DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fanfic. DBZ and its characters belong to Akira Toriyama blah blah blah...I don't own it!
A/N: This is my first try at writing a fanfic. Constructive criticism is greatly welcomed.
It was too early in the morning for this foolishness. Granted, he rose early enough to accomplish more in the few hours before dawn than most humans would all week.
Merely awaking early did not make him a morning person though. He'd learned long ago that rising late, even if he literally conquered the world with time to spare, was perceived as laziness. And in Frieza's army laziness was almost on par with mutiny.
Stubborn as he was, sometimes it only took one beating to convince him of his error.
Back then he looked at it as a challenge, another task to add to the growing list on how to perfect self-denial. And everybody knows a good saiyan loves a challenge.
Now it was more of a habit. It did nothing to help his mood though; not that anything would. So when he walked into the kitchen, after a particularly grueling morning of training, his mood took a nose dive seeing baldy and the weakling sitting down at the table eyeing his food cooking on the stove.
"Good morning sweetie!" Mrs. Briefs greeted in a singsongy voice.
Her ever chipper attitude at any time of the day was enough to make him want to protest against it in defiance, just out of principal.
"Hn." He responded before casting a dark gaze upon the two interlopers at his table.
"Morning Vegeta." Krillin chuckled as the prince yanked open the refrigerator door.
"Vegeta." Yamcha greeted in kind. Quietly of course. Just soft enough so the temperamental prince knew that he had acknowledged him...heaven forbid he ever repay the sentiment. Next to the Briefs, he'd spent more time with him than any of his other friends had combined while dating Bulma. So he was well acquainted with the saiyan's attitude in the morning.
Ignoring them he emerged from the refrigerator with a large pitcher of water, his name etched onto one side. Ten seconds and a few quick, audible gulps later the pitcher was drained.
"...man..." Krillin whispered in amazement, "Remind me to get on Vegeta's team next time Roshi has a drinking game."
Still standing in front of the fridge, the prince hardly extended his wrist, which held the empty pitcher, out before it was cheerily intercepted by Mrs. Briefs, who twirled back to the sink to refill it, all without missing a beat.
"As soon as you've had your shower we'll have breakfast dear!" She sang out to his retreating back.
Before exiting all the way he looked back over his shoulder. Singling out Krillin, he narrowed his eyes into slits, snarling silently at the fool.
"Oh man, what the heck did I do?" Krillin lamented.
"I warned you to sit next to me when we came in." Yamcha smirked happy not to be on the receiving end of Vegeta's ire in the morning.
"Awe, I thought you were just messing with me" He stammered quickly positioning himself as far away from the claimed chair as possible.
"Krillin, seriously," Yamcha began his face expressionless. Inwardly cringing as he reminded himself of his former girlfriend, "You should know by now from the moment we cross those gates that any subtle hints I drop around here are probably going to save your life. Especially this early in the morning." He added bitterly.
Clutching the sides of the dresser, Vegeta stared at the mirror, replaying how his training session was abruptly ended.
He deflected a large ki blast that resumed its wild trajectory, bouncing of the walls. Being flanked by a bot he attempted to flip into the air, regained control of the stray energy ball before briefly using the ceiling as a launching pad, hurling the blast through the surrounding bots.
It was simple.
That is until he sensed those two fools, not only together, but rapidly approaching the compound.
That lapse in concentration made him forget about the sweat puddle he left when he was previously cornered and tried standing his ground against the full bot fleet. With a surprised grunt he felt his feet carry him further than he calculated. He recovered his balance momentarily but by then it was too late.
How could I be so careless!
Gingerly he lifted the edge of his shirt, turning slightly to the side, revealing a giant bruise.
Could have been worse... He reflected bitterly. The woman and her father both proclaimed to be geniuses yet in all their touted wisdom they had place the brains of the graviton, the console, in the center of his training room.
Pissed blood for a week after slamming into that thing.
Granted the GR was initially designed to be a ship not a saiyan gymnasium but he couldn't help but to wonder why neither of them bothered to fix this glaring issue. Both humans upgraded and moved things around in the room countless times yet the console remained. The woman gave him some vague excuse as to why it had to stay put. If it weren't for the fact that the hunk of junk operated the whole room he would have done some saiyan remodeling. He smirked at the memory.
Vegeta didn't know how he managed to get tangled up in the chairs surrounding the vid screen but he made sure it was the last time. The woman woke up at an unusually early time screaming her head off, pounding on the GR door. Apparently she received a call from one of the Capsule Corpse employee informing her about the new decorations Vegeta thoughtfully planted in the wet cement of the driveway. Well at least the cement was wet at the time of his planting; he graciously had the foresight to ki dry the entire area effectively barring entrance and exit to the employee parking lot.
A sharp stabbing pain at his side refocused his mind as he turned his attention back to his injuries. He was going to finish assessing the damage when he heard the shower spray stop and the curtains being drawn to the side. Quickly he pulled his shirt back down. Although he regretted his long sleeve choice he was happy it was his favorite color.
It helped camouflage the growing blood stains on his side.
Hearing her twisting the knob to the bathroom door he quickly opened a drawer pretending to be searching for something.
What on earth is he doing? She mused smiling as he blindly searched through her panty drawer.
"Hey handsome, find anything interesting in there?" She teased coming up to him from behind.
"Hn, what are you going on abo-" Looking down he saw his wrist ensnared by a petite red lacy thong. Startled he shook his hand quickly to free his appendage and hissed at yet another lapse in concentration.
"Well now, the way you shook your hand, you'd swear I have cooties."
Although the woman's freshly showered scent often left him confused. He could tell by her low, sultry voice now what she was feeling as her breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. Hearing a soft thud behind him suddenly made him forget about the pain raging down his side.
Turning around to face his mate he couldn't help the smile that tugged the corner of his lips.
Maybe it would be a good morning after all.
"So what are you two boys going to be helping Bulma with today? Oh, this is so exciting I can hardly wait!" The dizzy blonde squealed as she arranged another pan full of ham onto a platter.
"Well there goes the last member of Oolong's species...such senseless genocide." Krillin laughed looking back at Yamcha for support.
"She said she needs some extra muscle in the lab today." Yamcha stated still chuckling under his breath at his friend's comment.
"That's weird," The blonde pause, tapping her chin in reflection. "That dear, sweet Vegeta usually helps her out when she needs something moved."
Rolling his eyes Yamcha sighed, "Yeah well she said he would be 'busy' and this was kind of important and couldn't wait." He sipped his orange juice trying to remember he wasn't supposed to feel or sound bitter anymore.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU VEGETA!"
Krillin immediately jumped to his feet ready to run to Bulma's aid when he notice Yamcha wasn't backing him up. Instead he continued to polish off the rest of his juice and not even Mrs. Briefs who was balancing several large breakfast platters flinched at her daughter's loud scream.
"Speak of the devil." The scar face warrior mumbled again.
"I take it that was normal then." Krillin laughed nervously, sitting back down.
"Oh you know those two." Mrs. Briefs said as she continued to load the table down before pausing with a slightly confused look. "I do hope Vegeta makes it down here before all of this food gets cold. It be ashamed for it to go to waste...Maybe I should get the warmers out..." she trailed off.
