Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Musing ( Chapter 39 )

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

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men. Oh, and fictional alien men having babies...'cause that's a'happen' here folks...

To my wonderful, wonderful beta-reader, Rowina: Thank you, thank you....thank you... ^-^


“That was sure some party!” Goten exclaimed, falling back onto Trunks’ new bed. “And this,” he said, holding his arms out to indicate the suite, “is the coolest gift ever!”

Trunks smiled, shutting off the bathroom light and joining the younger teen in the bedroom.

“Really? I was most impressed with this,” Trunks replied, tugging on the hem of his shirt. Emblazoned on the front of the navy blue fabric was bold gold lettering that proclaimed, ‘Porn Star’.

Goten laughed.

“Did you see the look on my mom’s face when she saw that was what I got you?” he asked. “Woo wee! I am so grounded when I get home!”

Trunks shook his head, but laughed along with his friend.

“Seriously,” he spoke, sitting next to his friend on the bed. “I liked hearing about when I was born. I mean, whenever I used to ask about it, Mom would just smile and say ,‘You were a gift straight from the Kais’ and leave it at that....it was also nice to get to show respect for our Saiyan heritage.” Trunks shrugged. “I hope that it made Dad feel good.”

“He seemed a little uptight about it, if you ask me,” Goten remarked. “But your dad wouldn’t tell that group what he had for breakfast, let alone the details of his procreating.” Goten frowned. “If it was my parents talking about getting it on...gah!”

Trunks rolled his eyes.

“They did not talk about getting it on, you perv. They just mentioned circumstances. It’s not like it’s a secret that my parents have sex.” He turned to look upon his dark haired friend who was now laying with an arm draped over his eyes. “Your parents had sex to have you. They’ve done it at least twice.” Goten’s answer brought a smile to Trunks’ lips.

“No. I was a gift straight from the Kais.”

“Well...” Trunks teased, poking the younger boy in the ribs. “I haven’t seen Kinto-un around in a while...”

Goten pulled the arm from his face and gave a wide eyed stare.

“Good thing, too. I’m not so sure I wouldn’t fall through...”

Trunks gave an amused snort.

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey! What do you know?” Goten sulked.

“I know that you may be impure in mind, but not in body, my little friend...” Trunks replied, pushing the teen to the opposite side of the bed so he could lay down.

The two stared at the ceiling for a moment, in silence.

“I’m afraid to go all the way with Paris,” Goten spoke suddenly. Trunks turned to him but Goten’s gazed remained fixed above.

“Why?”

Goten shrugged.

“What if I hurt her? She’s not...she’s not tough...”

Trunks stared at his friend a moment before continuing.

“Do you love her?”

Goten’s eyes slid closed and for a second Trunks thought that he might have passed out. Certainly he didn’t drink that much beer?

“I don’t know.” Goten replied, without opening his eyes. “She’s sweet and all...and pretty...I don’t know...I’m just tired of...waiting...”

Trunks grimaced.

“Waiting for what?”

Goten’s eyes opened, and he turned to the older boy.

“’Waiting for what?’ he says. Waiting for...for...it...ya’know. For the one. For finding someone who understands me and loves me and who isn’t going to get bruised or broken because I’m too strong.” He closed his eyes again and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s what. I’m not lucky like you.”

Trunk’s brow furrowed, confused by Goten’s last words.

“Like me, how?”

“So I’m thinking the best prospect for a half Saiyan is probably the daughter of the strongest human and an ex-killer android....someone who gives hand knitted hats and gloves for birthday gifts...” Goten was smiling roguishly now with eyes closed, but he knew that Trunks was gaping at him.

“Marron!?” Trunks gasped. “She’s fourteen!”

“Yeah, and when you are twenty five, she will be twenty and then what will it matter?”

The remark got Goten a punch in the arm.

“That’s disgusting.”

“I could’a said Pan,” Goten defended himself with a laugh.

Trunks frowned, and the boys returned to silence.

“I wouldn’t worry about Paris,” Trunks told him. “You aren’t that strong.”

“Prick.”

Trunks chuckled.

