Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Compromises ( Chapter 44 )

[ 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... ^-^


It had been two weeks since Vegeta had refused to fight with Goku. The two still met every other day for meditation and ki training. Despite Goku’s pleas for a reprieve, Vegeta had not changed his mind.

Goku was not, as of yet, desperate enough to ask one of his sons or his friends to spar. Nor was he desperate enough to blatantly attack the prince. But the more he thought about it, the more the latter idea seemed appealing.

It was a bit chilly that afternoon as Goku waited at their normal meeting place. The sun was directly overhead, casting a soothing warmth down onto him, but the wind had a bit of a bite.

“Kakkarot.” Goku turned as he was addressed. Vegeta was emerging from a thick growth of trees that surrounded the field.

“Hey,” Goku returned blandly.

“I’ve been giving your situation a lot of thought,” the prince continued. “And I think I have come up with a solution that will be advantageous to us both.”

Goku perked up at his words. Did this mean the prince would be sparring with him again?

“More fighting?” Goku asked hopefully.

Vegeta had a devious smile on his face as he nodded. It was then that Goku realized that Vegeta had not come alone.

“Hello, Bulla,” he greeted, a bit confused by the child’s presence.

“Hi, Uncle Goku!” she returned cheerfully.

Goku turned to the older Saiyan.

“I...I don’t understand.”

“I have been training Bulla in the basics of combat these last few weeks,” he explained, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You want to spar, she needs to practice. I believe the humans call that killing two birds with one stone.”

Goku furrowed his brow at the explanation, looking down at the smiling pre-teen.

“You’re teaching her...to fight?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. She’s been a very quick learner,” Vegeta said casually. “So, if you want to warm up...”

Happily, Bulla began stretching. Goku watched her a moment before shrugging and dropping down into a side lunge to stretch out his thighs.

Vegeta walked a good distance away from the pair before turning to observe them, arms folded across his chest.

“Whenever you’re ready!” he shouted.

Goku smiled warmly at Bulla.

“Are you ready?” he asked nicely.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, grinning in a way that made him slightly uneasy. Her eyes were alight with excitement. “My papa said I could hit you anywhere except your belly.”

Goku’s smile slowly faded. Never before had the eleven-year old looked more like a blue-haired, female version of her father. There was a moment of awe as she crouched down in the stance that was the trademark of the Saiyan prince. An offensive stance. She was going to attack.

“Don’t expect her to go easy on you!” Vegeta called, his tail absently soothing across a sore spot on his knee. “She’s ruthless,” Vegeta chuckled to himself as their battle began. Bulla was smaller and faster as Goku was still disadvantaged from shock.

Goku was surprised at her speed and, as Vegeta put it, her ruthlessness. She struck at every opportunity she had, fearlessly, with all the exuberance of a novice fighter. The third class began to simply dodge her strikes. A part of him wanted to fight back, but another part didn’t want to hurt her. She was Saiyan, after all, he tried to reason. But she was also just a little girl!

“Ouch!” Goku shouted, squatting down to rub his injured knee. He heard Vegeta’s bark of laughter but kept his eyes on the princess, who had leapt back after her first successful blow and crouched, waiting.

“I warned you!” Vegeta spoke smugly.

Goku narrowed his eyes and scowled, shaking off the pain. He resumed his defensive posture and waited for her next strike.

Vegeta turned his attention from the battle to the two approaching ki signatures. Within moments, Trunks and Goten were at his side.

“Holy Hell!!” Goten shouted, amused. “Bulla is beating the shit outta my dad!”

“He’s reluctant to strike," Vegeta mused. “He wouldn’t last thirty minutes on Koroba.”

“What’s on Koroba?” Trunks asked.

“Let’s just say,” Vegeta replied sourly, “that they all look like little girls.”

Trunks and Goten exchanged amused looks, both imagining Vegeta on a planet of children. Then Trunks frowned, looking back at his father who was now watching the progress of the fight. Could that have been a planet he had to purge?

