Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Find Your Heart ❯ Chapter 1

Find Your Heart

by

BarbaraSheridan

"Give me break, Vegeta! The only time you seem to care is in the bedroom and now you're going to play Mr. Jealous. Why?"

"Because Yamcha's tongue was half way down your throat and his hands--"

"All right!" Bulma shouted, silencing the angry Saiyan Prince. "Okay, so Yamcha kissed me. I've known him half my life, we had a serious relationship once and now and he's leaving town. Excuse me for taking this goodbye too seriously." She took a deep breath and continued. "Let's just forget it and move on."

Vegeta smirked. "Move on? To what? Yet another new lover?"

"There is no one and hasn't been since you, you royal idiot!"

"Prove it."

Bulma grabbed the vase off the mantle and hurled at her arrogant partner. Vegeta intercepted it with a small ki blast that sent a shower of water, petals, leaves and tiny glass fragments crashing to the blue rug.

From the far bedroom Trunks began to cry. Bulma wanted to cry herself. "Great. You woke up your son. It took me all morning to get him to nap."

Vegeta glared at her, arms folded defiantly across his chest. "I wonder now if he is my son."

Anger welled up inside Bulma. How dare he? It was bad enough that he treated her like his personal whore half the time and now he was accusing her of being one in general. "Get out and don't come back!"

"Gladly."

Fists clenched at her sides, the sound of her baby's cries echoing in her ears, Bulma watched Vegeta stalk out of the house. Part of her was devastated, yet part of her was relieved. At least for now.

*****

Vegeta flew blindly into the sky soaring higher than the birds, seemingly faster than the plane in the distance. Damn that insolent woman. How did she expect him to react to the sight of her and her weakling former lover locked in an embrace in the middle of his very own living room? That was no simple farewell between old friends, certainly not on Yamcha's part. He still carried feelings for her, it was as obvious as the sun in the sky.

Unleashing a growl of frustration, Vegeta went Super Saiyan and zipped off towards the horizon. He surged away from the city, over the sprawling countryside and towards the mountains. He banished all thoughts until a wildly fluctuating ki signature bombarded him. He looked around to get his bearings and realized that he was nearing Mt. Pazou and Kakarot's home. Slowing his pace just a little, Vegeta concentrated. The distressed ki was that of Kakarot's woman. She was in pain. Great pain both mentally and physically.

Ah. It was no concern of his. That damn clown had to play the hero yet again and it cost him his life. If anything happened to the woman or brat it was Kakarot's own fault. This was no concern of his.

The level of distress in the ki hit Vegeta once more and though he fought it, something within him demanded that he investigate.

A sharp, agonized cry sliced through the air as Vegeta touched down near the small house. She sounded as is she were being tortured, though he didn't sense any other presence. He entered the house. "Woman! Woman where are you?"

"Aaaaahhhyeee!"

The cry pierced his ears, reached down and gripped his stomach. "Chi-Chi!" He hurried inside, and found her in the small bedroom, surprised to see her in the late stages of pregnancy-or rather-labor.

Breathing hard, Chi-Chi opened her eyes. "Vegeta?"

"Hai." He took a step towards the bed. "I felt your ki fluctuating. The child is Kakarot's?

Her eyes flashed angry. "Of course." She gritted her teeth as another spasm began to build. "I never had the chance to tell him-" She broke off and took several deep breaths. "Maybe I should have told him, maybe he'd still be alive-"

The contraction hit her hard and Vegeta tensed as she cried out. Giving birth to a Saiyan was hard on a woman. It might done Bulma in if she hadn't had the team of doctors at her side. "Where is the doctor?"

"There isn't one," she muttered as the pain subsided. "It's too late anyway. I think he'll be arriving very soon. She clenched at the tangled bedsheets.

"Where is the boy?"

"Gohan? He's with my father for a few days."

Vegeta stood, arms folded across his chest, trying not to hear her pain or watch her writhe as another spasm came. This was absurd. He didn't belong here and had no desire to watch another brat of Kakarot's burst into the world. He unfolded his arms, shifted his weight in preparation to leave. Chi-Chi's plaintive plea stopped him.

"Vegeta? Could you hold my hand? Please?"

He hesitated, but the look in her eyes compelled him to give in to the simple request.