"To waste. You've got to be kidding me. I'll gladly help myself..."Krillin quietly joked.
"Remember that other 'hint' I dropped you about eating."
"You said to wait until Vegeta gets here...hey wait a second you can't be serious!"
"Would you like to wager a limb on that?"
Stepping over her fallen towel Bulma circled her hands around her husband's waist playfully trailing kisses down his jaw. His hands slid down her side slowly exploring every curve.
She teased his lips with the promise of a kiss before he claimed it eagerly.
Dipping down slightly he reached under her to hoist her up so they could retreat to the bed. He grunted slightly as he shifted her weight off his injured side before slowly lowering her down. It was during that moment she pulled away from their oral embrace looking into his half lidded eyes.
"Looks like my savage warrior worked a little too hard again this morning" She gently teased while examine his face for any tells. He merely grunted undeterred with eyes still clouded by desire.
Before she could pester him any further he silenced her with another passionate kiss. While he busied himself working his shorts down Bulma's hands wandered up to the hem of his shirt.
She nearly had it up to his diaphragm before a pained groan escaped him and he pulled back from her embrace.
"Vegeta, sweetie, what's the matter?" She asked capturing his chin and forcing it to look back at her.
Had he only been flashing a pained look on his face (which he suppressed, of course, seconds later) that alone would have sent off alarm bells in her head but then she saw the blood that was smeared across his chin...
Wait that wasn't there a second ago. And it's shaped like-
Turing her hands palm up she saw it. Fresh, dark red blood smeared all down her palms. Not only that but her whole forearms, breast and just about every other surface that made contact with his chest was painted in a nice coat of crimson.
"Let's finish this first woman," He whispered attempting to flip her over. She quickly wiggled out from underneath him, aided by the sheets lubricated surface.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU VEGETA!" She screamed taking a look at the bloody mess he left behind.
After hearing his mates shrieking voice he knew any chances he had of scraping out a decent morning were shattering, much like his eardrums. "Shut up." He mumbled as he weakly collapsed to the bed, on his less injured side.
"Are you insane—wait, no don't answer that!" She continued screaming; although now at a saiyan approved decibel level. She ducked down under her side of the bed digging for her first aid kit.
He groaned again but this time it was due to seeing his mates smooth porcelain derrière bent at such an alluring angle.
"Just stay like that for a few minutes woman. I promise I'll be quick this time."
"You're right, how silly of me." She grumbled emerging with the kit. "With as much blood as you've rained on me, you just may not hemorrhage out if we shunt the flow to your *ahem* little saiyan."
Sitting up, as quickly as he could manage, he fixed his face into a terrifying frown. "You would do well to remember woman, there is nothing little about this saiyan."
"Trust me big guy I know." She purred leaning in close to him. "But I had to get you sitting up somehow." Tone now back to nagging mode as she rifled through the kit.
Oh yeah today was going to be fan-fucking-tastic!
"How on Earth did this happen?" She asked watching as he flinched when her hands materialized a pair of scissors from the box.
"Training accident." He quietly replied, his eyes transfixed on the shiny blades the woman was wielding.
"Duh, I know this," she motioned with the scissors indicating his battered torso. "Didn't happen from you tripping down the damn stairs!"
"Landed on a bot."
"At what, what?"
"You know exactly WHAT! How many G's were you flailing your heavy self around when you landed on a bot? I just need to know so I can gauge whether we should be having this conversation here or in the infirmary."
Shaking his head to rid himself of a sudden dizzy spell he watched closely as she cut his shirt off along the seams. "I was warming up before breakfast, so 400 G's"
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep cleansing breath to calm her nerves.
"Open your damn eyes woman! You have a blade next to my vital areas!" He growled not pleased that she was blindly wielding a weapon around him, even if only for a second.
Ignoring him, "400 G's...you landed on metal, that I'm sure was destined for the scrap heap, at 400 G's and you waltz in here like-"
Bulma you don't have time for this. Not today. Not today.
"That reminds me I think I need new training shoes. Have your mother get more." He grunted as she pulled the tattered shirt off with less care than he liked.
Trying to connect the dots she grumbled under her breath looking for the source (or in today's case sources) of bleeding.
"You have a closet full of shoes, use one of them."
"I have four pair of shoes and only one of them are," motioning toward the garbage can by the desk with two sets of laces dangling over the side, "Correction, were my training shoes."
"As you wish milord. I'll have the shoe fairy bestow you a new pair." She teased in a peculiar accent he didn't recognize as she mended his battered flesh. With a practiced hand she quickly sutured his wounds before demanding him to stand and spin around for further inspection.
"Woman you are pressing your luck." He growled. Standing he could do, but warriors don't spin around like some human whore on a pole.
"We'll I hope for your sake that's everything." She said gathering the garbage together. Watching has he looked her work over in the mirror. "Son of a—VEGETA!
He winced at her harsh tone seeking her eyes out in the reflection of the mirror. Had his body not started to reduce its blood supply to his skin, for conservation purposes, he would have blushed horribly.
His blue haired minx held up a seemingly new pair of training shoes, dangling them furiously by the strings. "These things look like you've hardly worn them!"
"Woman," He sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nosed, "The tread under them is worn. The GRs floors are slick, you do the math. You are supposed to be the genius..." Trailing off as he rooted around in his dresser drawers. It was getting late and his stomach was revolting against his tardiness at the breakfast table.
Flipping the shoes over to inspect the soles she realized what he was saying was in fact true. While the shoes did look deceivingly new, the soles looked like a softly melted white crayon.
He slipped. She smirked. Looking back at his flustered face she decided both parties would benefit from a truce. She tossed the shoes back in the garbage and watch him stalk off to the bathroom.
"Hell no! Where are you going!"
"Nice try mister! I'm late enough as it is and if you think I'm going in there with you, you're crazier than you look."
"Woman, I am not the one naked caked in dried blood." He grumbled
"Ha, ha," She laughed bitterly grabbing her towel and covering herself while leading him by the elbow towards the exit. "Guest room. Go. Shower." She said pointing down the hall tapping her foot impatiently.
"I need a towel."
"Here!" Ripping off hers she threw it at him hoping it would slap him in his smug face.
"Woman your friends are here! Cover yourself at once!" He growled looking around menacingly for any voyeurs. Quickly looing back his gaze meet the rapidly closing door where his wife stood.
"Problem solved" She sighed. Basking in the victory of their argument for once.
"Woman this towel is covered in blood!" He said pounding his fist on the door.
"GOOD MAYBE YOU'LL THINK NEXT TIME YOU DECIDE TO GIVE ME A LITERAL BLOOD BATH!"
Hearing the guest room door slam shut Mrs. Briefs giggled at her company, "So ten more minutes boys" Collecting her dirty plate and glass together she whisked off to the sink and had them washed and dried before either of them could recover from the shocking audio drama broadcasting overhead. She disappeared off to the garden leaving the two fighters to their fates.
"Why does she get to eat?" Krillin whined after realizing the blonde's departure.
