Trunks and his wife Sonali lay in their bed - breathless - and stared at the ceiling. Clothes were strewn throughout their dimly lit room, along with suitcases and other accessories. A crisp, black satin-edged tuxedo hung on the wall next to a slate-blue, pleated ballroom gown. The couple agreed that his mother Bulma had done a splendid job choosing their attire. She always did.

"Are you ready to get up, tiger mom?"

Sonali playfully tapped her husband's shoulder before sliding her arm under his back. "Let's get it straight, buddy. That is your mother, not me."

"I guess, but you've been around my crazy family since we were in college," Trunks said as he surveyed the untidiness around them. "Mom's personality has rubbed off on you. The kids would agree… a lot."

Sonali tapped his skull and leaned in. "Some things are better left unsaid, my love." Then she flung him from their bed. They laughed hysterically as Trunks hung upside down with his legs tangled in the sheets. His long lavender hair dusted the floor.

"Shhh!" Trunks could barely stifle his laughter. "We should probably lower our voices. I know my parents were up with the roosters today, and we know who'll be the grouchiest."

"Bulma."

Husband and wife clutched hands to strengthen their resolve. There would be a lot of that before the day's conclusion. Always the tease, Sonali squeezed Trunks' right bicep like an overripe apple. "Dude, you really should train more with dad. Your reaction time was pitiful."

Trunks pulled the raven-haired woman in for a kiss. He looked forward to celebrating with family and friends, and eating everything in sight. He also planned to honor the spirits those who weren't with them anymore. He felt humbled by these riches.

He just wasn't ready to wake up his rowdy children yet.

"Now that you have insulted me, I am going to shower alone," he said. "For the record, my reflexes are fine. It's sexy when you abuse me like that. We'll discuss your adopted dad later. I'm still pissed that he lets you say that while I can't. I did for a while as a kid."

"Get over it," Sonali replied. "You know Vegeta does it to tease you and means no harm, so I'm happy to join in the fun. Here you are, a grown man, acting like a special snowflake because you can't call your meat-eating, cigar-chomping, rib-cage beating warrior of a father 'daddy.' What's stopping you?"

Trunks laughed out loud. "Oooh, you've spent far too much time around my old man. You're practically his philosophical twin."

"And I'm surprised dad hasn't forced you to train with him daily to get your priorities straight," Sonali said.

Trunks frowned. "And this is the second time you've commented about that. I am not my father. Are you finished, or shall I find my armor?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry." Sonali said, caressing his chest. "My teasing went too far. Now hurry so we can gather the kids before brunch. I'll join you in the shower shortly."

When they arrived the week before, the couple hoped Bulma's planned entertainment for their fraternal twins, Tery and Tasmin, would keep them busy. This time she wisely handed the duty to Vegeta, who was given free rein. On past visits the family rarely knew beforehand what "team-building exercises" the Saiyan prince had planned for the kids. That was his new word for what everyone else simply called training.

He also refused being called "grandpa," preferring "elder" instead.

The twins found their grandfather mysterious and fascinating - cool, even. His quiet observation of their activities kept them on guard, which Vegeta enjoyed immensely. He also didn't tolerate much sassiness, sternly instructing the little boy and girl to save their backtalk for others, and to be clever with their insults. "Family tradition," he called it. Once she found out, Bulma angrily told him to stop inventing false rituals. Vegeta ignored her, knowing that his wife was just as terrible when they were younger. He once said the creativity behind her vulgarities rivaled the worst he heard from mortals across three galaxies. He had no use for rewriting history, especially when the facts caused no one harm. Keeping one's mouth shut was more effective. He was good at it.

Despite his father's controversial and often hilarious life lessons, his son valued the effort. For two weeks Trunks didn't have to be chief disciplinarian or entertainer while on holiday. Vegeta did not want his son and daughter-in-law to thank him. Their appreciation was understood. It always would be.

Trunks dried his wife's back in silence. Sonali wondered at first if he remained annoyed about her earlier comments. She decided to open a broader chat to help clear his mind. They had to stick together today.

He's just thinking too hard. "Trunks, remind me to never go out with your sister or her friends or your mother like that again. That bachelorette party Thursday night almost killed me, and I certainly didn't expect to see two strippers."

"Wait." Trunks eyes snapped wide open. "Did you just say two strippers? No one said anything about adult entertainment!"

