Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Another Lifetime ❯ Farewell to the Past and Epilogue ( Chapter 7 )

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

Another Lifetime

By QueenSaiyajin

queensaiyajin@aol.com

Chapter Seven

Farewell to the Past

He collapsed into her arms, and she held him tightly, letting his emotions flow freely as he held onto her for dear life. Would she ever have imagined him capable of such feeling, such love and anguish intertwined? He had loved her desperately in that other time, of that there was no doubt. But while it soothed the dull ache that had become a permanent fixture in her heart to realize what she had meant to him, it filled her with sorrow to know that she had never, and would never, know this part of him. The woman on the screen was her, and yet was a stranger, who had experienced a lifetime with him that she had not. She could not help but resent the Bulma who was Vegeta's princess. It was a title, and a joy, that would never be hers.

You have always been my Princess, he whispered suddenly in her mind, as he consciously removed the barrier that he had erected between them. His emotion seemed to flow over her being with such warmth that she felt she would melt in his essence. Was it his words or his sudden willingness to speak through their bond that took her breath away so completely? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that she would die if he withdrew from her again. She couldn't survive knowing the full extent of what fate had robbed her of by taking him away so soon.

For what seemed a glorious eternity he rested his head on her shoulders, holding her as tightly as possible without crushing her. She ran her fingers through his hair, caressing him gently as his silent sobs ceased, replaced by the soft breath against her neck. His lips left a trail of light kisses on her skin as they slowly made their way to hers. Then he was kissing her, gingerly at first, then almost desperately as if it were…

Good bye?!?! The thought came to her and terrified her so that she pulled away to look in his eyes. “No!” she protested in horror, her cries frantic. “You can't go!”

She could see her own agony reflected in his eyes as he took her face in his hands. “I can't let her die alone,” he declared in a hushed whisper.

“And I can't lose you!” she wept. “Not again! Vegeta, I swear to you I did everything possible to find a cure! But there is none! I—“

“I know,” he assured her. He knew this had been her future self's plan, and not hers.

“Then why go? You can't save her!”

Vegeta breathed deeply. “No. But we've spent a lifetime together. She will not leave this world without me.”

His resolve petrified her. For she knew now with absolute clarity what he planned to do.

He would die with her.

“No,” she sobbed. “It's not fair—”

“Woman, please try to understand,” he began uselessly.

“All I understand is that you're leaving me and Trunks,” she told him tearfully. “That's not what she wants! I know, because it's not what I would want! I wouldn't want you to die with me if you could live another lifetime with me and our son! That's why I sent you here, Vegeta! To be with me again!”

The tortured conflict on his face was all that gave her hope. Hope that he could see her for who she was, the same woman who had loved him in that time, and had sent him here to fill the void that his untimely death had left in their lives.

“For over thirty years, she was my bonded mate,” he tried to explain.

“Thirty years that we never had!” she cried bitterly. “It's not fair, Vegeta! If you go I'll never have those thirty years with you. I'll never know the good or the bad, I'll never have those memories to comfort me in my old age. All I'll be left with is the frustration of knowing that we could have been together, that we could have had a little girl named Bra and the gods know what else! Please, Vegeta, don't leave me to wonder what could have been. If you truly love me, then let me have those thirty years!”

She was begging him, and she knew it. She hated herself for doing it almost as much as she hated him for bringing her to this point. But her pride was ripped to shreds, and the façade of strength that she had kept up since his death had collapsed. The thought of losing him again was driving her to the brink of madness, and the control she had maintained over her emotions had eroded completely. In panic she wondered just what she would do if he walked out of her life forever. How would she go on? How would she heal the wounds that he would leave behind? Would Trunks ever be the same? Would she?

Then let me give you those thirty years, he whispered as he crushed his lips against hers, in a kiss as tender as it was passionate. Open your mind to me, Bulma. Open your soul to mine…

Suddenly she was lost in him, as her entire being seemed to give itself to his will. Only the vague sense of his hands moving down to envelop her in his strong embrace reminded her of their physical presence. Her mind was in another place, seeing the past as if she were there, as if she were…Vegeta. The angry bitter man that he had been seemed to soften the moment he laid eyes on her on Namek. She could feel his heart as it had stirred when she'd invited him to stay with her. Could such beauty and kindness go hand in hand? He could never admit his feelings, never seem weak…and yet when he was with her he didn't care about the rest of the world. Slowly, she was becoming his world…

The child was a tiny miracle, and he prayed the brat would have his strength and her intelligence…but still, he could not show what they meant to him. If he let the world know, then his enemies would take them from him, just as Frieza had destroyed any one and anything that he'd cared for. But he would become a Super Saiyan, he would protect them, from the Androids, from Cell…

