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It was too damn hot for the beginning of autumn.
That didn’t stop the citizens of West City from piling up in the middle of a street to window shop local vendors.
It especially didn’t stop Bulma from doing the same.
The only difference between Bulma and the other citizens of West City was that she definitely wasn’t window shopping. In fact, she was so good at not window shopping that Vegeta's hands and wrists were full of shopping bags while he had a seven-month-old baby strapped to his chest.
“Isn’t this so cute, honey?” Bulma asked. She held up a green dress with floral designs and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.
The vendor nodded enthusiastically even though he wasn’t being spoken to. He recognized Bulma as the face of Capsule Corporation. Vegeta learned early on in their relationship that only people living under rocks didn't recognize her. The vendor knew she was the richest woman in the world and could buy his entire stock of handmade dresses if she really wanted to.
Vegeta wasn’t listening to Bulma though. Instead, he was listening to Bulla on his chest who was starting to fuss.
Bulma made sure to lather the baby with sunscreen and put a hat on her back at home, but that wasn’t enough to stop the heat of the midday sun.
Vegeta’s knuckles went white around the bag handles the more Bulla cried. The sound broke his heart every time.
“Thank you so much!” Bulma said in a sing-song voice after finishing her purchase. She wiggled her fingers goodbye at the vendor and then motioned for Vegeta to take the bag.
Vegeta just looked at her from the corner of his eye.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Bulla’s getting hot.”
“Aww, let me see ‘er.” Bulma grabbed the baby from the carrier and held her at her hip. “Is it too hot out for you, ya’ little onion?”
Bulla’s eyes were brimmed with tears, yet she laughed at her mother’s tone of voice.
“I know, it’s way too hot for autumn, isn’t that right?” Bulma pinched Bulla’s chubby cheek, and the baby giggled.
Vegeta watched with narrowed eyes. As Bulma stepped out of the pop-up canopy and decided which vendor stall she wanted to go to next, Bulla began to pout again. The baby's cheek was pressed against her mom's shoulder, and her blue eyes were glassy and big when they met with Vegeta's.
The sight of it was worse than being punched in the face.
“Nope, nope, nope,” Vegeta said, dropping all the bags and grabbing Bulla from Bulma’s arms.
“Wh…what are you doing?” Bulma asked, exasperated.
“We’re finding an air-conditioned place to take her.”
“Okay, but you can’t just leave me here with all the bags!” Bulma complained.
Vegeta hoisted Bulla against his hip and pointed to the vendor. The man straightened immediately.
“You! Help my wife carry the bags," Vegeta demanded.
Bulla laughed at her dad’s voice, staring up at him with glowing cheeks and tears still in her eyes.
“O-of course, sir!” the vendor jumped out of his seat and did as he was told.
Vegeta marched out into the busy street and surveyed the buildings that surrounded it. The crowds of people that passed were forced to move around him, but Vegeta didn't give a damn.
Bulma met his side, her entire forearm full of bags. “Don’t start running off without me, okay?”
Vegeta didn’t respond. He was too busy with his mission.
Jewelry store. No.
Auto parts store. No.
Lingerie store. Definitely no. Well, maybe another time, without Bulla.
Vegeta growled in frustration. "Dammit, does any child-friendly shop exist on this damn street?"
As his eyes bounced from building to building, they finally landed on one with a giant ice cream cone extending out the front.
Bingo.
Vegeta took Bulma’s free hand. She yelped as he pulled her onward. The vendor followed behind with wide eyes.
“Jerk!” someone snapped as Vegeta forced his way through the crowd.
“You don’t own the place, asshole!” another said.
“Shut your hole!” Vegeta shouted, and the person did exactly that, turning away quickly.
Bulla belly laughed as if she heard the silliest joke ever told, while Bulma called out an apology to the man.
“Vegeta!” Bulma hissed behind his shoulder. “You’re gonna cause a scene if you don’t pull yourself together.”
“What are they gonna do, call the cops?” Vegeta said smugly.
Bulma sighed heavily. “I don’t know who the bigger hassle is, you or Bulla.”
When they made their way to the front of the shop, Vegeta groaned when he saw a line of people extending out of the front doors.
"Out of the way!" he barked, pushing his way inside. "We have an overheating baby here."
When they finally got inside, Vegeta sat down at a table in a huff. Bulma groaned when she dropped the bag and plopped down in the chair. The vendor set the bags down and giggled awkwardly.
“Here, for having to deal with my troublesome husband,” Bulma said, pulling a wad of zeni out of her wallet and smacking it in the vendor’s hand.
The vendor ran out of the shop laughing excitedly.
“Look at her, her cheeks are all red,” Vegeta said, holding Bulla out in front of him. Despite the obvious signs she had been crying, Bulla's cheeks lifted at the sight of her dad.
"Bulla crying because it's hot doesn't mean her life is in peril, you know that right?" Bulma sighed, resting her forehead in her hand. "Gee, I won't be surprised if this ends up in a news story. I can see it now: 'Bulma Briefs spotted with her crazy husband on market day'!"
"Hmph. The safety of our child is more important than some stupid story on the news."
That made Bulma smile. The care he had for their baby girl meant the world to her. Perhaps she was being too hard on him.
Bulma got up from her seat. "I’ll go get an ice cream to cool us off."
When she came back with a heaping cone of rust-colored ice cream, Vegeta asked what flavor it was.
“Pumpkin,” she said.
Vegeta curled his lip. “That sounds putrid.”
Bulma clicked her tongue. “You’ve lived on this Earth for however many years and you haven’t heard of pumpkin ice cream?”
“Pumpkin this, pumpkin that, it all becomes one big blur.”
“Just try it, tough guy.” Bulma held the cone out in front of him.
Vegeta skeptically leaned in for a lick.
Bulla, however, had other plans. With her chubby fingers, she reached for the cone and ripped it out of Bulma's hand with the kind of strength only a half-Saiyan would have. She took a giant, messy glob in her mouth and smacked away at the ice cream happily.
Vegeta frowned. “Tch. You brat.”
He tried to pull the ice cream towards him but Bulla wouldn’t let go.
“It’s hers now,” Bulma laughed.
Vegeta huffed and placed his chin on the palm of his hand. They watched in silence as Bulla devoured the ice cream bite by bite.
“You did good," Bulma murmured, placing her soft palm on his bicep. "You approached the situation very chaotically, but you did good."
"Mm. I guess so," he grumbled. Vegeta still wasn't over the fact that Bulla had cried.
"She's fine, Vegeta," Bulma said as if she could read his mind. "I mean, that's the happiest baby alive right there."
Bulla smiled from ear to ear when Vegeta frowned down at her. She then stuffed an ice cream-covered hand into her mouth with an appetite befitting of a Saiyan princess.
Vegeta's frown shifted into an uncontrollable smile.
"Okay, maybe you're right," he said.
"Always am," Bulma quipped. She leaned across the table and kissed his cheek.
Vegeta harrumphed and turned away, but there was no denying that his heart was filled with a wonderful feeling of contentment.