Midnight

She was all alone. She had never really been alone in her life, and she knew immediately that she didn't like the feeling. It was dark and cold. And it suddenly got colder when she when she realized that she was clad in nothing but that ridiculous bunny outfit. The one she had been wearing when Goku was young. It had been among Oolong's possessions. Oooh, that perverted little pig! But it was still cold and dark, and she was still alone. Even Oolong's company wouldn't have been so bad…She vaguely thought about this being a dream, but what a stupid, boring dream it was! And where on Earth was everybody? She started to walk around, looking for a way out of the darkness when she heard a familiar voice. Then out of nowhere, Yamcha appeared, lighting the way with some sort of energy or something. He smiled at her, and she realized that he wasn't the Yamcha from the old days, he was the one she knew now. He had that funny looking yellow suit on. She was going to tease him about how yellow was not a good color for suits, but then she decided against it since she didn't want to be left alone again.

Suddenly she felt embarrassed that she wearing the bunny suit. But why? He's seen me in this before. In fact it was the first outfit he saw me in, or, one of the first anyway, she thought. There had also been that genie suit, which had been much more appealing in her opinion. She was just about to smile back at Yamcha, and tell him how glad she was to see him, when he came up to her abruptly. He grabbed her in an embrace and started kissing her with a passion that was familiar, but not familiar for him. It was a little rough for Yamcha, and for some reason she was repelled by it. She pulled back and slapped him across the face. He winced, then smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Bulma," he said. "I don't know why I did that. I guess we're not together anymore. But…I love you. I still love you, and I think…I always will." Bulma just stood there. His words felt very wrong to her, and she felt like covering her ears so she wouldn't have to hear them. He had bared his soul too much, it felt too raw and…there was pain. Had she really hurt him that much? But wait…why were they split up this time? There was always some sort of reason why she split up with him, but this time… Before she could think any further, Yamcha interrupted her thoughts.

"Where is he? Oh, man. I shouldn't have done that. He's gonna kill me. I think he really actually cares for you now. And you love him, don't you?"

Bulma just stood there, not knowing who he was talking about. Who cared about her besides Yamcha? Was it Goku? But he wouldn't hurt Yamcha for kissing her.

Then she heard a childish laugh. It came from below her. She looked down to see a little boy with lavender hair.

"Mom, what are you wearing?" The boy blushed. "It's sort of embarrassing…" His voice…something about the boy's voice struck a cord in her. It was sort of strained sounding, and raspy. And he had called her "mom." She almost asked Yamcha, but he had disappeared. The boy was talking again.

"Mom? Where's dad? Where are we? I don't like it here. It's too dark. Can we go home? Please?" She remembered then. Trunks. Her son. And his father was…

Bulma woke up to a tug on her blanket and hoarse whisper. She opened her eyes, and even though the room was still dark, she could make out the outline of her son at the edge of her side of the bed. He was doing his best to be quiet. He didn't want to wake his father. Bulma shuddered when she remembered the dream, still very fresh in her mind. How had she forgotten about Vegeta? She loved him, and her love had grown stronger since the whole incident with Majin Buu, and how he had saved the world. He seemed genuinely happy now. She flicked on a dim lamp, and looked over at his sleeping form. He didn't even move. His breathing was deep and undisturbed, and he had a calm and relaxed look on his face. He used to be a light sleeper, aware of every noise, like something would attack him. But now he was so comfortable here, and he was so strong that he knew nothing could harm him. Bulma smiled, and brushed his thick hair lightly with her fingers. He just sighed, and she noticed the corner of his mouth twitch, almost smiling. He could sense her presence, even while he was sleeping. Trunks noticed that as well.

"Wow, he can tell it's you in his sleep? I wonder if I could do that?"

When Bulma had first woken up, Trunks's little whispering voice had seemed scared. But now that a light was on, and he was with his parents, he felt better. She looked down on her son and smiled gently.

"You had a bad dream again, didn't you?" When Trunks blushed, she put her hand on top of his head.

"It's okay. I had sort of a strange dream too. You wanna come downstairs with me?" He nodded quickly, giving his father one last glance. The expression on her son's face told Bulma that the dream probably involved Vegeta, like it usually did. Trunks deeply admired him, and he seemed to be having a lot of dreams lately about his father being in trouble, and Trunks couldn't do anything to help him because he wasn't powerful enough. He would tell her about these dreams, but he wouldn't tell Vegeta. He was too ashamed, and it made him look like he didn't have enough faith in his father's strength. Bulma wondered if nightmares ran in the family. She didn't have too many terrible dreams, but she knew Vegeta used to have some really bad ones, and occasionally still did. He was always quiet and pensive afterwards, and Bulma guessed they were about Frieza. She didn't blame him for having nightmares about him, since Frieza took up the first thirty-odd years of Vegeta's life. She never asked about them, , she just let him be. Bulma knew that Vegeta stayed with her because she was so tolerable and understanding of him, and she sensed he liked that about her. She felt giddy when she thought about the fact that he actually cared for and respected her now. The closest to loving her that she got him to admit was that he was fond of her, and that was all she needed.

