A/N: I'm doing this little one-shot in order to help me get back on the writing train so I can finish "Savin' Me"! It's also loosely dedicated to my parents, who's 25th Wedding Anniversary is coming up Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Standard rates apply….

Yawn. Stretch. Yawn again. Turn towards the wall. Pop. Turn towards her snoozing husband. Pop, pop. It was the same routine she had been repeating since the first night they had spent together. Granted, that first night had eased into morning, leaving her staring at the wall, his cologne permeating the pillow, leaving the only evidence of him having ever stayed in her bed.

Thirteen years later, he had moved into her room and stayed in the bed longer (and by longer, he waited until about 0800 to go train). She felt a small smile slip onto her face as he flipped on his side, now facing her. His eyes were still closed, of course. After the Buu incident, he seemed to try to enjoy the minor details in life: staying in bed until the last possible minute, fulfilling his promise to take Trunks to the park, and even volunteering to take a few night shifts with the newest little member of the family. He was still cautious around the tiny demi, of course; he had only been around a grand total of 2 months of Trunks' baby years and hardly knew how to handle such an itty bitty creature.

Her fingers ran through his sloppy bed hair, happily eliciting an almost purr-like reaction from the drowsy prince. He half-smiled, reaching out to grab her around her still prominent hip, dragging her into a lazy embrace. She let out a small squeak, still continuing her ministrations on his scalp.

"Good morning," she sang, leaning up to give him a chaste kiss.

He cracked open an eye, strengthening his hold on her. " 'Morning," was his reply, stretching as he held her in his grip.

It never ceased to amaze the blue-eyed wonder that she had managed to be blessed with such a man. Oh sure, he was an ass throughout the majority of the day. He had an attitude that could rival any spoiled child's (Trunks included). But he was wholly and unequivocally dedicated to her. He loved her, and she him, and their family was proof enough of that.

He sighed, and she giggled, feeling her long, blue hair flit a bit across their pillows. "I have to get up," he mumbled, glancing behind him at the glaring alarm clock.

"So do I," she sighed, eyeing their respective closets where their 'uniforms' hung from the doors. Funny, she had never really tried to be organized with her room before. She was as scatter-brained and messy as her crazy father. She smiled, remembering the meeting she had with the old man in a few hours to discuss some new air car prototypes.

"Maybe we should just stay in bed today," came the deep voice to her left.

She raised one fine eyebrow. "And maybe I could let Capsule Corp burst into flames. You know I can't take a day off."

"Neither can I," he countered, "technically speaking. But the world is not going to explode if I don't train today and I'm sure your father is perfectly capable of resuming command of the office for a day."

She sputtered, pulling back slightly from his very warm embrace. "Have you lost your mind? Dad doesn't need that kind of stress. And since when are you so willing to take a day off from training? Are you sick?" Her lithe body hopped up, now kneeling in front of him. She place her smooth, porcelain arm against his forehead.

He scowled, pulling her arm away. Then he shrugged. She raised her eyebrow again. "I figure we could both use a day off. To unwind. The boy has been whining all week that we haven't done anything fun. Something about summer break or some stupid earthling tradition."

She sat back on her rear, her hair flopping back with the motion. "I suppose you're right. And the pool has just been cleaned…I'll call dad." She leaned in for another kiss before skipping out the room.

He breathed a sigh of relief, kicked the covers off, and tip-toed towards the balcony. He smirked, watching as his son put the final touches on the display. Trunks, satisfied with his work, glanced up at the balcony, his father in-turn giving him a thumbs-up. Sweet.

Bulma crossed her arms. Usually when she returned from her in-home office, Vegeta would still be in bed. Instead, he was rummaging through the bottom drawer of her dresser, fishing out the top to her bikini.

"What on Earth are you up to?"

"The boy has expressed his wish to be in the pool now."

"Right now?"

He chucked the bottoms on top of their bed. "Yes."

She offered a side-long glance at the alarm clock. It was now nearing 0900. Crazy how time was already flying. "Alright. Meet you downstairs?"

