Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Prompted VegetaBulma ❯ Taking A Break ( Chapter 23 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Prompt: "Distance".
A/N: This is a sequel to the other oneshots "Relax a Little" and "Lost". I may end up making this into a "7 year gap" story later on, but for now I am just writing these when the prompts fit for what I really want to do.
A/N2: I've really been wanting to do a story like this ever since I started writing B/V stuff all those months ago XD And Frieza is a total Pain in the Ass to write! So hopefully he came out all right. Aside from that, I had a lot of fun writing this ^^

Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.

He bolted upright, hands resting on the bed sheets. His eyes were wide and out of focus. He felt the sweat clinging to his skin as the cool air in the room wafted around the enclosed space. He blinked a few times, trying to bring his senses back into reality. After his vision finally cleared, he glanced at the body beside him. His face grew into a heavy scowl, but he blew a small breath of relief from between his lips.

He lifted his hands from the bed--his arms feeling heavy and over used--as he turned his body to the side. His feet dangled off the edge of the bed before finding the plush carpet underneath them. He brought his hands up to cover his face, before running up and over his sweat-laced hair. This was the third night in a row, not including the ones he’d had prior to this week.

It had been about a month since he’d returned from his trip out in space, and he had hoped that being back on Earth would be reason enough to stop the horrid dreams. Nightmares. He scoffed lightly, not wanting to wake Bulma, as he pushed silently away from the bed. He rubbed his hands over his face again. Who was he kidding? They weren’t even nightmares, they were just memories replaying in his head as he slept.

He slipped from the bedroom, being sure to measure the pressure of his steps so he wouldn’t make noise as he walked. Then he pulled the door closed, one hand on the knob as the other rested on the sturdy wooden surface so he wouldn’t pull too harshly. After clearing the room, he started down the darkened hallway. He glanced over a few doors down at his son’s room. The door was closed, but he just stood there for a few seconds, reaching out to sense the boy’s ki.

After making sure the brat was safe and sleeping, he continued on his way. He scoffed again. He may not of been the best dad in the world. He was probably the furthest from it, but he would be damned if he let anything happen to his son--namely being given or even taken by some psychotic being. He shook his head at his thoughts. It sounded a bit hypocritical as he was reminded suddenly of when he’d first learned of the brat.

His fingers dug into his hair, the tips rubbing against his scalp. ‘I need sleep. Not worrying over stupid shit that doesn’t even matter anymore,’ his mind told him. So, clearing his mind, he searched out a part of Capsule that hadn’t seemed used in awhile. Finding a small bedroom, he entered and closed the door behind him. His enhanced vision giving him the ability to see everything perfectly clear in the small windowless room. He moved to the bed and took the covers off before laying down. He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

“My dear little Vegeta,” the Ice-jin trilled as he levitated out of his pod to be on the ground.

Vegeta bowed to his Lord. His right knee on the floor, his right hand fisted beside it. “You requested to see me, Lord Frieza?” He kept his head bowed, not wanting to show the lizard the hatred that he knew would be etched onto his features for a few seconds.

“Yes.” Frieza stepped closer his subject. “I must say, I’m surprised to see you acted so quickly to my request, little Vegeta.” Frieza used his tail to lift the teenage boy’s head so he could stare into the black eyes.

Vegeta felt a twitch in his spine as the Ice-jin’s tail touched under his chin. After Frieza had gained his attention, the tip of the tail caressed his cheek. He kept his focus on the creature, though. He wouldn’t show that he was disgusted by the very affectionate touching.

Frieza gave the boy a smirk. “Stand for me. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my favorite little monkey, hasn’t it?”

Vegeta held back the growl he felt bubbling in his chest and lungs. “Yes.” He pushed up with his fist, coming to stand on both feet. “It has, Lord Frieza.” He once again had to school his features and his tone of voice to not let the disgust and anger seep through. However there was nothing he could do about the fur on his tail--which was wrapped tightly around his waist--from hackling.

“And, my, how you’ve grown! You’re almost as tall as I.”

Vegeta held his head high and his back was now ramrod straight, putting him at the same height as his master. “It appears so,” boredom lacing his reply. This was why he hated being summoned in front of Frieza. He could take the beatings and the forced petting, but he couldn’t take the chit-chat. It meant something much more horrible was to come than the aforementioned. Something he would be able to do nothing about but survive.

