Chapter Text
Bulma wiped sweat off her brow with the back of a gloved hand, leaving a streak of motor oil in its wake. She grit her teeth in frustration as she tightened a bolt.
It had been months since Trunks returned to his time. Bulma had asked him if she could keep the time machine Cell had used so she could tinker with it.
She’d been trying to get past the tinkering phase since.
Just making heads or tails about the mechanics of this thing was a challenge. Oh, she managed to figure out some of it, being the genius that she is. Hell, she at least figured out how to make the fuel. But the whole time travel aspect of it still eluded her. How does it even do that?
And that was the crux of it. How does a piece of machinery do the impossible? It had to be more than just cogs and gears, right?
“Woman,” an all too familiar voice bellowed.
Bulma groaned as she pivoted on her stool. “What the hell do you want? I’m busy.”
“And that’s the problem,” Vegeta said. “You’ve been so busy with that stupid thing you haven’t even replaced the drones in the gravity room like you promised.”
“Hey, buddy, I didn’t promise you anything.” Bulma stood, glaring at him. “Besides, whatever happened to, ‘I’m no longer a warrior and I will fight no more?’”
“I still have to train,” Vegeta said. “And I expect you to do as I ask. We’ve created progeny, after all.”
“Just because we had a baby together doesn’t mean you own me, you jerk. We’re not even a couple.” She had no doubt about that. Since their one-time encounter, Vegeta had shown no interest in her. At least, not in the romantic sense. He was as cold and demanding as ever, and it hurt.
“Where is the brat, anyway?” Vegeta looked around as Bulma put her wrench back in the toolbox.
“Our son is with his grandmother at the moment,” she replied. “Trunks was starting to get into everything, so I couldn’t have him in here with me anymore.”
“Don’t you have that cage to put him in?”
“Playpen, Vegeta,” she said. “He climbs out of that thing now. So, Mom takes care of him while I work.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“Oh, p-lease, Vegeta, give me a break already,” she said as she removed her gloves.
Vegeta frowned as he looked the machine up and down. “You honestly think you can get the stupid thing to work?”
Bulma put her hands on her hips. “You know, I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve had this conversation. I’ve told you, it’s a little thing called scientific curiosity. You can’t possibly blame me for being intrigued. I have to know how this sucker works.”
“And, in the meantime, you’re neglecting our son,” he said.
“Says the guy that didn’t even bother to keep us from falling to our deaths when he fought the androids.”
Vegeta opened his mouth, then closed it again. She had him on that one. If the future version of their son hadn’t saved them they would both likely be dead.
“And, need I remind you how you left the planet right after I told you I was pregnant?” Bulma’s tone was sharp as heat rose in her face. “You didn’t want this family and you still don’t care. You just want me to be at your beck and call at all times.”
“Okay, never mind,” he said. “I just don’t understand why you spend so much time with something that isn’t going to work.”
“It will work, Vegeta.” Bulma picked up a white box off her work table. “Meantime, I should put this somewhere on the ship.”
“What the hell is that thing?”
Bulma walked up to him and opened the box to show him the contents. “Tools, food, supplies, in case I get stranded when I make the first test run.”
Vegeta huffed as she closed it and turned to the ship.
“I think the cockpit would be a good place.” Bulma turned to Vegeta again. “Would you mind giving me a boost? I put the ladder away already and don’t feel like messing with it again.”
“Isn’t there a supply hatch you can put that thing in?”
“Nope,” she replied. “Guess future me didn’t think Trunks would need one if we could just keep our supplies in capsules.”
“And you really expect me to carry you up there when you could do it yourself?”
“Yes.” She looked up at him with puppy eyes. “Please? I’ll get to work on the droids for you afterwards. I’m done with this thing for today anyway.”
“Ugh!” Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Fine, Woman.”
Vegeta held her by the waist from behind and flew them both into the cockpit.
A few minutes passed as Vegeta’s patience wore thin. “Just put it in the seat already.”
“I just want to make sure it’s somewhere secure,” she said. “I don’t think the seat is secure enough.”
“Sheesh, Woman, how long does it take to find a place for some stupid box?”
Bulma got up into his face. “For your information, jerk, this ‘stupid box’ could mean the difference between life and death.”
“Okay, fine, just hurry up.”
“Geez, what’s the rush, anyway?” She looked under the console for the fourth time. “I said I’d replace the droids for you, didn’t I? Just keep your shirt on.”
“Well, forgive me if I don’t possess the patience you require.”
“And you don’t require my patience, buddy?”
“Look, you’re not going anywhere yet,” he said. “So, does it really matter where you put it now?”
“Just sit tight and we’ll be out of here, alright?”
Vegeta leaned against the console with a huff.
The ship’s engine systems came to life.
“Vegeta!” Bulma’s eyes went wide. ”What the hell did you do?”
“Nothing, I- I don’t know,” he replied, just as shocked. “I just leaned on the console-”
“And sat on the switch that activates the launch sequence, you idiot!” Bulma promptly sat and went to work. “I’ll try and stop this thing if I can.”
“If you can?” Vegeta yelled as he sat next to her.
“I haven’t gotten even close to being done with repairs on this thing,” she explained as she frantically worked the controls. “I’m surprised it even activated.”
“We need to get out of here,” he suggested.
“We can’t,” she said. “Once the launch sequence is activated, we’re sealed in.”
“Then, stop this thing.”
“I’m trying!”
“Try harder!”
Bulma made several attempts to deactivate the launch sequence, but none of the controls were responding. Lift-off had begun, and soon they were in a vortex.
Bulma gave Vegeta a death stare.
Vegeta said nothing.