Bulma slowly slid out of bed, trying hard not to wake her husband. The bed squeeked, and she glanced at Vegeta's face.
"Good, he's still sleeping," she thought to herself.
She pulled her soft plaid robe over her nightgown and searched for her slippers.
"Aha!" she cried, locating them under the bed.
As she put them on her feet, she heard a groan from the bed.
"Vegeta, did I wake you? I'm sorry."
She sat beside the prince and stroked his widow's peak. Vegeta yawned, and started to sit up, but winced.
"Lay back down," Bulma urged, "you had a busy day. I would expect you to still be tired and sore."
Vegeta did as he was told for once. Bulma craddled his head in her lap.
"I can't believe I have to go to a business meeting all day today, just after I get you back!"
"I'll be here when you get home, Bulma. I promise you I won't self-destruct."
Bulma looked him over, worried.
"Are you sure you'll be okay? I know you're a little sore now, but are there any injuries Dende might have somehow missed?"
Vegeta smirked.
"You're acting like Chi-Chi, woman. Don't worry about me. I'm not a weakling human, you know."
Bulma chose to ignore his last statement.
"I'll go get us some breakfast and bring it up."
Bulma got quite a shock when she reached her kitchen. Chi-Chi was cooking in it!
"Good morning, Bulma. How are you all doing? I thought you'd be so busy getting ready for your meeting, so I decided to make you breakfast. I'm in a cooking mood."
"T-thank you, Chi-Chi," Bulma managed to say as she was handed a hot tray of food.
"Go have it in bed," Chi-Chi insisted, "you must be drained from yesterday. Having a husband die on you is upsetting, something I know all to well!"
Bulma thanked Chi-Chi again and returned to her bedroom.
"Vegeta, are you asleep?" called Bulma softly as she entered.
"No."
He paused. His back was towards her, but he could smell the food Chi-Chi had cooked.
"How'd you make breakfast so quickly?"
"Chi-Chi came over and treated us to a meal."
She settled down on the foot of the bed, facing Vegeta, and set down the tray. The prince gingerly sat up and began to eat with his wife. After a few silent minutes, Bulma spoke.
"Vegeta, I've scheduled a doctor's appointment for you before my meeting."
Vegeta nearly choked on his toast.
"Wha=what?!? Bulma!"
"Vegeta, I know you're probably just fine, but better safe than sorry."
"Bulma, Dende healed me! I don't need a doctor!"
"I know. But according to Son-kun, you took quite a beating yesterday defending him from Majin Buu. Besides," she continued, holding his shoulders and looking him in the eyes, "I'd feel a lot better if you did."
"Fine," Vegeta grumbled, "but it's a waste of money."
"He'll be just fine after some rest. If you're sore, just take a couple of Tylenol," Dr. Chela Flores told the couple.
Bulma thanked her and walked outside with her husband. Vegeta looked smug.
"I told you I was fine."
"But now I don't have to worry about you during my meeting," Bulma explained, wrapping her arms around Vegeta's slim waist. She held him tight for a moment before the started back to the car.
"I'll drop you off at home before going to my meeting. Remember to get lots of rest."
Vegeta started up the stairs, planning to go back to bed.
"Where were you?" a voice whimpered.
Vegeta looked up. His little son, Trunks, sat on the top step, clutching his blanket. He looked much younger than eight.
"Your Mama got worried and took me to the doctor."
"Where is she?"
"At her meeting."
As Vegeta approched the boy, he realized he'd been crying.
"Trunks, why are you so upset?" he demanded.
The boy stared at his feet.
"I didn't know where you were. I was scared."
"Trunks, there's nothing to be scared of now," Vegeta reasoned.
"Majin Buu is dead. Besides, you could have felt our ki and known where we were."
Trunks nodded silently.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" Vegeta asked.
"No."
"There's some left-overs on the counter. I'll be in my room."
