HIIIIII EVERYBODY! Sorry I took so long to update, just haven't been in the zone lately and wasn't sure what direction I wanted to go in yet! I've been dreaming about these two this week and you can likely expect a new fic sometime soon, but for now here's an update that some of you are hopefully still waiting for. Thanks for your patience, and tread carefully there's just a little bit of lemon in here, and some adult themes. Don't forget to review and I won't forget to update 3

A golden ray of warmth cut a path through tangled sheets, bathing the woman in morning light. She showed no sign of waking, secured in the shelter of his body as he held her firmly with his forearm draped along her waist. He could feel the gentle expansion of her back against his chest, found peace in the ebb and flow of her breath that kept him from leaving her side. What reason did he have to rise? No threat lay on the horizon. No rival awaited defeat. The dawn brought only tranquility in the form of Bulma's sleeping, silent form. He couldn't remember ever feeling so… so…

...Comfortable.

This is absurd. I'm a warrior! Not some soft, feeble earthling.

Shamefully reluctant, the prince extracted himself from the sleeping female and rolled onto his back, adjusting to the cool air where the heat of her body had been a moment before. Folding his hands behind his head, he flexed his stiff muscles group by group, relishing in the soreness with a satisfied yawn. The woman stirred, rolling to embrace him as his teeth clacked together and his eyes bore reproachfully into the crown of her head. He inhaled sharply to demand that she release him, but the words seemed to melt to a quiet sigh as her scent overtook his better senses. He couldn't bring himself to disturb her. Not yet.

How far I've fallen, he thought bitterly, sliding a hand from the back of his skull to rest it against her own. Her breath fluttered out to tease down along his abs from where her cheek pressed to his chest, and his fingers slid tentatively through her hair. It felt incredibly soft, and the color was so unique… like everything else about her. Her mind, her tenacity, her courage and beauty… even her capacity to forgive, which rivaled even Kakarot's.

Bulma had been a part of him since the first day of his second chance at life. Everything had changed after Namek. The way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him as though he weren't one of the most feared and notorious beings in the universe. As if, somehow, she had known that he could never harm her. Not physically, anyway.

He felt great remorse for abandoning her to train. Remorse, not regret. He had become legendary after all, and it had been worth everything to him. He would do it all again in a heartbeat, but tactfully, on better terms. He had been so focused on defeating the androids, Cell, and surpassing Kakarot that he'd pulverized his feelings for the woman in favor of getting stronger. She was a distraction, and with or without the gravity chamber she was more harmful than helpful where his training regimen was concerned. He'd grown to care for her during their time together, but after everything he was coming to realize that caring hadn't been the problem. Not really.

It had just been poor timing.

She had given him an heir that he would be proud of one day, had been steadfast and loyal despite his treatment of her. She had given him a place to live, the gravity room to train in, and had even devised new armor in the Saiyan style to aid them in their battle against Cell, when by all rights she should have wished him dead.

He hadn't thanked her once.

The saiyan's eyes fell shut, his brow furrowed in reflection. It made no sense for her to care for him at all, and the thought both distanced him from her and tied him to her inexplicably.

A pale, soft hand smoothed the tension from his stomach. "Whassamatter?" She mumbled, still half asleep. Vegeta's hand flinched from her hair as if she'd burned him, heat creeping up his neck to color the tips of his ears. He'd been lying there for far too long.

"Nothing, go back to sleep." He ordered in a low, rough voice.

She said nothing, but rather pressed her lips over his heart as her hand slid beneath the covers. Vegeta caught her wrist and flipped her onto her back, pinning her easily into the mattress. "Do you ever listen?" He growled into the hollow of her throat.

"No." She said simply, sounding entirely too pleased with herself.

The saiyan rose to have a look at her, regretting it instantly. Her eyes were half-mast and darker than usual, clouded from sleep, her lips apart and curved in the smallest smirk he'd ever seen. He swallowed slightly against the dryness in his throat, willing his eyes not to venture lower lest they never get out of this blasted room. His body had baser intentions.

