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Vegeta had a habit of mentally writing letters that he would never send.
When he lived under Frieza's thumb, it was insults to him and all of his little toadies.
Since coming to Earth and staying in the sprawling mansion of one of Kakarot's allies, the subject of the letters had changed.
Dear Earthwoman,
You're completely mad if you think I'd ever have an interest in someone like you.
I don't appreciate the mind games but I'll play along with your charity for now.
Stay away from me,
Vegeta
He would never say that aloud to her, or write it down. The less he engaged with any of the Earthlings the better. Albeit, the woman seemed to treat him with casual indifference afterwards.
Dear Earthwoman,
Why aren't you afraid of me? Did the trauma from Namek destroy your sense of fear? You should know when you're in the presence of a predator.
I worry for your sanity,
Vegeta
He really was concerned about her sanity. She brushed off any threats from him with a roll of her eyes, markedly different from the cowering on Namek.
But speaking of Namek...
Dear Earthwoman,
If anything, I was the hero saving you from Zarbon. I guarantee I was kinder than him.
—Vegeta
He didn't know why he needed to make that clear in his own head. Why it irritated him to hear her talk about heroes. Heroics nauseated him.
Dear Earthwoman,
I don't care what your name is. It is a ridiculous name.
You should feel lucky to even speak my glorious name,
Vegeta
"I still have nightmares about Namek," she mumbled when she thought he wasn't paying attention. She was talking on the phone with her paramour. "You were sitting up there the whole time with King Kai training with your buddies while I was hiding away in a stupid valley waiting to see if I was going to die or not. At least you were doing something. I was helpless and scared. Alone."
Dear Bulma,
You survived. That's the important part. Who cares what he has to say about it?
—Vegeta
"Why did I think you changed at all? If anything, dying made you worse !" she snarled to that man one night. "Have you lost your mind ?"
"Bulma, it's fine," that man was justifying himself. Pathetically, Vegeta would say, but they were both ignoring him. They had a habit of acting like he wasn't there, out of the assumption that he wasn't listening or didn't pay attention. "I'm just living my life to the fullest! Then when we're ready to settle down, we can do that. We can get married and have kids! Just like we wanted, right?"
"That's what you want," Bulma lowered her voice, finally acknowledging Vegeta with a flick of her gaze his way. "Let's talk about this somewhere else..."
Dear Bulma,
Why is he allowed to live his life how he wants but you are not? Perhaps I am mistaken, but I have the sense he would rather you played a role you do not wish to.
I still heard you even in the other room. He is a fool to try and suppress your desire to invent with mediocre domesticities.
Even I know you deserve better,
Vegeta
He reminded himself that the purpose of the mental letters was never "sending" them. Never speak his feelings and thoughts aloud.
Watching her take on so much trying to play an active role in the countdown to damnation was a kind of burden on his mind that he hadn't expected. It made him...want to break his own rule.
Dear Bulma,
You're doing too much. You're tired. You will be of no help to anyone if you break yourself.
I am not worth the fuss, why do you persist in caring for me?
—Vegeta
Vegeta ruthlessly quelled his desire to speak his mind to that cursed woman and get her to practice what she preached about taking a break.
Dear Bulma,
You are not eating well. You're going to interfere with my training just on being concerned about your sanity.
—Vegeta
One night he became so irritated with her forgoing a full meal to eat a goddamned muffin that he grabbed her, sat her down next to him, and forked his own food onto a plate, practically forcing her to eat.
"Wh—no, I can't!" she stammered. "This is yours—you—"
"Your mother will make more," he retorted, pushing the forkful of pulled pork into her face. "Eat."
Dear Bulma,
It was rude of me to force you to accept the food, I admit it. That is not proper Saiyan etiquette when initiating communal eating.
But, I know you're so goddamned stubborn you never would have accepted it without fear of causing me to "starve."
Apparently the only one invested in caring for you,
Vegeta
To his surprise, he found a note from Bulma in his room, bundled with a new set of battle clothes.
Vegeta,
I worked hard on these for you, so don't bust them up too soon.
Thanks for the food, but don't starve yourself on my account.
Your partner in uncivilized acts,
Bulma
He looked between the note and the gift for a while.
Your partner in uncivilized acts.
Your partner.
Yours .
He was making an effort to speak more to her now, voicing his concerns (disguised as criticisms) about her health. How much she put into it. His mental letters had stopped for a good while, until...
Dear Bulma,
I will not starve.
You've gotten hurt, lost sleep, haven't eaten all on my account.
I am still perplexed at what you think to accomplish with treating me like you regard me as an equal, but I do not dislike that about you.
Yours , Always,
Vegeta
The night they finally came together, he wanted to stay. He enjoyed lying there with her, arm around her while she rested on his chest.
But, he needed to leave. He had gone too far already. What was he doing? Coddling over her was bad enough, but this show of weakness?