Images she did not understand flooded her mind. The young man from the future she knew now was Trunks, and a hideous green being who killed him with a single blast. Vegeta's pain shot through her heart, tears coming to her eyes as he went after their son's murderer with everything he had, the anger of a lifetime coming to the surface as he realized just how precious the boy was to him…

Years of training, becoming comfortable in his life with her…Kakarot was gone, there was no one to challenge him. Then Kakarot was back for a day, and the darkness within him took over once more, as a magician's spell made him the killer he once was. He'd run from her, from the complacency of their life, but in the end knew that she and the boy were all that mattered. Trunks, Bulma, I do this for you… She gasped as he made the ultimate sacrifice.

But the memories did not stop there. Another chance to destroy the monster his own rage had helped to hatch. Fusion with Kakarot?! Never! Buu's eaten everyone we love…even Bulma… The rage and grief welled within him. He would do anything to avenge her, to bring her back. And when all was said and done, he was redeemed, his debts to the Universe paid, his wounded pride healed as he realized that Kakarot was the best, but that it didn't really matter anymore because he had his woman and his son… By the time his little Princess was born, he was unafraid to show his love for them, at least in private, and the little blue-haired girl with Bulma's face and his stubbornness had him wrapped around her little finger, making it two women whom he could deny nothing…

How normal their lives were after then! The Earth was his home, and he would fight to protect it, to protect them…The Tuffle's possession had nearly torn them apart, and he was grateful to Kakarot for freeing him. It was even his idea to fuse with Kakarot to defeat the Shadow Dragons. Saving the world was more important than proving that he could do it alone. He was not alone. He had his Princess, and it was she who had helped him to ascend to Super Saiyan 4. He was not alone. She loved him. His children loved him.

But he had failed them. Watched them fall ill and die. And now Bulma was dying. He could not live without her. He would not. As much as he wished he could spend another lifetime with the woman and child who meant more to him than his own existence…

The images and emotions of a lifetime assaulted her at light speed, yet she saw and felt each moment as if she had lived it herself. Thirty years became part of her in a matter of moments, and her mind and body grew weak from the intense onslaught. The sensory overload was too much. She tried to gasp his name, but her energy was spent. Her last sensation was of her body being lifted into his arms. Then she fell into darkness, dreaming dreams of a life that she had lived in an instant.

She awoke to find herself on her bed, wrapped in his arms. She didn't want to admit that she was awake. To do so would end a magical moment she wished could last an eternity. But he had sensed the change in her ki, and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

She looked up at him without pulling out of his embrace.

“Are you all right?” he asked tenderly.

She wasn't sure what to answer. He had given her something…incredible. And yet knowing that he still intended to leave her brought tears to her eyes.

I have to, he told her silently, though she could see his own eyes grow moist. Had she not seen and felt all that he'd shown her, she would scream her head off at him for abandoning her yet again. But she knew why he had to. Just as much as she knew now that he didn't want to leave her any more than she wanted him to.

No, I don't, he said softly in her mind. But I have to be there with her. In the end.

“But you don't have to die with her,” she whispered tearfully.

He didn't respond, verbally or mentally. There was no answer he could give. But she didn't want to talk either. Instead, she settled back against his chest, as he gladly tightened his arms around her. Tomorrow decisions would be made. Now, she would bask in the afterglow of the lifetime he had given her, pretending that this would not be the end.

The morning sun crept into the room, and he squinted as it hit his eyes. He groaned, not wanting to move. In his arms, Bulma slept peacefully, as she had all night, cuddling against him as she had for the last three decades of his life. She knew of those thirty years now, of the joy and the pain that had been their lives together. He'd given her that gift knowing it was all he had to give—to assuage her pain, and his guilt, when he left her forever.

You don't have to die with her, she had told him. Yet surely she had seen it in his soul. They were one, he and his woman, and it was a decision he'd made long ago, when it had become clear that peace had returned to the Earth, and he would not die before her in battle. Without her, without their family, he had nothing.

Yet the woman who lay nestled against him had defied any logic that had led him to his fateful decision. She was here, she was Bulma, and the boy was his son. A second chance with them—assuming he deserved such a privilege. Was this what he was meant to do? Or did the gods have a different fate, a better one, in store for this family that he had left too soon? Did he belong here? Only the machinations of his woman had brought him to this time. How did he know that she was right about this?

Though, he thought dully, she usually turned out right most of the time. It was one of the most annoying things about her.