"Come on Vegeta, it's only eight!" Taking advantage of his distraction, she tucked her legs up from between his and locked them around his waist. "You're not afraid of a little morning wood are you, tough guy?"

"Vulgar woman. There is nothing little about it." He seethed, pressing his entrance to prove it. Her sudden gasp and wide eyes affirmed what he believed to be true, and he reached back to catch her ankles in his grasp, unwinding her legs from his torso. Unable to help himself, he laid them up over his shoulders and rocked against her; just enough to whet her appetite. She flushed and groaned in response, and with a victorious smirk he untangled himself from temptation and rose from the bed to collect his things.

"You jerk!" Something soft and wide struck the back of his head, and he caught it on its way to the floor. A pillow. She'd thrown a pillow at a saiyan. How ridiculous.

He tore the sack of feathers in half and, without further ceremony, dumped its contents over her head.

"Vegeta!" She squealed, laughing as she shook the feathers from her hair, and he couldn't catch it in time – he smiled.

Bulma froze, shell shocked as the soft mass fell around her. Sure, Vegeta's whole brooding thing was sexy and all, but he was a vision when he smiled. Really smiled. She'd caught him smiling to himself on occasion, but to have him do so while looking directly at her was a fresh and thrilling experience. It clarified for her that she brought him happiness, that she made a difference in his life. It validated her every effort and had her falling in love with him all over again.

She knew it wasn't all in her head!

"Woman! Stop looking at me like that!"

The moment was gone too soon. He turned from her abruptly, securing his arms over his chest as he stared at the opposite wall. She could see the flush creeping up his neck, but failed to focus on it given the excellent view of his behind. "Like what!?" She asked innocently, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Like you're having an aneurysm!"

Bulma laughed, plucking her silk robe from the bed post. "Should I spontaneously combust instead?"

"Don't be foolish!"

"You're so bossy in the morning." She grumped, but on the inside she was overjoyed. Vegeta had spent the night with her. The entire night! He hadn't slunk off and left her the moment she'd fallen asleep, or even before she'd had the chance to wake up. That was a definite milestone in her books, right up there with his smile. The day would be full of surprises. "It's called a joke, Vegeta. You'd know that if you had a sense of humor." She left a trail of feathers on her way to the bathroom and shut the door, beginning her morning routine.

Bulma came back out some forty minutes later, and nearly fell over at the sight of him dressed and seated on the end of her bed. It wasn't like him to stick around, and she wondered for a moment if he was ill. Possessed? Dying!?

"Did you fall in the toilet, woman?" Before she had a proper moment to collect herself, he was up and walking past her to the bathroom. She had time to see him grab his toothbrush before he caught her eyes in the mirror, glared at her, and shut the door. Of course; all of his things had been moved into her room, and he wouldn't chance her criticism by not brushing his teeth. He'd been almost meticulously hygienic since that one time, years ago, that she'd told him he needed a bath. Bulma shook her head, laughing on the way to her walk in closet. Vegeta had rolled through it like a tornado, leaving her to step gingerly through the mess as she went about choosing an outfit. She settled on jean shorts and a dark blue tank top that matched the muscle shirt her prince had been wearing, then slipped her slender feet into a pair of comfortable black flats. Satisfied, she emerged to find him half way to her bedroom door, his belongings piled neatly in his arms.

"Oh…" She couldn't help the disappointment that colored her tone, and turned away quickly so he wouldn't see her face. To her surprise, he made a gruff sound in his throat and altered course, disappearing into her closet. When he came back, his arms were empty, and she couldn't help but fill them.

"Oh, Vegeta!" She cried as she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. His hands settled on her hips, and when she pulled away to look at him, his expression was unreadable. Happy as she was with this unexpected turn of events, she couldn't help the growing concern in her gut. "Are you feeling okay hun?" She pressed her wrist below his widow's peek, but he only rolled his eyes and brushed her arm away.