"After 7:15 family is exempt."
Rolling his eyes Krillin propped his head up on both of his hands eyeing the nearby muffins longingly.
True to her word ten minutes later the grumbling prince came staggering downstairs in a pair of midnight blue training pants. As tight as his shirts had become lately he decided to avoid struggling into one, especially after returning to his room to dress, finding his woman still fuming mad.
Not that he cared because by that point he was a raging inferno.
She already forced him to wrap the wounds with a gauze bandage.
But now she demanded he report to the infirmary for x-rays anyway.
Not that he needed her to do anything for him or go anywhere with him! She should do so because, if left to his own devices, he would have been downstairs twenty minutes ago, shaming competitive eaters across the globe.
And the final kick to the nuts, she threatened to shut the GR down for the next two days if he didn't promise to stop training until at least after lunch.
Needless to say when Yamcha saw the dower looking man enter the room he knew it was situation critical, threat level midnight!
Plopping down in his chair, harder than he should have, he grabbed his plate and began loading it down with food. Not bothering to acknowledge the other two men sitting nearby.
Seeing the saiyan distracted Yamcha gave Krillin an approving nod to proceed with caution lest he leave the table with less fingers than when he arrived.
In continued silence the prince assaulted the food on his plate. The only sound coming from his corner of the table was the occasional scraping of his silverware against the plate.
Why is my glass still empty! He vented internally as he devoured his third plate. "Where is the woman?"
Startled by his sudden acknowledgment that they were actually present in the same room for a change Krillin fired off quickly against his better judgment, "Who Bulma? Weren't you two just—"
He was cut off by the harsh clanking of silverware falling on the edges of the saiyan's plate. Vegeta fixed his elbows on the edge of the table, clasping his hands in front of his mouth. It would have almost appeared he were praying if his jaw wasn't rippling in agitation and he weren't throwing death glares with his eyes at the bald man's response.
"Mrs. Brief—is in the garden!" Yamcha spoke up emphasizing the name of the woman he referred to at this time. Also pleading with his friend to stop speaking to this enraged, and very much confirmed, killer.
Satisfied he resumed eating with one hand. With the other he grabbed his empty cup and placed it firmly down on the table in front of Krillin.
Looking to Yamcha for help all his loyal friend did was slump his shoulders and dig into his own plate.
"He-Here you go Vegeta." The monk said placing a glass of orange juice in front of him.
Without spearing the human or proffered beverage a glance he shook his head as he plowed through his meal. "No. Apple."
Krillin pleaded for help with his eyes to his friend, who was still successfully ignoring him, before turning back to the refrigerator to appease Vegeta. Setting a new glass down before him Krillin returned to his place quickly hoping to make himself as invincible as Yamcha was doing.
"Not my glass."
"What! Awe come one Vegeta—"
He was about to verbally brutalize the fool.
Sitting at his table.
Eating all of his toast.
Can't even get a glass of...
Damn it! He cringed, slowly sipping on the apple juice without complaint. He needed to get rehydrated for the next spar his tongue met.
"I JUST BOUGHT THIS BEDROOM SUITE LAST WEEK!"
He sat patiently waiting as he heard dainty footsteps quicken across the floor. Bulma erupted into the kitchen holding a laundry basket containing the blood stained items in question.
"Look at this. Just look." She said holding the article with the largest stain up. "Hey guys!" She said in a pleasant tone and smiling after catching the slightly embarrassed and disgusted looks of her two friends.
Is he drinking from my glass...?
"Woman!" Vegeta gasped launching himself from his chair and over to her. He lowered the outstretched comforter in her hand and guided her out of the kitchen. Not before shooting a warning glance at the two dumbstruck men...eating his damn toast!
"You are not to show anything from our private quarters to those peasants!" He groused, not caring that the men could still hear him despite their room change. "Besides between your love of chemistry and shopping I think I did you a favor."
Looking up at his worn visage. She remembered her previous resolve (it having crumbled after looking at her designer comforter set splattered with alien blood). She knew better than to instigate him in the morning. That applied doubly when he was tired, sore and hurting. Compounding matters she invited two of her friends over. Two of her male friends...
He was bound to be cranky. Yes, if she managed to soothe him now it would be an act of untold humanitarianism. Laughingly she dropped the basket and pulled him closer. "You're right" she whispered cradling the side of his face. "I'm sorry." she said tiptoeing up to his forehead and kissing him gently.
"Hn." He mused as her hands moved elsewhere, "Woman, don't start something you don't intend on finishing!"
"If you're up to it after lunch I may appease you my lord." She bowed picking up the basket and sashaying out of the room seductively.
All he wanted was some goddamn toast. Now here he was making his own like a commoner!
"Greedy bastards." He growled looking at the two offending Z-fighters.
The pleasant ding of the toaster covered Kirllin's choking gasp at the saiyan's audacious statement.
Approaching the kitchen Bulma heard a few loud alien curse words followed by a drawer being forcefully pulled open and slammed shut. She entered finding her friends slumped forward attempting to finish their meal quickly so they could retreat from the surly man at the counter.
Knife in hand the prince dueled with the toaster for the release of his toast.
Walking over to him she peeped over his shoulder. He paused momentarily, agitated by her breath tickling the back of his neck he resumed violently stabbing the toaster.
"Why didn't you stop him?" She mouthed shooting a disapproving glare over at her ex.
"What and miss the fireworks? Not a chance." He muttered with a halfcocked smile.
Turning back to her husband she slowly traced her hand up from the small of his back and massaged the rippling shoulder that was attempting to exercise restraint while skewering the appliance. "Sweetheart," She whispered softly, "Let me take a look at that."
He growled at her suspiciously but relinquished his grasp. With his arms crossed in his typical defiant stance he leaned against the counter to fully take stock of his irritating house guest.
"Thank goodness it's unplugged." Bulma sighed quietly, but not quietly enough for a sharp eared saiyan.
"Hn." he grumbled. Pushing away from the counter muttering a few more choice alien words of his own at the slight to his intelligence. "Why are you fools here and when are you leaving?" He growled sitting back down at the table.
"Vegeta, my friends are here to help me out in the lab. The mechanical lift is broken and I have to finish tweaking the circuitry under the turbine engine today."
Looking over the two men he rolled his eyes, "I would have—"
"Oh no mister," Bulma snipped before remembering to reign in her temper. She dropped four pieces of toast on his plate, "You have something to do today." She smiled, knowing he forgot but anticipating his memory's quick recovery.
Looking over the toast, that was burnt in varying degrees, she observed his face evolve. She didn't know what he was grumbling but she knew it was in reference to his promise. "...should have destroyed your ship on Namek." he finished softly.
"Wouldn't have worked I was wished back like you." She said planting a kiss on top of his head, earning her a fierce growl and more foreign curses.
"We'll be waiting for you at the lab!" Yamcha sheepishly chimed in as he gestured for Krillin to follow quickly.
In their haste they almost knocked Mrs. Briefs over as she entered. Muttering an apology they sidestepped her and bolted for the exit.