She was certainly correct in assuming that he would grow to love his family in this time. How could he not? With Trunks he had so far corrected all the mistakes of his past, giving the boy time, attention and training that—to his great shame—his son had longed for. And Bulma…

She was his woman. In movement, in thought, in the scent of her skin and the signature of her ki, she was his woman. He could not help but love her. He tried not to even think about how much he wanted her. Holding her like this without making love to her was carrying him to the edge of his restraint. It was his painful erection that had woken him this morning, and the fact that she had snuggled so perfectly against him was not helping matters.

But no, it would be…wrong. A betrayal. No matter how right it seemed…

Yes, he'd given her those thirty years for a number of reasons. For her. For himself. To let her know the extent of his love in the only way he truly could right now.

Reluctantly, he let her go, rising quietly to shower and dress. It was the coward's way, he knew. But he wasn't feeling particularly strong right now.

She awoke in a panic, from dreams of another lifetime to the reality of solitude. He was gone! Had he returned to the future?! Frantically she reached out for him with her mind, then breathed deeply in relief as the sense of him wafted through her mind. No, he was still here. But not for long…

“Vegeta!”

He hadn't turned around when he'd felt her approach, but as she cried out his name, he couldn't help himself. Her eyes were filled with tears, and as she threw her arms around his neck he felt his heart rise into his throat. “Don't go,” she whispered. “Please…”

He hugged her tightly to him, letting her cry for both of them. He couldn't even speak. This was what he'd wanted to avoid. This was the reason he'd come out to the time capsule alone, hoping to be gone before she or the child were even awake.

He was two for two as he heard Trunks' voice calling him as he flew from the front door.

“Papa! Where are you going?!”

Kuso! I was trying to avoid this, woman!

And leave me to tell him? she shot back, resentment filling her eyes as he released her.

He was being a coward, and they both knew it. He had never felt such disgust for himself as he did now. He had faced Majin Buu and Cell without fear, but couldn't bring himself to face a woman and a three year old boy…

Your woman. Your son, she reminded him needlessly, mortifying him even more for having read his shameful thoughts.

At that moment Trunks was face to face with him, levitating in the air to demand his father's attention. “Papa! Where are you going?” he repeated in alarm. “Don't go away! Please!”

He took the boy into his arms, fighting back his emotions as he said, “I need to go somewhere, Trunks. But…we will see each other again. I promise you. It just may not be for a while.” He couldn't promise he would come back, but it was not a lie. Someday Trunks would travel back in time and they would meet—though he realized that the Vegeta who would greet him would not be the caring father he would expect. Another great shame upon his conscience.

Trunks frowned worriedly. “Try to come back soon, Papa, pease? You pwomised to teach me Finaw Fwash.”

Vegeta couldn't reply to that. He had made that promise, not knowing how little time he would have here. He hugged the boy to him without responding, remembering how Trunks in his time had never had that show of affection until he was eight. “Be good. And take care of your mama for me,” he choked out. He held the boy a moment longer, then handed him to Bulma.

I do love you, woman, he told her silently. Even if the boy had not been there, he didn't think he could speak the words aloud. Not right now.

Then come back to me, she told him, her blue eyes filled with fresh tears she was trying to hold back for her son's sake. Come back to us. Please.

Her words rang in his mind as he stepped into the ship, and the image of them looking up at him as he made his ascent was burned into his memory as he closed his eyes against the onslaught of time passing all too quickly. The trip was instantaneous, though his grief made it seem eternal. But as the ship began its descent, his eyes shot open to the reality of what lay before him.

Capsule Corp. His home. His time. Suddenly, all he could think of was his woman, and as the capsule landed he jumped down to the ground and broke into a run towards the main building.

“Bulma!” he cried as he reached the main hallway.

He reached out for her ki, breathing deeply as he felt it, weak but still here. He was not too late. He flew up the stairs, following his sense of her to their bedroom.

A Capsule Corp doctor was leaving the room, and his face grew white at the man's grim expression. “How is she?!” he demanded, his fear translating into anger in his voice.

The doctor was accustomed to Vegeta's manner and was not fazed by the threat in his tone. “She doesn't have much time left. I'm sorry.”

Vegeta pushed past the man to rush to her bedside. Her eyes were closed, and for one terrified moment he thought he was too late. But as he saw the soft movement of her chest, he knew that she was only asleep.

“Vegeta-san,” the doctor began.

“Leave us,” he ordered the man without taking his eyes from his wife's face. “I will care for her now. In fact, make sure everyone leaves the house.”

The door closed behind the man, and he knew they were alone. “Bulma,” he said softly, then, in her mind whispered, Bulma, my love…

Her eyes opened slowly, and she smiled weakly as her eyes focused on him. “Vegeta, is it really you? Or am I dreaming again?”