Frieza laughed. “Still not one for conversation, I see.”

Vegeta caught the Ice-jin’s eyes again, a small scowl now starting to etch onto his stoic features. “We both know that’s not why you called me in here.”

Frieza sighed and slumped his shoulders for only a second before regaining his stature and smirking. “I suppose you’re right.” He levitated back into his pod before continuing. “I have a mission for you,” he told the Saiyan in a bored yet commanding voice.

“Where will we be going this time?”

Frieza’s smirk turned cruel. “Not we, Vegeta. You.” He chuckled as he caught the slightest twitch of the Saiyan’s tail. “It’s been a while since you’ve proven your worth around here. I’m curious to see just how much my little monkey prince has grown.”

Vegeta felt his gloved hands curl into fists at the mocking words. The tip of his tail flicking with agitation. “Is everything prepared?” even his voice was now barely able to keep the spite out of it.

Frieza cackled at the boy’s barely contained rage. “Of course.”

Vegeta turned to leave.

“Have a safe journey, and do come back alive, my dear sweet monkey.”

Vegeta’s fists tightened even further at the tyrant’s parting words. It had been the same for the last thirteen years. Of course, as a young boy he hadn’t been able to detect the underlying threats, or perhaps back then there hadn’t been a need for it. Either way, Vegeta knew that he was just a toy for the tyrant. Luckily, he was a valuable toy. He was almost captain level at the age of eighteen! A feat not heard of being accomplished at such a young age. “Thank you, Lord Frieza. I will do my best,” he said without turning around before hastily retreating.

Bulma rolled over after turning her alarm off. She sat up and felt the other side of the bed. It was cold, as it had been for the last three nights. She sighed. Was he starting to rethink things and decided she wasn’t worth the time? She stood up and stretched before walking to her closet and picking out an outfit for the day.

Since he’d come back from his “trip” he hadn’t been the same. He was….quieter. Oh man, even to her that sounded impossible. The man barely talked to begin with, but it wasn’t his talking she was concerned about. It was his posture, his body language, the look in his eyes.

She picked her outfit, slinging the clothing over her arm before heading to take a shower and start her day. After getting herself ready, she went to get Trunks up. She entered the room to see her little boy just sitting and waiting for her.

“Breakfast?”

The boy nodded, a small smile on his lips as he hopped out of bed.

As they walked to the kitchen, she was surprised to see Vegeta’s breakfast laid out on the table with not a bite missing. She saw her son look toward the feast before looking back at her, silently pleading to let him eat. She nodded her head, and the boy scrambled into the chair nearest the mountain of plated food.

Bulma sat down next to her son, watching as the little boy shoveled pancakes and eggs into his mouth. Saiyans were really fascinating yet disturbing when watching them eat.

It wasn’t long after that her mother walked in with her ever present smile.

“Mom,” Bulma started her question, “have you seen Vegeta yet?”

“No, darling. He didn’t even come eat breakfast. I’m glad to see it not going to waste, though.” Her mother’s cheerfulness never waning.

“Hmm.” It wasn’t unusual for Vegeta to skip a meal or two, but not if he’d been out training since early morning. “Do you mind watching Trunks while I check something out.”

“Of course not, sweetie. You take as much time as you need. Trunks and I will be just fine.” Her mother’s voice indicating that she thought her daughter had other motives than just checking things out.

“Thanks, Mom.” She walked down the halls of Capsule towards the GR. Upon nearing, she could already tell it wasn’t in use. “Where the hell is he?” He surely hadn’t taken off again. He’d just been out in space for 3 months! She growled. Here she thought he was getting better at telling her when he was leaving instead of just running off. She stomped her way back to the kitchen to find her mother wiping down Trunks.

“Oh, that was quick.” Her mother looked up in surprise at her daughter’s reappearance. “Do I need to cook more food?”

“No. He wasn’t training. I don’t know where he’s gotten to this time, either.” Her mother finished cleaning Trunks and let the boy go. ‘If only Trunks could sense ki.’ Maybe when Vegeta reappeared she could ask him about that.

So, the day went on as usual. Bulma’s mind still backtracking to Vegeta, wondering what he was up to and why he hadn’t notified her of his absence. Lunch came and went with still no sign of him. She even rechecked the GR to still find no signs of it being used. It was almost dinner time when she heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

She was in the main living area of the house, Trunks’ toys scattered all over the floor, and she had the television on for background noise. She turned so she was now looking over the back of the couch.