Finally satiated Vegeta leaned back in his chair as he felt Bunny approaching him. Although looking straight ahead as his wife made fresh coffee he could see the ditzy blonde clearly out of the corner of his eye, holding a box in her arm.
"Here you go love." She beamed, "We have to keep a hardworking man like yourself properly equipped." Setting the box on the table she opened it to reveal a pair of shoes identical to the ones that were in the upstairs trash.
Looking quizzically at the shoes and then the insane woman he opened his mouth to ask a question before closing it. He knew the stores weren't open now and he certainly didn't feel her leave the compound.
Seeing her husband pausing in reflection Bulma intervened. "Thank you mother, but he won't even be needing those today."
Good one, get his mind off track. She thought raising her mug to hide her smile. Waiting for his biting remarks.
He frowned at her but didn't take the bait. "How did you acquire new shoes at this hour?"
"Easy silly," She giggled covering her mouth as she cleared the table, "Bulma keeps one of the guest room stocked full of them and a few other things."
"Oh does she?" He asked quirking one eyebrow as he kept his glare fixed on his wife who was now choking on her coffee.
"Mother!" She finally gasped, "You weren't supposed to tell him that!"
"Oh really? I thought he knew already as often as we have to replace his things." She said continuing to giggle.
"So woman, you drag me through the bowels of hell to go shopping." His well hidden accent emerged at the very mention of the hated activity, "And you have a stock pile of garments in another room?"
"Not exactly dearie. She only keeps things in there that she says 'won't change' so it's mostly shoes, your armor, those little towels you love to use in the GR—"
"Alright mom," Bulma interrupted her mother as she finished cleaning in a blinding fury. "Why don't you escort Yamcha and Krillin to my lab? I'm sure they'd love to hear your secrets on growing award winning azaleas."
"Do you think so? Oh, then they will be in for a real treat because this year I've tried a few things with wondrous results." She sighed dreamily clutching her hands together before whisking out of the room.
Looking at the woman with a look of pure disgust Vegeta shook his head. "If Kakkarot and she were not mated those two would have made a match in fucking fairytale heaven..." Turning his attention back to his mate he resumed his questioning glare. "Care to explain." He said motioning with his chin at the box on the table.
Whit a heavy sigh she glanced at her watch and then back at him. "Trust me Vegeta, as much as you don't want to go shopping, I don't want to drag you along."
Most of the time anyway... She mused walking up to the still seated man. She did love the free show she got watching him change.
"As hard as you are on your—well everything—I don't have time to keep running out and buy replacements. AND neither does my mother." She quickly inserted the last part seeing he was inhaling for a rebuttal. "Also with as much as your pants and shirt size keeps changing, depending on your training regime, it would be pointless for me to stock those items." She whispered in his ear as her hand slid down to his waist. For additional emphasis she pulled the elastic back and let it go with a snap.
"Woman." He growled, finally standing to full height. "What did I tell you about starting things you have no intentions of completing."
"I plan on completing all of my work today." She said suggestively as she hooked her arms around his neck.
Their lips locked in a fervent duel. All the while Bulma watched for that telltale change in his facial expression signaling he was going to ravage her right on the kitchen table, family and friends be damned. Pulling away right before she sensed that moment nearing.
"Alright tough guy. That was just a sampling of things to come. We both have things to do and places to be." Grasping his hand she led the disappointed saiyan through the kitchen.
"Bulma..." He whispered longingly in his huskiest voice. It was his last shot. Seldom was she every able to deny him when he used her name in such a way.
Hearing the desire in his voice made her breath catch in her throat. She paused, mentally counting down in much the same fashion she would to keep her temper in line. If she looked back at him it would be over. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply...
"Nice try mister," A frustrated growl swiftly followed. "But I've already called in the company doctor to come look at you and I have to get to work."
He pulled his hand from hers 'adjusting' himself as he continued to growl.
Once in the lobby she turned to face the grumpy fighter trailing behind her. He stopped looking off to the side with his arms tightly crossed his chest. She chewed on her bottom lip mildly worried as she saw a small area on his bandages transform into a small red puddle.
"Alright sweetie," She said quickly stealing a kiss on his cheek. "Don't get lost on your way to the infirmary," a wicked smile spread on her lips "Or the gravity room won't be the only thing on lock down after lunch."
"I think that's it. Now just carefully set it back down on the support brackets. Let me just run a diagnostic and—" Pausing mid-sentence the blue haired genius fumbled around in her coat pocket for her ringing cellphone.
Turning her back to her friends she looked at the caller ID with a frown. She had anticipated this call much earlier. "Hello Dr. Anishi. What's the damage?"
She listened quietly as the doctor on the other end listed off his assessment. Most of the information didn't surprise her. Years of living with the self-destructive man honed her own abilities to diagnose him.
Broken ribs, hemorrhagic anemia, contusions, lacerations and abrasions. Same story. Different setting.
She was, however, shocked to know there was still shrapnel in a few of the wounds she, herself cleaned and sutured. Typically if he didn't pick it out already she would have spotted it while tending to him.
Additionally, while she noticed he had a subtle limp, would have never guessed the he was masking several torn tendons and ligaments in his knee.
"I don't know how you managed to get him to do an MRI on top of everything else; but remind me to give you a much needed bonus." She laughed as the doctor finished.
Patiently waiting for the heiress to finish her call the two fighters looked casually around her lab attempting to ignore the conversation.
"Thanks anyways. No, no I'm sure. Yeah, well I doubt he'll do that." She smiled glancing over her shoulder, "Same to you!" Hanging up she turned back to Krillin and Yamcha.
"Everything alright B?" The latter asked seeing a worried frown slightly tug at the corner of her lips.
Shaking her head to refocus. "Not really...Vegeta promised to train Trunks and Goten but now I'm not sure it's such a good idea." She mumbled, almost to herself, as she stepped over to the computer console connected to the heavy machine the men were helping her with; furiously typing as lines of indecipherable code flashed across the screen.
"You guys don't sense the boys do you?" She asked chewing on her thumb nail reflectively as she paused to read the display.
"Now that you mention it," Krillin chuckled rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I think they landed about fifteen minutes ago."
With all the speed of her professed computer genius she continued typing at a fast sprint. She glanced up at the clock mounted on the opposite wall before stepping away from the console.
"Well guys," She said stretching her hands above her head. "I think you've earned a pizza."
"Sounds great!" Krillin eagerly replied.
"I don't know—" the bandit mumbled, nudging his partner in the back. "We should probably get going."
"Awe, come on you guys. We hardly ever get to see each other and it's almost lunch time and I know you guys have to be hungry—"
"Yeah that's the problem," Yamcha cut in. "if we are hungry that means the three saiyans upstairs are ravenous. Not to mention that one of them has on multiple occasions threatened to literally eat me if he even suspected a meal would be late."
Bulma looked up from here phone as she placed the last online order from three different pizza joints that were capable of delivering the large order quickly. "Trunks said that? I'm going to have a nice long talk with that young man when I get a hold of him." She teased looking up to see a less than amused Yamcha.