“I'm here,” he assured her tenderly, gently lowering himself on the bed next to her to take her into his arms. She felt so good, and yet he could feel her ki weakening with each moment. He silently thanked the gods that he had made it back in time. Though seeing her life force slowly fade was more painful than his own death had been.

“I'm sorry,” she said weakly, looking up at him. “I didn't want…you to go through this.”

Foolish woman, he thought to her, the lump in his throat making words impossible, Did you really think I would let you leave this world without me? He brought his lips to hers, hoping to keep back his tears, and failing miserably. He kissed her deeply, willing his energy to flow into her, to give him just a little more time before the inevitable…

He broke their kiss as he felt her agony through their bond, and the sob of his own anguish escaped his lips. Here had had come to give her strength, to comfort her in the end, and he was literally falling to pieces. It was shameful. It was a disgrace…

“I love you, Vegeta,” she said softly, the words that made nothing else matter.

He looked into her eyes unashamed for her to see his tears. “And I love you woman. More than…More than…” He couldn't even find the words. His own life? His own soul? His own pride? I am nothing without you, he thought to her. Did that even come close to defining what he felt for her?

“You don't have to be without me,” she told him tenderly, brushing the tears from his cheek with her fingers. He caught her meaning, yet would not even consider it.

“We will have an eternity together. Nothing less would be sufficient,” he replied softly, taking her face in his hands.

“Of course we will. But it's not your time to die, Vegeta.”

He sighed deeply. “I have cheated death twice, woman. Our children are in Other World, and we will go to meet them together. There is no reason for me to stay on this Earth.”

“Not this Earth,” she replied with meaning. “But I think you found two very good reasons to return to the other one.”

His face darkened as he thought of the woman and child he had tried so hard to forget. “You should not have sent me there,” he told her in no uncertain terms. “The past can't be changed. In their world I am dead, and it would have been better for them both if I had never returned.”

“Vegeta, do you really believe that? Do you think I would have been better off if you had been killed by the Androids? Would Trunks? My gods, Bra would have never even been born.”

He shook his head. “That is in our lifetime, Bulma, not theirs—“

“But they are us, Vegeta! Can you honestly tell me you felt nothing for them? As if they were strangers?”

Had she not been dying in his arms, he would chastise her for her trickery. But there was no real anger in his voice as he replied, “You knew damned well that I would feel something for them. How could I not? The boy is the same toddler I stupidly ignored, and she…” He paused, as if searching for the words, then settled on the most honest. “She is you in every way.”

She smiled knowingly, with that damned satisfaction of having been right, then, with her same vanity as always, pouted, “A younger, prettier version. I guess we finally found a way around that unequal aging process, huh?”

She'd said it lightly, and yet the fact that she might seriously even ponder such a thing disturbed him greatly. Did she really think that his love and passion for her had waned in the least over the years?

I'm kidding, she thought to him, clearly sensing his distress.

He gazed into her eyes then, with the unabashed love that had been so difficult to let her see for so long. “You are as beautiful to me today as you were the day I first saw you on Namek,” he whispered, knowing that she would see the truth in his eyes and in his heart.

Her pale skin flushed ever so slightly with the rush of emotion that ran through her at his words. He kissed her deeply then, slowly and passionately, once more willing his energy to keep her with him just a little longer…

My Prince Charming to the last, she sighed in his mind.

Not always so charming, as you've often reminded me, he replied, the ki flowing between them entwining their thoughts even more intensely than usual.

Well, here's your chance to do it all over again…

He froze at her words, even as he sensed that his energy was quickly failing to sustain her life force. He broke their kiss to look into her eyes in panic. “Bulma, no…” he choked out.

No, don't leave me. No, don't ask me to let you go to Other World alone. No, don't stop me from ending my life with yours. I won't go on without you. I can't…

You don't have to… she whispered in his mind, breaking into his frantic thoughts. “You…have made me so happy,” she told him tenderly. “Please, my Prince…give me…another lifetime…with you…”

“Bulma…” he barely whispered.

“Promise…me…” she murmured weakly, her blue eyes pleading him.

Vegeta could feel his strength slipping away with hers, as her spirit began to pull inexorably away from his, as if half of his soul were being severed. She was dying, and all he wished to do now was to die with her. Nothing—no one—could fill the void that was spreading like a poison through his soul. Yet as he gazed into her eyes, wishing to lose himself in them, he found himself nearly weeping, “I love you…And I will do…whatever you ask.”