Pulling a small wooden chair close to the bed, he offered Chi-Chi his hand which she gripped with all her might as yet another contraction took her. Her strength surprised him as did the hint of fear in her dark eyes when she looked at him.

"It won't be long. Will you help me?" She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth then looked at him again. "Of course you won't, how stupid of me. Go. Leave if you want. I'll manage alone. I always do."

The stubbornness tinging her words and eyes hit the Saiyan prince harder than he would have expected. This little ningen had the heart of a warrior. "What would you have me do?" He found himself asking.

Chi-Chi gritted her teeth and grabbed onto his hand as another contraction began to build. Her voice was tight. "That basin on the dresser. Fill it with warm water. And if you could cut the cord when he comes out---."Her words broke off again as the pain hit and Vegeta let her grab his hand, his thoughts drifting back to the night Trunks was born.

He hadn't been involved, hadn't wanted to. She hadn't seemed to want him to, either. He wasn't even aware a question formed in his mind until it passed between his lips. "Kakarot was with you with Gohan?"

Chi-chi answered, her voice showing signs of strain."I think he was more scared than I was, but he held my hands and I didn't feel so afraid, so alone in it all."

She gasped then shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "It's time. Please get the water."

Vegeta did as she asked, still surprised with his own acquiescence. It was as if something was compelling him to help despite his inherent loathing of everything having to do with that baka Kakarot. When he came back to the bedroom Chi-Chi had turned herself sideways, her back towards him. She raised her knees, pulled her nightdress up.. "Let me lean back against you," she gasped. "And hold your hands..."

Vegeta felt oddly calm as the woman settled back against him, using his solidity and hands as leverage as she pushed the tiny Saiyan into the world. It was a boy and it reminded him of a wet, howling, miniature Kakarot attached by an umbilical cord to a rather disgusting mass of bloody tissue.

"Tie the cord near his belly with the string on the end table near the knife, then cut above the string."

He did as asked, Chi-Chi cradling the squalling newborn in her hands. She shifted on the bed, pushed the sheet over the placenta then began to wash the muck from her son.

The prince was uncharacteristically touched as he watched her gently bath this littlest Saiyan's body and tail then wrap him in a soft blanket.

"Could you please give me the senzu bean in the pouch near the lamp?"

She chewed the bean, taking long deep breaths as it restored her. She laid the baby in the tiny cradle near the bed then turned to Vegeta, gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Ouji", she said softly. "Could you please watch him while I bathe and clean this mess?"

Vegeta grumbled, but nodded, impressed that she'd called him Prince. While Chi-Chi gathered up the soiled sheets and left the room, he gazed down at the squirming little bundle in the cradle, slightly amused at the way the babe sucked furiously on his tiny fist. It didn't satisfy him for long and soon his dark eyes were wide open, his lungs screaming out for nourishment.

"Sssssh, brat!"

"There's no need for that!" Chi-Chi snapped hurrying back into the bedroom, her long hair hanging loose, dripping down the back of her plush robe. "He's just hungry. Being born is hard work, even for a future Super Saiyan."

Vegeta's displeasure rumbled in his chest like a growl yet he made no move to leave as Chi-Chi scooped up the baby and sat in a rocking chair, settling the infant at her breast.

I need to get out of here, it's ridiculous to stay. I shouldn't even be here, subjecting myself to this.

"I do appreciate you being here, Vegeta. I can't thank you enough."

He replied with a grunt and a curt nod as he stood, arms folded across his broad chest, face wearing its customary scowl.

"If you're hungry there's food in the refrigerator. Fresh egg rolls, chicken and a pot of rice."

He was hungry and strangely reluctant to leave. What madness is possessing me? He wondered as he made his way to the kitchen and opened the well stocked refrigerator. He still hadn't found the answer by the time Chi-Chi appeared when he was on his third helping of food.

She had the sleeping baby in a chest sling. .After she poured herself a glass of milk. she sat at the wooden table. "I'm going to call him Goten. It's a good name, don't you think?"

Vegeta's answer was a noncommital grunt as he finished the last of his rice. "I'm leaving, woman."