"Ha, ha." he deadpanned
"Geez, sometimes you and Vegeta are such big babies." She chided crossing the room and removing her lab coat. "You don't even have to eat at the table. Go to the porch or the living room if he makes you that uncomfortable but at least stick around. Besides we've got some catching up to do."
Leaning against the wall Vegeta looked on watching his son and the other little cur spar.
He would have liked them to be in the GR but since his banishment prevented him from entering with them this was the next best option.
Now donning a shirt, he observed the boys feeling more relaxed than usual. The injection that doctor gave him before entering the MRI for claustrophobia, whatever the hell that was, sufficiently numbed him enough mentally so that the effort involved with putting the shirt on wasn't nearly as painful as he originally thought.
While normally he could care less if they boys saw his mangled torso. He was far too tired to answer the accompanying questions. Trunks was as talkative as his mother and Goten was an idiot like his father.
...boy ask why so much I am beginning to think Kakkrot's brain damage is hereditary.
"Trunks! Keep your arms up and widen your feet!" He barked with less viciousness than he would have normally issued.
Correcting his stance enabled him to swiftly dodge the kick combo Goten launched into before retaliating with a swift kick of his own that sent the younger boy stumbling back.
In a fit of childish temper Goten launched a small but powerful ki blast at his opponent.
"That's not fair!" Trunks whined before deflecting it wildly. Looking back over his shoulder where his father was last standing he expected to still find him there, struggling for a moment to release his wrath in a slow but semi-constructive outburst.
"What the fuck did I tell you?"
"Ooooooooo, Mom said that's a bad word."
Landing off to the side of the two boys in all of his Super Saiyan glory he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. He just barely managed to catch up to the blast before it sped over the compound walls into the lunch rush traffic outside.
"I do not give a fuck what your mother says if you launch another ki blast around here I am going to broaden your horizons on bad words. Now listen, you little bumpkin, we are sparring in the middle of a densely populated city, not frolicking in your little rabbit field."
Trunks slapped his face at his father's misuse of their language.
Radishes. They grow radishes dad...
"I could care less if you take out half the block, but if you are going to do so it better damn well be intentional and not some careless violation of my direct order!"
"Save your sorry's for someone who cares." He growled, as Trunks, out of his father's line of sight now that he turned full on towards Goten, mimicked his father's well used phrase.
"...mmm'kay 'Geta" Goten sheepishly replied as he looked down at the ground, kicking a rut into the grass.
"Since both of you could use some work on perfecting your stances, you will perform the kata I showed you earlier until you are able to flawlessly do it a hundred times in a row."
"But Dad/Geta!" The boys whined in unison.
"I can always double it!" He shrugged dropping down to his base form. "It would keep you out of my hair twice as long." He mused, crossing the yard desperately trying to stifle a yawn.
He didn't know when they would learn the numbers were arbitrary. He could have told them to do ten thousand and it would make little difference. They were there to train not count. When he was satisfied they mastered a task or sensed nothing further could be gained from that day he would end it. It mattered little to him if they didn't reach the set number or exceeded it.
Sitting down and leaning heavily against his favorite tree he watched the boys for a few minutes, chiming in only when he saw glaring flaws they tried to smooth over rather than correct. After a while when he was satisfied they remembered the kata sufficient enough not to need his critique he leaned his head back against the tree. Lulled by the sound of tiny hands slicing through the air and feet stomping to the ground his concentration slipped, again, as he drifted off to sleep.
"Vegeta" He heard someone prodding his conscious. Sensing no threat he would have been happy to ignore the voice. As the voice grew closer, however; it pulled him further into the waking world. Soon the owner of the voice stood in front of him, casting a shadow that blocked all of the sun rays he was enjoying.
Peaking one eye open and growling wearily in warning as he focused on the image before him.
"Bulma?" He asked seeing her kneeling over him with a warm smile.
"Hey, there you are." She whispered stroking the side of his cheek once the look of recognition settled on his face.
"The boys?" He squinted searching the yard before reaching out to find their ki.
"Came in a while ago for lunch. I thought you would be coming in behind them—" She paused reaching out for his arm as he shakily rose to his feet, bracing himself between her and the tree.
Growling at her he shrugged his hand free, reaching up to rub his forehead.
"Damn doctor poisoned me." He grumbled pushing off the tree as they walked towards the compound.
"Why do you always jump straight to the poisoning accusation when you think a human has done something to you?" She teased grabbing his stolen arm back playfully. She heard him growl but he didn't pull away. Looking up at his bleary face she knew it would probably be better if he assumed she was flirting rather than escorting him.
"Underhanded tricks like that are the only way you weak little humans stand a chance against me."
Hearing the slight slur in his word as well as his alien accent emerging she looked up to scan his face. His relaxed features and half-lidded eyes brought a smile to her face. Rarely did she ever catch him in such a state of utter exhaustion.
"Feels like that shit you give me." He sighed fighting back another yawn.
"It probably was that shit I give you and underhanded or not it sure looks like its kicking your ass."
He was almost too tired to care about her little insult. Almost. Just before he got ready to scald her with his tongue she released his arm. Suddenly he realized just how much he was leaning into her as he tried to quickly right himself.
"Come on your highness before your food gets cold." She smiled curtseying to him holding the door open.
Rolling his eyes and grumbling in his native tongue he walked past her. It was only then he noticed the extra faces at the table.
"Woman," He growled as she came up behind him. "Are you not done with the help? Why are they still here?"
"Vegeta!" She chided him nudging him in side with an elbow. Hearing him exhale sharply she quickly recognized her mistake offering him an apologetic glance. "I invited them to stay for lunch as thanks for helping me."
Snorting he took a seat in between the two brats. "Hn, I thought friends meant free slave labor." He mumbled before pulling a stack of pizza boxes over.
Sitting back down Bulma tried to reengage her friends in conversation. Once they realized the saiyan's full attention was diverted to eating they slowly started to continue on as if he was never there.
The kids of course never stopped talking and eating.
I wish we could have more days like this.
Her parents were the only ones missing from the table. Seeing all of the 'young people' in their kitchen they decided to retreat for a quiet lunch on the town.
"You okay Dad?"
Pulled from her thoughts she looked up at her son, then husband. They had been sitting there already for more than ten minutes but from the looks of it the older prince was just finishing his second box of pizza. He paused for a moment at his son's question, his jaw clenched and bulging.
"Trunks, your father is fine. Don't bother him while he is eating. You two boys hurry up and finish, I have a few chores that I need you to do."
Hearing the boys groan in protest she continued to watch as her husband dragged another box in front of himself and slowly set to work. It almost look like he was on autopilot. His eyes were more vacant than usual as he chewed and stared at the dripping faucet.
"I don't know B he does seem kind of out of it." Krillin leaned in close to her and whispered.
Yamcha sighed audibly and scooted his chair away from the monk. Just a precaution in case a ki blast was sent across the table.
Gotta make sure I'm out of the blast zone.
"Your mother's right," Came the gruff voice hidden behind a box lid. "I am fine," Closing it and setting it aside for another he cast his son a sideways glance before looking up to find his wife still staring at him. "She did fail to mention, however, that she has instructed her staff to drug me."