“Besides...not to...gah...sound gross or anything, but my mom is not all that strong and...well...”

Goten turned to Trunks and spoke with a dead serious manner.

“Are you offering to let me sleep with your mom?”

Trunks leapt up, grabbing his pillow and pressing it against Goten’s face in a mock murder act.

“You shit-head,” Trunks snapped, giving the younger Saiyan a punch in the ribs for good measure.

“I’m kidding!”

Trunks sat back on his heels and crossed his arms. Goten took the pillow and placed it behind his head with the others.

“Saiyans and Humans are highly compatible, Goten. I think you are worrying over nothing. What you should be worried about is pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. Saiyans are strong,” he finished, laying back down, “not invincible.”

“Damn pregnancy!” Goten thumped his fist against the bed. “There goes our love affair. Damn. I guess I’m seme.”

Trunks gave a snort of laughter in spite of not wanting to encourage Goten’s ill humor.

“Man,” Goten continued, “if there were only Saiyan women, all of this shit could have been avoided, ya know it?”

“Well, you can take that up with Frieza...oh, wait. I killed him! I’m seme.”

Goten chuckled.

“Dude, that wasn’t you....and I hate to break it to you...but, you are so uke it’s not even funny...”

“I’m not the one who owns bikini briefs,” Trunks replied dryly.

“I haven’t seen you go on a date since that library assistant you hooked up with before graduation. So your prospects now are Pan...” He grinned devilishly at his friend’s discomfort and again being called a prick. “Marron...that chick who pays you to tutor her in algebra even though she hates your guts....or dudes, man. You have personally rejected every other girl in West City.”

“It’s hard to find someone who isn’t just after money or her picture on the society page.”

“You want to see hard? Try finding a girl who will date you when you have nothing.”

“Don’t say that, Goten,” Trunks replied. “You have something to offer that no other man does...”

“Yeah?”

“You can be the one to have the babies.”

This time Trunks was the one to receive the mock smothering.

“I fucking hate you,” Goten hissed, giving one last push on the pillow before sitting back.

“No, you love me.”

“Not enough to have your fucking babies, you ass rat,” Goten scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fucker,” he snapped.

“I was joking, Goten,” Trunks grumbled, propping his head up on his hand. “You know that. I’ll tell you what, I’ll never mention your procreative gift again, if you never, ever, mention sleeping with my mother.”

Goten cocked an eyebrow.

“But it’s my fantasy...”

Trunks groaned and turned his face down into the bed.

“I hate you!” came his muffled exclamation.

Goten stared down at his friend a moment, an uncomfortable queasiness in his stomach as he debated with himself over whether or not he should speak.

“Trunks...”

The lavender haired teen turned slightly to open one eye. Goten nervously licked his lips.

“Do you...do you tell people that you are Saiyan?”

Trunks pulled himself up. He was ashamed of his answer.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Trunks shrugged.

“I guess I’m afraid of what they might think...”

“Me too...why is that, do you think?”

Trunks shrugged.

“History gives us no reason to think otherwise. People hate what they do not understand.”

Goten sank down onto the bed, mirroring Trunks’ posture.

“I don’t really think I understand what it is to be Saiyan,” he spoke.

“Neither do I...I mean...I do...kind of...I mean, I understand what my dad expects of me as a Saiyan. But I just don’t know enough about them. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Goten replied, pulling the pillow under his head. “Nothing makes sense anymore. I guess I’ll just have to go with the flow.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t molest me while I’m sleeping, okay?”

“But it’s my fantasy,” Trunks replied, leaning back and snapping off the light.

There was silence in the room for a short while as the two tried to fall asleep.

“Trunks?”

“Hm?”

“You think people will treat my dad differently...badly...because he’s...you know...?”

Trunks opened his eyes, and he could see the moonlight reflected in Goten’s dark orbs.

“No one seemed to be treating him any differently tonight,” he replied.

“I don’t mean them...” Goten tried to clarify. “I mean...them.”

Trunks understood. So many changes had taken place in the last weeks, so many discoveries, so much new information about himself...and although he didn’t quite feel exactly Saiyan...he didn’t exactly feel human anymore, either.