The words had sprung from his heart to his lips before his mind could even register them, simply because it was what she needed to hear. And because, when all was said and done, the Prince of Saiyans, the most powerful being in the Universe, had always been utterly powerless to deny his princess anything she asked of him. The relief that washed over her face gave her an almost angelic glow, as she smiled at him for the last time.

Then it happened. The emptiness. The desolation. The unbearable grief, as the loss of his bonded mate hit him with full force. He clutched wildly at her lifeless body, terror washing over him as the spirit that had been intertwined with his for the last thirty years was ripped from his being at the instant of her passing. The peace, the comfort, the happiness that she had brought to his life were torn away mercilessly, leaving behind the shell of the broken man he had been before she had healed the wounds of his past. How had he ever survived like this? How had he ever existed without her?

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!&# 8221; he roared at the gods as he hugged her to him. “Nooooooooooooooo! Noooooooooooooo!”

He felt his ki rising uncontrollably, as he burst into Super Saiyan and beyond, shaking the planet with a transformation beyond his conscious control. He would end it now, end the pain, destroy himself, his worthless self, this entire fucking planet that had lured him into complacency only to bring the reality of his Hell crashing back on him…

Capsule Corp was in ruins around him as he floated above the remains of his life, that all-too-short life, that blissful taste of happiness that had almost made him believe he had a reason to live. He looked down again at her limp form in his arms, the delicate shell of what had been his entire existence, the fragile being who had conquered his pride and awakened his heart with her unconditional love…

And he cried. Shamelessly and uncontrollably, he sobbed against the softness of her skin, so cold now, so cold, as the fragrance of her blue hair against his face brought back a wealth of memories. Slowly he descended, his power and his emotion spent, as he sat crosslegged in the burnt remains of her garden, where Trunks and Bra had been commended to the Other World. He held her in his arms until night fell over him like a shroud. Gods, it would be so easy to be with her now the way he had always planned. And yet he could not break his promise to her.

You've never been wrong in your life, woman, he thought to her, though he knew she could no longer hear him. I will try this for you. To give you another lifetime, as you said. The gods know I fucked things up enough the first time around. I suppose I owe it to you.

He held her there for hours, not wanting to let go. But by sunrise, he had built the funeral pyre, lighting it with a blast of ki, and watching numbly as the flames enveloped the woman who had taught him the meaning of love.

The ship had not been damaged in his rage, and he supposed that somehow from above Bulma had had a hand in that. There was nothing left of their home, but any material reminders of this life would be meaningless. His woman and their children were emblazoned in his memory and his heart. Everything else was of little consequence.

As the time capsule neared its destination, he felt hope begin to rise in his chest as he thought of seeing them again. His woman. His son. Another chance to be with them. Another lifetime.

He'd set the controls for the day after he'd left, hoping to spare them any more anguish than he'd already brought them. As the ship approached, and he saw the repair crews working to rebuild what he and the Androids had destroyed, he knew that his timing had been perfect. Bulma had been expecting them the next day.

The capsule landed, and suddenly journalists were rushing at him, annoying the hell out of him as he glanced around for his woman and son. Where were they?

“Are you the warrior who destroyed them?!” a reported shouted at him as he hopped from the ship.

“Are you the warrior who destroyed the Androids?” another journalist called out.

Suddenly he realized what this was about. Capsule Corp had been wrecked in the final battles with Eighteen and Seventeen. It had taken a couple of days, but the rest of the world had finally put two and two together and figured out that the Androids had been defeated.

“Yes,” he told the crews, annoyed by the flashing cameras. “The Androids are destroyed. Now go about your business and leave us in peace.”

It was more than a request, though he'd matured enough over the years to know that he couldn't simply destroy the journalists as he'd once teased Bulma he would do.

“But who are you?” a young woman cried out insistently. “Are you a friend of Ms. Briefs?”

At that moment the crowd of reporters turned to the house to see Bulma coming from the front door. Vegeta's head snapped in her direction, and he breathed in a deep breath of relief as he saw her. Her eyes opened wide, and she looked as if she would cry.

“Who are you?” the woman persisted.

Vegeta turned briefly to the reporters. “I am Vegeta. I destroyed the Androids. And Ms. Briefs…is my wife.”

The reporters stared at him agape.

“You have your answers. Now go!” he barked impatiently.

He didn't have to ask twice.