Vegeta glanced back at his son. Trunks could have sworn that the twitch of his cheek was something akin to a smile of reassurance. It made the half-Saiyan smile.

“Damn!” Goku’s voice rang out across the clearing as he dropped to rub his other knee.

“Show’em who’s boss, Bulla!” Goten called with laughter in his voice.

Bulla’s head snapped around, her eyes meeting the two new arrivals. Her blush would have been noticeable if she had not already been flushed from exertion. She smiled.

“Hi Trunks! Hi Goten!” She waved to her brother and his best friend. “How am I doing? Papa’s been teaching me!”

“You’re doing great, kiddo!” Trunks called back encouragingly. “But never take your eyes off your-”

“AHH!”

Goku had taken the opportunity to rush her, sweeping the young lady off her feet and tossing her effortlessly over his shoulder.

“Victory!” he shouted as she beat her fists against his back.

“You no good, dirty cheater!” she raged. “That wasn’t fair!"

Goku laughed, depositing the pouting princess in front of her father.

“All is fair in battle,” Vegeta warned her. “You dropped your guard; he took advantage of the weakness.”

Bulla grimaced, but nodded in understanding.

“So,” Goku said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. “You next?”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Goku frowned.

“I’ll spar with you, Uncle Goku,” Trunks offered.

“Great!” Goku perked up almost instantaneously and turned back toward the field.

“Did I do alright, Papa...until the end part?” Bulla asked.

“You did very well,” he replied, gaining a smile from her. Goten grinned as the pre-teen slipped her hand into her father’s, but Vegeta kept his eyes on the fight.

“Will you be sparring today?” the older Saiyan asked the teen. Goten shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I feel comfortable fighting with my dad when he’s...ya know..”

“You would think that his stomach would be soft,” Bulla mused. “But it’s actually kind of hard.” She looked up at her father. “I didn’t hit it on purpose,” she added quickly. Vegeta addressed Goten again.

“Maybe you should spar with Trunks then. Or you can take your chance with the girl.”

Goten smiled at Bulla, who grinned back.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for her,” he stated.

“Don’t paper the child’s vanity,” Vegeta remarked dryly.

“Right,” Goten agreed, suppressing a grin. “That’s your job.”

“You’ve been around a lot these last couple of days,” Vegeta began abruptly. “Don’t you have things to occupy your time?”

Goten sighed heavily and put his hands behind his head.

“Not really. Trunks is busy with all his lab stuff, and...and I broke up with my girlfriend.”

Vegeta’s eyes darted down to the tiny hand that had for a fraction of a second tightened in his, but Bulla was watching the fight.

“You don’t say?” he spoke, looking back up.

“Yeah. But oh well. C’est la vie...”

Vegeta gave a short nod.

“Hé oui.”

Goten’s eyes became wide, and he stared at the prince for a moment before he broke into a broad smile.

“You are my freakin’ idol, Uncle Vegeta!” he exclaimed. “You know freakin’ everything!”

“Calm down, boy,” Vegeta remarked in an annoyed tone, embarrassed by the praise. “Earth languages are nothing to learn when you have lived out in the universe. Look.” He pulled Bulla’s hand to place it in Goten’s. “Watch the girl; I’m going to hunt.”

Goten nodded, but continued to smile.


“Hi, sweetie,” Bulma greeted Yamucha with a kiss on the cheek. “What brings you by?”

“Not much,” he replied, stripping out of his coat as she shut the door behind him. “I was just over at Goku’s, but Chi Chi says he’s out with Vegeta today.”

“Training,” Bulma laughed. “Although Goku had already complained about it not being training so much as sitting. Poor thing. I guess Vegeta can’t stomach the idea of fighting with a pregnant Saiyan.”

“I don’t blame him,” Yamucha said, following her into the kitchen. “It’s just...weird. I’d die if he asked me to spar. I don’t know if I could do it.”