Trunks' response surprised and amused Sonali. This was Bulma and Bulla, after all. Those two were completely out of their minds. They were also headstrong, tough, brilliant, loyal, and loving. And they were completely out of their minds.

"Yeah." Sonali looked into the mirror and began to brush her hair. "The guys were cute, but I got bored and left the room. How did things go with your party?"

Trunks blinked. His mother's role in this worried him more than his wife's. Vegeta probably would have busted an artery had he known - then again, maybe not. As a teen, when he was discovering his own sexuality, Trunks suspected his parents watched porn together. He had blocked the thought from his memory until that moment.

He shuddered at the horror of it all. It was time to move on.

"We had a great time," he said. "But by the end of the night I alone had to ensure that six shit-faced drunk guys left the gentlemen's club safely, including Bulla's soon-to-be spouse. Father said early on that he wouldn't assist with slave labor."

"Oh my god, Trunks!" Sonali slapped him on the back. "Vegeta went with you?! So he was in a jolly mood. Why did you wait so long to tell me? Bulma must have been delighted."

Trunks examined their dress clothes more closely. He hadn't seen Vegeta's wedding attire yet, and he wasn't excited about helping him dress. His father would likely bitch all the way through it. Then, when he looked fantastic, which Vegeta always did, Trunks never got any credit.

During these moments Bulma secretly joked about how much her "stinky Saiyan" had changed from when they first met. She and Vegeta were each other's pillar of strength and best friend, and they were growing older together with grace. Perhaps the only person at first who thought their relationship would last was Son Goku, the everlasting, good-natured optimist. He had been like that since Bulma knew him as a child.

"Well, honey, calling Vegeta 'jolly' would be bizarre anyway, but I know when he's enjoying himself," Trunks said. "After playing pool with me, father sat alone in the back room smoking one of the cigars my sister gave him as a gift. Before leaving, he put his hand on my shoulder, handed me his suit jacket and car keys, and flew off."

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"He was troubled, Sonali. I always know early, sometimes before mom now. You know what he said at the hotel yesterday before I could ask? 'If I have not told Bulma yet, do not expect me to tell you.' I mean, how does one respond to that?"

Sonali looked up at him. "Trunks, why are you acting like this behavior is brand new? You lived in that man's home for 18 years. You're much closer now than you have ever been, so I think he will likely share this so-called problem. Give him time. Now, let's play a game. Can you guess why he likes me so much?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Trunks wrapped a towel around his waist and crossed his arms. "You're both introverted."

"Correct, and the majority of your family and friends aren't, including you. Think about it. People have roamed the main house and wedding site all week. Our wedding was small, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Trunks said. "It drove mom crazy."

"It also caused the worst argument between your parents that I had ever seen," Sonali said. "I knew they wouldn't break up or anything, but I also didn't realize how strongly Vegeta felt about giving us a private ceremony. According to your sister, he vowed to leave Earth for a year if Bulma didn't back down."

"Oh, please." Trunks said, scratching his chin. "You've got to be kidding me. That would have been a disaster."

"It wasn't the wisest plan, Trunks. The point is Vegeta knew I would have been overwhelmed and understood how I felt. These last few days before the Bulla's wedding have probably strained him. I feel it too. Being alone with his grandkids has been good for him overall, I believe."

Trunks kissed Sonali's neck and whispered in her ear. "I agree, and it has been great for our sex life. Thank heavens I married such wise woman, who also happened to be gorgeous."

Seeing the wicked look in his eyes, Sonali promptly spread her fingers across his face like a spider. "Oh, don't you dare! We had our fun this morning, and your mother is tense enough as it is. We won't add to her anxiety by being late."

Grumbling loudly, Bulma stampeded on her arm-crutch through her estate's main hall. She looked angelic in her crème-colored pantsuit, an outfit as flawless as her hair and makeup, but she was all devil that morning. The startled helpers hired for the wedding moved from her path in haste, parting like Red Sea. Her anger decreased somewhat after the tailor delivered her mother-of-the-bride dress. She would look spectacular in it.

"Where is everyone?!" she howled. "Why can't they be on time?! My own brats aren't even here. Where are the in-laws? Fuck it. I'm taking a case of champagne to the beach. My job is done."

"Hey, uh, mother, why don't you hand me the champagne glass?" Trunks said softly. "We have several toasts today, and father and I aren't pulling you off the banquet table this time."

