Work Text:
Espresso:
It had been a very busy day and Bulma was anxious to finish her work and get home. She was working on a new design of encapsulated vehicle for a very difficult client and had until morning to complete it.
She went over her diagrams for the umpteenth time while sipping on her espresso and hoping he would accept the design this time.
Once she finally got home, Vegeta was rummaging the refrigerator, which he always did after training.
He was silent until he sat down next to her with a full plate. “Bulma,” he said. She looked over in his direction. “I’m worried about the boy.”
Grind:
Bulma rolled her eyes. “What did he destroy this time?”
“He didn’t destroy anything,” Vegeta replied. “Escholotte is old enough to train and Trunks refuses to train with her.”
“First good decision I’ve heard all day.”
Vegeta gave her a look. “She’s a Saiyan,” he reminded. “She was born to be a warrior just like any other Saiyan.”
Bulma glared at him. “Really? And I thought it would be different this time around, especially as protective as you were of her when she was born.”
“So you think because she’s female she’d be content playing tea party?” he spat.
Why should this even surprise her?
Just like with Trunks.
Coffee Date:
“She isn’t even four yet,” Bulma reasoned.
“Kakarot’s granddaughter trained earlier than that,“ Vegeta told her, “and she kicked ass at the tournament.”
True, but Bulma was just hoping her daughter wouldn’t be shoehorned into the whole ‘Saiyan warrior’ thing. She and her husband had talked at length about it over coffee several times, but he just didn’t seem to get it.
“And, besides,” he continued, “a warrior’s potential has nothing to do with gender-”
“I never said it had anything to do with her being a girl,” she blurted. “I just want at least one of our kids to live a normal human life.”
Whipped Cream:
Vegeta jumped off his seat so fast it nearly knocked his wife off her own. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he spat.
Bulma stood and got into his face. “It means I don’t want her to spend her life going out and getting hurt for shiz and giggles like you do! It’s bad enough I’ve had to worry about Trunks all these years!”
“You think just because life here has been nothing but strawberries and whipped cream for the past ten years I want my children trained just for fun?” Vegeta stated. “Wake up, woman!”
Caramel:
“You think you’re the only one who worries about our children?” he added. “They have to be prepared for the next threat that comes along, and if you think there won’t be one, you’re living in a dreamworld.”
Sweat dampened his caramel skin as he continued. “Kakarot and I may have a few good years left just because we’re Saiyans, but the rest of us are getting older and soon won’t be able to fight. Our children will have to take the mantel one day and they have to be ready when that time comes.”
Black, no Sugar:
“That may be so,” Bulma agreed. “It’s just… I can’t stand the thought of my children not having a real childhood. Hell, Trunks got absorbed and then killed by Buu when he was just eight!” She was in tears now over the memory.
“That happened because he wasn’t prepared enough,” he said. “Spoiling our children and sugar coating everything so they don’t realize how dangerous the universe is will more likely get them killed. Even Trunks has been neglecting his training because he thinks everything's hunky-dory and doesn’t want to train with his sister because you want him to protect her. How does that not even sound contradictory to you?”
Skin like Mocha:
“Dad, mom, is everything alright?” Trunks asked from the kitchen door, Bulla standing next to him. It still surprised Bulma how much he looked like his father and yet didn’t. He had the same brow and mocha skin, but was taller and as mild mannered as his mother. As a child, he was hard and fiesty like his father, yet had softened up a bit since then.
Bulla looked exactly like Bulma from the day she was born. Though spoiled and sheltered, she had asked to be trained more than once, which scared her mother to no end.
Rush:
“Come here, son,” Vegeta said, motioning his children to him. “Tell me, why are you refusing to train with your sister again?”
“Because mom told me it was my job to protect her,” he replied. “Besides, I didn’t think I would be able to train with her because she’s a…” He hesitated.
“Because she’s a girl, right?” Bulma asked, now clearly insulted.
“I told you before, son, women can fight. We even fought women in the Tournament of Power, including two Saiyans, and they were damn good fighters.”
“Yeah, I know, dad,” Trunks said. “But, why rush it with the kid anyway?”
A Cup of Tea:
“Look, mister,” Bulma said, hands on her hips. “I know training with your sister isn’t exactly your cup of tea, but how dare you assume she can’t fight just because she’s a girl.”
“Yeah, Trunks!” Bulla agreed.
“Honestly, I never thought you’d be so sexist! Where did you even get the idea that girls can’t fight?”
“But, I thought-”
“I don’t care what you ‘thought,’” Bulma spat with a finger in his face. “If you don’t think your sister can fight, you’ve got another thing coming! You’re training with her, starting tomorrow after school and that’s final!”
Barista:
Trunks and Vegeta both looked at her in shock. “Uh… okay, if you say so,” Trunks said as his sister cheered before bounding off to bed, her mother following to tuck her back in.
“See, dad,” Trunks winked, “told you mom would agree if we served it up right. You know how she is about the whole equality thing.”
Vegeta chuckled. “I don’t think she even realizes what she just agreed to, but I’m holding her to it. Besides, it’s time you got back into shape yourself, young man.
“You don’t say,” Trunks sighed. His father would whip him back into shape alright.