"Please don't," she said standing, grabbing his arm. She dropped her hand, her dark eyes locked onto his. "Could you, would you, please stay at least until my father brings Gohan back tomorrow? I have a feeling that things aren't right..."

"Is something the matter with the brat?" he asked, trying to study it.

"No, I don't think so, she said quietly. She sat back down, twisting the half empty glass in her hands. She looked up at Vegeta who still stood, a darker than usual expression gracing his face.

*******

"Are you sure you want to do this, honey?" Dr. Briefs asked as Bulma placed the last of her possessions into a dino cap.

"I don't want to, Daddy. I have to." She took a deep breath then grabbed her keys, laptop and diaper bags and slung them over her shoulder. She took the dozing Trunks from her father, trying not to look at his face just now. He looked so much like Vegeta when he slept that it was tearing her apart. "I don't know what else to do. Maybe some time apart..."

"He should be the one to leave here."

"He has no place to go, no one to turn to," Bulma whispered, knowing full well that she shouldn't care, especially when Vegeta clearly didn't. She sniffled back the tears that desperately wanted to flow and forced herself to smile. "I'll be in touch. I promise."

Bulma walked out the door without looking back, glad that her mother wasn't there, knowing that she'd find a way to make her change her mind and stay as she had so many times before. She had to go. She had to leave Capsule Corp. for her sake and for Trunks'.

*******

"The villagers thought my mother was witch," Chi-Chi said after the silence had settled over the small kitchen in the Son house. "She wasn't, but she could feel things, sometimes see things."

"And this is a concern of mine because?" Vegeta said, leaning back against the counter his arms folded across his chest.

"Because I feel things about you," she said simply, her dark eyes meeting his. "I've seen things about you, your past..." Her voice trailed off and she continued to stare at him, sensing that he knew what she referred to. Your secrets are safe with me, she thought before looking down at the blissful face of her infant son. With a feathery touch she caressed his plump cheek, touched the shock of unruly black hair atop his head. This baby would have the innocence and happy childhood of his father. He wouldn't know the fear or horrors that her older son or Vegeta had. She would see to that with her last dying breath.

"You need to find your heart, Vegeta," she said softly, her gaze lifting to his once more.

The Saiyan grunted his displeasure. "Baka," he muttered, skewering the foolish onna. "A warrior has no need of a heart. Emotions are a burden, a needless distraction."

"You didn't always feel that way."

He stiffened.

"You need to find your heart, " Chi-Chi repeated. "And let it lead you where it will. It knows what you need, Vegeta, even if you refuse to listen."

He growled his reply then stalked towards the kitchen door. He had every intention of flying off into the black sky and yet he didn't and he wasn't sure why. Instead he walked beside the stream near the house,. He stopped to sit atop a small outcropping of rocks. Stupid woman. How dare she tell him he needed to find his heart. How dare she act as though she could see inside his soul, as if she could know what his life had been life.

Vegeta's grumble skittered the sleeping birds in the trees. He had no need of a heart and refused to deal with foolish ningen emotions. Then why are you here? Vegeta silenced the question in his mind. That brat Gohan had sacrificed himself, almost lost his arm deflecting the deadly blast aimed at him from Cell. He owed the brat a small debt of gratitude and was repaying it to his mother.

*******

It was long after midnight when Bulma reached the small house she'd secured far from the city. Vegeta would never find her here. Not that the egotistic s.o.b. would even bother to look. What ever possessed her to take up with the big ape in the first place? He was a barbarian, a cold, selfish oaf. He was paranoid and vindictive.

And so brave...

She set the sleeping Trunks on the center of the bed in the small furnished house then began unpacking their belongings as memories filled her mind of the time Vegeta had nearly blown himself up while training in the gravity room. He'd been unconscious for days and she'd stayed by his side, as he slipped in and out of the coma, muttering, re-living his past. It had only been bits and pieces but it had been enough for the awfulness of it all to sink in.

He'd been sent to Frieza as a a tiny boy, he'd been locked alone in the dark, left unfed, and worse...

He'd grown into a hard man, but could she really blame him? It was a wonder that he'd survived at all. True, he'd been a horrible person when she'd first encountered him, but later when he'd come back and Frieza was defeated for good, he calmed. Not a lot, but enough to even let some of his wicked sense of humor out, and then, one late night after a picnic he'd shown her an incredible side of himself.