Bulma raised the half-empty crystal flute and spun around in her chair. Portraits shook along the walls. Holding hands, Trunks and Sonali stepped backward.

"Oh, lay off of me, Boy Scout," she barked. "You know I don't get to drink that often now, and just because your father starts off quiet with his alcohol buzz doesn't mean he's immune from acting like a fool. Remember when he pranced around at our silver wedding anniversary reception swearing in two languages? The guests thought he was entertaining, laughing along with him, not knowing the horrific things he said."

Trunks flinched at that unpleasant memory. Piccolo, the wise and stoic Namekian sage, first brought the problem to his attention. He, too, knew those dialects well enough to understand what Vegeta was doing. Trunks and friends managed to remove his father, realizing how close the prince was to offending everyone in their own language - or blowing holes in the walls.

So yeah, these were moments in which his parents were far from graceful around others, but friends who knew them well accepted that long ago. Vegeta and Bulma's grace came from within their spousal bond. Sonali told Trunks the night after they married she hoped their union would be that strong, aside from arguments. He held his wife close for reassurance but said nothing. How his folks lasted this long was nothing short of a miracle. They had worked hard and deserved happiness for however long it endured.

Trunks never took their abundance for granted. It had been almost two years since Bulma had a stroke. She was stricken at her office three weeks after his parents' anniversary. Her left side was semi-paralyzed, which devastated everyone, especially Vegeta, who immediately sought supernatural help beyond traditional medicine. Dende, Earth's guardian, said he couldn't heal her without doing it for everyone. Illness was a part of life. Exceptions were given sometimes, but the reasons for them had to be rock-solid. Vegeta was angry, but he accepted the decision. His response would have been much uglier in the past.

He watched the physical therapist for almost a month until he became impatient with Bulma's progress and took over. At first he worried about overworking her, at least by human standards, but her state of mind wasn't good. He saw her slipping away. Full recovery was the expectation, and no matter how much his wife cried and cursed him, Vegeta stood firm. She was a Saiyan's mate and she would fight. End of story.

Bulma's speaking had been affected as well. Trunks and Bulla knew their father had been deeply hurt by that too, blaming himself for her impairment. He had been unaware earlier that day when she became ill. An assistant had found her on the floor. It was the first and only time since they partnered that Vegeta had relaxed psychic connection to his wife and children.

Trunks took a huge breath to set aside those thoughts. Though her words came out more slowly, his mother was once again giving orders like a drill sergeant. He gently grasped her left arm and smiled. She was beautiful in many ways.

Bulma handed her champagne glass to him and sniffed. "And just what are you grinning at, son?"

"Mom, here, let me help you stand. Perhaps you should take five minutes and see our back yard. People are gathering there now. "

"And they're still late." Bulma tapped her crutch on the floor imperiously. "Sonali, darling, aren't you coming with us?"

"I'll join you soon, Dr. Brief. I need to inspect the twins."

Bulma gave her a disapproving look. "The nanny should have them properly dressed already, honey."

Trunks winked at his wife. What a fine day this would be.

Bulma intensely loved her Saiyan prince and their biracial children. They had been tireless supporters after her stroke. Since then they had also become more overprotective, which she understood, but it was getting on her nerves. Vegeta, especially, was furious when she asked him not to track her ki signature while she attended their daughter's party. She wanted to have a good time and get a little tipsy without stress.

Mostly Bulma wanted her husband to trust himself again. He was strong in countless ways, but, when it came to her, his emotions were becoming more like tissue paper, and she didn't like it. She always welcomed Vegeta being comfortable enough to show emotion with her, but there was more to this. She felt like they had been reversing roles ever since her recovery. Unless he faced more war battles, he likely had a long road ahead given Saiyans' life span. Bulma did not. Humans hadn't effectively mastered the art of extending lives past 110 years without some disability, with some exceptions. Most weren't fortunate enough to learn magic either, which could extend life-expectancy. Those powers were for the greater good, same as the Dragon Balls.

But Bulma didn't see herself anywhere close to death. Vegeta's job was to fight, defend Earth, and teach others to do the same without hesitation. She planned to forcefully remind him that morning, but he didn't awaken her like he usually did. He always kissed her head once and left. But that didn't happen.

Trunks looked around the back yard. "Where is Vegeta, mom? I can't sense him right now."

"I don't know where he is, son. I hoped you could tell me."