Vegeta yawned. He couldn’t believe he’d slept so long! Of course, half the time he wasn’t sleeping; he was reliving his past. He ignored the two ki’s in the room as he headed toward the kitchen. He may not have trained his body today, but he hadn’t eaten since last night’s dinner.

Bulma watched as he headed past her without a word. ‘At least he didn’t run off again.’ However, she didn’t like that he was ignoring her. He usually gave her a grunt or a nod in her general direction, but not today. Something was definitely wrong with him. After he left the room, she turned back to look at Trunks--who seemed unaffected by the aloof man that had just passed by him.

Bulma stood and went to where Trunks was playing with a few toys. “Mommy is going to talk with Daddy for a few minutes. Can you be a good boy?” she asked as she crouched down to his level.

“Daddy?” Trunks pointed toward the kitchen, then he pointed at her. “Mommy go talk.”

Bulma nodded.

“Trunks be good boy. Play with toys.” He held up a car to show his mother.

Bulma smiled this time. She wasn’t sure if Trunks had gotten her and her father‘s brain (of course, Vegeta was no dummy, either) or if it was a Saiyan thing, but she was glad the boy understood and could be left alone for at least a few minutes without causing trouble. After all, he was still a child! She kissed her little boy on the forehead before standing.

When she got to the kitchen Vegeta was already pulling a plate of food from the fridge.

“What?” his voice a little deeper than usual and holding a growl to it.

“I was worried about you. I thought you took off again.” She stood near the entrance of the kitchen as Vegeta took his plate to the table, not even bothering to warm it up.

He glanced at her before heading back to the fridge to get a drink. “Well I’m still here, so you can stop worrying now.”

She walked over to the cabinets to pull out a cup, then reached down to the drawers and pulled out some silverware. “What’s wrong?” she asked smoothly.

He stalked over to her, snatching the items she held out to him. “Nothing. Why would there be anything wrong with me?” he stated as he turned his back to her and headed back to the table.

“Your side of the bed has been cold for the last three days,” she answered.

He scoffed. “You should be used to that, shouldn’t you?” He didn’t want to have an argument, at least not about that, when anyone could walk in on them.

She crossed her arms over her chest and strolled over to the table. “Usually it’s not cold. It’s lukewarm most of the time. Which indicates that you’ve been leaving the bed sometime during the night instead of early morning.”

He really hated that brain of hers sometimes. “The problem being? Last I checked I was a free man. Are you saying I’m not allowed to leave your bed before a certain time?” He looked up at her, issuing a challenge.

She sighed heavily, squatting down so she could be face-to-face with him. “Now you’re just being difficult. You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Her arms uncrossed so she could lay a hand on top of his. “You’re not getting sick, are you?” she asked curiously.

“Of course not, woman.” He turned his hand so hers fell off, but that didn’t discourage her.

She took advantage of his now up-turned hand. Her fingers lacing with his as she stared into blackness, noticing that he actually had bags under his eyes. “Then what? I checked the GR, so I know you weren’t training all day, and to be perfectly honest; you look like shit, Vegeta.”

He squeezed her hand at her comment. “Tch. I’m fine. I just didn’t feel like using the GR today,” he half-lied. “Now can I eat?”

“I’m not stopping you from eating.” She stood up and pulled the chair beside her out to sit in it. Her hand still held his, and he still made no attempt to eat. “See, there is something wrong with you!”

His eyes narrowed. “THERE IS NOTHING FUCKING WRONG WITH ME! Now would you please leave me the fuck alone?!”

She jumped in her seat at his harsh tone, her hand finally letting go of his. It had been a long while since he‘d used that tone with her. “Fine! I’m only trying to help, but you are obviously too damn stubborn to care! And don’t even think about crawling back into my bed tonight or ever!” She stood from her seat, almost knocking it to the floor.

“Bulma,” he started, his voice still rough and warning.

“No! You listen here, I’ve put up with your shit for far too long! I’ve told you I love you, that I care about you. Yet you still can’t talk to me.” She sighed. She needed to calm down before her mother or father heard her yelling. Of course, they had probably already heard Vegeta shouting. “I can tell something’s bothering you, Vegeta, but if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine. But don’t just sit there and tell me it’s nothing.” She stood there, staring at him as he stared at her.