She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. But as the reporters scurried away, in shock and perhaps a bit of fear, she ran to him and threw her arms around his neck, crying in pure joy as he lifted her up into his arms and kissed her deeply. Suddenly the awful void that his departure had left in her soul was filled with his essence, as his spirit seemed to reach out to interlace with hers. The bond that he had willfully severed was suddenly there once more, weaving his being into hers as their hearts and souls seemed to become one. He'd felt it too. The emptiness. The bottomless pit. The desolation. From the moment she had died…

I wanted to die with you, he told her through their bond. But you made me promise…to live another lifetime with you…And gods, Bulma, that is what I want to do…

The fact that he now referred to her other self as “you” and not “she” was not lost on her. It had taken her death in that life to make him accept that they were one and the same. Now, as his consciousness melded with hers, the love and desire she had sensed in him all along was no longer clouded with guilt. She was not another woman. She was not a mere replacement for his Bulma. Shewas his Bulma. With this realization had come the freedom to love her as he wanted to...

Where is our son? he asked in her mind as he carried her into the house, still kissing her hungrily. It was the first time he had called the boy that. Ever.

He was upset when you left. I let him go to spend the night with Gohan and Chichi…

He smiled as he laid her down on their bed. We'll go together to get him. First thing in the morning.

How had he ever doubted that this was his woman? From the moment he touched her, he could feel her essence intertwining with his, filling perfectly the barrenness of his soul, healing the gaping wound that had made him nearly go insane with grief. Before, when he had held her in his arms, seeking to comfort her with sensual pleasures, he had kept his emotions in check, refusing to acknowledge the spiritual bond between them. Now, he embraced it, opening the floodgates between them as he reached into her mind with his own. The memories he had given her had only been the start. Even then, he had been guarded, exposing his heart but keeping a part of his soul reserved for the woman he had left behind. But she was that woman, he knew now, and he would hold back nothing from her ever again. He had lost her and found her, and in those agonizing hours without her he had come to know for an absolute fact what he had suspected all along.

He could not survive without her.

She had always been precious to him, but now even more so, if that were possible. He would show her what she meant to him, in ways that even memories of another lifetime could not suffice. He would cherish every inch of her, rediscover every sensation and revisit every pleasure he had ever known with her. For though he had loved her thousands upon thousands of times, tonight would be as the first, as they embarked on a new life together, where the mistakes of his past would make him a better man, a man worthy of her…

Bulma took in a breath as he slowly undressed her, taking his time as he had never before. In the past their lovemaking sessions had always begun in a passionate rush as he had taken her quickly, almost desperately, to assuage his need. Only by the second or third time would he slow down to explore, to languish in the pleasure of their passion. It had never been a problem, really. Her own desire for him seemed constant, and he had never done anything that had been unwelcome.

Now, as he unclasped her bra, fondling her breasts as he tasted each in turn, she could feel the urgency of his erection pressing against her, but knew that he was in no hurry for completion. He was enjoying this too much, and wanted to revel in every moment. She was more than ready for him, and as his fingers slipped into her panties they found her wet with her desire. She reached for his pants, fumbling with the zipper to release him, but he was of no help. He was determined to pleasure her first, and as his fingers slid in and out of her, she found herself shuddering in a wave of delight.

She collapsed against the bed, her entire body weak. Gods, he still hadn't even finished undressing her…

Vegeta smirked as he saw the rapture on his woman's face. He knew that his younger self had rarely shown such restraint. His arousal was painful and ready to rip through his pants, yet he had vowed that he would do this right. He had learned a lot in thirty years of what made his woman happy, and he would show her that age had made him a better lover than the arrogant and selfish man she remembered…

He'd made her come twice before finally letting her release him from the constriction of those jeans—When did you start wearing jeans?—and as she took him into her hands she could feel him pulsing with desire. She pushed him down on his back, and he finally let her take control, groaning through hooded eyes as she moistened him with her mouth. She could feel him holding back his release, as she teased him with her tongue, then tortured him by pulling away. Impatient at last—Can you blame me, woman?—he took hold of her hips, guiding her onto him. Moist with her own arousal, she slid down, gasping as she took him in fully.

Her eyes were locked on his as she rode him, tightening herself around him just to see his face register his ecstasy. He was quickly losing the battle of will, and she quickened her pace to bring him closer to the brink. Sensing his release, he reached down between them, his fingers gently squeezing her sensitive nub.

The wave of passion washed over them all at once, intensified through the bond that made them intimately aware of each other's bliss. Bulma collapsed against him, and he hugged her to him possessively, protectively. When they had finally caught their breath he whispered aloud the words he had never uttered even in their most intimate moments.

“I love you, Bulma.”

She couldn't answer. She merely looked up at him, her face wet with tears of joy, and kissed him on the lips, then snuggled against him for the first peaceful sleep she had had in years.

