~I've been rather busy with real life stuff so this update has taken a while to get out. I'm still avidly working on the chapters. Believe me when I say I absolutely am going to finish this story, come hell or high water. :) Also if you did not get a chance to read the author's notes on the last chapter, I suggest you do. It is in regard to Riane's pregnancy. Thank you again for reading!

Absentmindedly reading over the report for his latest mission detailing a few potential survivors, courtesy of their reconnaissance squad, Ariko stepped into the hanger to the largest Saiyan craft and made his way to the familiar cargo ship for a pre-flight inspection. Only when he approached it, he gave it a once over, then another in a double-take as he looked around, bewildered at the ship in front of him.

At first glance, he was confident it was the same one he and his team had used before, however it had now appeared to have been repaired to an almost unrecognizable new. The exterior had been freshly welded and riveted; no trace of bodywork seemingly held by visible adhesive, misshapen bolts and a ton of luck. Even the hatch door, which used to groan like the maw of a dying beast, opened smoothly to his skeptical astonishment revealing a flight deck of replaced electrical panels not swinging haphazardly on their hinges, piloting system that started up the first time, not the third time if they were fortunate, and even the ever-present musty smell of sweat and rusted iron had finally dissipated.

He stood for a while taking in all the repairs in wonderment of who could be responsible until his face darkened with realization. He grabbed the attention of the only mechanical engineer in the docking bay and sighed in irritation.

"Who did this?" Ariko asked exhaustively perturbed, knowing full well who was behind the 'miraculous aid', while he indicated to the ship.

The mechanic smiled slyly. "Ariko. I was wondering when you were going to show up. It's been, what? A month since-"

"I know how long it's been!" He bit back with harsh interruption. "Is Officer Mavi behind this?"

"She told me to tell you to see her about it."

"How did she manage to pay for this?" He asked, the corners of his cheek ticking with his grinding teeth.

The mechanic shrugged. "From what I heard, she still has money. There was also a rumor that the Commander was pissed at her for using credits towards this monstrosity. I can only imagine why she did this for the trackers." He alluded with a tone that hinted at the motive which caused Ariko to clench his teeth harder.

Lately, Mavi had been a persistent presence around him and he had begun to gather a liking to her bold, infectious personality. Yet, there were undertones of subtle touches, salacious jesting, and an implied possession of his free time leading him to think that she wanted more from him. Her attention was never rebuked or rebuffed, citing in his mind that she was just that way with everyone. He had become so engrossed with being a watchful eye over Andelia that he had only just recently noticed her affectionate attention was directed near solely on him.

He growled loudly as he stomped past the mechanic, tail swishing in annoyance behind him. Repairing his ship was the last provocation he could handle. Whatever she was up to needed addressing. He had every intention of halting her distracting advancement even at the cost of a friend he cared for.

Finding her was thankfully easy enough as he really wanted her to experience the full brunt of his vexation. She was lounging in unusually dainty form, on a long couch in the common area situated between the Elite dorms and the female dorms, grouped with several male Elites that looked up then quickly disregarded him when he rounded the corner. She glanced his way with a devious smile, as if she had been waiting for him.

Dismissing herself from the group, she strode over and brought Ariko to an empty portion of the hallway, away from earshot. She grinned coyly, undisturbed by his angry body language.

"Why hello, Ariko. What can I do for you?" She asked playfully.

"Spare me your teasing. I'm not in the mood. Why did you repair my ship?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she stretched her arms over her head and observed him under long lashes. "Can't a friend do something generous for another friend?"

"Not of that size." He lowered his voice in suspicion. "I do not like being indebted by force. Do not try to convince me it's a gift and that you seek nothing in repayment for your 'generosity'."

She sauntered a few steps past him as her tail unwound and grazed his hanging arm, his finger tight into his palm. When she turned back around to face him, her expression shifted from jovially coy to a domineering smirk under dusky eyes. The sudden allure of her reared up with alarming intensity that was difficult to ignore.

"You're right. I did not do it out of sheer kindness. You've been rather difficult to pin down and I found it an entertaining challenge. I have since run out of patience. I am going to be blunt: I want you and I know you want me."

There it was. An open invitation uttered into the space between them like an enticing toy ready to be played with.