“You are all mean,” Bulma admonished, placing a coffee cup in front of him. “That would be like telling me when I was pregnant that I couldn’t work in the lab or...” she leered. Yamucha rolled his eyes.

“Well, he’ll get over it.”

“But he has almost twenty-one more weeks left!” she exclaimed, sitting next to him at the table. “He’ll be miserable for the rest of his pregnancy - or rather,” she mused, “at least up to the point where he is miserable simply because he is so pregnant.”

Yamucha shook his head.

“He’s doing a lot better than I would be in his place. I would...I don’t know...I was going to say drink the whole time...but I guess I couldn’t do that...”

Bulma rolled the cup between her palms as she thought.

“Goku needs more reasons to be happy about this baby,” she spoke. “To celebrate it before he’s overwhelmed with diapers and bottles and whatnot...”

Yamucha broke in.

“So, will it be bottles?...I mean, “ his face reddened, “what do you feed a Saiyan baby?”

“I don’t know,” Bulma shrugged. “I breastfed mine until they could start eating raw meat - which wasn’t very long.” Yamucha grimaced. “I’m joking. I’ll have to ask Daikkon. But I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked uneasily.

“Babies,” she answered. “Or baby showers, to be more precise.”

Yamucha was stone faced.

“What?”

“Baby showers,” she repeated. “You know, friends, games, gifts...it will be fun!” She clapped her hands together. “Goku can be happy about his baby, and we can all get together like he likes.”

Yamucha did not appear convinced, watching her cross to pick up the phone before returning to the table.

“Bulma, I know you’re a genius and all...but no man wants a baby shower.”

“Hush,” she warned. “It’s a great idea. You’ll see.”

She dialed a number and set the phone to speaker. A familiar, jovial voice answered.

“Hel-lo!”

“Hi ,Krillin!” Bulma returned. “It’s Bulma and Yamucha.”

“Hey,” Yamucha added flatly.

“Oh, hey guys. What’s up?”

“Not much,” Bulma answered. “We were just talking, and we had a great idea.”

“Not my idea!” Yamucha was quick to add.

“Hush,” she repeated. “Anyway, a great idea.”

“Great,” Krillin said. “What is it?”

Bulma smiled widely even though he could not see her.

“A baby shower for Goku!”

There was silence on the other end for a moment before the ex-monk spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Bulma...I think you lost service for a second there...”

“I’m not on a cell, you moron,” she said harshly. “You heard me perfectly!”

“No,” he clarified. “I heard you say ‘baby shower for Goku,’ and I know you couldn’t possibly have said that.”

“Why not?” She was becoming exasperated. “He’s having a baby! He deserves a shower!”

“Are we having a baby shower?”

Yamucha and Bulma looked up as they were joined in the dining room by Mrs. Briefs.

“Yes,” Bulma stated firmly. “For Goku.”

“How nice!” Mrs. Briefs commented. “We can play shower games.” Yamucha put his head on the table.

“And then Vegeta can incinerate our dead carcasses when Goku slays us,” he moaned.

“Oh, please!” Bulma snapped. “No one said anything about Vegeta being there.”

“But you’re going to make us go?” Krillin asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “Because we are Goku’s friends and we love him and he deserves presents and food, damnit!” She did not receive any resistance after that statement. “Look, Mom and I will take care of everything. I just need you all to buy a gift and show up.”

“What are we supposed to buy?” Yamucha demanded. Bulma turned blazing eyes his way.

“Bottles! Onesies! Diapers! I don’t give a damn! Baby stuff!”

“Bulma,” Krillin said calmly. “I love you like a sister, so please don’t take this the wrong way. You are insane if you think a bunch of single, childless warriors are going to know on their own what to buy for a baby shower. I have a child, and I’m still not sure what I would get.”

“Rub in it...” Yamucha grumbled. Bulma considered his words.

“Fine. We’ll register somewhere.”