She went downstairs with Trunks, and they headed for their favorite nightly spot, the kitchen. There she put the kettle on for tea, and she smiled at the idea that her son liked tea when most kids his age, like Goten, preferred hot chocolate. But Trunks had never been into sweets much, and in that respect, he was like his father. Vegeta had taught his son well, and the boy was very healthy.

Trunks liked a little tea in the middle of the night. It helped to calm his nerves, and Bulma always made sure it was decaf. While she waited for the water to boil, she busied herself with unimportant tasks in the kitchen, giving her son a chance to stare at the tablecloth, knowing that he was gathering his thoughts.

"I don't understand why I'm having these dreams about dad," he finally said. "He's so strong. Nothing could happen to him, but…" His blue eyes took on a faraway look.

"That's true. I don't think there is really anything that could harm him now. He's one of the most powerful fighters in the universe. But I think I understand how you feel, Trunks."

Bulma sat down, sliding a streaming cup of tea over to him.

"How do you mean?" he asked, cupping the warm ceramic.

"Well, he did have a horrible life, as you well know. A lot of bad things happened to Vegeta, but he is doing much better now. There's really nothing to worry about; he's always been capable of looking out for himself."

"Yeah, I know." Trunks sighed, then took a gulp of tea, even thought it would have scalded Bulma.

"But Goten's dad was dead for a really long time. He hardly even knows him. I just don't want…I mean, what if someone worse than Majin Buu comes along?" Bulma smiled at the concern in Trunks's eyes. She had stopped worrying for Vegeta's welfare a long time ago, knowing full well that he could take care of himself, but she did remember how terribly hopeless and grief stricken she had felt when Goku had told her that Vegeta was dead. Thankfully, he hadn't been that way for very long. But when she thought about him being gone for good, she shuddered. There was always the dragonballs though. The thought cheered her somewhat.

"Well, Trunks. Hopefully by the time someone that powerful come along, you'll be old enough to fight along side your father. You are already really strong. You've achieved the ability to become a Super Saiyan at such a young age; you're a very powerful kid."

"And maybe someday, you'll even come close to obtaining my level of power, if you work hard enough."

Bulma and Trunks both jumped as they heard Vegeta's voice. He was leaning against the kitchen door frame, wearing a black tank top and draw string pants. He was smiling at them, amused at their reactions.

"I'm surprised that you didn't sense me coming, Trunks. I suppose we should work on that a little more."

Trunks blushed, but Vegeta came over and ruffled his hair, letting him now that he wasn't ashamed of him. Bulma smiled.

"I see you've found out about me and Trunks's tea ritual. We have it once or twice a week in the middle of the night. I think we may be showing signs of insomnia." Vegeta sat down next to Trunks and across from Bulma.

"Well, don't give him too much tea, Bulma, or he'll be up for the rest of the night as well." Bulma snorted.

"I didn't give him the kind with caffeine in it."

Vegeta leaned forward, his chin cupped in his hand, and a mischievous smile on his lips.

"I didn't mean that he'd be up all night from the energy." Trunks suddenly laughed, spewing out some of his drink, where it landed on Bulma. She shrieked, making Vegeta laugh too. Trunks smiled sheepishly and looked down.

"Sorry, Mom," he said.

Bulma stood up, using a napkin to dry herself off.

"That's okay, Trunks. It was your father's fault for making you laugh when you were drinking, anyway." She glared playfully at the Saiyan prince.

"I think he did it on purpose." Vegeta just shrugged.

"Oh, probably. I quite enjoyed that noise you made, though." When Bulma glared at him for real, he just laughed to himself.

Trunks's eyes were half-lidded as he watched his parents contentedly. He liked it when they bantered back and forth like this. When they were actually mad at each other, they didn't speak at all, but that rarely happened anymore. He stood up, too tired to stay anymore. Bulma watched him go back upstairs after he said his goodnights. She was standing next to Vegeta, her hand on the back of his chair. She sighed.

"He seems pretty happy, doesn't he?" Vegeta nodded.

"He's a good kid. I know I'm hard on him, but I am proud of him, and he knows it now. He works harder than ever before." He stood up, and turned around to face Bulma. She moved closer, and bent down a little to lay her head on his chest. She felt his warm hand on the small of her back, pressing her against him.

"I'm proud of him too, but I'm also proud of you, Vegeta." She put her arms around him. "I love you. I'm so glad you're alive." He broke away from her and looked at her face closely. Then he touched her arm and got so close that his lips almost touched hers. But he moved away, turning around and starting to walk up the stairs. Halfway up, he looked over his shoulder, and seeing that she was behind him, he gave her his crooked smile and continued up the stairs towards their bedroom. Bulma shook her head and smiled to herself. She didn't know why she had dreamt of Yamcha earlier, but if she was going be in the dark with someone, she wanted it to be the man she loved, and that wasn't Yamcha anymore.