“I’m absolutely fine, woman,” he told her in a strong, steady voice. Perhaps it was best if he stayed away from her for now. Things were starting to getting a little more complicated each day, and this argument was only further proof. “I won’t come near you or your room. So just leave me alone.”

“If that’s what you want.” Her arms were now back to being crossed against her breast. “Fine with me.” She gave him one last look before throwing him a glare and storming out.

All week it was throwing glares as they passed each other or snubbing the other at the dinner table. Trunks seemed unaffected--as usual--by his parents childish and standoffish behavior, but it didn’t get past Mr. and Mrs. Briefs. Her father knew better than to bring it up, but Mrs. Briefs didn’t.

“Bulma, sweetie, are you and Vegeta fighting?”

Luckily Vegeta was an expert at finishing off his food in seconds and had left the dinner table as quickly as he had arrived. So, he wasn’t around to be caught up in the embarrassing questioning her mother had lined up.

“We just had a disagreement.”

“Well isn’t it about time you two make up? It’s been a whole week now, hasn’t it? I don’t know how you two are able to sleep in the same bed while being mad at each other.”

Dr. Briefs about choked on his food while Bulma turned beet red. “He’s taken one of the guest rooms,” she told her mother before glancing over at her father. It wasn’t like it was a big secret that her and Vegeta shared a room nowadays, but for her parents to know and be okay with it!

Dr. Briefs stood after swallowing his bite. “Thank you for a lovely dinner, honey.” He leaned over to kiss his wife. “But there’s a project I must be getting back to.”

Bulma almost sighed in relief that her father was kind enough to leave.

“But, dear, you haven’t finished your food,” her mother said, a little concerned.

“Just wrap it up, and I’ll finish it later,” Dr. Briefs offered with a smile.

Bulma watched the exchange between her parents, wishing it would be that easy with Vegeta. Why did he constantly have to hide things and be so mistrusting, even after all the things she’d done for him? It wasn’t like she was asking him to spill his guts to her about his past. She just wanted him to be a bit more open about what he was thinking or what was bothering him. If it was something about her, then at least she could try to compromise with him. She sighed--something she’d been doing a lot of lately.

Another, less hostile, week went by. She barely saw Vegeta, and he’d even stopped eating dinner with her family. She should be happy that he was at least still training and eating, but she wasn’t. When she did catch a glimpse of him, he still looked worn, like he still wasn’t sleeping. Of course, the last time she’d actually seen him had been a few days ago, so her worrying only intensified.

Her mother still brought up Vegeta around her as if it was just a “silly little argument that the two would have lots of fun making up when it was over.” Bulma rolled her eyes. Her mother was the most delusional person she knew!

Sure she felt the loss of not having Vegeta in her bed, but it wasn’t any different than when he’d take off for a week to train out in the wilderness, or when he’d gone into space for those 3 months. Yet, it was different because he had been here. Sleeping in some unknown guest room that she had yet to find. Walking around in his usual attire of a black tank top and shorts. Still ignoring her like she was plague.

Perhaps she had been a little too harsh on him, but damn it she deserved more than he was giving! Right? Was she pushing for just a little too much from an ex genocidal, mass murderer? She didn’t think so, and so she wouldn’t be the one to apologize or try to make up with him. It was his turn to come to her. She wasn’t expecting an apology, nothing of the sort. She wasn’t even sure if Vegeta knew how to apologize.

She shook her head, refocusing on the project at hand--finding just where exactly Vegeta was hiding. She hadn’t seen him for a few days, so she was pretty sure he had taken off this time. She also knew that trying to find the room he occupied would be harder than she thought because he was so impersonal about his surroundings. He had always kept his living spaces neat and tidy, a feat she was still working on. Vegeta had--surprisingly--never complained about the way she kept her room, but she was trying to keep it tidier since he’d started sharing it with her.

She opened the next door, looking at the neatly made bed before heading over to the dresser. The only thing that would give him away was the dresser. She had noticed that he wasn’t coming to the room to get clothes, so she’d deduced that he’d come in some time while she was asleep or working and taken what he needed. So that had become her lead: find Vegeta’s clothes, find out where he was at least staying and how he was so easily avoiding her.