“That will be fun!” Mrs. Briefs stated. Yamucha frowned.

“Goku will not walk around a baby store and register for gifts. He hates shopping, and he will hate the idea of a baby shower.”

“He will love a baby shower!” Bulma insisted. “But you’re right. We should make it a surprise. I will see what he wants, but I won’t tell him we are picking out gifts...”

“Way to go, bro,” Krillin said dryly. Yamucha let his head fall back onto the table.

“Oh! This will be great!” Bulma announced. Mrs. Briefs squealed in delight.

“Oooh! We’ll need decorations and invitations and party favors! I haven’t planned a shower since before Bulla was born. Oh honey, how I wish you had had more children!”

“Mom,” Bulma groaned. “It’s fine that you bug me with that spiel, but please don’t mention it to Vegeta anymore. I think he really might just kill you this time.”

Her mother giggled.

“But he finally got busy and made another one now, didn’t he?” she asked. Both Bulma and Yamucha turned slightly green, and there was a faint gurgling sound coming from the phone.

“Uh....anyway...” Bulma said when she recovered. “Definitely don’t mention that to him. I don’t want to have to arrange a funeral and a baby shower.”

Mrs. Briefs continued to smile and left the room.

"So..." Bulma addressed the other two. “Look. Just make sure you are there. And let it be known that if there is one person who doesn’t RSVP, I will personally track them down. Not matter how far in the desert, not matter how deep in the ocean, not matter how high in the sky. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yamucha agreed.

“Sure,” Krillin added, resigned.

“Good.” She smiled then. “I’m going to work on it. Please be looking for your invites. Bye, Krillin.”

“Bye...”

Bulma snapped the phone off and smiled smugly at Yamucha before standing and leaving the room.

Yamucha couldn’t believe he agreed to this. He couldn’t imagine how this would turn out. He felt trapped.

And even though they were miles apart, Krillin felt they were both in the same boat.



After three hours of sparring that eventually became, much to Goku’s delight and amusement, a free-for-all, the three exhausted younger Saiyans headed for home.

Vegeta hunted for an hour after he had left, and returned with a large buck slung over his shoulder. He had skinned and prepared it for cooking leisurely as he watched the end of the fight. All three of their children turned down the opportunity to partake of the fresh kill, opting instead to go home, shower and eat a meal that had not just been alive that day.

Goku lay in the grass outside the usual cave, staring up into the blue sky and listening to the crackling of the fire on which Vegeta was searing the venison steaks. Goku felt pleasantly satisfied. Maybe the spar was not as challenging as it would have been against the prince, but it sure had been fun.

“Here.” Vegeta interrupted his thoughts, passing him a steak skewered on a large stick.

“Thanks!” Goku accepted the meal, sitting up. They ate in silence for a moment before Goku spoke. “Bulla really is a quick learner. She would have been awesome if she had been trained earlier.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” Vegeta wanted to snap, or to reply with: “She had never shown an inclination until now”. But at times in their youth, Trunks and Goten had shown no inclination, and Vegeta had trained them anyway. So he remained silent, and Goku continued.

“She sure is a little spit-fire,” he chuckled. “An even mix of you and Bulma. You must be so proud.” Vegeta gave a curt not of assent. Goku’s expression became curious as he watched the prince. “Vegeta...”

The prince looked up at him.

“I was thinking...” He laughed again. “And it’s a little embarrassing...” A slight blush rose up his neck and colored his ears as he continued. “Me, I always refer to the baby as ‘he’. It never really occurred to me that it could be a girl...until I mentioned to Gohan that I only had sons...but I guess...well....you have a daughter.”

“What is your point, Kakkarot?” Vegeta asked testily.

Goku shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with a little girl. I mean, I have a granddaughter, but I didn’t do any of her raising...” He shrugged again. “I just wouldn’t know what to do.”

Vegeta stared contemplatively into the fire. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but conversational.