Her first invitation he had interpreted as a spur of the moment, impulsive itch. He had declined then with the thought that she was vulnerable and he did not need the distraction. However, over the past six months of continuous contact that had been cultivated into a mutual friendship made this particular declaration that much more problematic.

Her rough, seductive tone elicited a strong twinge of desire. He took in a short breath of air as he bit his tongue, willing himself to not send signals to other places.

"I do not think that is wise." Ariko found himself enunciating every word with difficulty through his teeth as he tried to avoid direct eye contact. The amount of willpower keeping him from her felt excruciatingly torturous. The determination to maintain a neutral friendly atmosphere waned with every breath he could hear her take. A prickle rose on his arms as her proximity drew closer until he felt her hands on his biceps, her body inches from him.

Her pretty mouth drew up near his ear as she sighed. "And yet you keep playing my game."

His self-control snapped to indignant anger at her presumptuous scheming. Moving quicker than she could react, he grabbed both her arms roughly and pinned her against the closest wall. She yelped through a startled gasp as her back thudded against the metal surface, warping it slightly.

Ariko narrowed his eyes intently as a taut, veined hand crept up and latched around her throat.

"I am not a conquest." He coarsely hissed. Her heartbeat pulsed rapidly under his fingertips pressed into her flesh.

She met his glare with a taunting smirk, keeping her hands at her sides for the time being.

"Yes, you are. You enjoy it as much as I do." She replied undeterred while licking her lips lightly.

"You are conniving." A softness slinked up to his wrist and he watched her tail gently loop the hand at her neck. His fingers loosened as her scent wafted, sinking its delicious hooks into his thoughts.

What surprised him the most from this encounter was an Elite chased him, toyed with him, smelled so good at this range. It bothered him to realize she had immense strength at her disposal, she was surely stronger than him. Yet she stayed willing pinned in surrender under his hand.

His grip released enough for Mavi to coax his palm from around her throat to against her warm cheek. He closed his eyes, taking to memory the soft lower lip caressed by his thumb.

Her breath was hot on his digit. "You have yet to tell me to stop. All you've done is managed to delay the inevitable."

He opened his eyes again upon feeling her teeth nip at his thumb, wetting it with her tongue provocatively.

"Tell me to stop." She goaded.

His head screamed warning not to get involved with her.

"Tell me…"

He drew in air through his nose under weakening restraint.

"...to stop."

The lust in her eyes at the upfront invitation worn down the last of his resistance as he dove headfirst into her neck and pulled up her leg to wrap luciously around his waist in wanton desire.

"I can't." He murmured huskily into her skin.

The brightly lit hub began bustling with noise as the nightlife erupted from daytime slumber. At some point, Andelia found herself separated from her comrades, entrenched in the tumultuous hustle of bodies pushing past her as she found a less occupied place to stop, resting against a graffitied wall, trying to catch her breath. The sounds of street vendors hawking their wares, raucous laughter of beings milling past, and electronic voices in various galactic languages booming from flashing screens invaded her sensitive ears so loudly, she could hardly think. She tried to recall what Ariko told her in the event of separation but with all the distractions, she was unable to recover the important information. The only bit of information she could remember was that they were close.

Before the separation in the chaotic market, the other two trackers and herself were sure the one they were searching for was near. He went by 'The Collector' on the street. Collector of what, she didn't know. He was a Saiyan Elite and on special duty assignments before abandoning Frieza's forces. He was known for being a skilled interrogator and ruthless when torturing his interrogantes. She could only wonder what skills he had acquired as a way of surviving beyond the Cold Empire's clutches. From his brief biography alone, Adelia really did not want to be the first one to find him regardless of being one of their own.

The three of them had received intel from a creature paid off for his guidance, of a doorway hidden in a seedy district marked with an ice blue flamed silhouette to the left of a storefront sign that read, coincidentally, 'Tokens and Treasures' in the galactic tongue, fitting for their target's namesake. They were instructed to head to the back of the establishment to find another being that would direct them one step closer to their target. Then a wave of creatures pushed and shoved in a frenzied ruckus as a heated fight broke out, distancing herself from Keel and Ariko in a matter of moments. It would have been unwise to use her strength to drive her way back through as the Saiyans were still wanted and anyone who found one would be paid off handsomely for their services. That thought even came too late as Andelia was pushed into the noisy crowd in seconds that it was only then was she able to stop after searching fruitlessly for several minutes, place her hands over her ears and attempt to formulate a plan of action.