"What?" Trunks said turning to his mother, knowing he was probably never going to get a direct answer out of his sire.
Rolling her eyes she ignored her sons questioning look. "...always so dramatic" She muttered standing to clear the table of empty boxes.
Seeing he wasn't going to get any answers, at least not with company around, he continued his conversation with Goten.
"Do you guys want to watch a movie afterwards?" Bulma asked as she continued cleaning.
Two tiny voices cheered in consent while the two human fighters traded questioning glances. Everyone stopped, though, hearing a derisive snort from the flame haired warrior.
"You will do no such thing, or have you forgotten your promise?" Leaning back from the table with his arms crossed he smirked at his wife, raising one eyebrow slowly. "And furthermore do not encourage these fools to stay a moment longer than they have to. I'm sure they have kittens to save from trees somewhere."
The two tiny voices giggled in anticipation for the show that was already starting.
"Oh please, Vegeta," Bulma sighed as she continued. "I thought you were too drugged to care."
"Hn. Woman I am merely conserving my energy." His arms still crossed he leaned slightly forward. Eyes now glazing over with a familiar look. "I. Am. Going. To. Cripple. You. Woman."
"Kids out! Out, out, out!" She almost yelled, her cheeks flaming red as she scurried the two slow moving demies into the living room.
"Your dad is going to spar with your mom?" Goten asked in awe, knowing that Bulma was no fighter.
"Not exactly..." Trunks mumbled as his mother pushed them both from the table. "I'm pretty sure he means they are going to have sex. A lot of it. Kind of looks like fighting and mom screams a lot but she sounds really happy—"
"DAMN RIGHT!" Vegeta's voice chimed in triumphantly.
"Trunks!" Thoroughly embarrassed she gave him a knowing glare that warned if he continued with his explanation he would incur her wrath and it would surely be more terrifying than his father could ever dredge up.
"Okay and that is our cue!" Yamcha grumbled rising to quickly follow the children's exit with Krillin hot on his tail.
As she turned to reenter the kitchen she saw her friends exiting the kitchen with blushes rivaling her own.
"Thanks for your help guys and I am so sorry once again." She continued as they walked down the front path. "It's the sedation. It lowers his already low inhibitions."
"WOMAN! In five more seconds I am not going to care if your friends are here or not!"
"Sure it's the sedation" Krillin chuckled before both men looked around to ensure no one was looking and took flight.
Slamming the door she turned to find her husband leaning against the threshold of the kitchen with an amused look on his face.
"You ass! I don't know how much of that medicine the doctor gave you but it's no excuse for traumatizing the children and scaring off my friends."
"You seemed comfortable using it as such with those imbeciles." He said, his slur and accent returning now that they were alone.
With a sigh she saw his groggy appearance slowly returning, "Just—just go upstairs and put some ice on your knee. I believe the doctor told you not to be on that leg at all. I'll be there in a minute"
"Since when have I listened to your quacks?" He mumbled in his dead language before slowly stalking up to their bedroom.
She emerged from the kitchen with a few more ice packs to replace the ones that were sure to melt shortly after making contact with the warm blooded saiyan's knee. She was almost at the stairs when the doorbell rang.
"Bulma!" She heard a prim voice call out. "It's me!"
"Chi-Chi, you're a little early. Couldn't get enough of the dynamic duo this past weekend?" Bulma teased the woman as they greeted each other.
"Hardly. Those little monsters ran me ragged. I just needed to collect Goten today. Gohan's school is having an award ceremony this evening. I want to make sure I get my hands on him early before he pulls a disappearing act like his father."
"Wow that sounds great! That Gohan is something else!" She beamed, attempting to stroke the woman's ego so she wouldn't dwell on her absentee husband.
"Yes. Yes he sure is." She smiled in kind.
"The boys are upstairs cleaning Trunks room. I was on my way up there now." She said indicating the arm load of ice packs. "You're welcome to come up or I can send him down."
"No that's okay looks like you've got your hands full with your other big baby." Chi-Chi quipped as they walked over to the stairs.
When she made it to her bedroom she found her alien husband laying on the bed with his injured knee propped up on one of her 'useless pillows' with a slowly melting ice pack draped over it.
Frowning at the dozing man she looked on in disdain at the old worn bedroom suit she used to replace the one he decorated in his DNA. She walked over to his nightstand that she long ago converted into a mini-fridge, and tossed the ice packs into the top slamming the door shut, startling him awake.
"Woman have you lost your mind! I could have killed you!" He growled after recovering from his brief disorientation.
She rolled her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't believe and come to accept the fact that waking him was a delicate task, but, as with every rule, she found loopholes and exceptions. He would of course continue amending the rule until it was too outrageous for anyone to remember. At first, when she was still afraid of him...if she ever truly was, she tried to accommodate his neurotic rules.
That was short lived.
She created her own mental Saiyan Prince care and instruction manual and with it tune and repair him quicker than her most complex machine.
The years she spent sleeping next to this man taught her well on when she could and could not wake him. The deeper he treaded into his sleep cycle, the lower your chances were of being greeted by a coherent and 'amiable' prince. So she knew by his posture alone that she was in the clear.
"Chi-Chi is here to pick up Goten." She stated quickly ignoring his anger. Before she could turn to leave she felt a callous grip around her wrist. She had no time to protest. Suddenly she found herself straddling the prince's stomach, his hands resting on her waist and climbing higher.
Batting his hand away she gave him an icy glare that was worth him taking notes on. "I don't think so." She rolled over to her side of the bed but was quickly caged by his heavy lumbering body on top of her. "Vegeta, not only are you not up for this. But after your little side show at lunch I'm not in the mood to indulge you."
Kissing his way up from her shoulder he paused. "You dare doubt my prowess in bed?" He purred while coming up for air.
Bulma stared past him seeing he was putting all of his weight on his uninjured left leg.
I'm going to have to put both of us out of our misery early.
"Vegeta, honey," she cupped his face with one hand, "I'm sorry I have to do this to you."
His mind was too cloudy to process what she was saying before he could instinctively flinch back at her preemptive apology. Suddenly he felt the palm of her hand sharply push into the broken ribs on his right side.
With a hiss and loud groan he rolled away from her.
Watching him shudder she wondered if maybe she applied more pressure than she should have. Reaching out a trembling hand she touched his shoulder.
His face screwed in pain as he clutched his side protectively. "Leave...me...alone." He rasped flinching hard feeling her cold fingers on his skin.
"You okay?" his wife's voice gently asked in concern.
"...trying to...collapse...my lungs?"
The trickle of sweat that rolled down his brow sent her upright in the bed. "Vegeta!"
He opened his eyes irritably seeing her grab her phone.
"I'm calling Dr. Anishi back!"
"Stop overreacting woman...lungs are fine...just ribs... uncomfortable." He sneered closing his eyes again.
She set her phone back down, watching as he slowed his breathing down. Propping his knee back up on the pillow he reached in vain for the ice pack that had fallen to the floor just beyond his reach.