“It is a different - unique - feeling, having a daughter...”

Goku stared at him as he spoke. It was always an intense moment when Vegeta spoke of matters personal to himself.

“But,” he added sharply, coming back to his usual demeanor, “boy or girl, you will not want it to be any different after you see it for the first time.”

“Is that how you felt about Bulla?” Goku asked. Vegeta’s eye twitched slightly.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked.

Goku shook his head.

“No kind...Just, I dunno, were you wanting a girl? Or a boy?”

“Why are you so damned insistent on delving into my personal affairs?” the prince demanded.

Goku felt an inexplicable surge of anger pulse though him, and he shouted back before he could control it.

“Because friends share personal stories, Vegeta!”

By the way the older Saiyan’s eyes widened momentarily before slowly relaxing into a narrow stare, Goku could tell that he was just as surprised by the outburst. Vegeta glared at him for a tense moment. Finally, he gave a displeased sigh and spoke.

“I was not concerned about its sex. It’s health was all that mattered.”

Goku let out the breath he had been holding and nodded.

“Right.”

He looked down at himself and ran a hand over his belly.

“I guess that is how I feel.” Hesitantly, he continued. “Do...do you not care either way now?”

Vegeta watched the younger man, who kept his eyes downcast. He knew he wanted reassurance, something to ease whatever was causing the slight scent of something so close to fear that was emanating from him as the third class’s tail twisted in agitation.

Vegeta grimaced. Goku was the strongest being in the universe, quite possibly in existence. Why was he so desperate for the prince’s approval?

“About the gender, I do not care,” Vegeta spoke. “As for its health, that is my primary concern.”

Goku looked back up at him and gave a small smile. Self-consciously, Vegeta looked away.

“I’ve been thinking of names, because Bulma said that would give me something to think about that was positive...”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and gave him a slightly disinterested look.

“And?”

“Well, I haven’t come up with many that I like...It’s a lot harder than you would think...” Goku felt his heart begin to beat a little faster at the prospect of having such a personal conversation with Vegeta. And Vegeta had actually solicited his response. “I like the name Mamoru...and Benjiro...” He sighed. “But for no reason other than that they are just nice names...without seeing the baby, I really can’t tell what he, um, or she, should be called. I mean, I named Gohan after my grandfather...he seemed to like to be called that...and Chi Chi named Goten...I don’t have any other family to name him after - oh, except for Radditz, I guess...” He smirked. “But I don’t think he really endeared himself to my family enough to earn me naming a child after him.”

“No child of mine is going to be named after a third class moron like Radditz,” Vegeta said with a snort of disgust. Goku tried not to smile.

“What would you name him?”

Vegeta felt uncomfortable with the question.

“I...” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree behind him. “It doesn’t matter to me. Just as long as he is not named after Radditz.”

Goku chuckled but nodded in agreement, but added in a wistful tone.

“I wish I knew what my parents’ names were...”

“Radditz was the son of Bardock and Ahnzu,” Vegeta told him. “I believe you are as well. Your file never mentioned you having different parents.”

“Bardock and Ahnzu...” Goku repeated quietly, a small part of him wishing now to put faces with those names, but he knew that was impossible. He looked back to Vegeta. “What were your parents’ names?” As soon as the question was past his lips, he wished he could take it back, as Vegeta got quickly to his feet.
“I do not have time for any more idle chatter, Kakkarot. Name the child whatever you see fit. I would, however, rather you not name it after anyone who is not worthy of such an honor.”

“I won’t,” Goku assured him, getting up as well. “But do you have to go? I mean, we can talk about something else.”

Vegeta looked at him, curiously. Again, he was struck with the question of why Kakkarot would want to spend time with him, share with him and...be his friend.

Goku felt uneasy as the prince stared at him. He couldn’t tell if his expression was one of disgust or bewilderment.

“I don’t have any more time today,” he said gruffly.

