Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ An Unexpected Gift of Love ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z or its characters! And I assure you, that I make absolutely no profit off of my literary or artistic works they are featured in.

An Unexpected Gift of Love

Rain pelted heavily against the windows of the warm, dark nursery. The young woman sat in the rocking chair, gently rocking back and forth as she hummed to the infant in her arms. The little boy watched his mother with sleepy eyes; frequently blinking those naturally scowling, baby blues, the exact same hue as the misted pair that stared back at him, struggling to remain awake. At last the combination of a full belly, the warmth and comfort of his dam's arms, as well as the soft lullaby of the strong, rhythmic heartbeat under his ear, won out over the little tyke. With one last, toothless yawn, the infant curled itself into his mother's bosom and was fast asleep.

Bulma smiled gently down at her little son, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. He was such a little angel, her little prince. Funny how she could consider this innocent babe, who slept so peacefully in her arms, either of those things with the knowledge of who his sire was. A prince, Trunks was indeed; descended as he was from the legendary kings of the Saiyan race. And yet to think of the son of the Saiyan no Ouji as anything other than demonic, just seemed too ridiculous to believe.

Here he was though, laying loosely swaddled in a soft blanket against his mother's life-sustaining breasts. The infant didn't stir, even as his guardian rose from the rocker and, as softly as possible, walked to the crib on the other side of the room. Trunks whimpered, almost inaudibly as he was gently placed back into his bed; unconsciously protesting his removal from Bulma's protective embrace.

The young, blue haired woman traced one, impossibly soft and delicate cheek lovingly with a single gentle finger. Even if his father was a selfish bastard, who'd deserted her immediately after the passionate night that had seen the conception of this little creature, their son would always be her pride and joy. Bulma glanced at the calender on the wall. February 14th. Valentine's Day. She smiled sadly and leaned down to place a tender kiss on her sleeping, two month old son's forehead. A lone tear finally escaped and rolled down and off her chin, landing on the infant's cheek, remarkably not waking him.

"Happy Birthday, Trunks! You were conceived one year ago today." she whispered into the downy lavender hair adorning the infant's head. 'If only your daddy was here.' With that one last thought, Bulma slipped back to her bedroom.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The menacing black figure lurked through the endless dark, deserted halls. Tiny rivulets ran down the broken and smudged white armor; the muscular chest no longer properly concealed by it nor the soaked royal blue body suit underneath. The plush carpet was left damp as he walked past, even though he was barefoot. He knew he was already going to hear enough hell; he didn't feel like risking his sensitive hearing to any unnecessary abuse because he wore muddy boots inside.

A door suddenly softly creaked open farther down the corridor. Piercing onyx eyes snapped to attention to identify the intruder. When he realized who it was, a smirk attempted to play across his sharp, angular features. Bulma......

The silly onna didn't even realize that she wasn't alone in the unlit hallway. Bulma quietly shut the door she just came through, tucking her robe tighter around her before proceeding farther down the hall, away from her unnoticed spectator. She walked only a short ways, before entering her bedroom.

'Perfect!' the intruder thought, heading for the room his mate had just entered . But suddenly he stopped. Vegeta glanced suspiciously at the door next to him. Someone was in there, in the room Bulma had just exited. A low growl rumbled up from the Saiyan's throat, as he quickly assessed the unfamiliar ki.

It was as strong as that scar-faced human's, and Vegeta would have simply barged into the room to confront his mate's ex, except something stopped him. This strange ki didn't feel like that weakling's, and yet it was familiar too. Also the steady evenness of it, showed that the person was in a deep sleep. Not really knowing what to think and preferring to surprise the intruder, Vegeta silently opened the door.

Inside there was a collection of strange furniture. A compact dresser that stood about waist high, with a short railing around its top's perimeter; an odd chair that rested back at an angle on two smooth arcs beneath the legs; and another taller chest of drawers. But Vegeta ignored all of these/ His attention was drawn to the cage like bed, where the ki was emanating from. Perplexed, the Saiyan Prince stepped into the room. The insane bed was far too small to hold an adult human...or....

Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks, his heart suddenly feeling as though it had dropped to his feet like a stone.

'Or..a ... Saiyan,' he at last reluctantly completed his thought. He peered through the bars of the bed, and with his sensitive eyes, the Saiyan no Ouji could see a small form covered with a soft blanket; a tiny fist laying curled near the infant's head, which he could only see the back of. His heart sank even more as he realized why the strange ki felt familiar. It was a blend of his and Bulma's. Finally, Vegeta stepped over to the crib and peered down for the first time at his child.

The infant slept peacefully on its back, its face turned away from Vegeta. It wore a pair of yellow pajamas and was covered with a blanket so small, he guessed they were specifically made for such a purpose. Fine lavender hair crowned his heir, causing Vegeta to emit a low growl at such an insult to the royal bloodline. The baby immediately awoke upon hearing it, at last turning to face the new early morning visitor, blinking repeatedly.

Blue met black for the first in a year; only this time it was father and son, instead of two desperately lonely lovers. Vegeta was stunned at how much his son resembled him. If only his coloring and hair matched his own, he could be a living replica of himself as an infant.

Father and son stared at each other, until suddenly the baby raised one tiny hand out to this new dark stranger. The Saiyan no Ouji blinked, but didn't do anything, refusing to allow himself such a weakness. His son scowled with eerie familiarness, and raised both arms up to him. When he still wouldn't pick him up, the baby let out an angry squeal, making Vegeta wince. At last with great reluctance, the proud Saiyan prince allowed his son to grasp one already gloveless, powerful finger.