The kiss had been sudden, totally unexpected, but when Vegeta wrapped his strong arms around her, she was lost. He was so warm, so unbelievably gentle in his embrace that it was like a dream.

But too often it's felt like a nightmare....

Bulma sighed and dropped down into the rose colored easy chair near the bedroom window. Living with Vegeta was like living with Jekyll and Hyde, with Hyde the more frequent visitor. She craved the moments when he'd be content to be just an ordinary man, reading or watching tv or simply taking a long hike in the woods. Those moments seemed to get further and further apart but the closeness they shared during those times was like a drug that kept her hanging on.

But at what price? Her heavy heart asked.

She felt so damned lonely that it ate away at her more and more each day. At least when Yamcha was around she had a friend to talk to, but then he drifted and left...

I'll be heading out to Tokyo in three weeks. Come with me Bulma, you and Trunks. He's going to be a great kid and you know he'd love growing up around a world championship baseball team, right slugger?"

Trunks had squealed with laughter when Yamcha picked him up and tossed him in the air then caught him and spun around in circles, finally plopping down on the grass in a heap with him and little Puar.

Vegeta had been watching from the gravity room and she'd hoped the father-son like scene would trigger something in him, but it hadn't. In fact it seemed to make things worse. The only time she saw him lately was in bed and although those hours were complete, mind numbing bliss, the illusion shattered the instant they were upright and clothed.

She couldn't go on that way.

Her cell phone rang and she answered, hoping.

"Hey babe, it's me," Yamcha's chipper voice announced. "You got a minute or is the royal pain in the ass glowering for your attention?"

"Vegeta isn't here. I don't know where he is."

"Ooh, I don't like the sound of that---and yet I do..."

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*******

"Woman! I want breakfast!"

Silence.

Vegeta went to the window and shouted towards her parents' part of the compound.. "Woman, Come here! I'm hungry!"

"The whole city doesn't need to hear you, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs said as he came in the front door. "Bulma isn't here."

"She's shopping for food," he said looking into the empty refrigerator. Odd it had been well stocked only yesterday.

"No, she's gone. Moved away."

"What?" They Saiyan spun and glared at the older man. "With that weakling bakayaro--"

"Yamcha has nothing to do with it. She left alone, well, alone with Trunks."

"Where is she?" Vegeta demanded, his raspy voice seething with danger. His stance was stiff, ready for attack.

Bulma's father stood his ground. "I don't know and if I did I wouldn't tell you." His expression remained impassive as Vegeta growled his displeasure. "I don 't know what she sees in you and it's because of her that I'm not throwing you out into the street. " He breathed a sigh and when he continued his tone was softer. "Have you any idea how many times I've watched her dissolve into tears because of the way you treat her? She gave you a beautiful son and you can barely bother to look at him most days. What are you training for Vegeta? Cell is gone. Frieza is gone. There are no more monsters. They only thing left to destroy is my daughter's love for you, so who's the baka?"

The Saiyan's anger continued to smolder long after Bulma's father left. How dare she leave him, how dare she think he would ever allow it? She was his mate, she belonged by his side.

And by his side she would soon be. A satisfied smile curved his mouth as he went in search of Bulma's mother. She would tell him. She could deny him nothing.

Vegeta cursed in his native tongue. Mrs. Briefs gave him no information. He cursed even louder when Bulma's father told him that her latest project was missing from the lab as well--it was a ki cloaking device.

It would be impossible to find her now, without being able to lock onto Trunks' ki signature.

Then again...

*********

Yamcha flipped Vegeta the finger after wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth and pulling himself to his feet. "Do it again, big guy. I love it when you play rough."

Vegeta aimed a blast at the smirking ningen's head, missing it by a fraction. Surprisingly, Yamcha did not flinch.

"Go ahead and kill me, Vegeta, I'm not afraid. Been there, done that remember?"

"Where is my woman?"

"Where she belongs--away from you."

"She belongs with me!" He lunged at Yamcha.

"I don't know where she is, you asshole!" Yamcha yelled the third time Vegeta threw him across his trashed livingroom. "I've talked to her on the cell phone. I didn't even know she'd left home until you showed up."

Vegeta dropped the battered warrior onto the remains of his leather sofa.