Determined that she would not be beaten by the city, Andelia let out a confident huff and proceeded to venture into the street, noting the signs, and following a straight path. Her main objective was to find the Collector despite going alone.

Surmising that perhaps she needed a little assistance, she found an open restaurant and calmly asked for directions. Tokens and Treasures was a well-known business and she was guided with surprising ease to the location.

A blinking yellow sign in fancy script glowed over the storefront and to the left, as instructed, was the faded outline of the blue flame she had been searching for. Scanning up and down the street once again for any sign of her comrades and coming up empty, Andelia made her way tentatively down a darkened alley to a peeling blue door, a pale lamp with a cloudy bulb dimly illuminating it from above.

She knocked hurriedly and waited. A minute passed and nothing. Trying once more in vain, she thought of giving up on the portal and waiting out on the street, with the hope from Ariko or Keel showed up from the instructions, until the sudden movement of a shadow passed behind her and the muted echo of footsteps crept closer.

Raising her ki in defense, she heard a soft chuckle as she turned to spy a lean, white-haired man in his mid-adult years, not much older than Ariko, staring back.

A roguish smile greeted her as he stepped forward, unusual purple eyes set above high cheekbones and white, straight hair and black eyebrows. He wore all black, down to the black coat hanging on his small frame cinched tight at his narrow waist, and had a worn pack slung over his shoulder which he hiked up as he approached.

"What are you doing here, girl?" He asked in a friendly tone in the common tongue, cocking his head and giving her a once over.

Swallowing her initial surprise at the appearance of the stranger, she steeled herself while squaring her shoulders. Her body remained under high alert, poised to defend herself if necessary.

"I'm not doing anything." She began, peripherally taking in her surroundings. A wall to her back. The only exit guarded by the white-haired man. She couldn't fly or use ki if she were to remain undetected.

He drew his dark eyebrows together. "You are in an alley all by yourself. Looks suspicious, don't you think?" He slowly queried, making calm strides closer to her.

"I am no one and do not wish to be bothered. I strongly suggest you stay back." She warned, tightening her fists at her side. She placed a foot gradually behind her when a dreadful thought crossed her mind of the stranger being one of Frieza's men. If she were caught, she would die. Or worse.

He narrowed his eyes and she watched him clutching his shoulder strap tighter.

"Perhaps I can help you. It looks like you are waiting for someone." He offered disingenuously, nearly closing the gap to her. She focused her ki as it tingled at her fingertips, in preparation of forcing her way through him when she suddenly heard her name cut through the confined space behind the stranger.

"Andelia!" Ariko called as he rushed into the alley, Keel following in quick stride.

She let out a ragged relieving breath as the stranger turned to the new arrivals with a start. Caught in between, the whitehaired man backed away from her and addressed her comrades. They spoke so fast, she couldn't follow most of it as she tried to slow her racing heart. With the way Ariko stood, his back straight and eyes ablaze, she could vaguely hear the tongue lashing he was giving the stranger as he indicated furiously to her then pointed an accusing finger to the man. He, however, made no attempt at defending himself, remaining calm, even-toned and shrugged dismissively, much to Ariko's irritation. The conversation heated, she was sure it would escalate to an unnecessary fight when the man grinned.

"I am who you are looking for." He said with a low murmur in the Saiyan language while unfurling his carefully hidden tail. Her eyes grew wide in response. "I am the Collector."

He smirked showing his canines and indicated with his head. "Come in. Saiyans shouldn't be hanging around outside. You may find yourself in a most unpleasant situation." He boldly leered at Andelia while producing a worn keycard and opening the portal, letting it slam behind the three trackers once in the small room.

A squat lamp buzzed awake when flicked on as the man plopped his bag onto the surface of a dusty desk, leaned back in a desk chair and placed his feet on the exotic wood as a footrest. As Ariko spoke determinedly to their host, making their offer known, Andelia took the time to peruse her surroundings, inspecting the space with keen eyes.

Tall file cabinets, near bursting, lined the walls and a lonely chair piled high with paperwork and disorganized computer parts made up most of the furniture. A large gun leaned against the other wall with various sized smaller blasters littered the floor by it. A slight glint caught her eye as she spied a collection of hanging jewelry, necklaces, and bangles in gold and silver, sparkling gems encrusted in the metals. She ran her fingers over the cold trinkets without thinking to then gasp softly upon seeing a familiar sight: a simple necklace with a black and gold crest, inlaid in red touting the sigil of House Vegeta.