“I hope not,” was his answer.

“Me too,” Goten mumbled, sleepily, giving a yawn. “Because I’ll fucking kill them...”


“Continue to hold him that much, and he will never learn to fly. He will expect to be carried."

Vegeta twitched at the sound of the voice, soft and feminine, but strong.

“You expect me not to marvel over such a fine Saiyan that I have created?” a deep, male voice replied. “Besides, he is never complacent enough to be held when he is awake. He has the energy of dozens of Saiyans and the power of hundreds.”
Vegeta recognized the voices. Had dreamed of them before. Why had they seemed so familiar to him, yet so strange and alien at the same time? They seemed to speak directly to his heart, but his mind refused to allow too much of a connection. He could hear them, but could not see them. Could not look upon their faces.

But he could feel them. Feel the strong arms around him, rough fingertips touching his face, warm lips pressed gently to his forehead.

His heart began to pound with a feeling akin to panic. His eye twitched with the frustration of being so close, yet so far away from the answers to so many questions that he refused to ask. One way or another he was going to find those answers, damnit!

Just as quickly as the dream had entered his mind, it slipped away again. Leaving him with nothing more than a lingering feeling of loss and fatigue. He pulled himself from the bed, ignoring the house robe Bulma always lay out for him, and stepped out into the cold morning air.

Vegeta rested his elbows against the railing of the balcony, his hands folded beneath his chin. It was just now dawn, the sun barely peaking above the horizon, and the air was still and quiet.

He sighed heavily and turned his head down, pressing his forehead against his hands. He couldn’t remember the last decision that he’d made that he had given so much thought to. He couldn’t remember the last decision he’d made that he had cared to give so much thought to.

All this over a few feet of fur and flesh and bone. He hadn’t given his tail a second thought after the initial rage he felt over losing it. He had even begun to wonder if it inhibited the ascension to Super Saiyan. After all, there wasn’t a Super Saiyan who had one.

And he didn’t like where his thoughts were leading him. Vulnerable, shameful places he hadn’t visited in years. Times in his life before he had impenetrable emotional barriers and unshakable pride. There were times, and he even hated to admit it to himself, when he was unsure of who he was...what he stood for...

Zarbon used to delight in reminding the young prince that he was the ruler of nothing. That he was a soldier and a slave, just like every other Saiyan. Those statements were welcome compared to the ones that told him it meant nothing to be Saiyan. That he had spent more of his lifetime pressed into the mold of the aisujin warrior. The only thing Saiyan about him that remained was his tail. He was now one of them.

He had clung to his Saiyan identity as a means of separating himself from the life he'd been forced into. Given as a gift to a tyrant. He tried desperately to prove the honor of his kind...while the whole time cursing his father’s name. Hating the very life into which he'd been born.

Another sigh, and he lifted his face to look out into the sky. Kakkarot was living proof that beings are products of the environment. ‘Nature versus nurture’ was what the woman always said. And now his own children, so unlike how he imagined true Saiyans...

How he imagined...

Could it be that he no longer knew what it meant to be Saiyan? That he never knew what it meant to be Saiyan? It had to be more than just a tail that kept him from being an aisujin. That kept him from being human.

But what if it was?

What if ‘being Saiyan’ was only what Vegeta had wanted it to mean? What he thought it was? Every time Daikkon opened his mouth, there was one more fact that Vegeta had not known about his own race, about his culture, about his people. Could it be that all these years he belittled Kakkarot and even his own children for nothing except not being just like him?

He was the prince of Saiyans, but he only knew how to be himself.

He stood as he felt Bulma’s presence draw close to him. She slipped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his back.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she murmured.

“Couldn’t stay asleep,” he answered.

“Well, come back inside...it’s freezing out here.”

Bulma hopped back into the bed and held the covers open for him to slide in beside her. She ran her hands firmly over his skin to warm him up, but he caught them in his own and pulled her tightly against him.

“So,” she began, nuzzling against his throat. “What were you thinking about out there?”

Vegeta considered a moment before replying.

“My tail...” he began, slowly. “..I...am going to try...”

