Prologue

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"Vegeta? Are you even listening to me?"

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"Vegeta? Are you even listening to me?"

Bulma's words interrupted his thoughts. As Vegeta chewed his dinner, battle strategies flew through his head. He was studying the memory of his rival's moves, picking apart every action for weaknesses.

At her voice, his eyes focused on her and he swallowed his mouthful. "Mmhmm." He murmured, non-committal, grabbing his glass of water and sipping.

Bulma's beverage of choice was beer, her fingernails tapping out an tell-tale clink as she regarded her husband, sly contempt on her features. "Okay... what was I saying?" She asked, sticking her chin out in annoyance.

"You were talking about converting the Dragon Radar into a mobile app." Vegeta said with a shrug. He didn't care about the radar, or finding the Dragon Balls. His dreams of immortality were long gone.

A look of tempestuous disappointment instantly graced her face. "That was like ten minutes ago! Have you seriously not been listening to me this whole time?" Her voice started increase in pitch, and Vegeta sat back in his chair, putting his knife and fork down.

Guess they were going to fight. Again.

The last few months, with the new addition to the family, had been one fight after another. Bulma had even booked them marriage counseling, but Vegeta, not thinking they needed it, sparred with Goku instead. Her screeching about inane human bullshit had driven him away lately, not to mention the baby's incessant crying. It would be a phase she grew out of, but he could not wait for it to be over.

"Look, Vegeta, I'm tired. At least you could humour me for a moment and pretend you're part of this marriage." Bulma said, abandoning her meal and getting up, reaching into her handbag for her cigarettes, "You even got here forty five minutes late!"

"So? At least I'm here! And I'm letting you vent at me about your ideas." He said, screwing up his nose as she lit up. Disgusting habit, but he'd let it slide.

"Yeah. The bare fucking minimum. Meanwhile, I'm trying to make this marriage work!" Bulma said, gesturing about them. The dinner. The lack of screaming child. "You didn't even compliment on my new dress. Or haircut!"

He hadn't even noticed. Vegeta wasn't a big fan of this kind of feedback, not feeling any constructiveness. "Bulma, I don't care. You look fine-"

"But I care!" She was in tears now, "I want you to talk to me! I want to... To come home and talk to you about my day, and have you listen! I want you to comment on my appearance!"

Okay, he'd had enough. "You know this shit doesn't matter to me! I'm happy to be in your presence, no matter what you look like. And I don't understand half the shit you do. You don't ask for a play by play about me sparring with Kakarot-"

"Oh, here we go!" She said, snorting out a sudden plume of smoke, making a big dramatic display of rolling her eyes, "Kakarot this and Kakarot that. You're obsessed!"

Vegeta was stunned, watching her storm back to the table and snatch up her beer bottle. "I'm not happy." She continued, "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you two were fucking." She took a long drink and went back over to the window, "At least that would make more sense to me."

Vegeta stood up from the table, chair scraping against the stone floor. If he had enough before, this was crossing a line. "If you want me to leave, you've given me enough reason." He growled, voice dangerously low, "But you're being unnecessarily cruel."

She said nothing for a while, looking out the onto the gardens, smoke coiling around her new hairdo. She sighed, loudly, her shoulders sinking. "I'm sorry. Bulla's keeping me up all night and I still have to work ten hour days. I find it unfair that you get to have fun." She murmured, still not meeting his eye.

"Fair, but not justification for your abuse." He said, feeling deeply hurt. He'd been with the woman for over a decade.

Bulma turned and looked at him, her mascara running, the foundation around her eyes shifting. It betrayed her age. She wasnt the 28 year old he'd been intimidated by all those years ago.

"Do you love me?" She asked, voice full of heartache.

Vegeta's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm fond of you, and you are the barer of my children." He answered, folding his arms up across his chest. If he still had a tail it would be flicking in irritation.

"But do you love me?" Bulma repeated the question, eyes full of soul.

Vegeta's jaw clenched and he said nothing, and that was all she needed.

Her eyes screwed up and she seemed to crumple inwards. "What do I need to do to make you love me like I love you?" She said with a sob, hands shaking.

He steadied her shoulders with his hands and stared into her eyes, "I'm perfectly comfortable. I've told you. Time and time again. We are wired differently. Your concept of love, romantic love, I don't feel it like you do. But I care for you. I protect you. I gave you two children. What else do you need?" His voice was soft. She had taught her how to be soft. She was one of his weaknesses.

An ungainly snort, clearing of throat. "We aren't happy, are we?" She whispered, "I need someone to make me happy."

...

"So... You don't want me." Vegeta concluded, licking his bottom lip and nodding, his ki starting to spike, flight or fight. Great. Just fucking great.

"I do... But you're not fulfilling my needs." Bulma sniffed, wiping her cheeks, "I love you. Even though... You're a stupid alien asshole-"

"Watch it." Vegeta gave her a look, but he had a small smirk now. Crisis aver-

At the lull, she screwed her eyes up and took a breath.

"I think we should see other people!"

...

"What?" Vegeta shrieked after a few moments of awkward silence. His eyes were comically wide and he definitely thought he was going to have a heart attack.

"Look," she said, stepping forward to calm him, putting her hand on his shoulder, "I don't wanna leave you! I just think... Maybe..."

"Maybe what?" A vein was throbbing in Vegeta's temple. He was still, like an animal ready to flee.

"Maybe we could open our marriage?" Bulma winced, trying to gauge how through the roof Vegeta was going to shoot.

Vegeta started shaking with rage and confusion. He grit his teeth, fists clenching. He didn't want to share his wife. God, how could she be so stupid? To even mention such a thing?

Well... It wasn't screaming, or running away. She patted his trembling bicep, "Think about it." She whispered, taking her beer out into the garden. Vegeta couldn't do anything but seethe.

He voluntarily slept in a spare room that night.

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