The spaceship's door hissed open and bright golden sunlight poured in. Kale stepped out first, her boots sinking into soft green grass that definitely hadn't been there a week ago. She blinked hard, rubbed her eyes, then looked again.
Planet Sadala was alive again.
Tall buildings sparkled in the distance. Saiyans flew overhead laughing and shouting. Children chased each other through the streets. Markets were open. Smoke rose from food stalls.
"How…?" Kale whispered, turning in a slow circle. "We are back home. How?"
Caulifla jumped down beside her, mouth hanging open. "No way. No freaking way."
Cabba landed lightly next to them, eyes wide. "The cities… they're all rebuilt. Everyone's alive again."
Piccolo stepped out last, holding the stump of his left arm. The wound still smoked a little and refused to grow back. He stared at the horizon, then up at the clear blue sky. "Arghh…" he groaned, pushing himself fully upright. "This has to be Lord Champa's doing. That fat cat and his angel attendant must have made a wish with the Super Dragon Balls, or she must have revised time itself. Only something that big could bring a whole planet back from nothing."
Caulifla spun around. "Okay, cool, planet's back, awesome, but where's Goku? I don't see that idiot anywhere." She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled toward the sky, "Hey, Kakarot! You alive up there or what?"
Cabba smiled softly and looked up too. "My master's friend is alright. I'm certain of it."
Piccolo crossed his arms (well, one arm and one stump) and nodded once. "Yeah. Goku's fine. And I can't leave this planet without him, i don't even know my way back to our own universe."
Kale clasped her hands together in front of her chest and whispered so quietly no one heard, "Goku… please be safe."
On earth the sun was setting orange and pink over Capsule Corporation.
The front door slid open and Vegeta walked in, covered head to toe in sand and sweat. His hair was wilder than usual, his training suit torn in twenty places, and he smelled like he had been fighting in a desert for a week. Because he had.
"VEGETA!" Bulma's voice exploded from the living room like a bomb. "Where on Earth have you been?!"
Vegeta kicked off his boots. "Training. Obviously." He walked into the bright white living room. The air conditioner was blasting cold air, but he was still dripping sweat. "For days I tested my limits against Broly in the west desert. It was… perfect." His voice dropped to almost nothing. "Don't ever tell him I said that."
Bulma stood up from her desk, papers flying everywhere. Her night gown was revealing, hair in a messy bun, and her eyes were on fire. "So that's what's been causing the earthquakes! Every single day—BOOM! The ground shakes, my equipment falls off the table, my experiments are ruined! I was this close to a breakthrough on the new gravity ship engine, Vegeta! This close!"
Veins popped on her forehead. Her fists clenched so hard her knuckles went white.
Vegeta swallowed hard. "Erm… gulp." He started stepping backwards very slowly.
Bulma marched toward him like a very angry, very beautiful storm. "Let's all calm down now, Bulma," Vegeta said quickly, raising both hands in surrender. "Besides, you don't want to wake the boy, right? Trunks is finally asleep."
"Every time," Bulma hissed, still walking closer, "every single time I reach the final test—BOOM! The whole building shakes like the world is ending! Beakers break! Data lost! Months of work gone!"
She was getting closer.
"I'm sorry, Bulma," Vegeta said, sweat pouring down his face even though the room was freezing. His back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to run.
"Argh," he squeaked out loud.
Bulma stopped inches away. The lights made her blue eyes shine like ice. "Ve… ge… ta…" she said, low and dangerous.
He closed his eyes. "She's going to kill me this time. Gods, anyone, help me."
Then, instead of punching him, Bulma placed her right hand gently on his chest. She slid it slowly over the torn training suit, feeling the hard muscle underneath. Vegeta opened one eye.
Bulma leaned in and kissed him—soft, warm, and a little hungry. His lips were dry and tasted like sand, but she didn't care. Vegeta's hands found her waist and pulled her closer on instinct. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like the whole world stopped shaking.
When she pulled back, her lips were wet and a little dusty. She smiled. "I missed you, you big idiot."
Vegeta's proud face turned bright red. "I… missed you too."
Bulma's fingers moved to the zipper of his blue training suit. "Let me help you take this off. You're filthy."
"Hey, woman!" Vegeta stepped back, flustered. "Let me take a bath first! I stink!"
Bulma's eyes traveled down and stopped at the front of his pants. Even through the thick fabric it was obvious he was already hard as steel, veins standing out, straining against the cloth. She smirked. "Ohhh. You really did miss me."
"Let me take my bath first, woman!" Vegeta shouted, face now the color of a tomato. He bolted for the bathroom, almost tripping over his own feet.
BAM! The bathroom door slammed shut.
Bulma stood there for two seconds.
Then a slow, wicked smile spread across her face. "Hehe…"
She reached down and slipped her silk nightgown up and over her head in one smooth motion. It fell to the floor. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her skin looked soft and perfect under the bright white lights. Her breasts were full and round, nipples already hard from the cold air and from wanting him. She turned, her ass bouncing a little as she walked—no, almost danced—toward the bathroom door.
Inside the bathroom, Vegeta had just turned the shower on hot. Steam started filling the room. He yanked off what was left of his clothes and stepped under the water, letting it wash away days of sand and dried blood. He closed his eyes and sighed.
The door opened quietly.
Vegeta froze.
Bulma stepped in, completely naked, skin glowing in the warm light. Water droplets already started collecting on her shoulders and running down between her breasts. She shut the door behind her with a soft click and locked it.
Vegeta stared, mouth open. Water poured over his head and down his muscled chest, over the deep lines of his abs, lower.
Bulma walked straight to him, hips swaying. "You're not showering alone, Vegeta."
He tried to say something proud, something princely, but all that came out was a weak, "Woman… you…"
She pressed her body against his under the hot water. Her breasts pushed soft and warm against his chest. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him again—this time deep and slow, tongues sliding together. Vegeta groaned into her mouth. His hands finally moved, grabbing her hips hard, fingers digging in.
Bulma laughed softly against his lips. "Missed me that much, huh?"
"Shut up," he growled, but there was no anger in it. He kissed her harder, lifting her a little so her feet barely touched the wet tiles. Water ran down both of them, making their skin slick and shining.
She reached down between them and wrapped her hand around him. He was burning hot and rock hard in her grip. Vegeta hissed through his teeth.
"Bulma…" he warned, voice rough.
She just smiled and stroked him slowly, watching his face. "I haven't seen you in days, Vegeta. You owe me."
He grabbed her wrist, stopping her, eyes dark and dangerous. Then, in one quick move, he spun her around and pressed her gently against the shower wall. Bulma gasped, palms flat on the cool tile, water pouring over her back and down her legs.
Vegeta leaned in, lips against her ear. "You want to play, woman? Fine."
His hands slid up her wet sides, cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until she moaned. Then one hand kept going, tangling in her wet blue hair, pulling just hard enough to make her arch her back. His other hand moved lower, between her thighs.
Bulma bit her lip, eyes half-closed, breathing fast. "Yes… just like that…"
Outside the bathroom, the house was quiet. Trunks slept peacefully in his room. The earthquakes had finally stopped.