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Bulma laid a blanket out on the ground while her boyfriend watched with their toddler in his arms. Father and son’s faces mirrored each other’s, leaving no doubt they were of the same blood. They both wore judgmental looks like they were ready to scowl at the first person who approached them.
Bulma pitied the fact that Trunks inherited his father’s grumpy old mug and had to live with a resting mean face for the rest of his life, but at the same time she found it rather adorable how much he looked like Vegeta. They were a very handsome father-son pairing.
“Alright. Blanket, snacks, drinks—we’re all set!” Bulma said after popping the rest of the capsules and plopping down on the blanket. She was glad she chose this spot. It was nice and shaded, underneath a large pine tree.
Vegeta and son didn’t share half of her excitement.
“What’s the point of this again?” Vegeta asked. He set Trunks down quickly as if he couldn’t hold the boy for more than a few minutes and folded his arms. Trunks started galloping off towards the tree.
“It’s a picnic! P-i-c-n-i—"
“I know what a picnic is, dammit!” Vegeta huffed.
“Then stop complaining and get your Saiyan butt over here,” Bulma said.
Vegeta scanned the park twice over, either for potential threats or to save himself from public embarrassment, then sat down crisscrossed across from her.
“No, you don’t.” Bulma grabbed the sleeve of Vegeta’s shirt and tugged him towards her.
“Wh—!”
Vegeta knew he had the strength to stay put, but he could never find the willpower to fight back against Bulma. So, he ended up by her side, and let her nuzzle up against him and rest her cheek on his shoulder.
“That’s much better,” she said.
“Tch.” Vegeta turned his head away, cheeks dusting with blush.
“Hey, you agreed to this,” Bulma giggled, wrapping her hands around his bicep. He was so cozy.
“Did I? Or was I guilted into doing this for my ‘sweet, beautiful girlfriend’ who would be 'very, very sad' if I didn't come?” he mumbled.
“I wasn't trying to guilt you. I was simply speaking the truth."
“Hmph.”
Bulma nuzzled closer to him with a warm heart. She knew he'd never admit it, but he was doing this picnic to make her happy and to spend some well-needed time with Trunks that didn't involve angrily changing diapers. He was trying to be a good boyfriend and father—albeit imperfectly.
Bulma munched on a cracker as she watched Trunks run around the tree, crouching down in the grass to look at whatever caught his eye. He was fast for his age. Strong, too. The Saiyan genes were apparent, and he was growing into a fine boy.
“Look at ‘dis!” Trunks called.
He ran over to them with something in his hand.
“Daddy, look at ‘dis!” he repeated, holding out a pinecone to Vegeta.
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s a pinecone.”
Trunks inspected it with heavy eyebrows. “Pinecone,” he echoed under his breath. Then he was off again.
“You could show a bit more enthusiasm,” Bulma murmured.
Vegeta scoffed. “It’s just a stupid pinecone, how am I supposed—“
“Daddy, look!” Trunks called. Now he had two pinecones.
“Woah. More pinecones,” Vegeta said plainly.
Bulma facepalmed. At least he’s not completely ignoring him, she thought.
Satisfied, Trunks ran off in search of more. Next, he arrived with three pinecones, holding them out enthusiastically to Vegeta.
“Enough with the pinecones, Trunks,” he muttered.
Trunks frowned. When Vegeta’s expression of boredom didn’t change, the toddler trudged away overdramatically.
“Look, now you’ve hurt his feelings,” Bulma said, nudging Vegeta with an elbow.
“He won’t be a warrior if he gets coddled his entire life," Vegeta said self-righteously.
“That’s not even coddling! He just wants to show you something."
"And how long would that go on? Until the sun goes down?" he asked. He grabbed a grape from one of the baskets and lay down with his arms crossed behind his head.
Bulma shook her head to herself. Instead of letting herself get frustrated over Vegeta, she turned her attention back to Trunks, who had his arms full of pinecones and was crouching down to pick up more.
“Ugh!” Vegeta spat suddenly, he sat up, rubbing his forehead.
“What?”
“A pinecone fell on my head!” he barked.
Bulma snorted. His forehead was a pretty big target.
Vegeta glared at her through his eyebrows.
“Just lay back down, it probably won’t happen again." She brushed a reassuring hand down his arm.
“Fine…" Vegeta did so, closing his eyes. Another pinecone crashed down on his nose and he reeled forward, cupping it. “Dammit!”
Bulma sputtered out a laugh into her hand, eyes watering as she tried to conceal it.
“Are you doing this?” he demanded.
Bulma raised her hands. “Nope.”
“What about the brat?” Vegeta asked, turning his attention to Trunks who was still gathering pinecones.
Another pinecone fell, but this time it didn’t land on Vegeta. It fell on Trunk’s head. The toddler's proud collection of pinecones tumbled out of his chubby arms. He rubbed the top of his head, eyes watering.
“I’ve had enough of this bastard tree,” Vegeta growled, getting up at once.
“Vegeta, wait,” Bulma gasped, but Vegeta already had his mind made. He stomped towards the tree, got into a fighting stance, and punched it.
What Bulma expected to be an obliterating punch and a tree reduced to rubble was anything but. He held back his punch just enough to have every single pinecone fall out at once, littering the forest floor and their picnic with a sheet of pinecones.
Trunk’s jaw was agape. He marveled at the ground, then up at his father with a huge smile.
“Pinecones!” the toddler bellowed, pointing a finger. “Look, Daddy!”
Vegeta smirked. “Indeed, Trunks. Pinecones.”
Vegeta strolled back to the picnic, brushed away the pinecones, and settled back down next to Bulma.
Trunks was still at the tree, attempting to punch it the same way his dad did while yelling, “Pinecones! Pinecones! Pinecones!”
“Look at you, making your son smile,” Bulma said. She kissed Vegeta on the cheek, resulting in a surprised grunt from his end.
“Hm. It’s not like I was trying to,” Vegeta began, looking at his knees bashfully.
Bulma snuggled against him, grinning. I could never deny your efforts, you big softie.
