Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. This was written as a gift to Spike's Savior.
"Mom how come you and dad don't sleep in the same room," asked the six year old Trunks.
The question caught the Capsule Corp. heiress off guard. The two were sitting in the living room while Bulma read over scientific research proposals to pick which ones she thought would be productive for Capsule Corp. and Trunks lay on this stomach in front of the T.V. playing a fighting game. Looking up from the paper she was reading, she glanced down at Trunks – who had paused his game and was staring at his mother with an intrigued expression.
"What are you talking about sweetie?" she asked, not sure if she'd heard the question right.
"I mean you and dad don't sleep in the same room," he sighed, sitting up with his legs Indian style and placed his arms to the floor to keep him from falling forward. "Grandma and Grandpa sleep in the same room and so do Goku and Mrs. Chichi." He paused, with a small frown. "Jimmy Carter said that his parents didn't sleep in the same room, then a few days later his mommy kicked his dad out of the house." He glanced back up at his mother, now with a worried expression.
Bulma's chest tightened. Her poor baby had been worried about her and Vegeta's relationship. But the answer to the question wasn't that easy. Vegeta had problems with sleeping, he usually only slept for a few hours before he was up again; it was a result of being under Frieza's rule. Sleeping meant you were unguarded, so he'd trained his body to only need a few hours and any slight movement or sound woke him. And she knew she was a wiggle worm in her sleep, so when he suggested they sleep in separate rooms she understood –others didn't.
Vegeta also had nightmares, it had scared Bulma senseless the first time she'd witnessed it. Vegeta hadn't been comforting about it either; he'd flat out yelled at her then stormed off. Then when she tried to confront him about it, he'd said that it was none of her business. So she'd dropped it knowing that it bothered him that she'd seen him in one of his weak moments. Thus the sleeping in separate rooms was a natural solution – even though Bulma felt a little lonely some nights.
It wasn't like they never had sex. Vegeta would come to her when he was in the mood, but he wouldn't stay the whole night with her. That had been a hardship in itself, getting Vegeta to trust her not to hurt him while she touched him intimately. It hurt sometimes, that when she was trying to give him something of herself – something special—that she could see the terror in his eyes as he was reminded of his childhood with Frieza. It made her ache for him and wish she could take it away. But he'd definitely gotten better in the last few years, but she knew that sometimes the memories still surfaced.
"Mom, why are you crying?" Trunks asked, worry evident in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Momma?" Trunks had gotten up from the floor and stood there wringing his hands.
"Oh baby," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. She hadn't realized she had started crying. It was so hard to tell your son that his father had been mentally scared as a child. She reached her arms out and pulled Trunks into her embrace, promising that he'd never have to go through what Vegeta had. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about how sad it was that Jimmy Carter must be that's all." Bulma cleared her throat, as she lied to her son. "You didn't make me cry. You were just curious." She pulled her son into her lap, and ruffled his hair. "I don't sleep in the same room as your father because he snores. It wakes me up in the night and I can't sleep."
"Dad…snores?" He looked doubtful.
Bulma laughed. "Yeap, so I'm not going to kick your father out of the house. Besides he practically lives in the gravity room, anyways." She tickled his sides, making him laugh. "No more frowning or worrying, alright?"
"Alright!" he chortled. "Alright, you win." Once he eased his way from her embrace he stood there. "I love you mom."
"Love you too scuttle butt," she replied, as she watched him run into the kitchen where Bulma's mom had just yelled that the fresh cookies were done. Leaning back against the sofa, Bulma rubbed her eyes of the last of her tears. She heard something to her right, where the stairs stood. Turning her head she frowned, not seeing anything but she could have sworn she heard someone over there.
"Must be more tired than I thought," she muttered, returning to the proposal she had been reading. Promising herself that it was the last one tonight, and then she could shower and go to bed.
Later that night, Bulma got out of the shower and pulled on her night shirt. It cut off mid thigh and was a simple cotton v-necked white shirt with grey poke-a-dots. Putting the towel in the dirty clothes hamper, she pulled down the chocolate brown down comforter and slipped into the big bed that had been made for two. Pulling the goose feather pillow to her side, she hugged it to herself pretending it was Vegeta.
She lay there not being able to fall asleep, even though she wanted to. It would seem that Trunks' question had affected her more than she cared to admit. It wasn't that she didn't understand his reasoning, but sometimes she wished he would sleep in her room. So she could hold him during his weak times, like he always did for her.
"Well," she muttered, getting up from the vast bed. "I guess I'll just have to go to him." Crossing the room, she entered the hall way and turned towards Vegeta's room. He'd picked the room at the end of the hall. Not bothering to knock, she opened the door – and was disappointed to find that Vegeta wasn't in his room. With a heartfelt sigh, she closed the door on the undisturbed room and went back to her room defeated.
Slipping back into bed, she felt something move on the bed. She shrieked.
