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Bulma had come up to him that evening after his training session. She’d found him in the kitchen, wiping the sweat off his face with a fresh towel. He should have known she was hiding something from the sly smirk on her face, but he’d been too tired to notice it.
That both hands were hidden behind her back however, did catch his attention.
“What are you looking at like that.” Vegeta grumbled, looking his wife up and down.
“I got you something.” she replied, leaning forward.
“Hn. New bot?” Vegeta always looked forward to her bot advances.
“Not this time. Here.”
Bulma pulled a small silver cylinder from behind her. Vegeta peered at the tech she was presenting him, his curiosity fading quickly. This didn’t look like anything that he could use for training, but the woman had proved him wrong before.
“What is it then?”
“A surprise. For you.” Bulma’s grin seemed to widen. “I spoke to Jaco and got him to get some footage for me- anyways. It’s a projector. You hit this-” she pointed to a small button on the side of the device. “-and it’ll project onto the ceiling.”
Vegeta huffed, decidedly unimpressed. “Onna, I’m not watching some space flick that patrolman conjured up.”
Bulma rolled her eyes. “Oh for Kami’s sake- just take it. You’ll like it.”
She pressed the device into his chest, forcing him to take it in one hand.
“I’ll be home late so don’t wait up for me okay?” she told him, leaning in to peck his cheek. “Science expo is tonight.”
Vegeta huffed an acknowledgment, staring down at the small projector as his wife walked away.
“Oh and take a shower!” she yelled back one more time, the door slamming closed behind her.
The saiyan growled, reminding himself she didn’t mean anything by it. He sniffed dismissively, right before suddenly noticing that he did indeed agree with her. A shower was in order.
Climbing to their room, he contemplated the device she gave him again. Space videos. Not something he was particularly interested in. He’d seen plenty of space, not much of it pleasant. Nothing worth remembering after a long days training.
He pushed open the door to their bedroom with a sigh, not looking down at the projector as he set it down on his bedside table to be forgotten before walking into their en suite bathroom.
Vegeta welcomed the hot spray of the shower, the water easing his muscles and calming him. He couldn’t help but remember the times he’d bathed in lakes and rivers during his purges, or the timed cold showers the PTO offered.
He frowned as the memories returned. Reflecting on his past was not something he indulged in often, not a useful exercise. He turned off the water to the shower, lazily towelling off in the humid bathroom air. No, the past was no place for his mind.
Vegeta shuffled back into the bedroom, not bothering to turn on any of the lights. He could still see in the darkness and sleep was starting to take him anyways. He eased himself into bed slowly, relishing in the ache of well trained muscles. A good, productive day.
He stayed there for a moment, hand crossed on top of his stomach, looking absent mindedly at the ceiling.
*You hit this and it’ll project onto the ceiling.*
Rolling his head to the side, he looked at the small device Bulma had given him. Space videos. Not a chance.
*I spoke to Jaco and got him to get some footage for me.*
What footage could that fool even get that would be worth watching. Probably something he’d already seen before.
*You’ll like it.*
Vegeta glared at the small device. What in the universe could his devious wife have found out in space that he would enjoy. He hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about his time in space, but she knew enough to know he had left it behind for a reason.
…maybe it was a fight? Some new technique he could study?
Curisosity killed the cat, and the saiyan prince reached out to the device with a huff. No sooner had he pressed the button on the side of the thing that a bright light was cast onto the ceiling. Vegeta laid back down to watch as the image came into focus.
His breath caught in his throat.
Alien characters appeared, all too familiar. Saiyago.
The night sky from Vegetasei.
He read over the words a few times, still shocked to see his dead language appear so suddenly.
Then, the script changed.
I love you.
The words blinked out of view, suddenly replaced by a stunning view. The projection bloomed above him, and for a moment it was as if they stood once more beneath their own sky.
Constellations he had studied as a child spread across the ceiling—sharp white stars pricking through the darkness, clustered in patterns that whispered of home. The moon gleamed just where it always had, the twin suns gleamed side by side, and the silver haze of the galaxy stretched like a river spilling across the heavens. Even the faint red star at the horizon flickered faithfully, exactly as he remembered it.
Vegeta sat in silence, his mouth slightly agape. He watched as the stars twinkled, slowly remembering the names of each one. His father had been the one to teach him the systems, which ones were allies, which were enemies, which he was destined to conquer.
It was a sight both ordinary and magnificent. The stars had not changed, though the world beneath them disappeared. For a moment, the projection made the walls around him vanish, and he was home again.
He blinked, surprised to find it harder to breathe than before. The projection flickered, and looped back to the beginning.
The night sky from Vegetasei.
That woman and her schemes.
I love you.
Vegeta swallowed hard, eyes tracing the constellations until they blurred. He turned his head toward the empty side of the bed, the faint scent of her perfume still lingering on her pillow.
“Tch… woman,” he muttered, but the word came softer this time, almost tender.
The stars bloomed above him once more, her hidden message burning brighter than all the rest. He didn’t switch the projector off. Instead, he let it play on, his chest easing as he imagined her beside him, watching the same sky. For once, he allowed the quiet to linger, and in it he felt her love as surely as the ache of his own.
When sleep finally claimed him, it was beneath her stars, not his.