********

Eleven days.

It had been almost two weeks since she left. Surely she had come to her senses. She wasn't stupid. She knew where she belonged and with whom. Satisfied that she would be back at any moment he went to train.

Eighteen days.

The woman was insane. And if he was a sentimental fool he might even miss her.

The telephone rang.

He smirked. Just as he thought. She was begging his forgiveness, as she should. He let the answering machine pick up.

"Bulma called," her father said. She and Trunks are fine, happy actually. I thought you might want to know."

Vegeta slammed his fist onto the kitchen table in frustration. It shattered like a thrown porcelain figurine. Cursing the woman's foolishness, he went to take a shower. As he was drying off his gaze fell upon the small calendar on the vanity where Bulma once kept her makeup.

Why didn't I realize this sooner? He wondered as he focused on the small red circle she used to remind herself of her monthly cycle. It wouldn't be easy since her cycle was nearing its end but he'd find her by scent and bring her and the boy back to where they belonged.

By his side.

********

The sight of her in the distance two days later made his stomach flop though he told himself it was the sensation left from grazing a tree top earlier. He landed behind a boulder on a hill and looked down into the little clearing where his woman and son sat on a large plaid blanket. A small brick house stood in the background. Trunks was devouring a handful of those little cereal o shapes he loved while Bulma typed something into her laptop, looking up frequently to check on Trunks and refill his little bowl and juice cup as needed.

Vegeta found himself chuckling a short time later when Bulma made a funny face and held her nose. She appeared to be holding her breath as she hurriedly changed Trunks' diaper. That cereal and white grape juice had an unusual effect on the boy, you think she'd have learned that by now.

He watched her cleaning her hands with liquid sanitizer and tried not to remember the feel of those delicate hands upon his flesh. The taste of her lips against his.

Brainless woman. What was she trying to prove? And who was she trying to prove it to? She was his. She belonged to him. With him. Always.

Still, Vegeta made no move to confront her and when little Trunks appeared to sense his ki and started crawling in the direction of the hill, he left, not returning until darkness fell over the little ranch house in the woods.

He heard the cell phone ring as he landed a few feet away from the wooden deck outside Bulma's bedroom.

"He came looking for me? When? Oh, no. Are you all right, Yamcha? I'm so sorry. I feel awful. Are you sure you're all right? I'll replace everything he ruined. No. I want to. I need to." Bulma began to cry. "I'm so, so sorry. You're positive okay? All right, then. I'd better go. I'll call you tomorrow. I promise."

Vegeta ducked into the shadows when Bulma stepped outside, tears coursing down her pretty face. "What is wrong with you Vegeta?" she muttered. " How could you hurt Yamcha? He's just my friend, the only one I really have."

What was wrong with him? What was wrong with her? He hadn't seriously damaged the weakling. He could have killed the smug bastard with a flick of his wrist but he hadn't and didn't only because of that inane fondness she had for him. How dare she shed tears for someone so inferior, so unworthy of her?

"Mamma! Mamma-mamma-mamma!"

Drying her eyes, Bulma disappeared inside. Vegeta stood looking after her then left as silently as he'd come.

Foolish, sentimental ningen.

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*********

The house was empty when Vegeta returned the following night and he felt his blood boil. She was probably with that bakayaro, nursing his imaginary wounds. Containing a low growl he got in through the balcony door. His senses reeled as the unmistakable essence of his woman surrounded him, filled that empty little spot of his soul that he refused to acknowledge. He approached the wide bed, smoothed his large hand over the pillow that bore the impression of her head. He remembered the feel of her silken hair against his chest in the night, the warmth of her naked skin next to his.

An image of Yamcha kissing her that day came back to him and he clenched his fists, containing the angry power that wanted to surge forth.

Trunks squealed as the air car touched down.

"Settle down, kiddo, it's almost bedtime," she said as he took him from his car seat. "You had enough play time at the pizza place." Bulma stopped dead after taking a few steps into the house. She shook off the odd chill that came from nowhere. How weird. It was the same feeling she'd had when Vegeta crashed the spaceship near CC after he'd taken off looking for Goku. He'd been dirty and ragged and had smelled to high heaven but damn he was impressive...