"I'm fine."

"I know. That's the strange thing." Bulma caught his hands before he could assume his usual defensive posture, pulling him with her to the bed. She sat on the edge, patting the place next to her, but instead of sitting down he made his way to her balcony doors. He didn't leave though, just propped his forearm against the frame, looking out over the property with his back to her.

"Vegeta?" She prodded impatiently, fidgeting. "What is it?"

His only response was the fist his fingers formed, and she allowed him a moment of silence. What had likely only been a minute or so had felt like an hour to her, and just when she'd been about to get up, he spoke.

"Bulma."

The way he said her name had her heart racing. His voice wrapped around it like a first kiss, gentle and tense and a little unsure.

"I don't know how to…" He began.

She tapped her fingers impatiently on her thigh, struggling not to bounce in place.

He growled, seeming as impatient with himself as she was. "I've never done this before. I'm not like that scar faced idiot, or some earthling out of that garbage you watch on television. I'm…" He paused, searching. "You know what I am. I don't think you can grasp the sheer magnitude of the things I've done, but you aren't… unintelligent. I'm sure you can imagine without me having to spell it out for you."

When at last he turned to face her, she was fixated by the chill radiating from those cold, black eyes.

"I was not bred for this, woman. I am not a human for you to dress up and drag around. I am a purebred saiyan. The last prince of a dying race. I am a warrior before any of this. Do you understand?"

Bulma nodded earnestly. "Of course I do Vegeta, I know all of this already. But it doesn't mean you can't be – "

"Listen to me, woman."

She closed her lips, swallowing the rest of her sentence in her unwillingness to interrupt him. He was opening up to her, telling her his honest truth, and she craved every word.

"I lost everyone and everything that mattered to me when I was very young. My only desire in life has been to avenge my people, and to become the most powerful being in the universe. I've never wanted a… a wife, as you would call yourself. With my race mostly obliterated, taking a mate and having a family was completely out of the question until I met you. It still was, but what's done is done."

Bulma rose from the bed then, crossing her arms over her chest. What's done is done? Is that what he thought of her and Trunks? Were they both some sort of mistake he couldn't take back?

"Well if THAT'S how you feel – "

"Bulma, you are the only woman I have ever been with."

Her eyes fluttered with disbelief, and her hand flew up to press against her heart. "What? You can't expect me to believe that Vegeta, look at you. All those planets –"

"-Were full of terrified populations that knew and feared me. Do you think women were lining up to be with me, knowing what I was there for? I wasn't a man to be desired. I was fear, and destruction." Vegeta looked away from her then, folding his arms protectively over his chest. Instinct told her to comfort him, but somehow she knew he wouldn't respect that. He knew his sins. No amount of sugar coating on her part would ever absolve them, or ease that weight from his shoulders.

"The past is in the past Vegeta. I know you've done horrible things, and I don't necessarily want to hear about them but you don't need to lie-"

His black eyes narrowed on her, his tone sharp. "What is it you think I'm lying about, woman?"

She swallowed hard, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. "You've killed planets full of people Vegeta. All kinds of people. It makes sense that you would have done… other things, too."

Vegeta blinked his confusion, and as if every vein had burst at once, his face went as red as she'd ever seen it. He balled his fists at his sides, growling through his teeth, and the floor beneath her feet began to shake with his fury.

"BLAST YOU WOMAN, I'M A WARRIOR NOT A RAPIST!"

Before she could say another word, Vegeta wrenched a balcony door from its hinges and took off like a shot into the overcast sky, leaving a very rattled Bulma alone in what had become their bedroom.

"I'm the only one…?" She whispered in amazement. Running out onto her balcony, she grasped the railing, leaning over it into the open air.

"I LOVE YOU, VEGETA!"

Thanks for reading, review if you enjoyed it or hated it or had any remotely significant emotional response that you can convey in words or whatever k bye!