Again and again they made love that night, each time as intense as the first. When she awoke in his arms that morning, she had to convince herself that this had not been just a wonderful dream. The gods knew she had woken up from such dreams before, only to find herself in the hell that her life had become. But this morning was different. Vegeta was here. And for the first time in all the years she had known him, she knew for certain that he was here to stay.

“It's no dream,” he said aloud, reading her thoughts. She looked up at him from the crook of his arm. He was smiling—rare for him—but with a contentment that surely she had never seen before, except in the memories of that other lifetime that he had given her.

His face grew serious. “I gave you those memories to comfort you. So you would know what you mean to me. But now I wish I hadn't.”

“Why?” she asked in surprise.

His face betrayed more guilt than regret as he replied, “Not all the memories were so pleasant. I did things that hurt you—things I am ashamed of.”

They wafted through her mind. Letting her air car crash when he was in pursuit of Android 20. Ignoring her—and Trunks—on more occasions than he wished to remember. And the worst of all—allowing Babidi to control him to purge him of all the human attachments that he had considered a debility. Even as she saw them in her mind and felt the pain that they had caused them both, she could feel his shame and remorse.

“They were part of our life,” she told him. “Even in this time, you weren't perfect, but I saw the good in you and loved you anyway.”

“Yes,” he said pensively, gratefully. He lifted his hand to her cheek. “I vow this to you, Bulma. I have learned from my mistakes. And I will be the husband and father you and Trunks deserve this time around.”

She smiled brightly. “We'll make our own memories. New ones.”

He nodded, and held her close. He was at peace, and she could feel it.

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. “Um, Vegeta, what you were saying about being a husband and father…” she began, still lying against his chest. “I don't know if you realize it, but you told the journalists I'm you wife. But in this time, we were never married.”

“Is that a problem?” he asked noncommittally.

“Uh, no, I guess not,” she replied awkwardly. “It's just a…ritual, really. It doesn't mean anything.” She hadn't expected that response from him, but certainly a piece of paper shouldn't matter considering the unique bond that they shared…

He lifted up her chin so that she was looking into his face, his lips curled in a smirk and his eyes bright with amusement. “It means something to you. I meant, is it a problem for us to take care of that little formality?”

She grinned. He certainly had matured. She couldn't wait to see what other surprises the future would bring.

As soon as they'd showered together and dressed, Vegeta had scooped her into his arms and flown to Mt. Pao, and the little house that had been Kakarot's. He missed the days when he and the other Saiyan had sparred simply for the pure enjoyment, long after he had come to the realization that there were more important things in life than besting his long-time rival. He missed his friend. But it would be exciting to train this young boy, his son, who had no idea of the great potential hidden within him. Yes, he would train them both, Kakarot's son and his own, the next generation of warriors that would protect this world.

Gohan and Trunks were sparring outside the house when Vegeta and Bulma arrived, and Vegeta's heart warmed at the sight of his young son. Trunks. Another chance with you. I will cherish every moment, my son…

As if sensing his ki, the boy turned to see his parents and broke into a huge grin. “Papa! You're back!” In a heartbeat he flew into his father's waiting arms. Vegeta indulged himself in a tight embrace before releasing the boy to his mother.

“I hope you're ready for some intense training,” he told the child with a façade of gravity.

He looked over at Gohan, who had come to greet them. “You too, Gohan. You can't let yourself slack off just because we're in times of peace.”

Gohan grinned, so like his father that it was unnerving. “Welcome back, Vegeta-san. When do we start?”

Trunks squirmed from his mother's arms and hovered in the air directly in front of his father's face. “Papa, you won't go `way again, will you?” he asked worriedly.

Vegeta shook his head, glancing at Bulma and then back at their son. “No, son. Never.”

Epilogue

Fifteen years later…

It had taken a major effort to modify the time capsule to carry two, but he had insisted on it. He'd promised his woman long ago that he would protect Trunks—all their children for that matter—and that was precisely why he had decided to accompany his teen age son on his voyage into the past. He had to admit, though, that there was another, more personal desire that motivated him. No matter how much he had made up to Bulma and their children for his mistakes of the past, the guilt of his youth still weighed heavily upon him. He couldn't stand the thought of the arrogant, uncaring bastard he had been back then. Trunks was going back to warn the Z Fighters of the Androids. Vegeta was going back to warn himself about…himself.

Bulma had packed away more than the cure for Kakarot. She'd also supplied her younger self with something that only fifteen years of research had produced—an inoculation against the virus that had destroyed his first family, as well as most of the Earth's population. Yes, things would be much different this time around, Vegeta thought with satisfaction as his wife faced him and handed him the small satchel of capsules.