Bulma stayed silent, seemingly unsurprised when he got up and redressed to leave. He almost wanted to reassure her that this wasn't what she was thinking...but, as always, wanted to preserve his dignity by being a coward more than that.
Dear Bulma,
I am sorry. Do not misinterpret my leaving. You must feel used. That was not my intention. I am not ashamed of what happened. I would not mind this happening again, but it must remain physical only. You understand, I am a coward and I don't deserve anything good we are both busy. I don't want to hold you back. It is merely a diversion we can indulge in, that is all.
It means more to me than that.
Yours, if you'll have me,
—Vegeta
He spoke...at least part of what his mental letter said to her, this time. She was amenable to keeping it physical. Even Vegeta could read between the lines and see it was what Bulma was expecting. That she had no illusions about it meaning anything and she was just another means to an end for someone.
Not that she would say any such things, Bulma had her pride just like he did. She would never allow insecurities to show, thus she boasted louder than anybody else trying to tear her down.
He admired that about her.
Dear Bulma,
I already knew you were pregnant with our child. I waited to see what you were going to say or do about it. I am glad unsurprised that you are keeping it. It's already strong. I am not fit to be a father. But at least my bloodline will continue.
Your suggestion about taking my training elsewhere so I am no longer distracted, especially with your pregnancy, is sound. Do you want me to leave? You hardly need to be worrying over me. I will be fine on my own.
I am worried that you won't be able to carry our child. I am not ignorant, Bulma, I know what toll pregnancy takes on certain species. Will it be the same for you? Will you die bringing our child into the world? What will I do if you die?
When I return, I will be a Super Saiyan.
—Vegeta
Despite his own worries, Bulma wasn't completely freezing him out. The logic was sound, she would still provide his equipment and friendly, if detached, banter. She didn't update him about her own health. She didn't mention her pregnancy. Actually, they mostly communicated through voice channels, so he couldn't see her.
Vegeta missed seeing her. Her eyes, her smile, that little wrinkle in her nose when she was concentrating or annoyed...
Bulma,
I miss you.
—V
The anger and grief that he felt at the idea Bulma might have died giving birth to their child, or their child might have died without ever taking its first breath, his frustration at plateauing and Kakarot always being ahead of him, just out of reach. (Kakarot always succeeded where he failed, in everything .)
All of that was pushed out by the high that overtook his mind when he ascended.
Nothing else mattered anymore, nothing but his strength. Nothing but showing those androids that he was the greatest fighter in the universe.
When he returned and she scolded him about frightening their son, he scoffed but did agree that he needed to learn to control the transformation. Unwilling to admit how addicted he was to the high of transforming and how it pushed out his anxieties and softer emotions.
Bulma,
Did you think I didn't notice you called Trunks your son? That you're acting indifferent to me again? Why? Why won't you let me see our son?
He didn't finish that mental letter. He knew why. Bulma took it to heart that they were nothing more than a distraction to him. Or, the impression he chose to give off. If he swallowed his pride and asked she would have let him see Trunks, but...Vegeta would never do that.
Dear Bulma,
I'm sorry I'm too much of a coward to be the kind of man that you deserve and the father Trunks needs. But I can kill these androids for you. I will put your worries to rest about their effect on the world. Perhaps then I will be worthy.
Yours,
Vegeta
He had been such a fool.
He got too cocky. He let the android attack Bulma and Trunks rather than going for the rusty bucket of bolts immediately. The damned thing ran away and all it got was the future version of his son angry with him. Vegeta passed it off as intentional and not a mistake. Made a show of saying the woman and her son didn't matter to him.
Bulma, however, spared no feelings towards the event—as far as he could tell, at least—and gave them valuable information about the android's real identity. That was the Bulma he knew, all right. Extremely brave or rather, having an extremely big death wish, but straightforward and logical.
Dear Bulma,
You brushed off the incident with admirable bravery. But I did not appreciate that crack about my face "scaring Trunks."
I think both versions of our son hate me. Some track record, hm?
Yours,
Vegeta
He pushed the older Trunks constantly. Too far. He could see that the admiration the boy might have had for him was turning into hatred.
But wasn't that what he deserved anyway? To be reviled by anyone he came into contact with, even if they were his own flesh and blood?
It was his fault things escalated with Cell. Trunks blasted him in the back with a willingness to kill that he didn't think was present in him...but then...considering the environment built on survival and desperation that he came from...
Bulma still ignored him. Coddled over Trunks (both of them). However...she did spare him a glance before he left their home.
"It was just as much everyone else's fault as yours, Vegeta."
Vegeta paused, stunned by her statement. "What?" he huffed, putting on a facade of lack of caring.