Bulma didn’t need him to finish his statement. She knew what he meant.

“What do you need from me to help?” she asked.

Vegeta stopped the grunt that rose in his throat before it made a sound. After all of his time with her, he knew such questions were rarely a reflection of her faith in him, merely her desire to see him succeed.

“Just time...” he answered. “...and...”

Bulma held her breath as she waited for him to finish.

“...and your support.”

A smile spread across her face, and she hugged him closer.

“And you have both,” she answered, “in abundance.”


It was half past noon when Trunks decided to spend some time in the lab. Goten had gone home almost an hour before, and Bulla didn’t need to be entertained for the moment.

Daikkon was working alone when the lavender-haired teen arrived.

“Prince,” Daikkon greeted.

“Good afternoon,” Trunks returned. “What are you working on today?”

Daikkon glanced back to the computer screen and smiled.

“I am chronicling as much Saiyan history as I can. It is a project your mother has asked of me.”

Trunks laughed.

“Leave it to Mom to ask for a task as mammoth as that. I can’t imagine how long that project will take.”

“I’ve broken it down into smaller tasks,” the older Saiyan explained. “Writing at different times about biology, culture, law...it breaks the monotony...”

“An impressive undertaking, still...” He considered a moment before asking, “Daikkon...do you think, aside from the other Saiyans that were on that ship...that there are more Saiyans out there?”

Daikkon’s eyebrows rose as he thought.

“I really don’t see why there wouldn’t be. Horenz only gathered, maybe, thirty or so men in the time that he looked...space is quite vast.”

Trunks nodded in agreement.

“You seem as though you have something on your mind, young prince,” Daikkon observed.

Trunks grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

“I’ve just been thinking, a lot lately, about...our people...” The words sounded strange to him as he spoke. “And...I mean, are there things that I should be doing? Things to honor my parents that I am not aware of?”

Daikkon shook his head as he answered.

“If your father wanted any such act from you, he would have instructed you...” He shrugged. “Your father is somewhat of an enigma, I am afraid. But his choices should not be questioned. Not only is he the rightful ruler of all Saiyans, but he is your sire.”

“I know,” Trunks spoke, staring blankly down at the floor as he thought. He didn’t want to admit to Daikkon that his father had really told him little about the Saiyan culture. He didn’t want to admit that lately he felt in an odd limbo between Human and Saiyan. “I would like to read what you have finished, if you don’t mind,” he said.

Daikkon nodded.

“Of course. My knowledge is at your disposal.”

Trunks settled at his work station and turned on his computer. His hands hovered over the keyboard a moment before he stopped and turned back to the other Saiyan.

“Thank you,” he began, “for telling my mother about the Ah-mek Dan. I appreciated it.”

Daikkon smiled.

“It was my pleasure to share that custom with you. Mr. Goten seemed quite amused by it.”

Trunks rolled his eyes, but grinned. The grin faded as the memory of their conversation came back to him.

“Daikkon, Goku will be okay, won’t he?” he asked. Daikkon gave an assured nod.

“As unusual as his condition seems, even to a Saiyan, it is what his body was designed to do. He is Saiyan. He is strong. And obviously has the support of many. He will be fine.”

Trunks nodded in agreement. Maybe Goku shouldn’t be the one he was worried about...

He felt his father’s ki spike sharply, and he felt his own rise in response. Both, just as quickly, returned to normal.

Trunks suddenly felt less like working and more like meeting up with his father to train. He looked down at his watch as he stood.

“I’m sorry, Daikkon. I didn’t mean to interrupt you and then take off, but I think maybe I will head in for lunch. You?”

“I am never adverse to a meal,” the other replied.

Trunks led the way out of the lab. He knew that his father was working on something important in the gravity unit as his mother had told him that Vegeta went in there at the break of dawn and left strict instructions to not be disturbed. Hopefully, the lure of lunch would bring the prince into the house as well. Trunks was feeling the need for some quality time with his dad.

A/N: Sorry this was so short. I had a hard time after writing the Ah-mek Dan chapters, but I promise that the next chapter will be much better when it is done! Hope you all enjoyed it!! - B°