"It's good to know that you don't just let anything in your bed," came an amused drawl.
"Vegeta!" she huffed, her hand coming to her rapidly beat heart. "You know there is a fine line between hate and love, and you are slowly slipping over the love side." Especially if he kept this up, he'd already scared ten years off her life, she was sure of. "What are you doing in here sneaking around?"
He didn't say anything, just pulled her into the bed next to him. Her face was plastered against his shirtless chest. His arms came around her and held her in place. Bulma sighed, and moved until she was comfortably pressed against him. He could be such a brute at times…but it was also sweet in a way. She reached her hands up, to play with his hair. It was something she enjoyed doing to him, that way she could gauge his reaction to tell what kind of mood he was in. If he just wanted to have sex, he'd push her hands down and roll her over onto her back. If he was playful, he'd nip at her wrists. Then there were those few times where he just allowed her to do what she wished, and only wanted the comfort of being near her.
She looked up at his face; he wasn't looking at her, and tried to catch his eyes. She wanted to know if he was in the past or the present. "Vegeta?" she asked, brining her hands down to rest atop his chest, and then placed her chin on them. "Is something wrong?"
At last he turned towards her, his eyes molting with desire and something else – amusement she thought. He leaned his head down, barely covering her lips with his. "The prince of Saiyan does not snore," he breathed, then kissed her – a deep open mouth kiss that left her breathless and pooling with desire.
"And how would you know?" she retorted, trying to hold back a smile. So he had seen. "You can't possible listen to yourself when you sleep."
"The Saiyan royalty does not snore," he replied, with arrogance. "You on the other hand are a different matter."
"Are you saying that I snore?" she questioned, pushing against his chest her eyes narrowing at him. "And you better watch it; I can and will kick you out of my bed." No she wouldn't. She might threaten to do so, but it was so few times that he stayed with her that she'd never be that cruel.
Vegeta gave an undignified snort at her remark. They knew how would win when it came down to strength. Once the playful words disappeared, it became quite again. Bulma lay back down – only this time she lay atop him. She could feel him tense then relax after several minutes. She bit her lip, not sure if she should speak or just leave things be. "Is that why you're here?" she asked, knowing that she had to say it, even if she didn't want to. "To reassure Trunks that you're not going to leave?"
"No," he replied, quietly. "He's old enough to understand our relationship."
She hesitated, raising her hand to push her hair behind her ear slowly. "Then …"
"Me?" she asked, looking up at him. She watched as he reached a hand out, his fingers pressing softly against her cheek.
"I made you cry," he said softly. Her heart clenched. "I've not been very honorable to you."
"Vegeta," she sighed, pushing his hand from her face so she could encircle her arms around his neck. "You are beyond honorable to me….I understand. I do."
"I'm not a coward," he said harshly.
"I know," she breathed, tears forming in her eyes. "Believe me I know." If he was a coward, he wouldn't have been able to survive what he'd been through. His arms came to hesitantly wrap around her.
"I'll not have the past keep me from being honorable to you….from hurting you," he whispered, his head pressing against the crook of her neck. His arms tightening around her fragile body.
"Vegeta…." Tears fell from her eyes. "You don't have to prove anything to me. I love you." God, it was good to hear him say this. She hadn't realized how useless -- helpless she felt when it came to trying to heal him. Leaning her head back, she pressed her lips against his, her eyes closing as she poured everything she had into this one kiss. He grasped at her like a dying man to life.
"He'll not win." She heard him whisper, as his kiss became possessive. She felt one of his hands slide down the side of her body, ripping the underwear from her. Her hands laced through his hair, pulling him closer to her. Their mouths not once stopping from the frantic kissing, as he kicked the covers down; reveling that he'd been naked underneath. There was no foreplay – Bulma was already wet for him-- as he entered her.
The blue haired genius' eyes flared. Not once had Vegeta ever allowed her to be atop him during sex. He'd always been the one in control, even as he allowed her to touch him. She broke away from the kiss to look down at him. She could see his jaw clenching from pleasure and the strain of blocking memories. Her heart expanded, at the act. She smiled down at him, as she kept up with the rhythm he'd set—fast paced and deep.
She climaxed with a wordless cry. Her body shook from it, as she fell forward to lie against him as she recovered. Vegeta thrust against her once, twice, and then came. He gave a breathless grunt, as his seed shot into her. His muscles twitched as he began to start breathing normally again. Bulma was placing small kisses against his neck. "Vegeta…" she sighed in satisfaction.
"Go to sleep," he whispered, as his hand reached down to pull the comforter up over their cooling bodies. "I'm not going anywhere." She could hear the unspoken 'not anymore' in his voice and knew things would be better now.
"Goodnight Vegeta," she yawned, her eyes already closed, as she positioned herself to where she was more comfortably laid out on him. She drifted off just as she felt his hand intertwine through her hair, stroking the semi long strands.