to respond. "What about the Anthromorphs...?" she asked nervously, not wanting to give him up after this impromptu romp. She was not sure if she wanted to give up a chance of a child either. Her hands felt warmer, betraying her turmoil, but she held fast to him.

"Is that a guarantee?" he asked. She shifted her gaze back up at him. "Even then, a bit of the other parent gets in," he recalled what she had told him before.

She hummed under her breath, puzzling through it. "We should worry about the virus and androids for now... afterwards..." she hummed out. She felt a pull of desire come from her, but a desire yet reluctance out of tune with how she felt wash up in her briefly. "I know how you feel?" she asked, frowning in confusion.

His hand came to her side, matching his nails to the scars there. "Strong emotions or a close proximity seem to trigger it," he explained. "A weak connection was made when I passed my energy on to you to keep you alive. Nothing like the life link I share with the old man."

"So if you die, I won't die," she named. He nodded. "So you know how much I hate you right now?" she teased.

"That's not exactly how you're feeling," he said back confidently.

Feeling... she thought over the evening events, mind considering her argument with Vegeta and getting him to leave... "So, I wasn't a choice with him..." she started, thinking out loud more than anything else.

"Kiri," he said her name like a warning.

"Not like that," she rushed out. "It's because he knew me before I grew, isn't it? When I looked like a child," she landed on, finding her inference disappointing, but logical. She smirked to herself. "That's not too upsetting."

She looked up at him, trying to gauge how he looked and how he felt, sensing the reasoning was a bit off, but a bit worth pursuing, like he was. She curled her nails into his chest, trying to determine where this would go with him and how to keep it up.

"Worry about preparing for the androids and virus for now," he said, hands coming to pull hers into his. "See what you truly want after that."

She tightened her grip on his hands, channeling her determination into her emotions loud enough for him to sense. She sensed guarded blankness back.