A Future Spin-Off to Twice Upon a Time
Summary- It all fell apart and Bulma had to manage the pieces. Alone, she raised her son in a desolate apocalyptic world. Strong-willed and brave, she accepted this fate, moving on despite hope only coming to another timeline and not her own. Then he came back. . . and they had a new task- fixing something that was never whole to begin with.
Disclaimer- Dragon Ball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation
West City recovered to its previous glory, with rounded structures and stacked skyscrapers. But it did not return to "normal". The metropolis lay dormant, as if sleeping, without the hustle and bustle of citizens. This was the atmosphere that a certain three travelers returned to. Maybe Vegeta remained unaffected and Trunks knew nothing different, but Bulma found herself caught between a sense of success in recreating her home and a sad regret that it was so quiet and deserted. The only ones around to savor in the renewed landscape were the Briefs (well, Vegeta wasn't officially a Briefs, but Bulma considered him part of the family whether married or not) and their resurrected friends.
"There must be survivors," Trunks remarked. "They're probably just too scared to surface."
"Hmph," Vegeta said. "I happen to prefer the peace and quiet."
The Eartlings were no concern for Vegeta. However, he cared for them, his family, and that was enough for Bulma. When she grabbed his hand and he allowed it she wondered if maybe having less people to watch wasn't such a bad thing, but then realized how horrible the thought was.
Capsule Corp awaited them as if it had never been touched. The ceiling of the giant dome had been repaired and the lettering was solid and readable. Her heart thumped a little faster at the sight and the memories attached to the location. Vegeta hesitated in the yard and she couldn't decipher his face.
When they settled inside, Bulma wasn't sure what she expected. Trunks seemed disoriented by the enlarged building, not used to the passageways and luxurious furniture. Vegeta went straight to training as if nothing had changed. For Bulma, everything was different. No longer would she have to watch her son leave, constantly worried that he may not return and leave her all alone. No longer would she remember Vegeta with a hole in her heart that couldn't be filled. Her home wasn't fallen and broken, crumbling around her. It was standing strong and firm, tall and weather-proof. Sometimes it was necessary to rebuild. And rebuilt, they had.
Of course, in Briefs style, Bulma threw a party and invited Gohan, Chi-Chi, Piccolo, Krillin, Yamcha, Master Roshi, and Tien. In the middle of it, Trunks called them into the living room, television remote in hand. With an excited grin, he pointed to the flat-screen television. Bulma pushed through the crowd to get a front-row view of the program. It was full of static but presented real live people.
"They are broadcasting!" Bulma exclaimed. Something warm settled in her chest with the unspoken relief that they were not alone.
The newscast spoke about how this was the first airing in over ten years. Hundreds of people were emerging from underground tunnels and shelters. Apparently people had even made their home in caves. Celebrations were happening, as the few survivors marveled at the resurrected civilization and seemingly safe environment.
Chi-Chi squealed and gave her a smile, forgetting for the moment that she was giving Bulma the cold treatment for leaving her old while Bulma pranced around in a skin-tight dress that showed off her youthful bouncy bosom.
That night, Bulma found Vegeta standing outside on the balcony. He leaned against the railing with a can of beer in his hand. She lifted a brow, a little surprised that even he was celebrating. She'd smoked years back and drank wine regularly, but she couldn't remember ever seeing Vegeta partake in substances before. He didn't flinch a muscle as she stepped out wearing a sexy pink nightgown, feeling very confident now that she resembled not even thirty years old. She pressed herself against his side and looked in the direction he did. A few stars glowed back. She sighed in a contented noise.
"Whatcha looking at?"
He took a swallow of his beer. "Nothing."
"Nothing, huh? It sure seems like you are looking at the stars to me."
There was a span of silence between them. Finally, he said, "Woman . . . I'm really looking at nothing."
"Well, you are looking at it very intently." She meant it to be teasing but he glared over at her.
"It isn't there," he said. Then, he tossed the empty aluminum can over the railing. It probably wasn't a good idea to litter their rehabilitated planet but she knew he needed to get his bad-boyness out somehow. He turned away, arms crossed.
Bulma rubbed his back. He stiffened just a tad but then relaxed. Progress, she thought. It didn't take her long to figure out what he was referring to. His home planet. Light took years to travel to their destination. It would have been possible to still pinpoint a dead planet. She wondered if Planet Vegeta had still been visible when he'd first made his home at Capsule Corporation and when it had vanished. She wondered if he'd even searched for it all those years ago. She decided not to ask. Sometimes you had to be gentle when handling Vegeta.