Vegeta nodded, pulling the string a bit tighter on his swim shorts.

Again, she sighed. She had been standing in front of the wall-length mirror for about five minutes now, staring at her body. Despite the fact that Bura was now a fair six months old, Bulma felt that her body should've already shed the pounds gained during her pregnancy. It was irritating to think of how easily (and quickly) her body had slimmed down after Trunks' birth, and yet here she was. Fat.

Two delicate fingers pinched a small tuft of skin. "Daaaaaamn," she whined, taking her index finger and poking the pudge near her bellybutton. It was bordering on depressing. She allowed a small stomp, watching as her thighs continued to jiggle three seconds after the rest of her did.

"…Are you KIDDING ME?" Her mind was made up.

She was NOT wearing a bikini in front of her ever fit, ever sexy husband.

"Daaaaad! What's taking mom so long?" Trunks glared down at the mountain he carefully carried. His father had insisted on doing everything themselves, despite his grandmother's offer of assistance. Surprisingly, everything had turned out well—the house was still standing—but he still felt odd and unmanly, flitting around the house as they had.

Vegeta's eyebrows furrowed. He had heard a few stomps, slammed drawers, and clothing rips upstairs, but figured that it was all a part of that sacred 'women's world' he dared not challenge. "I don't know. She only had to put on her swimsuit."

Trunks grimaced at the thought of his mom in a bikini. She wasn't ugly or huge or anything like that. It was just the fact that many of his schoolmates could still fantasize about his mom's 'hot' status that it made him not want to see his mother in anything less than an ankle-long skirt and baggy turtleneck.

"Should I go get her?"

"No. Let's just go finish putting this out. She'll come find us."

Clad in designer flip-flops, Vegeta's old pair of swim shorts, and a tank top, she stomped down the stairs and made a beeline for the kitchen. There was a simple note on the table the instantly caught her eye. "At the pool," she read aloud, still surprised that Vegeta's Earthly-script looked impeccably royal. It still didn't keep her from letting out a huff. Impatient males…though, she couldn't blame them. She had taken well over 20 minutes to change into something more 'slimming'.

This time, she sighed, dropping the note back on the table. She tightened the band that held her long hair up in a ponytail before pushing the porch door to head outside. Bulma felt her mouth drop open as she turned the corner.

There sat Vegeta at their outdoor table, a fine breakfast spread set out neatly before him. The table was set with a beautifully simple tablecloth, the plates and forks formally arranged. A glass pitcher of orange juice sparkled brightly in the sun, making her long to cool off from the already sweltering morning heat. Trunks had an amused look on his face, his father holding a giggling, happy Bura, trying to feed her whatever jar food was sitting on the table next to him. She finally smiled, watching as Vegeta triumphantly dumped a baby-spoonful of food into the baby's mouth.

"Oh, uh, crap," Trunks said, finally taking note of his mother's presence. "Uh, happy anniversary, mom!" He shot a sheepish look at his dad, earning a bit of a glare and a squeal from his sister.

Vegeta absently scratched the back of his head. "Well, it was supposed to be a different bit of a surprise. But, well, happy anniversary anyway."

Bulma put her hands on her hips and she walked towards her family. "Anniversary? Hun, our anniversary is in December."

"Our wedding anniversary is then. This is our tsulahyu."

"Tsulahyu?" Strange, she had never heard that word from him before.

Trunks hopped up, pulling out the chair for his mother. "It means union," he chirped as she sat down. She felt her cheeks burn at the implication and wondered briefly if her son had any idea just what type of union his father had been referring to when he mentioned it.

"It's the anniversary of the day that I knew I would be stuck with you for forever." He offered her a half-smile which she cheekily returned.

"So, happy anniversary," he said, his cheeks hinting at the slightest pink.

"Aww!" she grinned, leaning forward to hug and kiss him. "Happy anniversary!"

Trunks gagged and Bura giggled. "Can we eat, please?"

Parents could be so embarrassing...

—FIN—

Hope you all enjoyed it! And here's to hoping that it holds you over until I finish the next chapter of "Savin' Me". Review!