With a weary sigh, she set down the squirming Trunks and pushed the old memories away where they belonged. "Slow down. You just started walking you don't need to run yet," she called, rushing after Trunks who made a beeline for her bedroom.

The weird chill hit her again but she dismissed it upon seeing the broken picture in front of her dresser. It must have fallen though she was sure it wasn't that close to the edge. "No, no, honey, you'll get hurt," she said, blocking Trunks' progression to the broken frame. He tried to get around her and she let him have the group photo to occupy him while she cleaned up the glass. The mess removed she sat on the floor with her son, listening as he chattered in baby talk at the picture taken at her birthday.

As always, Vegeta was with the group yet outside it as though the rest of them were unworthy to be in his presence. Would she ever understand him? Did it even really matter now?

She pulled Trunks onto her lap and hugged him close as he babbled on.

"Dada. Dada-dada-dada-dada."

"You miss your daddy, I know." She sighed. "I guess I do, too."

"Then why did you leave me?"

Bulma's stomach leapt as that voice hit her from behind. It wasn't possible.

"Answer me, woman."

Woman, not Bulma.

Steeling her resolve, Bulma stood, clutching the squirming Trunks to her chest like a shield. "Get out of my house, Vegeta. You're trespassing."

"You are my mate."

"I should be your wife, Vegeta, but you could never be bothered with that little formality, could you?"

Trunks began to fuss, wanting to go to his father. Bulma held him tighter.

"Come home."

"I am home. I'm in my home with my son," she said calmly.

"He is my son too."

"Is he?" she shot back. "Unless I'm mistaken you weren't positive of that the last time I saw you."

With a surge of raw power that surprised them all, little Trunks broke free of his mother's hold and went to Vegeta. He clutched at his father's booted calf.

"Dada. Dada-dada-dada!"

Vegeta made no move to pick Trunks up. He just stood there with that imperious look of his as if to say, I told you so, onna.

"You hurt me, Vegeta and I won't let you do it anymore."

"I never touched you in anger."

Bulma took a deep breath. "You might as well have. You hurt my feelings. Again and again you hurt my feelings by treating me like your servant, acting like I'm just your whore to use when you're bored.." She picked up the baby, holding him as tightly as possible.. "I won't let you treat me like that anymore and I won't let you treat Trunks like dirt either."

She turned her back on him. "Get out."

Vegeta cursed his obstinate mate long into the night and into the next day. She was insane. She was brainless. She was a complete fool! She needed him, The boy needed him.

Find your heart, Vegeta...And let it lead you where it will. It knows what you need, even if you refuse to listen."

He needed nothing. He was a warrior, dependant only upon himself. He needed no one He had everything he could possibly want or need. Everything.

Everything? He thought he heard Chi-Chi's voice ask from afar.

Many days passed.

Vegeta tried to cease the foolish thoughts that kept assaulting him yet found the task nearly impossible. He trained until he was ready to collapse from exhaustion and still the nagging little voice kept taunting him.

Find your heart.

*********

The instant he silently touched down on the wooden deck outside her room he heard her crying over the steady stream of water running in the shower. The sound of her sobs cut him as thoroughly as any ki blast could.

A remembered comment from Dr. Briefs rubbed salt into the gaping wound.

Have you any idea how many times I've watched her dissolve into tears because of the way you treat her?

What did she expect? Did she honestly think he was capable of behaving like a common ningen? Did she think he could be like Kakarot, openly displaying his private feelings, hugging her to him, carrying his son around as though he were a pack animal and not an elite Saiyan Prince?

Did she even know what kind of man he was at all?

Vegeta forced himself not to hear her sobs and made his way quietly to look in on Trunks before leaving.

Much later that night he returned to the little house. Again she was crying. This time lying on the side of the wide bed, an unframed picture clutched in her hand. She let the photo go and it fluttered to the floor landing face down.

Every nerve in his body pulsated at her nearness and his hands tingled. He wanted desperately to touch Bulma, to hold her in a crushing embrace and never let her go. His lips begged to kiss her sweet skin, to speak her lovely name. He wanted very much to ease the inner pain that tormented her, but he couldn't.He waited until the crying turned to ragged breathing and until that turned to the familiar steady breathing that meant she had drifted off to sleep. Vegeta crept in and knelt beside the bed. He should leave here.