"Yeah...everyone wanted to fight the androids to relive their stupid glory days in the first place. Krillin refused to use and even broke the device I made to deactivate the androids. Hell, I'm sure you can even find some blame for me in there." She forced a laugh, moving her chair around to face their baby's bassinet. "I don't know what's going to happen in the coming days, Vegeta, I just have a bad feeling about it...don't blame yourself. Promise me."
He did not answer, though several thoughts swam through his head at what it all meant, why she was initiating contact with him now of all times, why she didn't blame him...it was illogical.
Breaking his own rule, Vegeta quickly scribbled down a letter for her before leaving.
Dear Bulma,
I will not make a vow I cannot keep. I do not know what will happen either, but whatever happens I will find a way to return to you, to our son.
Your partner in uncivilized acts,
Vegeta
Their ill feelings towards what was going to happen during the Cell Games turned out to be more prophetic than Vegeta ever thought.
He found himself automatically going in Bulma's room, to sit on her bed and stare at the floor. Thinking. Moping, really.
When she found him, she said nothing at first, not even a gasp of surprise at seeing him there. Instead, Bulma sat next to him and, quietly, held out her hand.
He took it, lacing his fingers into hers.
"It's not your fault," she said.
"I was too weak," he admitted.
"It's done," she responded, firmly. "Give yourself time, but don't blame yourself. Work on doing better."
He looked up at her. He wasn't certain what she was seeing, but reflected in her eyes he saw a broken man and yet...she was looking at him with understanding and...perhaps love?
"I have been..." Vegeta began, his voice soft. "Since I met you...I have been writing letters to you in my mind. Things I have wished to say but could not."
"To preserve your dignity, huh?" Bulma astutely said with a wry smile. "I figured...not the letters thing, but that you were hiding a lot of things in that brain of yours." She tilted her head, watching him, her mind clearly busy analyzing every micro expression she could. "Do you...have a letter for me now? Can I 'read' it?"
He gulped but eventually nodded. Taking a deep breath, Vegeta spoke his feelings aloud for the first time to Bulma: "Dear Bulma...I know we came together for reasons of loneliness and having...our own version of a bond. I know there was logic behind attempting to keep feelings out of it, I know you did not want to distract me or become a point of resentment in my mind. Another excuse to blame anything besides my shortcomings. But...it was never only a physical thing to me."
She made a little noise of understanding. If he allowed his mind to speculate too deeply, he almost tricked himself into thinking that she wanted to say that was me, too.
"We are not perfect. —Though you would say 'I don't know about you, but I'm definitely perfect' like the smartass that you are."
Bulma's expression turned into a smirk, but she still did not interrupt.
"...I would like to start over. With...with us. We can take it slower if you would prefer that, but I...I'm...'all in' for being Trunks' father and...trying to be the man that you deserve."
There was a pause after he had finished, the only sound being his nervous breathing thereafter. Bulma was still watching him with those luminous eyes that reflected himself in them, despite however much he wanted to avoid looking at himself.
"That's very sweet, Vegeta," Bulma said when the silence had gone on enough to indicate that he was done. "I've been writing letters to you myself. Can I 'write' one now, too?"
He nodded, a bit nervous at what sort of unloading she would do right at that second.
Bulma swallowed, straightened herself up, and started: "Dear Vegeta, I had the feeling that while trying to protect myself and Trunks, I was hurting you. I didn't like doing that, I'm sorry," her sincerity showed in her eyes as she turned her head to blink away tears, "I'm sorry. I realized I was falling in love with you and got scared. It never ended well for me in the past, y'know?"
Yes, I know. His heart fluttered at those words. ... She was falling in love with me. Me?
"I was angry at myself for catching feelings and wanted to push you away. I want to start over, too, but...I don't want you to feel like you're obligated or trapped. Especially now, since we all lost Goku. I'd never expect you to be domestic just for me, and I know you wouldn't expect that from me either. This isn't going to be easy, Vegeta. It's up to us not to run away from now on and actually talk to each other...or at least...if we need to be alone, tell each other." She shrugged, throwing up her hands. "Ah, well...that's my piece. You don't need to repeat all of that stuff about love that I said, we don't need to get married, if you're willing, so am I."
Well. Now that they had gotten it out of the way...
He shifted, looked at her, then down to the bed awkwardly.
She caught onto his gesture, smiling. "You want to stay here, huh?"
Vegeta nodded.
"All right," Bulma agreed. "Just don't do anything naughty. I know I'm hard to resist~" she teased.
"Man," he sighed with mock exhaustion, "What a vulgar woman you are."
"By the way…I read your real letter to me. My partner in uncivilized acts, huh? Cute~"
"Sh-shut up! You're the one who started that!"
Dear Bulma,
I love you as well. Though I don't fully understand that sentiment, I only feel it in my heart.
How stupid. I sound like Kakarot, don't I?
I am frightened of what the future will bring now, since I no longer have the will to fight. But thank you for giving me a second chance. I cannot promise things will be perfect, only that I will do my best.
Yours,
Vegeta