"Vegeta, for Kami's sake, they're right here." Bulma pulled the boots out of the back of her walk-in closet. Vegeta snatched them out of her hands.

"What the hell are they doing in your closet?" Bulma frowned and put her hands on her hips.

"Don't you yell at me, mister! I moved some of your stuff into my closet when I was being nice and cleaning shit out of yours!" Vegeta glared at the woman.

"If you didn't have so much shit, we wouldn't have to have separate closets in the first place," he growled. Bulma's eyes grew wide.

"What the hell, Vegeta? What is your problem? They're just boots!" Vegeta's eyes grew wide.

"They're my boots, woman!"

"I know that, but you have five more pairs that are just like these!" Vegeta was starting to get really pissed off.

"Shut up, woman! You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Suddenly the boots were out of his hands and in Bulma's.

"What is so special about these damn things?" she muttered as she began inspecting them. Vegeta growled.

"Give them back," he said in a low voice. Bulma glanced at him. He didn't use that tone often. He was serious. But so was she.

"I don't think so, buster. Not until you tell me what's so special about them." Vegeta stood staring at her, his fists clenched at his sides. Bulma looked at him curiously. She had never seen him get so bent out of shape over clothes before. He didn't usually care about material possessions at all. She looked back at the boots. Now that she thought about it, he'd had those boots as long as she could remember. They were different from the others…they were beat up and no longer looked white and pristine like his other pairs. She cocked her head to the side. "Vegeta," she said, taking on a softer tone. "Honey…are these from Namek?" Vegeta frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Maybe," he muttered. Bulma raised her eyebrows.

"Did…were they….from, um…"

"Yes, they were from Frieza," Vegeta snapped. Bulma swallowed and nodded.

"Then…why did you keep them?" Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"Woman…"

"Vegeta, I'm not trying to pry."

"Yes you are."

"Okay, maybe I'm trying to pry a little bit. But I've never seen you get so bent out of shape over shoes before! I didn't know you cared."

"I don't." Bulma furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "I don't care about shoes."

"You sure as hell seem to care about these."

"I don't give a damn about those!" Bulma gave him an incredulous look and he groaned in exasperation. "I don't care about the boots! I care about what's in them." Bulma looked at him curiously, before peering inside of the now off-white boots.

"I don't see anything." Vegeta rubbed his temple.

"That's the bloody point." Bulma looked at Vegeta perplexedly.

"What? I'm so lost." Losing his patience, Vegeta grabbed the boots from his mate's hands.

"Damnit, woman, give me the boots!" He carefully pulled back the top of the right boot. Bulma shook her head.

"Nothing." Vegeta nodded.

"Yes, it would seem that there is nothing. But…" Running his finger over the inside of the top of his boot, a small slit became visible. Bulma slightly titled her head to the side.

"What's that?" In response, Vegeta slid two of his fingers inside the small opening, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Bulma's eyes grew wide. "Wha-" Wordlessly, Vegeta handed her the paper, and sat down on the bed. He looked away from his mate. Bulma furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at the small piece of paper. Carefully, she unfolded it, and gasped.

Staring up at her was a picture of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Long, thick black hair cascaded down past her shoulders and stopped at her tiny waist. She had big, violet eyes that seemed to sparkle in the light, and a beautiful smile spread across her face, mid-laugh. She was small in stature and wore a long, crimson red dress that elegantly showed off her figure. Around her neck were a string of blue beads and on her head was a circlet made of gold.

In her arms was a young boy who looked to be no older than two. He had long, spikey black hair, that stood straight up above his head, and a dramatic widow's peak. His eyes were as dark as night and opened wide. He wore a white, short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of navy blue shorts that revealed his short, chubby legs. But what struck Bulma the most was his face. The little boy had the biggest smile on his face, a look of pure joy. He looked completely carefree and happy. She looked over at her mate, who was now looking at her. He gave a curt nod, confirming her thoughts.

"And she's…?" Vegeta gave another nod.

"Yes. My Mother." Tears welled up in Bulma's eyes as she rushed towards him.

"Ohh, Vegeta!" He groaned as she leapt on top of him.

"Kami woman, get off of me." Bulma ignored him and continued to hug the Saiyan prince.

"This is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life," she gushed. Vegeta rolled his eyes. Carefully, he lifted the small woman off of him and set her on the bed next to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Woman…" Bulma shook her head.

"No, seriously Vegeta, you've kept this all this time?"

"No, it just suddenly appeared a few weeks ago." Bulma ignored his sarcasm and beamed at him.

"Vegeta, you are so-"

"Don't say it…"

"Sweet." he groaned.