Instead, he found himself easing ever slowly into the bed, stopping frequently, waiting to see if Bulma stirred. Mere inches separated them. Vegeta closed his eyes and willed his hands to remain still.

Just one touch. One simple touch. A brush of the fingertips. That's all.

Holding his breath, Vegeta reached out. He stopped and counted to twenty, then lowered his hand to the curve of Bulma's lush hip. He clamped his eyes shut and held his breath as the feel of her skin, so soft beneath the thin material of her satin sleepshirt, shot electricity through his veins.

Enough! Vegeta told his willful hand. You touched her. Leave her. Leave....

Vegeta slid his hand across Bulma's hip until his fingers brushed her belly. Instinctively they slid lower, grazing the soft feminine curls, slipping ever so close to her center, her moist heat reaching out to him.

Bulma's quiet murmur broke the room's silence like a crash of shattering glass and Vegeta tried to pull his arm away, but Bulma turned more to the left, grabbing his hand in hers as she had done countless times before. Vegeta had no choice but to move with her, and his instinct again responded by cradling her against him, curving his body with hers.

A low moan escaped Vegeta's lips when he felt Bulma's back against his chest. The feel of her heated his blood and drove away the dank chill that had settled over him when she went out of his life. He rubbed his cheek against the silkiness of her hair.

"I love you," he whispered, closing his eyes to doze beside her, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks.

In the middle of the night Bulma shifted her position again and Vegeta eased himself out of the bed. He'd heard a sound from Trunks' room. He went there, not wanting the child to cry out and disturb his mother.

"Dada. Dada-dada-dada"

"Hush, brat," Vegeta whispered, approaching the crib. His son pulled himself to a standing position and held his arms out wanting to be picked up. Vegeta simply stood and looked at him.

"Up-dada-up-dada-up-dada."

"Hush, boy."

Vegeta grumbled when Trunks began to cry and he gave in, pulling the boy to him. Such a tiny thing he was, so seemingly fragile.

Unexpectedly, Trunks wrapped his pudgy little arms around his father's neck and rested his head upon the strong shoulder. Vegeta tried to replace him in the crib but he began to fuss, holding to his father with unlikely strength.

"A true warrior doesn't cling to anyone, boy," Vegeta mumbled.

Not wanting Bulma awakened, he decided to sit in the oak rocking chair she'd placed near the window.

Trunks quickly settled himself in Vegeta's arms and drifted to sleep.

Oddly, Vegeta felt peaceful sitting in this unnatural position, his son's warmth and closeness serving to bring back a portion of that peacefulness he'd felt lying next to his mate. He peered down at the baby's face, illuminated by the soft glow of the night light on the bureau opposite the crib. He was a handsome child and strong.

"You have your mother's ningen coloring, but I'll bring out the Saiyan in you, brat," Vegeta said quietly. "I'd make you a fine ruler-if only there were something to rule." He breathed a miserable sigh, letting his thoughts voice themselves.

"You should have begun to train the day you took your first step but she wouldn't allow it. Doesn't the onna realize what an insult to our people it is to have you coddled. How can you hope to command the respect of a planet when your mother pushes you in a powder blue buggy..." Vegeta's words dissolved into a troubled silence. Perhaps none of it mattered. Their planet was gone, their race all but exterminated save for himself and Kakarot's offspring. Did anything matter anymore?

He brushed a stray lock of lavender hair out of Trunks' eyes and let his rough fingertip caress the baby's soft cheek. "You've been denied your birthright my son, and that pains me more than you can know."

He remembered the strange appearance of his son's future self. " It's fitting that you were able to destroy that bastard Frieza once and for all. He's the one who stole your legacy, murdered your people, ripped the innocence from me when I wasn't much older than you are now..."

"Sometimes I wonder what it might have been like if Frieza never existed. Would I have ruled by my father's side, commanded his armies, been the first to reach Super Saiyan as was my destiny?"

Vegeta closed his eyes a moment, willing the pain and longing to secret itself once more deep within his soul. His life wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to spend is youth serving that slimy bastard and his twisted desires. He wasn't supposed to be bested time and again by a low level fool like Kakarot. He shouldn't have been saved like a weakling woman by Kakarot's half breed offspring.