Eagerly, his son wrapped his little fist around it, squeezing the finger slightly as he tried to grasp it fully. Vegeta smirked. Even for a hybrid preemy, his son already had great potential. He knew his son was born premature. Saiyans had a 13 month gestation period, to allow the infant more time to develop in its mothers womb; a vital head start in a warrior race. It really wasn't that long of a time for a species that also easily lived 200 years and heavily guarded its females. With a human for a mother, whose gestation period was shorter, his son was automatically born premature. Judging from the looks of him, Vegeta guessed that the infant was almost two months. He shook his head. 'Definitely premature. Even for a hybrid.' the Saiyan Prince thought, looking down at his tiny heir who was still playing with the giant finger in his miniature fist.

"Get away from my son!" a woman's furious voice suddenly hissed from behind him, immediately followed by a loud click. Vegeta smirked.

"You know if you fire that pathetic weapon, it will just bounce off of me. I'm sure you're not willing to risk OUR brat's life, are you?" he sneered, slowly turning towards his shocked mate.. Bulma stood there in her silk nightie with her robe hanging open. She trembled as slowly she lowered the .45 caliber revolver that had been leveled at his head.

"Vegeta....." she whispered, automatically uncocking the gun. "What are you doing here, you bastard?" she hissed dangerously soft, glaring at her lover; the revolver still grasped tightly in her hand at her side. Vegeta smirked at her, then turned back to watching his son, who was still fascinated with his father's powerful index finger.

"The Saiyan no Ouji doesn't have to answer any sill question s from some weak, ugly, human wench," he told her, knowing it would make the proud, fiery woman's blood boil.

"You heartless son of a bitch! I give you my heart and my virginity, and what do you do? Leave in the middle of the damn night for Kami knows where, with no note or anything. You disappear for an entire year! And when you FINALLY do show up, the only thing you can tell the mother of your child is a bunch of insults! Well you know what Vegeta? We don't need you! Trunks and I can make it quite well by ourselves! Go crawl back into the hole you came out of! You dick weed(1)!" Enraged Bulma raised the gun again, before she could even think about shooting however, Vegeta immediately appeared in front of her. One hand grabbed the barrel of the revolver, squeezing and bending it back so that it could never be fired again. The other hand snatched a old of Bulma's jaw, luckily not breaking it. The two proud lovers glared at each other for many long minutes, the only sound the rain continuing to strike the window panes.

In those brilliant, snapping eyes, that even a human could tell were blue in the dark, Vegeta could see a torrent of conflicting emotions. Anger, pain, betrayal, need, devotion, and something else that he couldn't identify. She was so easy to read. Try as she might, Bulma could never conceal her feelings. Not like him. And yet his mate seemed to be able to read him as easily as he read her. She had learned to identify his moods and emotions, better that Vegeta could himself. Like right now, she probably knew, because the Saiyan Prince sure didn't know.

They continued to stand there like that. Vegeta grasping Bulma's jaw securely, but not too painfully; both holding one end of twisted, useless gun. They stared into each other's eyes. One set as black as deep space, the other bluer than the ocean's depths; both endless in their uncharted depths.

"You should really learn to control your temper, Onna." Vegeta whispered softly to her lips, so close that they were brushing.

"Shut up, baka. You don't have any room to talk. Just hurry up and kiss me, you jerk," she whispered back. Vegeta complied and for the first time in a year their lips met. The kiss was tender and kind of timid, almost like neither had ever kissed that way before. Vegeta's grip loosened on Bulma's jaw until he was gently cupping her cheek. The ruined gun fell to the carpet, those free hands now used to draw the reunited lovers closer. At last, Vegeta pulled reluctantly away.

"No one orders the Saiyan no Ouji around. Especially a weak, ugly, human wench like you, Bulma," he repeated softly to his mate's soft lips. Bulma smirked.

"I think I just did, Veggie-chan," she told him, tracing his strong jaw line, still smirking.. Vegeta growled.

"You're going to pay for that one, Onna!" he promised, smirking in anticipation.

"Bring it on, sweet Prince.... in the bedroom. I believe your *heir* needs his beauty rest," she whispered, smiling as her infant son yawned and closed his eyes once more. Vegeta watched silently as well, then looked at the woman in his arms.

"Enough of the brat, Onna! I'm horny and haven't gotten any in a year; it's time you make that up to me!" he said, tossing her lean body over his shoulder.

"ME! Make it up to YOU! Why you bastard!!!" Bulma spluttered, banging her fists vainly against his armored back, continuing to growl obscenities at him. Vegeta simply smirked as he calmly shut the door to the nursery and proceeded at last for his original destination. Bulma's room.......













The End? or To Be Continued? (Its up to you!)

Author's Notes: This was my first little attempt at a one shot, a B/V fic, and a Valentine's Day fic that's a few days too late! Well, what'd you think? Good, bad? Was Vegeta OOC? If I get enough reviews, there will be a LEMONY SEQUEL! And please read my other story, Anything's Possible! Thanks!

Want to be on my mailing list? Just leave your email address with your review or email me directly at dbzchickstwh@hotmail.com !

(1) - insult used by Kaioshin-sama.(Shin's grandfather from 15 generations back! Not Shin!), when Goku *tested* his strength by blasting a small ki ball in his face! Quite funny! Especially when Goku makes a deal with the old man two minutes later! I'm not going to ruin it for anybody who doesn't know what I'm talking about, but trust me! Its hilarious! ^_^