Since this fanfic involves one of my favorite anime couples,
there will probably be a lot of mushiness involved and they may be a
little out of character (OOC). This was written during the party Bulma
gave at Capsule Corps, after the defeat of Majin Buu. If you liked it,
please let me know. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All Dragonball characters and concepts were developed by
the talented Akira Toriyama and all those other Japanese subsidiaries
who own the franchise.


TWO OF A KIND


Bulma danced to the pulsing beat of the music as she allowed
herself to relax and enjoy the party. Everyone had made it, except for
Gokou, who was probably out on one of his crazy adventures again. Even
Dende managed to sneak away for a while from Kami's tower for a while.

Everything had been perfect. Despite popular opinion that she
was terrible cook, she had managed to throw a spectacular bash, even
pitching in to do the barbecuing. There was only one thing missing
from the picture...her reluctant and brooding husband who assumed his
usual position away from the rest of the gang.

Vegeta was sitting at a table in the corner of the room as
relaxed as he could possibly be. He had one arm casually draped over a
chair, while his other hand rested on the table, tapping to the music.
It was probably the first time he ever allowed himself to even relax,
she mused. Bulma could have sworn that he was actually enjoying
himself, despite his demeanor.

She would have loved for him to come over and join her, but
that would have been like trying to get an elephant into a tutu. He
almost never did anything together with her in public, unless she
forced him to.

They hadn't had a chance to really be alone together ever
since he returned from the final battle with Majin Buu. The moment
she saw him, she had wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him
senseless, but knowing how he felt about public displays of affection,
she had instead just winked knowingly to her son, who was thrilled to
have his Papa back. Well, if Mohammed wouldn't come to the mountain,
the mountain would just have to go to Mohammed.

Bulma walked purposefully over to Vegeta and began to drag him
away from the table, much to his consternation.

"What do you think you're doing, woman?" he demanded irritably.

Bulma didn't stop, despite his protests, until they were out
on the terrace, away from everybody. Alone at last.

"There, this is more cozy, don't you think?"

"I hate it whenever you get this way," he muttered.

"And what way is that?" she asked teasingly.

"You know...you get...all...sentimental," he replied
uncomfortably.

She laid her hands on his chest, leaning closer until they were
nose to nose.

"I never got to welcome you home properly," she whispered
huskily.

He looked at her quizzically.

"What do you mean by that?"

Bulma chuckled at his look of utter confusion.

"You know, for an elite warrior, you sure can be clueless
sometimes."

She leaned in to kiss her husband passionately, wrapping her
arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him against her.

Vegeta brought his hands to her her arms to push her away, but
the moment he felt her silky soft skin, he wrapped his arms around her
waist and the returned the kiss with equal passion. It had been far too
long.

It was a looong time before they finally separated for air.
Bulma rested her head against his shoulder in complete contentment.

"I honestly thought you were gone forever," she admitted quietly.
She hadn't even realized that she truly loved him until he was gone.

"I'm sure you were dancing for joy at the thought of not having
me around anymore," he replied sarcastically.

Bulma pulled back to look at him in disbelief.

"How can you even say that?"

"I'm not exactly Prince Charming."

"FAR from it," she replied cheekily.

"You didn't have to be so agreeable," he muttered under his
breath.

"Vegeta, when Gokou told me that you were dead, I...I felt like
I had died inside. I wanted to die too, if you were gone forever."

Vegeta released her and turned away, so as not to show how much
her words had affected him. For the first time in his life, someone
actually cared if he lived or died. He had always been cold and e
motionless, except when it came to combat. That he could handle, but
damned, if he knew how to handle these other kinds of emotions he had
kept suppressed for so long. Vegeta's stubborn pride wouldn't allow him
to betray and type of response to her.

He flinched involuntarily when he felt her hand on his cheek as
she turned him back to her. Her luminous blue eyes reflected raw emotion
as she spoke.

"Vegeta, look at me. I know that deep down, there IS a part of
you that cares for Trunks and me. Don't you think that after all we've
been through, you could finally admit it, if only to me?"

He pulled away from her hand.

"What do you want from me?" he asked roughly.

Bulma refused to be brushed aside and stood her ground.

"I want to be more than your lover. I am your WIFE and I want
to be treated that way. Vegeta, we've been together for almost 10 years,
and sometimes I feel like I don't even know you."

"There are some things, you should never know," he replied quietly.

"That didn't stop me from having your child...or falling in love
with you," she finished softly.

"Do you actually believe that your so called 'love' can solve
everything?" he snarled in contempt. "It's just some stupid, sentimental,
fleeting emotion that turns sane people into mindless simpletons. Love is
for weaklings."

"Oh really?" Bulma replied skeptically.

She at least knew her husband well enough to know that he was
protesting far too strongly, which usually meant that he was only hiding
the truth. He often said himself, that the a lie is the truth and the truth
is a lie.

"Look, I just want to be a part of your life. Is that too much to
ask?"

"You ask too much," he admitted. "I stayed here with you and the
brat, didn't I? What more do you want from me?"

Bulma braced herself, for what she was about to say next.

"Would you have stayed with us if you could do it all over again?"
she asked, her voice slightly quivering with nervousness.

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"An honest one," she admitted quietly. "I know you've never been
happy being forced to live here on Earth with us, and I know that you never
expected to become a father. It's only natural that you'd still be bitter."

Vegeta crossed his arms in his usual arrogant stance.

"So that's what you think?"

"You've never given me any reason to think otherwise."

"Hmph. And you say that I'M clueless. Baka," he replied teasingly.
"Don't you realize, woman, that the only reason I'm still here is because
of you and the boy?"

Bulma's eyes reflected hope.

"Really?"

"Who ELSE would I put up with?" he countered back.

Bulma smiled at her husband. He may not be all sweetness and light,
but he was hers, and she still loved him, warts and all.

She closed the gap between them and kissed Vegeta tenderly,
wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That's all I needed to hear," she murmured against his lips.

Bulma gasped in familiar pleasure as she felt his hands cup her
bottom possessively before moving up her back to pull down the zipper of
her dress, smirking as usual.

"Vegeta, we can't," she protested, trying to unsuccessfully push
him away.

"Why not?" he murmured agains her neck, as his lips traced her
collarbone as he backed her against one of the lounge chairs nearby.

"Here? Now? What will the others think?"

"Do you think I give a damn what they think?" he replied arrogantly.

Bulma saw the look of desire, burning in her husband's fathomless
dark eyes and grinned wickedly.

"You're right. Who cares?" she agreed, pulling him against her and
anchoring his hip with one leg curled around his waist.

Vegeta smiled knowingly to his woman...no, his wife.

"There's the dirty girl I married," he replied before proceeding to
make love to her while the others at the party began to wonder where their
hostess had disappeared to.

Chibi Trunks had just smiled mischievously. He knew exactly where Mama was
and who she was with.


THE END