She was brought out of her curious inspection with the booming guffaw of the Collector.

"You've won me over. I agree to join your clan." He concluded with a prompt nod.

Andelia caught Ariko's confused eye as he scrutinized the Saiyan. "Why so easy to persuade?"

He shrugged as he put his hands behind his head, tail unfurling from under the blackcoat to flick lazily at his side. "I've done a lot over the years since Frieza. Pretty much all that I could. All that I've wanted, anyway. Gets lonely. I'm sure there's something I could do of benefit to my fellow Saiyans." He offered.

Ariko's face soured. Andelia knew why. The new Saiyan's words sounded helpful but his body language was entirely dubious. She sighed softly to herself in realizing Ariko had no choice. They were told as trackers to find surviving Saiyans, no matter how deceitful they seemed. Ariko nodded in agreement and the Collector jumped from his seat eagerly.

"Alright then. Let's go." He grabbed his pack and walked toward the door before stopping near Andelia. "One more thing: is she going to be there?" He asked with a sly grin.

Keel stepped between her and the white-haired man, placing a gentle but firm hand on her wrist.

Ariko growled low. "She is called Andelia. And she is not to be pursued." He warned.

The man sniggered while throwing up his hands in defeat. "Understood. I merely asked a question. So, her name is Andelia. And you two are Ariko and Keel." He repeated their names in a smooth, honeyed tone. "Good to know. I'm Meric. Let us be off then. I can't wait to meet the rest of the survivors."

He gazed at her once more with his foreign colored eyes. She shuddered at the sudden ominous feeling of being the unconsenting prey to a powerful predator.

"Happy birthday, Trunks!"

Surrounded by friends and family, Trunks grinned with gracious embarrassment at the group, trying to give a thanking grin to everyone encircling him at the table in the middle of the spacious backyard.

His mother had a penchant for throwing lavish parties and had invited everyone they knew, and most had shown up for his birthday, an event he didn't know about until the day before. You can't bail if it's tomorrow, she said with conviction and he remembered distinctly groaning with a roll of his eyes before relenting to her persistence of giving him another party despite him being an adult. He inwardly thanked her for providing him a moment to feel like a kid again, though.

"Thanks, everyone." He chuckled abashedly at being the focal point amidst a long table laden with savory meals and desserts.

"Oh honey, you're so grown up." Bulma happily lamented and smashed her lips to his cheek leaving a lipstick smear which he wiped hastily. Bulla, on his other side, wrapped her tiny 4-year-old arms around him as best she could before placing a wet kiss on his other cheek with a giggle.

"Attacked by both of you. Really, Mom, this is too much. Don't you think I'm too old for this?" He winced with a smile, wiping the wet mark with his sleeve amid the chuckling and laughing from their friends and family.

"Nonsense. You are still my baby. I will continue to throw you and your sister parties until the day I die. Now, you could give me a littler you to throw a party for." She hinted with a wink.

His ear went red at the suggestion and she ruffling her hand through his hair playfully.

He exhaled with embarrassment before getting up, grabbing two glasses of champagne while making a swift exit and perusing the jovial faces in search of one in particular.

He scanned the backyard of attendees. He glanced over as Gohan chatted with Videl, a redness etched across her face with a nearly empty glass of wine in her hand. Mr. Satan and Buu napped on lounge chairs after gorging on food before everyone else, much to his mother's admonishment. Eighteen and Chi Chi laughed boisterously with a clearly embarrassed Krillin in between them, his hands up in an attempt to downplay whatever juicy gossip was going around.

He weaved in between tables sniggering at Master Roshi and Yamcha playing a drinking game with no winners as Oolong refereed. He shook hands clumsily with Tien and Chaiotzu and nodded at Piccolo, was given more obnoxious kisses by his grandmother, and was given a stifling bear hug by the Ox King, back cracking under the pressure as he tried to hold the champagne flutes with strained delicacy.

Finally passed the main tables, he searched across the green yard and turned his head briefly after hearing the commanding yell of his father critiquing harshly at a technique done incorrectly by the taller, grinning Goku who rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Hey there, birthday boy!" A high pitched voice called in the short distance.