“You'll be careful, right?” she said softly, her blue eyes filled with worry as they met his. After all these years, she still feared losing him, no matter what he had done to reassure her.

“I may be near eighty, but I can still handle myself in a fight, woman,” he said with mock annoyance. “Especially against those two freaks of nature.” He was referring of course to Frieza, and King Kold. The last time he'd merely watched in amazement as his son had dispatched the cruel monster of his youth. This time, it would be a battle between fathers and sons. Even at his age, Vegeta was still ten times more powerful than he had been back then. He was looking forward to the expression on Frieza's face when he turned Super Saiyan Three.

She smiled. “I think they'll be in for a surprise. And so will a certain Saiyan Prince who thinks he's the most powerful being on Earth.”

He smirked, thinking of his younger self. “I still can't believe I let you make me wear that stupid pink shirt,” he grumbled.

“Pink shirt?” Trunks asked, overhearing as he walked towards them. “You've got to be kidding, Dad.”

“I wish I were,” he replied dryly. “Your mother had an annoying sense of humor in those days.”

I just had you wrapped around my finger, she teased him silently.

Had? he responded with a glint of amusement only she could detect.

“Just be safe, okay?” she said to both of them, giving Trunks a hug and then shamelessly throwing her arms around Vegeta though she knew he still felt uncomfortable being affectionate in public. But somehow, this time, he didn't mind as much, and he surprised her by kissing her on the lips and holding her just a moment longer.

We will be fine. I swear to you, he reassured her silently as he released her.

“Papa! Trunks! Wait!”

He turned as he heard the cries of his twin daughters as they ran to say good bye. Identical in every way except disposition, the two six-year olds were so reminiscent of Bra that it hurt. Bulla was the real Saiyan, who had begged him to train her to fight since she was three. Bra was the intellectual like her mother, with her father's arrogance and the same love of shopping and girlish things as the girl she had been named for. His love for them was boundless, and they had him as totally in their thrall as their mother did.

They half-ran, half-flew into his arms and he lifted them up. He'd watched them sleeping quietly before he'd left the house, but was secretly glad they had awoken before his departure. “Papa, why can't we come with you and Trunks?” Bulla pouted, putting on the pathetic face that always got her whatever she wanted from him. “I can do a Big Bang Attack just as strong as his!”

“And what if something happens to the ship?” Bra asked worriedly. “I worked with Mama on the time capsule, and Trunks doesn't know half as much about repairing ships as I do.”

“Gee, Dad, maybe you should take them instead of me,” Trunks joked, coming over to tickle his little sisters affectionately.

Vegeta laughed as the little girls squirmed and giggled in his arms. Their combined hug attack was probably their most deadly finishing move, and they performed it now with such precision that he was nearly convinced to bring them along. But the thought of Frieza even existing for five minutes in the same time as his little princesses made him shudder, no matter how confident he was that he would rip the bastard to pieces.

“Next time,” he told them sternly as they held onto his neck, pleading with him. He hugged them to him for a long moment, kissing them lightly on the tops of their heads before setting them down. “Anyway, I need you to stay here and protect Mama and your little brother.” Vegeta's namesake was just a year old, but already had as powerful a ki as his sisters. In truth, knowing that the girls—especially Bulla—could hold their own in a fight was the only thing that made him rest easy as he left Bulma and their infant son for the first time ever.

The twins nodded solemnly, though disappointedly, as they accepted their responsibility. Bulma took their hands as she looked at him with a mixture of love and worry.

Don't stand there looking so beautiful, woman, or I will have to abandon this whole mission. And you know I can't do that, he thought to her, smiling at her with his eyes. The breeze caught her long hair in its path and made her look even more desirable.

Just come back to me soon, she whispered in his mind.

He nodded, then turned to follow his elder son into the time capsule.

“I love you two! Be careful!” she called out loud before the hatch closed.

And I love you. More than you can imagine, he thought shamelessly as Bulma and the girls waved them goodbye. He knew she had heard him.

He watched as their figures grew smaller, his heart bursting with feeling for this, his new family, every bit as precious to him as the first. He thanked the gods every day for this second chance with them, with her. And if he knocked a little sense into his younger self, maybe this Vegeta would avoid the mistakes he himself had made the first time around.

That arrogant little son of a bitch was in for the shock of his life.

The end…and the beginning.

{Thanks to everyone who has been following this story so patiently and giving me so much encouragement. I hope you like how it turned out. What do you think—sequel? Maybe from the arrogant younger Veggie's POV to see if he takes his own advice….? Or should I just go back and do the sequel to Sole Survivors. Let me know what the readers want, please! Any and all feedback welcome. QS}