Son Goku was worried. He was worried bad.

Almost two years had past since Future Trunks had come from the future to warn them about the arrival of the androids, and told Goku about his heritage: That he was a hybrid, the half-saiyan, half-earthling son of Bulma and Vegeta as unlikely as it might sound.

Trunks had convinced Goku not to tell his to-be parents that they would get together, but after all this time, as far as Goku could tell there was absolutely no sign of Bulma and Vegeta getting together. Not even the tiniest.

And so Goku sat there at the breakfast table with Gohan gulping down his ten eggs, thirty pancakes, and eight pieces of toast on one side, and Chi Chi eating her own moderate portion on the other.

What if Trunks was never born? Would they all forget that the androids were coming? Would the boy from the future simply disappear? Or would something else happen?

What could he do to stop any of that happening? Vegeta and Bulma from what he heard avoided each other every chance they got. Was there anyway to get them together?

"Tousan, you have hardly touched your food," Gohan said. That wasn't like his father to skip any sort of meal.

"Are feeling okay?" Chi Chi asked, pressing her hand onto Goku's forehead.

That was it FOOD, he realised. He remembered talking to Bulma and her mentioning that ever since Vegeta had moved into Capsule Corp., that large amounts of food had been disappearing from the refrigerator in the middle of the night. It hadn't taken her long to catch the Prince of Saiyans in the act.

If anything would get Vegeta to be in the same place as Bulma without needing to drag him halfway around the planet, food would. Getting Bulma there would be the easy part in comparison.

"Chi Chi, could we have a party?" he said all of a sudden.

"Sorry Goku, but I am trying to find Gohan a new tutor," she answered.

"But Kaasan," begged Gohan, giving his mother a puppy-dog look, "You remember what happened with the last one." The last tutor of Gohan's hadn't really worked out, especially the part about Gohan crushing his hand (by accident) and Chi Chi chasing the tutor out of the house after he had made fun of Goku.

"Well… that won't happen again," Chi Chi stated firmly. "Sorry Goku."

Goku sighed, then an idea sprung in his head. HE could cook the meal.

Feel exhilarated, he jumped to his feet and headed out of the kitchen and headed for the door. He could hardly wait until he got started. He knew a great apple tree, the perfect fishing pond, the best places for berries, the ultimate spot for…

"Uh Tousan," said Gohan eyeing his father's food with an obvious longing, "are you going to eat that?"

Well, maybe after some breakfast.


Four hours later.

"Bulma deary," chimed a voice.

Bulma looked from the project she was working on to see her mother standing at the door of her lab.

"Yes?" she said.

"I just got a call from that big muscular hunk of a friend of yours," chirped Mrs. Briefs, "he says he is having a party at his house and you and Vegeta are invited."

Hmm… the words 'muscular hunk' meant that Master Roshi was out of the picture and 'big' meant it couldn't be Krillin or Choutzu, and her mother usually added the words 'green elf' if it were Kami or Piccolo. Bulma doubted that Yamcha or Tien would invite Vegeta anywhere let alone to their houses. She wasn't even sure if Tien had a home, let alone a house. So that left one person.

"So when does Goku want us over there?" she asked.

"Oh, any time now. The sooner the better," Mrs. Briefs replied cheerfully.

"Thanks," Bulma said and smiling gave her mother a nod who left singing a tune to herself.

Bulma examined the metallic components on her desk, and leaning back in her chair, stretched letting a big yawn out. A party would do her good. For the past three days she had been trying to figure out how to capsulise a space ship and it hadn't been going so well. She couldn't find a way to stabilise the ship's Central Gamma Particle Matrix so that the monohydroxide levels in the processors would stay at a manageable level.

She got up and taking a deep breathe to prepare herself, headed for the Demon's Lair aka. Vegeta's Gravity Room. Even as she got outside in the bright sun, and the fresh grass, she could hear the sounds of training. The grunts, groans, and shouts of the hell beast himself as he exerted himself to who knows what type of torture. At least the others had a bit of common sense when they trained.

She walked over to the Gravity Room's door and pounded on the intercom nearby.

"Hey Vegeta," she shouted, "get your sorry ass out here!"

The only reply was a growl.

"You better get out here buster!"

Another growl.

"You really like using this room right?" Her voice suddenly changed into a honey like tone.

No anwer.

"Right?" said Bulma, smirking to herself. This was one upside to the day.

"If you think that you can threaten to take away my gravity room, woman, think again," came a very disgruntle voice from the other end of the comm.

"Oh, I don't need to take it away, I just need to wait until you break it again and refuse to fix it." Bulma could hardly contain her laughter.

There was one more growl and the gravity room's door finally opened. Out came a Vegeta who looked ready to glare ki blasts.

"What do you want, woman?" he grumbled.

"Firstly, my name is Bulma, B-U-L-M-A, not woman, and secondly, Goku has invited us to a party," she retorted right back.

"I could care less about anything that involves Kakarot, woman, so leave me alone," said Vegeta and he started back into the gravity room.

"His name is Goku, and you should feel thankful that he doesn't kick your butt off this planet considering you tried to kill him, his friends and his son." Had he emphasised saying woman that time?

"His name is Kakarot and the last time I tried to kill him, his brat and his little friends was business, next time it will be pleasure and I won't try."

"Yeah, right," said Bulma, and snorted. "Either way, if you want to use your precious gravity room, you'll come and you'll be polite."

"This better be worth my time, woman."

"The name is BULMA!"