“Okay. Tomorrow, then.”

Goku appeared visibly hopeful as he spoke. It made Vegeta uncomfortable.

Without answering, Vegeta turned and walked away from the other Saiyan. He put several feet between them before speaking.

“Tomorrow, Kakkarot.”

Goku didn’t know what he meant by that exactly, but at least it was something.


Bulma turned off the bathroom light as she passed into the bedroom, stepping over her husband who was somewhere in the two hundred count of his pushups. She picked up her lotion bottle off the night table and squeezed out a small amount to rub into her elbows, taking that time to admire the way the prince’s muscles flexed and contracted beneath his tanned skin.

“How was training?” she asked, fluffing up the pillows and laying back, still keeping her eyes on him.

“Fine,” he grunted, not faltering in his steady rise and fall.

“Bulla seems really pleased with herself,” Bulma continued. “And she seems really happy to be getting to spend so much time with you.”

“I can’t say that I don’t find the situation agreeable myself,” Vegeta replied. Bulma smiled.

“So, is that why you and Daikkon are reworking the regen tank? Because Bulla’s training?”

Vegeta sank down to the floor and paused a moment. He let his knees hit the floor and pushed himself up into a kneeling position.

“She is very young and inexperienced. It is a precaution,” he explained.

“I know she’s inexperienced,” Bulma agreed, “and I know I could never really get the tank to ‘regenerate’ so much as ‘refresh’...but do you really need to rebuild it? She is Saiyan, after all.”

Vegeta raised his arms and began to stretch out his muscles as he considered her point.

“True, she is Saiyan. However, she is a half Saiyan child sparring with full Saiyan adults, in the case of Kakkarot and myself. If she were to become inadvertently injured, it would not be acceptable for her to bear any wounds. It would also be inconvenient to explain, should she be asked about them.”

“Ah,” Bulma remarked, with a grin. “So Daddy is having a hard time beating up on his little girl because he can’t fix her if she gets hurt.”

Vegeta grimaced. Bulma laughed.

“Do you think she is less resilient than Trunks?”

“No,” Vegeta stated. “But explaining bruises on a rambunctious boy to a nosy school authority is a lot easier than explaining them on a normally delicate appearing girl.” Bulma shrugged.

“You have a point,” she conceded. “That’s awfully sweet of you to go through all of this trouble, though.”

Vegeta hesitated a moment before answering, as if assessing her statement.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

“And how did your extra training with Goku go?” she asked next. Vegeta was in the process of getting to his feet when she asked, and he came to a halt.

“We didn’t train today,” he replied.

“Why not?” Bulma asked. “I mean, you already stopped sparring with him. Are you trying to drive him insane?”

Vegeta scowled.

“It is he who is driving me insane. We might have gotten to train, had the buffoon not been more insistent on asking me personal questions!”

“Oh,” Bulma chuckled. “Personal questions? Like what?”

Vegeta stood.

“I’m not interested in repeating.”

Bulma shook her head, feeling halfway between amusement and irritation.

“Goku does not overstep the boundaries with questions that are too personal,” she remarked. “I’m sure it’s not like he asked you if you prefer giving over receiving...or something like, if you have a bowel movement every day.”

“Don’t be vulgar!” the prince snapped, clearly mortified by her words and the thought of anyone asking such questions.

“So what did he ask?” Bulma insisted.

“Things that are none of his business!” Vegeta retorted. “How I felt about my children! My parents’ names!”

Bulma stared at him, unblinking.

“Well,” she said seriously. “Call. The. Papers.” Vegeta frowned. Bulma continued, waving her hands around animatedly. “Why, there are probably thousands of people unwittingly offending others every day with such questions that are clearly a heinous invasion of matters of an intimately personal nature.”

“Don’t mock me,” he growled. Bulma sighed.

“Don’t be an ass. Goku was probably only trying to get you to talk about the baby. Don’t make him feel like he is alone in this!”