Damn! Empty again! She had searched just about every damn room in Capsule! She slammed the drawer shut with a growl. Looked like it was time to put her thinking cap on again. Where hadn’t she checked? Surely there had to be another wing she hadn’t checked. She headed out of the room, and back to the living area where she’d left Trunks and her mother. “I’ll just have to try again tomorrow,” she told herself.

Vegeta crashed on the small bed, face down. His face burying into the pillow as he closed his eyes out of pure exhaustion. He’d been up for the past three days doing nothing but training. Hell, he’d hardly even eaten, just enough to sustain his energy for fighting. If Bulma found out, he was sure she would chew into him about taking better care of himself. He turned his head to the right, and lifted his right arm to prop his head up a little. ‘Bulma could kiss his ass’ was the last thing that ran through his mind before the exhaustion finally set in.

“Nappa! Raditz! That’s enough, let’s go,” he commanded the only loyal subjects he had left to his name.

“But, boss,” Nappa started to complain.

“Shut it, Nappa,” he growled, growing tired of the constant whining of his elite soldier. At least Raditz had the sense to shut up the first time he was told. “We must report back to Frieza, less you want to incur his wrath. I’m done saving your hide with mine, although I’m sure Frieza enjoys whipping me more than he does you.” Vegeta felt his tail twitch in the air and the fur hackle at his private thought. ‘He enjoys it in more ways than one, I’m sure.’

“Yes, sir,” Nappa responded, standing straighter and towering even further above his captain, the last Prince of Saiyans.

Raditz had already climbed into his pod, ready to go. “Good, then let’s get going,” Vegeta told Nappa, and directing a look at Raditz.

Raditz nodded and closed the hatch to his pod before it shot off the ground, soon followed by Nappa’s. Vegeta stood his ground, watching the burning cities a few yards from where he stood. Dead bodies littered the ground but a few inches from his feet. They had managed to purge the world in 3 days, without even having to transform into the Oozaru.

He smirked as he climbed into his pod, finally, setting his coordinates for the planet that Frieza was currently occupying before he got bored of it. It didn’t take but a few hours to land at the planet, and as he climbed out of his pod he saw Nappa and Raditz standing near the entrance. Vegeta walked over to his subordinates, not bothering to look up at their faces. “Let’s get this over with.”

The two taller men flanked behind their prince as they headed towards Frieza’s meeting room. Upon approaching the room, they were stopped by Zarbon--Frieza’s right-hand man and self-proclaimed pretty-boy.

“We wish to see Frieza,” Vegeta spoke to the pale green skinned alien.

“What for, monkey?” the man’s voice condescending.

“We purged the planet assigned to us in only 3 days.”

“Only 3 three days? I suppose that is quite an amazing job for you.”

Vegeta growled, stepping closer to the man and looking up. “And how many planets have you purged, pretty-boy?”

Zarbon shifted his position of leaning against the wall to standing straight and looking down at the smaller man.

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve got the fancy life, sitting pretty next to Frieza like a good little pet,” Vegeta snarled before smirking.

Zarbon grabbed hold of Vegeta by the top of his chest armor, raising him up. The prince’s flunkies growled and stepped closer, but with one look from the green man they backed down. “That may be true, filthy monkey,” Zarbon spoke softly, but his eyes held the venom his voice didn’t. “But I’m still more powerful.”

Vegeta struggled against the hold he was in, knowing it would do him no good. That was until suddenly he pushed against the other man’s chest, and Zarbon flew back against the wall after releasing his grip on the Saiyan’s armor.

Vegeta sat up, eyes wide. ‘That’s not how it happened’ his mind supplied before hearing a moan. He growled. Someone had found his lair, but how? He was pretty sure no one had been in this part of the building for quite some time.

“What the hell, Vegeta?!” a feminine voice cried out.

“Bulma?” he asked confused, amazed, and annoyed. He looked over to her, seeing her back against the wall and her hands rubbing her head.

“Who else would it be?” she asked sarcastically, still rubbing the back of her head. Her head had bounced back against the wall when she’d been thrown off Vegeta.

She apparently wasn’t hurt too badly if she was trying to pick a fight. “How the fuck should I know. Maybe one of your random stupid-ass employees.”

“What are you doing all the way out here?” she suddenly asked, ceasing the rubbing of her head.

“Me? What about you?”

“Stop turning everything around me!” She pushed herself up the wall. She could barely see anything in the darkened room--no wonder he liked it here so much--the only light coming from the open door where the hallway light shone in. “How did you even find this place?”