"I don't know what I am going to do with you." She mumbled as she placed a hand on his shoulder to still his efforts. Once she felt him relax she crossed the room to his side of the bed grabbing two new packs from the mini-fridge and tossed the old one in. Placing one over his knee she gently positioned the other on the side she assaulted.
"I'll be back. Let me go check up on Chich and the boys." She said running her hand in his hair before kissing his sensitive nose.
He wearily growled at her muttering alien threats as she withdrew.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah tough guy," She teased running her fingers through his soft hair with a tousle. "I've heard it all before"
As she began her descent downstairs she could already see Chi-Chi waiting. Her arms firmly crossed and her left foot tapping impatiently. With a cleansing breath she approached the woman.
Time to put out another fire.
"How in the world do you put up with that man's mouth? Around MY BABY! Around Trunks! The things he says—" The woman began as her voice climbed to a crescendo as she let her rage run away with her.
"Chi-Chi I'm sorry, I know he probably got a little carried away–"
"A little carried away! If S-E-X talk at the dinner table a little carried away then I must be the one that's losing their mind! Oh and to make matters much worse, as I have my precious sweet little angel describe to me how Vegeta is going to cripple you in bed, we all get the pleasure of hearing you two fooling around—"
"What! I was only gone ten minutes even a quickie with Vegeta isn't that quick." She laughed dismissively before remembering that she was supposed to be serious in lieu of her friend's anger.
Not that he didn't try.
"Ha! All of that groaning and fumbling I heard spoke of a different story!" She whispered in anger as she heard tiny footsteps running upstairs.
Grabbing her friend's arm she pulled her deeper into the living room and away from possibly prying ears. "Vegeta's injured, so whatever you heard was probably ME trying to get HIM to comply and rest."
Some of the fire left the conservative woman's eyes. She remembered the boys did say he was acting kind of strange; not that she even knew what his normal base line was for a comparison, because he seemed perpetually strange. But then there was also Bulma greeting her at the door with an arm full of ice packs...
"That may very well be but that doesn't excuse him speaking of private adult matters around children!"
"Oh Chi-Chi please!" Bulma snorted again dismissively but this time out of lack of caring. "We are talking about Vegeta here! The man is such a prude he thinks the beach is part of the red light district!" Seeing the amused smirk from the other woman she continued. "You know he wouldn't normally talk like that and especially around the boys. I think it might actually kill him if he has to give them 'the Talk' so early. "
Although Trunks seems to be a little more versed in that area.
"He went to the doctor this afternoon and they gave him some of my homemade Vegetable Soup." She smiled adding a wink.
While Chi-Chi's culinary skills might have been the better of the two she knew that this 'soup' was one recipe only a degree in advanced chemistry could cook up. Her husband's self-destructive training and unfathomable power combined with his stubborn streak often left her struggling to find a way to keep him down long enough so he could recover when he refused to listen to common sense. His trips to the infirmary alone were enough to thickly patch the gaps on saiyan physiology that were missing from Goku and his son's visits. It didn't take long for her to develop and perfect a sedative. Her brief dealings with saiyan pods also gave her the basic chemical compound used to put the fighters in suspended animation during their long flight. After adjusting the dosage and replicating the reversal agent she stocked her first aid kits to the brim with it. On more than one occasion Chi-Chi had to use the 'soup' on her husband as well so she well knew the side effects.
Not ready to give up on her anger though she dove into the second issue with gusto, "Fine I guess he has an excuse this time for his outlandish behavior but what are you going to do about his nasty mouth! Try as I might, Goten looks up to that crazy man...he was almost suspended from school after parroting what your husband told him a few weeks ago! And just now he said Vegeta was going to teach him some new words 'no matter what the fuck I think'!"
Bulma's eye's widened in astonishment. Surely even in the drugged condition he was in he would never tell Goten that. This clearly was a case of childish misinterpretation. In a valiant effort to hid her amusement Bulma closed her eyes and shook her head feigning disappointment.
"I'm not sure what exactly Vegeta said to the boys earlier but had I know he was drugged I would have stopped the training session early. Or at least supervised..." She grumbled. "And honestly Chi-Chi, Goten needs to practice some discernment. Trunks lives with the man and you don't hear him cursing like that. But—"She began quickly seeing her friend's insulted look grow quickly into anger. "I will talk to him...not that it will do any good. You know as well as I do that from the moment he first landed on Earth he spoke enough curse words to make a longshoreman's ears bleed. I will talk to him still though."
Thankfully for the blue haired heiress her friend's tirade died before she could even pick up steam as a tiny bolt of orange zipped through the living room, stopping in front of the women.
"Found 'em!" Goten proclaimed holding up his boots after searching nearly the entire compound for them.
With a defeated humph Chi-Chi started making her way to the door. "You do that." She mumbled watching as her son excitedly hopped about in an effort to put his boots on without sitting.
"Promise. And tell Gohan congratulations for me!" She said with a warm smile in an effort to squelch the tension between them. A return nod and smile let her know all was forgiven.
Already halfway down the front path she watched as Goten turned back eagerly waving his arm over his head "Thank you and good by Mrs. Trunk's Mom!" He chirped before continuing to skip back to their hover car. Both women broke out in laughter as they said their good-byes and parted.
After checking in on Trunks she gave him a nice long talk, trying to ferret out how much fighting he'd witnessed his parents doing. On more than a few occasions she knew the boy came dreadfully close to seeing their compromised situation. Locked doors only proved to be temporary barricades for the halfling. Even the mental bond he shared with his father proved to be somewhat subdued.
As much as her husband hated to admit it the deeper they plunged into the throws of passion the more diluted his sense of the outside world became. One night, with another near miss avoided, she asked him why he wasn't able to sense their son's ki or give him a mental shout to stop. That's when she discovered there was a voluntary component to his attenuated senses.
"Bulma, while I know my lovemaking is legendary—"
"...better be talking about your pre-Earth days buddy..."
"—you are the only one I have been able to—to relax around enough so I could drop my guard sufficiently so I can truly focus all of my senses on this." He motioned to their two naked bodies. "I can never 'shut it off' as you put it but I can lower the range. And as far as telling the boy to stop I'd rather not."
"What! Why? Do you want to explain this," She mimicked his gesture over their nude forms. "To him?"
"Woman that boy ask more damn questions than you! And with my attention regrettably diverted sometimes the boy catches glimpses of what I see! A quick retreat requires far less explaining!" He huffed turning his back to her to hide the growing crimson on his cheeks that was spreading from something else other than lust.
"Alright, alright." She cooed crawling up to his back and throwing her arms around his neck, gently trailing kisses from his shoulder to his jaw.
"This is partially your fault as it is."
"...mmmmm do tell my prince..."
"If I did not have to concentrate on not killing you while we mate I could keep my senses higher."
Twirling around into his lap she gave him a wicked smile, "Well now that my parents are watching him let's just see how much of your concentration I can earn..."
"Moooooom! You aren't even listening to me."
Pulling out of her revelry she turned to the small boy pouting in front of her. "I'm sorry dear, say that again."
"Arrrg, why are you blushing like that? You aren't going to fight me too...that's the same look you give dad when you are fighting." The boy cringed.