He gazed down at the peaceful face of his son. "I long to give you what is yours, Trunks, but I am powerless. I'm at the mercy of this world, struggling to hold onto what I've known my entire life. I'm a Saiyan Prince, I must never forget that. "

He paused and struggled with the turmoil that gripped him daily. "But sometimes I do forget it. She makes me forget it. Your mother has the power to make it all seem inconsequential. It's madness, you know, that a weakling ningen should touch a part of me that no one and nothing ever has. When I'm alone with her I'm just a man with a man's wants and desires. She makes my pride, my entire purpose, slip into the background, but I don't know if it should."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, the words voicing the thoughts he kept locked away. "I train constantly because what else is there? I'm a warrior without an enemy. I'm a ruler without a planet or subjects to rule. What would she have me do, be a lab assistant to her or her father? I'm a warrior, it's my career, my life's work. I should be conquering planets and using the spoils to lavish my mate and son, and furnish your every need. Instead I have to let her and her family provide the roof over your head, the food in your belly."

Vegeta touched his cheek to the top of his sleeping son's head. "Sometimes I resent her and the power she wields so unknowingly. She makes me forget who I am, what I was, and at those times I don't even care. When she's beside me she is my universe. She makes this world a tolerable place. I'm emasculated with her and lost without her."

"Oh, Vegeta. I had no idea..."

Vegeta's back went stiff, the change in his ki, waking Trunks instantly.

He stood, put the boy back in his crib. Trunks began to wail. Vegeta turned to the door. Bulma stepped forward.

"Please don't go. Please let me settle the baby first. Please."

Vegeta replied with a growl and turned to look out the window.

Bulma trembled as she got Trunks settled once more. She thought she'd been dreaming at first. It had to have been a dream hearing Vegeta tell her that he loved her, but when she woke and came to look in on Trunks the reality of it hit home. And when she heard Vegeta pour out his heart because he thought no one could hear, it had torn her apart inside. She knew this moment was crucial for them all and she was clueless as how to handle it.

Bulma licked her dry lips as she approached Vegeta. She wanted to touch him but didn't thinking the contact might make him flee. "Vegeta. Can we talk, please? In the other room."

He stood immobile and her heart caught in her throat. He was going to leave and never come back. She'd seen him at his most vulnerable and his damn pride would never allow it.

"Hnn," he grunted, turning and walking past her, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Bulma followed him to the livingroom, her mind racing, her heart poised to crumble if he walked out on her.

The silence hung thick and heavy over them despite the soothing light coming from the small table lamp near the front door.

His back was to her and she wanted to cry, wanted to rush into his arms and hold him to her always.

"I love you, Vegeta," she said at last. "I love you with all my heart."

He said nothing. His rigid posture remain unchanged.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I thought I was dreaming. I thought I heard Trunks cry and I went to check on him..." She took a deep breath. "I apologize for intruding if I, did but I'm not sorry that I heard you."

He seemed to grow stiffer as if bracing for a conflict.

"I guess I never really tried to see things from your point of view. I never realized how it must feel for you. I had an idea but..."

Her voice trailed off as nothing appeared to make sense or matter. What could she possibly say?< o:p>

"I love you, Vegeta. You're the most incredible man I've ever met. I guess I don't understand you sometimes, but I want to. I want to be a real part of your life."

"You are," he muttered after what seemed an eternity. He turned, his dark eyes fastening onto hers. "You and the boy are my life."

Bulma stepped closer, almost afraid to go into his arms. Raw emotion churned inside her and tears threatened to well up behind her eyes. "Living without you has been hell for us both. We need you, Vegeta." He lowered his head and her heart sank.

"I want you with me. You belong with me."

He didn't look up. She said nothing as words tumbled through her mind in a heap, unable to press themselves through her lips in a coherent fashion.

Vegeta approached her. She could almost feel the power emanating from him. The familiar chill raced up and down her spine. Her knees grew weak when he placed his hands upon her shoulders. She dug her fingers into his broad back when he pulled her against his solid chest.

"You are my mate, onna. I want you beside me."

He pulled back, cupped her cheek in his hands. Stamping down his pride, he finished. "I love you, Bulma."

The End.