A blond head came into view as Goten clapped him on the back.

"Hey, Ten. Marron. How are you?" He chuckled and went in for a half hug.

"I'm great. Starting my last year of high school. And before you ask- no, I don't know what I want to do." She teased.

Trunks beamed. "It's cool. This idiot doesn't know what he wants to do either. He hasn't even enrolled at the university, yet." Elbowing the youngest Son in the gut.

"What can I say? I live in the moment. Unlike you who's had a job waiting since birth." Goten pushed back teasingly.

"I could have been something else if I wanted." The lavender headed Saiyan countered.

"Bulma would have had a shit fit if you did anything other than rule the world."

"My Mom does not control my life."

"Sure she doesn't." He winked with a smug grin.

"That's enough, boys." Marron put her hands between them with a giggle. "Happy birthday, Trunks. I'm sure we'll see you around."

"Thanks." He gave her another half hug. Her arm linked with Goten as he pulled her away.

"Yeah, happy birthday. Marron and I are gonna sneak some cake. We'll see you later." Goten said furtively.

"See you. Oh, and be careful. Chi Chi's over there guarding them." Trunks added with a sly grin.

"What?!" Goten shrank in panic while looking over his shoulder at the table in question. No one could make his face pale faster than his mother.

"You're too easy, man." He laughed at his friend's gullibility.

Goten narrowed his eyes as Marron tittered against his arm.

Trunks shook his head with a victorious smirk as he watched the two friends leave. His gaze traveled across the lawn to the understory of a tree at the edge of the compound to finally settle on his target.

Even before his approach, he could feel her ki fluctuating moderately and now he could see why. She was in a defensive stance on the grass, muscles taut and braced, her long braid at her back undulating in the current of her aura. Her head was craned back, looking up at a dot in the sky, anticipating an imminent attack. Suddenly, the dot careened from the sky toward her in a rush, the small girl's fists impacting with his mate's arm before a barrage of quick punches tried to make contact with anything but her forearms.

He watched Riane's lithe body avoid attacks from the quarter Saiyan Pan in a one-sided duel, smiling at their spar. Pan's erratic hits and kicks pushed Riane back but she never faltered in her defensive stance nor tried to take the upper hand. Trunks surmised she was used to and taught to stay on guard. Even during their own spars, he did notice how she never really tried to be more advantageous to win, just sustained.

Pan's vigor eventually ceased and she pulled back, panting into the grass, drained, whereas her older opponent hardly looked affected. He walked over to them with a grin.

"Nice going, Pan. You've managed to get Riane to socialize with someone."

His mate wrinkled her nose at being teased and seated against a tree as the demi Saiyan girl flopped herself on her back in the grass with a frustrated huff.

Trunks seated himself next to her, leaning on her shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Oh, before I forget. Your Uncle is over at the dessert table stealing the cake. You better go before he eats it all." He addressed the demi Saiyan still panting lightly on the grass. Her body shot up off the ground with a surprised gasp.

"What?" She exclaimed loudly. Before leaving, her little arm swung around and threw a forceful punch at the older woman in a final attempted sneak attack. Riane put her arm up and took the brunt on her forearm, avoiding a jab to the face much to the dismay of the girl. With a growl, Pan took off quickly to thwart her Uncle.

With a soft snicker, Riane laid her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and offered her one of the drinks in his hand.

"I like Pan. She's very strong for her age. She has a lot of potential. With training, she could be very powerful." She said wistfully into her glass.

"I think that's what Goku is trying to do. They have a strong family of strong fighters." He mused.

"Like yours." Her brows came together sullenly. "I miss that." She said through a small sip.

"What?" He asked quizzically.

"Being a part of greatness." She replied in a whisper akin to mourning.

Trunks pursed his lips in dejected guilt.

Going on nine months, she had become a permanent resident on Earth and as a welcome member in his family's home. She had a set list of things she liked to eat, occasionally indulged in Earthling activities and had her own toothbrush in their shared bathroom. She had a job and as much as he would have liked to beat the ever-loving shit out of Adams, she seemed to be doing well with him. She never complained. He thought she had acclimated.