"Trunks!" The heiress gasped as her blush quickly faded into pale horror. "Listen here mister, you make sure that is the last time you discuss your father and I fighting around anyone. You know how private he is. The man wanted me to buy underwear online to avoid people knowing what brand and style he and I wear!" Hearing the boy giggling she turned to him with a flat affect, "I'm serious." She deadpanned. "That's why I'm sure he won't be please if he hears you discussing this topic with Goten. Today was a rare exception, he got a little taste of my special soup and that's why he was acting strange at lunch, so please refrain from the detailed commentary about our private sparring."
Looking down at his shuffling feet the boy weakly squeaked out "Yes mother."
"I'm going back to the lab if you need me. Your father should be resting and grandma is coming over to make dinner for us tonight. So if you need anything come get me or ask her when she gets here but please do not wake him up." She warned pulling him in for a quick hug.
"What if the house is on fire?" Trunks asked rolling his eyes with a smirk.
"Kid the whole city better be on fire before you wake up your father. Have fun...and clean up this room!" She grumbled over her shoulder before stalking down the hall. Reaching her bedroom door she decided to take a quick peak in in her husband before heading back to work. Satisfied he was sleeping due to his completely relaxed face and posture coupled with his low but deep purring snore, she quietly turned off all the lights before escaping to the lab.
"Oh yeah, I am a true superwoman." Bulma marveled as she spruced up her hair in the hallway mirror. Not only was she able to complete her work on the engine but she managed to tackle several other projects that had been pushed to the back burner because of it. She enjoyed a pleasant dinner with her parents and Trunks, followed by some family time. Well minus a certain surly prince. With Trunks getting ready for bed she prepared the titanic proportions that were considered left overs in their household. Trailed behind several bots carrying her weight in food, she softly knocked on her bedroom door before entering.
"Vaaaah-geeeee-taaaa—" She softly whispered turning on the nearest lamp.
The dim light washed over his still form, sitting with his legs out stretched, one still slightly propped up on her pillows, and arms loosely crossed. Thumbing quickly through her mental saiyan handbook, she knew that in his current condition she should tread carefully.
With his mind slightly clouded by the sedation combined with his earlier injuries he would behave like a wounded animal if startled unexpectedly. She continued to call out to him as she approached the bed. Hearing the purring snore even out into deep even breaths she knew his subconscious finally detected her. With that assurance granted, although his royal highness slumbered on, she crept forward. Trailing her hand lazily up his uninjured leg. "Vegeta, sweetie I brought you something to eat." She said in a hushed voice.
Her fingertips lingered on the rim of his barely visible hipbone eliciting a muffled whimper as he endeavored to find a new comfortable position away from her teasing paw. "— mmmmhp go away wommmn..." His voice groaned heavily and slurred from sleep.
Bulma smiled while shaking her head before leaning down to kiss his nose again. A sure fire way to both annoy and wake him. As she pulled away her fingers roamed up to the firm hills and valleys that made up his abdomen. "Come on Geta I know you are hungry. You didn't eat much at lunch and now you've slept through dinner." She said all the while rubbing his chiseled stomach. As if on cue a fierce rumble vibrated through her hand causing the saiyan to faintly wince and curl protectively inward. Despite the muttered protest and curses Bulma set up the food around him as he stretched and massaged his sore muscles.
"What time is it?" Vegeta asked finally coherent.
"Almost ten thirty," She called out over her shoulder from the open master bathroom.
"Shit." He grumbled rubbing both of his hands over his face before trying to hide the large yawn escaping his mouth. "Why is the boy still up?" He asked eyeing the feast that lay before him and burdened atop the servo bots that were waiting with yet more. He only half listened as Bulma prattled on about it being the weekend.
He dug into the pile with gusto. All of his favorites were there steak, potatoes, roasted duck, pork chops, spaghetti and so on, spread out before him. Suspicion began to creep into his mind. Vegeta knew that the dizzy blond haired woman would often shower him with a sickening level of untold affection when he was injured. This was of course her delicious cooking but how could she have even know what was going on with him. She'd seen him for all of one minute and as usual her smiling cheeks forced her damn eyes closed so tight he often wondered how she walked around like that. And he was sure neither Bulma nor Trunks would have told her about something as minor as this. Hell, he hadn't even been rendered unconscious!
This can't be good. He thought with a heavy sigh.
The impromptu delivery of his favorite meals always meant one of two things; she wanted something or was about to deliver some bad news. While Vegeta regarded both of them as bad news he knew that there were subtle differences. Favors required him to do something he wouldn't otherwise do. Favors would cause him to break his precious routine. Bad news, on the other hand, was an unpleasant update on reality. It was an unchanging fact that he could not alter. More importantly though because there was little else he cared for other than his family and training, bad news would have to effect one of them in order to take his notice.
With his meal finished Vegeta reclined back waiting for Bulma to emerge from the bathroom. By the time his woman did appear he was lightly nodding off again. He only blinked his eyes open for a moment to assure himself that it was her leering at him from the bathroom doorway. His eyes nearly shut again before his brain register what she was wearing. They immediately snapped open as he turned his full attention back to her.
"You like?" She breathed twirling around as she showed off the shear crimson negligée she knew drove him wild.
He stared at her for a long moment trying to decide whether he should consent and accept her placation. He growled softly at her before snapping his head forward. "What do you want?"
She knew those predatory black eyes were still watching her, tracking her every movement. "I don't want anything." Her voice came out seductively low. He watched from his periphery as her hands slid up and down her side while she sauntered over to him. "Can't a girl just do something nice for her man?" She asked slowly crawling into bed with him.
"Good, I see you have finally submitted to my training and will start to treat me with all of the dignity owing a royal member of the House of Vegeta." He stated dramatically puffing his chest up as much as his broken ribs would allow.
"Pishhh! Keep dreaming there buddy." She snorted dismissively into his ear as she brought one hand up to caress his face.
"Then what do you—"
Shuts him up every time. She mused as she engaged him in a heated kiss, locking her fingers behind the nape of his neck. She felt the bed shifting as he sat up leveraging himself closer. His warm hands slid down her shoulders to her waist then hips. Gripping her firmly he pulled her closer into their embrace. After a whole day of this teasing he was more than eager to forget her ulterior motives and accept her reward. However when he felt her dainty palm on his chest as she pulled back from him it took all the restraint he could muster not to roar in anger.
"Not so fast." Her tone still low and husky as she looked up at him with half lidded eyes, "Doctor's orders. You shouldn't be on your knee." She whispered as she pushed him on his pillows, trailing kisses down his uninjured side.
"Woman," He purred deeply, "you of all people should know that I don't need my legs for this. I can fly. Or need I remind—" Her tiny index finger came up to his lips stopping him as she ventured lower.
It had been a long day for the pair and both of them needed this. She would wait until the morning to tell him. Wait to tell him to dial back on his colorful vocabulary, at least around Goten. Wait to tell him he was banned from the GR and training for the next two days. Looking up she saw his face slowly melting into blissful relaxation. Yes she would wait...
"Shut up and just enjoy this."
Hn. Glad today was not a total loss...