"Do you miss it?" she asked.
"It doesn't matter whether I miss it. Like I said, it is gone."
When he turned his expression wasn't flat as she'd anticipated. Instead he smirked. "I guess it is proof that I'm stuck on this backwater hellhole you call home. With all the moronic weaklings." He reached out and took her hips. "With loud mouthed women who are as annoying as hell."
Bulma grinned back. "And a land full of ego maniacs who act like jerks is better?"
Vegeta growled and nipped her neck in warning. She tilted her head and wrapped her arms around him. After the bite, he breathed her in. They remained that way until voices filtered up from the back yard. The sound was accompanied with laughter. Bulma and Vegeta separated to peer down below to spot their lavender-haired son with a girl- no a woman.
"You live here!" she squeaked. "You are- Oh my God, you are Trunks, the Trunks Briefs!"
Uncomfortable, Trunks ran a hand through his locks. "Don't make a big deal out of it. I've lived the majority of my life in a small house out in the country."
The woman sobered. "I guess no one has had it easy," she said.
The couple looked at each other in the eyes until Trunks shyly looked away. "I'll only be a second getting some money. Then we can go to the festival."
After their son strolled off with the woman, Bulma felt her eyes sting. Her little boy . . .
"Oh, don't get all teary over something like that!" Vegeta barked.
"I can't- I can't help it. He's all grown up and moving on."
"And that is a bad thing? Boys do that. Shouldn't you be happy he made it this far?"
Bulma frowned. "You missed out on most of his life. Doesn't it bother you even a little that he is going to hook up with some woman and eventually start a family of his own?"
"Hmph," was all the reply she got.
She spoke softly. "You know, we could have another one. Start anew." The words were tentative.
His response was immediate. "Don't be stupid, woman!"
"And why the hell not!" she spat.
"Because it went so well the first time," he said with sarcasm.
"Hence the redo," she said, thinking if anyone was stupid it was him.
They were temporarily distracted by an array of fireworks. Bulma jumped. Green and white streamed in the air followed by a boom. They were magnificent and hollers of oos and ahhs could be heard in the distance.
Vegeta scoffed. "What a pathetic means of entertainment," he muttered.
"I happen to like fireworks. What do Saiyans do for entertainment?" She realized that maybe she shouldn't ask. They might enjoy gladiator arenas or seeing how many people they could kill in one blast.
"Train," was Vegeta's simple answer.
She rolled her eyes. "There has to be something else you enjoy."
He met her gaze and she stopped breathing for a few seconds. Oh. Of course he enjoyed something else. Which was why she'd put on the nightgown in the first place. He seemed to just then notice it. His hand stretched out to cup her left breast through the thin fabric. Her lips parted and a tiny hitch came in her throat. Cerulean eyes met charcoal, his fathomless and hers most likely begging. They fumbled with their clothes and despite his desperate fingers she realized that there was a gentleness that hadn't been present before. Their naked bodies stumbled back into the corner where the railing branched from the house and Vegeta lifted her to nestle into the groove.
Vegeta rocked into her deeply but it wasn't bruising or even defined as slamming. He grunted and his face contorted with need, and she sensed his craving, but he held back. In fact, she was the one that seemed to urge him to hasten his pace, her hips arching forward, and her fingers snatching onto his shoulder blades. Her whimpers were drowned out by the finale of fireworks in the background. It would have been magical if the intense display matched their passion but they were still going when the lightshow fizzled out.
"Vegeta," she whispered, almost in pain as her walls quivered.
He seemed to be in his own world, eyes closed as he continued journeying at a forceful but modest stride. His calloused hands cupped her buttocks as he finally grew impatient, speeding up. Yet, still, there was a difference from how he used to be. He was more hesitant, and less raw.
When he came, his eyes opened and she was mesmerized at how they seemed filled for a second. He caught her stare before burying his face in the crook of her neck. He didn't pull out right away and they clutched each other in the now still of the night.
Bulma felt warm and safe then. Loved in the unspokenness.
All that protest and he hadn't searched out a condom.
AN- Thank you for reading! Like I said, there will be some more of this couple in Twice Upon a Time.