Yet, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind whenever she became suddenly quiet, looked off into the sky with longing, talked to his father in their language to then see her eyes unfocused, her mind drift off. The feeling that she was hiding her thoughts and feelings still hadn't left and he often wondered- did she not like being on Earth? With him? Did she miss being with her clan? Did she feel out of place? Was she regretting…

He bit his lip before asking tentatively, apprehensive of the answer. "Ri, are you happy?"

She looked up at him with her usual blank stare when she was trying to avoid showing emotion but the small creases at the corners of her eyes formed an ache in his chest.

Before she could respond, the words hanging on her lips, a shout echoed across the lawn, yelling his name.

"Bulma is calling you." She murmured. He nodded with a deflating sigh, finished his glass with a gulp and held out his hand to help her to her feet.

He took her palm in his, threading his fingers with a sound squeeze. With a returned squeeze back, she smiled at him in a placating sort of way and shook her head, as if inwardly dismissing her thoughts.

"There you are." Bulma beamed behind a mess of brightly colored drinks in large jugs perspiring on the countertop, the bots she had programmed to deliver the beverages moving in and out of the house in coordinated sequence as Trunks and Riane skirted around them to enter the kitchen.

"Hi Mom, you called me?"

"Yes, I wanted to make sure you weren't ignoring your guests." She eyed him suspiciously.

"Nope. I said hello to everyone, like a gracious host." He teased.

"Good. I would hate to have to withhold my gift as punishment for you being unsocial." She responded playfully. Her gaze fell over to the other occupant in the room who had gotten his fill of the festivities, gorged on pizza and demonstrated how unsocial one could be by now isolating himself in the kitchen. "Vegeta, don't you have anything to say to your son today?" She pressured.

Trunks' humored look turned to focus on the other Saiyan who stopped mid-bite, put the half-eaten slice on the counter and sighed irritably.

"Move out." He declared as he picked up the slice, with several others, and began eating again.

"Vegeta!" Bulma admonished over Trunks laughing.

The Prince glared back. "What? The boy is 19. He should move out."

"I still live with my parents!" She countered.

"Exactly. And look how ruined you are."

"You would die without my mother's cooking," she wrinkled her nose at him. She turned back to her grinning son. "Don't listen to him. You can live here as long as you want."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll take it into consideration." He said with a shake of his head as he watched his father scoff before withdrawing to a quieter room.

Bulma stuck her tongue out at his receding figure then focused a smile to Riane. "Oh, before I forget. Riane, I just wanted to thank you for what you're doing with Adams." Bulma complimented genuinely.

The dark-haired woman blinked in surprise at the unprovoked approval. "I'm not doing anything. I've only assisted in getting his schedule in order." She replied humbly.

Trunks' playful mood shifted to bemused as he watched his mate construe her features to the dismissal of praise. The fact that he had an inner turmoil between hatred for the conceited asshole and worried over whether he was treating her appropriately while at his office never quite sat right with the half-Saiyan. She made it a point to never discuss her day with him, it would only bother you she would say cryptically, but her reassurance that she could handle herself without him holding her hand bothered him more. He couldn't help but feel protective.

His mother tutted. "Don't be modest. Honestly, I didn't think I would get much out of him since he was hired. I can't quite let him go and risk him being swept up by a competitor with his capabilities. Whatever you're doing, keep it up. I received four new proposals that are showing promise. You're the first one to actually get him off his ass and do something productive." She beamed.

Riane hunched as her face reddened, shifting her feet awkwardly.

Hearing this bit of gossip, as innocuous as his mother seemed to think it was, should have made Trunks more relieved that she was finding a grounded foothold of routine as her new life became less daunting.

Instead, an ugly thought found its way to the forefront where he wondered resentfully if the woman with whom he wanted to share his life with, who he wanted her to open up and share pieces of herself with him, was perhaps sharing her secrets with another. Did she divulge things to him? Was Adams doing better because they meshed better together?

Trunks frowned but took a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the ridiculous thoughts. She would talk when she was ready. He was sure.

A trilling ring startled him as he looked over at Riane pulling her company phone from her pocket, groaning in annoyance then steeling herself. Speak of the fucking devil, he frowned bitterly.

"Excuse me, Bulma. I have to take this." She gave a frustrated smile before disappearing outside.

Trunks gave a small concerned groan as he picked up a full glass of champagne bubbling on a tray of many others and sucking down the liquid with a gulp.