“Same way you probably did.” There, he hadn’t turned her question into another.

She growled, her hands balling into fists and pounding against the wall she was leaning on. “I found this place looking for you! So I highly doubt your logic.”

Vegeta sighed, pulling his knees up and relaxing his arms atop them. “Why were you looking for me? I thought you said you were done with me.”

“I never said that.” She pushed away from the wall, moving slowly toward the bed to sit on the edge. “Besides, you’re the one that told me to leave you alone.” She looked over at him.

He smirked. “Yet here you are, tracking me down.”

“It’s the same game we always play, isn’t it?” she asked, a little downcast. “You leave, I chase after you like some idiot. I don’t even know why I do it.”

“Because you are a fool. Just like all the other loyal followers I had in my life.” His most recent memory coming back to him thanks to her words. “I’m not worth chasing after, you realize at least that much, don’t you?”

She gave a slight nod. “But, yet, you are.”

He closed his eyes for a second, not understanding what was so important about him to her. He was nothing but an asshole, he didn’t help with Trunks, he scared all of her “friends” away. He knew it wasn’t because he intimidated her, and she wasn’t scared that if she left him he would retaliate. “For what?” the words left his mouth before he could even begin to stop them from forming.

Bulma looked a bit surprised, but the scowl that etched his features gave him away--he hadn’t meant to ask. “For the simple fact that you’re interesting,” she answered anyway to see what would happen.

“So you look at me like I’m some damn project or something?” he asked, a bit offended.

She giggled. “Perhaps.” She heard the growl low in his throat. “You challenge me, Vegeta. Something Yamcha never had the balls to do,” she muttered the last part mainly for herself, but she was pretty sure Vegeta had picked it up. “I cherish our little moments like this, where I actually get to talk to you and be with you.”

“You talk,” he corrected her.

“See. You’re such an asshole.” She smiled, leaning back against his up stretched knees. “So what’s been bothering you? And why the hell did you throw me across the room?” she berated.

“It wasn’t you.”

“It sure as hell was me! Remember just a few minutes ago?!”

“No, in my dream. It wasn’t you I was trying to push away.”

“You dream?” she asked, suddenly intrigued. Leave it to her to be more interested in the science of things instead of why she had been violently pushed away.

Vegeta could see the wheels turning in her mind. Her eyes getting a bit wider and brighter with curiosity. “Not like you human’s do.” Her eyes began sparkling with wonder. He growled. “I will not be experimented on,” he told her when she still continued to look at him. There was no way she was getting anywhere near his mind!

She blinked. “Too bad Son-kun isn’t with us anymore. I’m sure I could’ve coaxed him over here with some food.”

Vegeta snorted. “That idiot would probably do anything you asked of him for a handful food.”

Bulma smiled slightly. “So, about this dreaming?”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “I suppose they’re more like memories. Perhaps Kakarot was different since he grew up here on Earth and had a different life than just fighting,” Vegeta answered after thinking for a second.

Bulma gave a slight nod at his answer. “So what were you reliving? Who were you fighting?” Her mind was curious and couldn’t stop the questions.

His eyes fixed on hers, evaluating her. “Zarbon.”

“You mean that big ugly green freak?”

“Hn. If I remember correctly somebody was cheering that ‘big ugly green freak’ on and telling him to beat my ass into the ground.”

Bulma looked sheepish for a second before sitting up and turning to sit on her knees so she could face him fully.

Vegeta held up a hand to stop her ranting before she even began. “I already know.”

Bulma relaxed and sat back on her haunches. “So will you come back to our bed now?”

He shrugged. “Seeing as how you found my hiding place. I suppose if I want peace I’ll have to find another room.” He smirked as she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, much like his usual stance.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me.” Her scowl turning into a playful smile.

He grabbed hold of her crossed arms, and pulled her to him. His lips brushing against her ear. “I missed your body, does that count?”

She pulled back to look at his face. “Nope,” she answered, seeing his smirk fade only slightly. “You have to say you missed me, all of me.”

He grunted, his hands resting on her shoulder blades. “I missed your annoying prattle, you interrupting my training, and you tossing and turning in bed. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

It may have been dark in the room, but she could still see the faint dusting of red on his cheeks as he spoke. She nodded her head in answer to his question before leaning over to kiss his lips. “I missed you, too.”