"I am not sweet, you ignorant, insane woman!"

"Yes you are, Vegeta! You kept this after all these years to remember your Mother by! It's the sweetest-"

"I am not sweet, I'm a warrior!" Vegeta angrily shot to his feet. "And that's the end of this blasted conversation!" Bulma sighed as she watched him stomp out of the room. He could be so sensitive sometimes. It was adorable, though she would never dare tell him. He really did care, though he'd be damned if he willingly showed it. She chuckled to herself as an idea entered her mind. Perhaps she would just have to help him show it…

Vegeta dragged himself into the bathroom, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. After a rigorous twelve hour training session, the only thing on his mind was a hot shower and sleep. His muscles ached as he pulled off his clothes and stepped into the hot water. It beat down against his shoulders, relaxing them and his back. He stood there under its warmth for a little longer than usual, before reluctantly getting out. Not bothering to put anything on, he opened the door into his and Bulma's bedroom. He wearily dragged himself over to the dresser and slipped on a pair of boxers before collapsing on the bed.

He subconsciously scanned the house for Bulma's ki, finding it in the kitchen. He thought it was odd that she was up so late, but figured as long as she was safe, it didn't matter. Her ki was quite calm. She was probably just getting a midnight snack. He chuckled to himself. The woman always griped and moaned about him and the brat eating so much, but by human standards, she was just as bad. Smirking to himself, he rolled over to face the nightstand, and gasped. Sitting up quickly, he stared at it, shock on his face.

Sitting on their nightstand was a small black frame. It had always been there, and used to outline a picture of Bulma as a child. It had originally been in Bulma's room, for whatever reason, and when they had started sharing a room she'd brought it with her. She had bright blue eyes, a braided blue ponytail, and a short pink dress. He had found it rather cute, though he would never dare tell her. But that picture was no longer there. Instead the picture that was now in the small frame was his. His picture…of him and his Mother.

Vegeta stared at the picture for a long time, a tight feeling in his chest. It was the same feeling he'd gotten when Trunks had said he'd forgiven him, the same feeling he'd gotten when he'd returned home to Bulma. He wanted to lie down and go to sleep, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of it. Not even when he felt her ki exiting the kitchen, walking up the stairs, entering the room, and sitting down beside him. It wasn't until he felt kisses on his neck that he was finally able to pull himself from the image in the little black frame.

Her crystal blue eyes bore into him, her pink lips pulling into a smile at his acceptance of her gesture. Perhaps others wouldn't have known that he accepted it, that he appreciated it, but she knew. She always knew. He found himself fighting back a smirk and he quickly shook his head in an attempt to hide it.

"Woman…"

"I know, Vegeta. You're welcome." She winked. Vegeta couldn't help but let the smirk stretch across his face. She really could be so damn cute. Bulma stroked his arm lovingly.

"I wish I could have met her," she whispered. The silence that followed was expected. Bulma had tried many times to get Vegeta to talk about his family and his life before Frieza. At first it was always met with anger, but over the years it had just turned to silence. Sometimes she'd get a grunt, or even a few words. But Vegeta chose to leave most of it to silence, and Bulma had learned to accept that. So when he began to speak, to say she was surprised was an understatement.

"You…would have liked her," he said softly. Bulma silently commanded herself to stay calm. She let a gentle smile cross her lips as she tried to think of exactly what to say to keep him talking.

"You think so? What was she like?" Vegeta shrugged and Bulma felt her heart drop a little. More silence. But to her surprise, he kept going.

"I was five when I…last saw her. I only remember her through a child's eyes." He looked back at the picture and stared for a few moments.

"Yet…you still think I'd like her?" Bulma gently pressed. She knew she was probably pushing her luck, but she couldn't help it. Vegeta smirked and shrugged again.

"She was…" Bulma raised an eyebrow as she watched crimson flood his cheeks. "…like you," he muttered. Bulma cocked her head to the side.

"Like me?" Vegeta nodded slightly.

"She was very…gentle. And happy. She was always happy, always smiling." A smirk pulled at his lips. "But damn, if you pissed her off…she could be ruthless. You've never met someone so stubborn." He chuckled. "Not towards me though. She was soft towards me. Too soft. Like you and the brat." Bulma smiled.

"She sounds perfect." Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Of course she does to you," he said, a twinkle in his eye. Leaning forward, he pulled her into a deep kiss, his fingers tangled in her hair. A small rumbling filled his chest, almost like a purr, as her lips pressed against his. He pulled away only for a brief moment to whisper words he once thought he would never say.

"Thank you."