Chapter Two: Vegeta and Bulma

Bulma sighed as she raked her fingers through her thick sea-blue mane. She stealthily crept away from the crib where her only son was fast asleep. It had taken forever to quiet him down for the night. Bulma wondered if her infant somehow sensed what was going to happen the next morning. He had been cranky all day, clinging to her or anyone else that he could grab a hold of.

Bulma quietly shut the nursery door behind her. When she turned around, she almost ran straight into Mirai no Trunks. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

"You okay, Mom?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Just a little stressed." She glanced down and saw that he held the baby monitor that normally sat on her bedside table. She pointed down at it. "What are you doing with that?"

Trunks glanced down a little guiltily. "I figured that you needed a break. You're nerves are shot. You need a good night's rest. So I was going to keep this in my room and take care of the munchkin tonight," he explained.

Bulma smiled weakly. "I'm not going to be sleeping tonight either way."

The teenager peered at her curiously. "You're worried about Dad, aren't you?"

"I really could care less where he is right now. I mean, with it possibly being the last night that any of us are alive, he just might want to spend it with the only family he has, but then again, that's just me…"

Trunks held his hand up. "Mom. You might want to go check in your room." The teenager then moved off down the hallway towards the spare room that he was currently staying in.

Bulma felt her heart skip a beat. For a moment, she let the romantic in her hope for a small miracle. She hurried towards her bedroom. She threw the door open and held her breath.

She expected the room to be empty. No matter how much she wanted him to be there, she knew she would only be kidding herself to hope in anything else. He wasn't supposed to be standing there.

But he was.

Vegeta raised a regal eyebrow and stared at her. He put down the picture that he had been looking at. It was a photo that Dr. Briefs had taken of Bulma and Trunks the day that they had come home from the hospital. Slowly, Vegeta turned back to his mate.

"What the hell are you doing here?" gasped Bulma.

Vegeta didn't answer. He was a prince; he didn't have to. Instead, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. His lips met hers in a crushing kiss.

For a brief moment, Bulma allowed herself to be swept away in the taste of his mouth. Tears seeped past her tightly shut eyelids. How many lonely nights had she dreamt of this? Of being held by him once more, of being loved by him.

It was a foolish dream.

Bulma roughly shoved the Saiyan away from her. "Bastard! What are you doing here?"

Her lips trembled as more tears flowed down her cheeks. She choked back a sob, refusing to allow him to see he had this affect on her. He was her weakness. Her only one.

"Woman, why are you crying?" whispered Vegeta, brushing away a tear with his gloved hand.

"Don't touch me," hissed Bulma, batting away his hand.

"That's not what you said last time," replied the prince with a superior smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah. Last time. When I got pregnant and you ran off into space." Anger burned in Bulma's intense blue eyes. "You left me, Vegeta. How dare you expect to just waltz back into my life?"

The proud Saiyan actually winced. "You wouldn't understand…"

"No, Vegeta, I wouldn't. Because you would never give me the chance to understand," spat the angry woman.


"Ugh! Can you not even call me by my proper name?" Bulma grasped her head in both hands, covering her ears. All those days she had spent longing for him to return to her, and now all she wanted was for him to go away again.


She started when she heard her name come from his lips. It sounded so strange. He had only called her that once before, during a most intimate moment. She hesitantly looked up to meet his eyes. They were no longer blank, obsidian slates. A small glimmer of emotion haunted them. Fresh tears began to drip down Bulma's face.

"I need you," she whispered.

Vegeta pulled her into his arms. Her entire body was shaking. "Woman, what is it?" he whispered.

"Please don't leave me," she begged as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "I need you so much."

Vegeta snorted. "I'm a Super Saiyan," he bragged. "The green grasshopper is as good as dead tomorrow."

Bulma giggled and pulled away. "You arrogant bas…"

She was broken off by Vegeta's lips softly, imploringly kissing her mouth. This time she didn't hesitate to kiss him back. No matter how hard she would fight, she would always love her monkey-prince. A lonely ache reminded her that tonight might be their last together. Might as well enjoy it.

Bulma didn't protest as Vegeta guided her over to her bed. A stray thought struck her that maybe after the Cell games it would be their bed. Maybe when this was all over, she wouldn't sleep alone. For a moment, she didn't care if it was all hopeful wishing. For now, she was his, and he was hers. And that was all that mattered.