Bulma watched him while picking up one for herself and sipping calmly. "How's she doing?"

"She liked Pan. They sparred for a little bit. I think parties are uncomfortable for her."

"Like your Dad. I meant in general. It's been almost a year, right?" She swirled the soft gold liquid, disturbing the bubbles to float to the top.

"She's fine." He lied with a smile.

Bulma narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "I hope the next time I ask, which I will, you are more convincing."

He sighed, staring off. "She doesn't really talk about it." He admitted quietly. He set the glass on the counter with a muted clink. "I'm gonna take Riane somewhere for a little bit. We'll be back in an hour or so."

"You better be back before the fireworks. I think she'd really like them."

"We'll be back." He assured, nodding in agreement as he walked out into the noisy backyard of guests.

He made his way to the front of the compound where he felt her, away from the raucous party, and came upon the middle of a conversation heard one-sidedly on the phone until he approached close enough to hear the other half. He bristled at Adam's condescending voice, making eye contact with Riane as she turned her back to him and attempted to mute the receiver by pressing it closer to her ear, clearly not wanting him to be savvy to her phone call.

His own hearing was much better than her efforts as Adams' loud voice pervaded the quiet of the side yard and made Trunks particularly defensive at her treatment.

"I told you last week, Adams, I was taking Friday off," Riane spoke calmly and direct, yet her body language showed signs of tenseness.

"I don't care. I need you here, now!" The tone on the other end screeched causing Trunks to bring his fingers into his palms tightly at his sides.

She maintained her levelheaded cool. "If this is a request to proofread, I told you I would get to those documents tomorrow."

"You will get to them now." The demand hit sharply on Trunks' willpower and he made strong efforts to not grab the phone from her to give him a tongue lashing of his own. Riane gave him a mollifying look, curbing his anger moderately.

She smirked into the phone. "I am currently at an event hosted by Bulma. Would you like me to tell her I'm leaving? I'm sure she'll wonder why."

An exasperated huff filtered through the line followed by a few seconds of silence.

"Fine. If I don't see that packet on my desk by Monday morning, so help me, Riane." He threatened.

"They will be on your desk by the end of the day tomorrow." She asserted.

"It better be perfect," Adams warned.

She smiled with cunning intention. "Of course it will be perfect, Adams. You wrote it."

"Damn right I did." He replied arrogantly before the call silenced abruptly.

She stuffed her phone into her pocket with an irritated sigh while Trunks crossed his arms tightly. "He shouldn't talk to you like that."

She cocked her head. "This is why I don't tell you about my day. It's very rude to listen in on private conversations."

She wrapped her arms around his middle, softening his temper. Trunks encircled her and held her tighter and protective. Placing a gentle kiss on his tight jawline, his frustrated anger dissipated some. "You do not need to worry about me. I have complete control with Adams."

"How are you so sure?" He questioned heavy with distrust for the conceited jackass.

"Adams is a man. I only need to stroke his ego every once in a while, tell him what he wants to hear. It will solidify my place as indispensable. I've worked with him for months. We have come to an understanding." She confided deviously.

He tensed his arms around her, unsure of how to interpret her phrasing. "I would like it if you stopped working for him." He put forth for the hundredth time.

She pulled back, scrutinizing his face. "Are you telling me to quit?"

"Would you listen to me?" He said through tight lips.

"No." She responded defiantly.

Seeing the fierceness on her face, the determination in her eyes, his shoulders slumped in conceding defeat. A knowing smirk graced his features as he reflected on how far they had come.

She had been a bullheaded, tempestuous, argumentative Saiyan woman who wanted nothing to do with him at one point. Now, she was his bullheaded, tempestuous, argumentative mate, stubborn to a fault and so frustratingly independent his hair was sure to turn white from stress.

She may have been struggling with finding her place but she still had a fire in her. He loved her for that. He wanted her to be happy.

He kissed the top of her head and embraced her tightly as if squeezing the rebelliousness out of her was a possibility. She groaned under him until he let go with a chuckle.

He instead took her hand and pulled her away from the front of the house.

"C'mon. I want to take you somewhere. I got myself a birthday gift. Something we could both share."

She narrowed her eyes. "It's not another car, is it?" She asked warily.

He snickered. "No. And I don't have that many." He replied in an attempt at being convincing.

She snorted in disbelief as they made their way to the driveway.