Vegeta kicked off his shoes, eased himself down on the bed, and dozed off. Ten minutes later, the phone rang, jolting him awake. He cursed the instrument, then answered it.
"What do you want?" he growled.
"Hi Vegeta! It's me -"
"I know who you are, Kakarrot."
"How are you doing?" Goku asked in a concerned voice.
"I'm fine, Dende healed me, remember?"
"Yeah...but Chi-Chi said Bulma took you to the doctor."
Vegeta rolled his eyes.
"That woman's just melo-dramatic."
"I guess. Trunks is okay, isn't he?"
"He's fine."
Goku started to talk in a soft, serious voice.
"It's been sort of awkward for Goten, I think, with me around."
Great. Now Kakarrot wanted to have an intimate conversation.
"Well, he only met you yesterday."
"That's true. I know he would really like to see Trunks. Is it okay if he comes over?"
"Kakarrot, he practically lives here. He and Trunks are always at one of our houses together."
"So it's okay?"
"I don't care."
"Do you feel up to training today, or are you supposed to stay in bed?"
"I told you I'm fine! Is that so hard to get through your brain?"
"Sorry, sorry! We'll be right over," he said, hanging up.
Grumbling, Vegeta crawled out of bed and got dressed.
"Hi Trunks!" cried Goten, running towards his friend.
The two boys scampered off to Trunks' room.
"Did Bulma object to your training?" Goku asked.
"Would you just shut up about that? I'm not dying!" Vegeta snapped.
"You were a little while ago," Goku reminded him.
They began sparring on the back lawn. For a while, both were silent. Finally, Goku spoke.
"That was some battle yesterday. I'm sure glad everything turned out okay."
"If it hadn't, we would still be fighting," Vegeta pointed out.
"You're right," Goku said grinning, "we don't give up. Although I can't say I did a whole lot near the end of the battle. I just sort of stood with my arms in the air, watching you get seriously injured..."
"Humph. Now of course we actually do owe that ignoramus something."
"You mean Mr. Satan?"
"That's what I said."
Goku smiled. Vegeta was no longer evil, but he still had his pride and temper.
Goku left with his son a few hours later, after lunch. Vegeta was finally able to get the several hours of rest he was supposed to have. When he woke up, Mrs. Briefs was gently shaking him, saying it was time for dinner.
"Bulma called," she announced at the table. "She said she'd be home by ten-thirty. I told her you and Goku had done some training and that you were sleeping at the moment."
Vegeta grumbled something about Bulma killing him when she got home.
That night, Vegeta lay awake, waiting for his mate. He glanced at the clock. It was ten 'o clock. Trunks had gone to bed an hour ago. Vegeta wondered if Bulma would be angry at him for training. Most likely so, but that was fine with him. He loved the way the woman's eyes shone when she was mad. Suddenly, a scream broke his concentration. He could hear Trunks yelling, "Papa!" Vegeta hurried to his son's room.
"Papa! Papa!"
"Trunks! What happened?" Vegeta asked.
Trunks was hugging himself and sobbing.
"Trunks?"
He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Trunks reached out and hugged Vegeta's leg tightly.
"Trunks, what happened?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.
The little boy took a few moments to catch his breath, then whimpered, "I had a bad dream."
"You know better than to be scared of bad dreams," Vegeta scolded him.
"I know. But it was about the fight."
"The fight's over."
"In my dream," Trunks said shaking a little, "you were dead again. And we couldn't wish you back..." he sniffed, "and I found your body...and..."
He cried again, and before Vegeta could do a thing about it, snuggled into his father's arms. For a second, Vegeta sat in shock, then he leaned back and held his son close, allowing him to soak his shirt with tears.
"Don't worry, Trunks," he said as comfortingly as he could muster, "your Mama will be home soon. It was only a dream. Everyone's okay now."
Eventually, Trunks stopped crying. His body stopped heaving and shaking, and he fell asleep. Vegeta didn't want to wake him, and fell asleep as well, his son in his arms.
THE END