“His banshee of a wife and his family are with him, not to mention his loser friends,” Vegeta grumbled, flinging back the sheets on his side of the bed.

“Banshee?” Bulma asked. “Well, at least that is a new one.” Vegeta gave a grunt of annoyance as he lay down. “Damn it, honey, you know what I mean! He wants you to be a part of this with him. This is hard for him.”

“Need I remind you,” the prince said coolly, “that it was not my idea that he keep it.”

Bulma’s face became menacingly stern.

“Need I remind you that you are damn lucky that anyone has been forgiving enough to put that opinion of yours behind them.”

Vegeta didn’t respond to the comment, but kept his lips pressed together as if forcing himself not to speak.

“Look,” Bulma said, her voice returning to its normal tone. “I love you. But you have got to quit acting like this, Vegeta.” She sat up on her knees and turned to face him. He stared back at her, his arms folded beneath his head. “We’ve been together a long time now,” she said gently. “I know that there is a beautiful person inside of you, even when all you show is a hateful prick. I’ve been satisfied with knowing who you are when everyone else thought I was crazy to love you. And they have come to know how good you can be even when you pretend you are not. It is not going to kill you to be friendly and open up to these people who have come to care about you after all these years.”

“They don’t care about me,” Vegeta scoffed. “They care about you and the children, but I don’t need their friendship. You cannot make me believe that they want to give it.”

Bulma frowned.

“Well, Goku wants to be your friend.” She was quiet a moment before amending her statement. “No...Goku is your friend.” Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “He just wants you to be his.”

Vegeta felt uncomfortable in the silence that followed.

It was ridiculous. Kakkarot had many friends. He didn’t need one like him. He voiced as much to Bulma.

“What would an immaculate being such as Kakkarot want with a cold hearted fiend such as myself?” he asked.

Bulma exhaled a heavy sigh and settled onto her hip, wearily.

“You are always telling Goku that he needs to be more Saiyan, act more Saiyan...but you never take the time to show him or tell him what that is. He was raised on Earth, honey. He looks to you as a connection to his people. And like me, Goku knows what you have lived through and is happy and proud that you were able to overcome so much that he knows many others might not have survived. He looks up to you. He respects you.” She sighed again. “You may not deserve it lately. But we know that you are capable of behaving in a way that would make you deserve it. You’ve come so close to fucking it up so many times...I would not tempt fate, Vegeta. Swallow your pride and your fucking jealousy and take a step forward. You don’t have far to go...you’ve been met more than halfway.”

She placed a hand gently on his bare chest, her fingers gently tracing the small circular scar above his left nipple. It always reminded her of how much she desperately wanted him to truly live.

“Don’t you care that it hurts me...when you are hurting...and you do it to yourself, Vegeta...”

Vegeta sat up and pulled her into his arms. He didn’t know how to respond to her. But she was right. She always believed in the best that was inside of him, even when he did his best to keep it hidden. He was selfish and proud....

And jealous.

His jealousy of Kakkarot’s strength and achievements was the main reason he had always acted as though only he knew why he, prince of Saiyans, was so much better than everyone else.

“You are always at the front of my mind,” he insisted. Bulma sighed and pulled away from him. She lay down and turned away from him.

“It doesn’t always seem that way...”

Vegeta stared down at her for a moment as she settled to sleep.

“You can’t truly think about others,” she continued, “until you stop thinking about yourself. You have ‘you’ on your mind so much, I’m surprised you can think of anything else. I used to think you only thought about Goku...but then I realized you only thought about what he had that ‘you’ wanted."

“That’s not true,” Vegeta replied. But as he said the words, he knew they were untrue.

“Good night, sweetheart,” she said, ignoring him. “I love you.”

Vegeta frowned, laying down beside her and staring at the ceiling. Bulma waited a moment for his response. When nothing came, she reached out to turn off the lamp, relaxed against the bed and fell asleep.

Vegeta lay in the darkness, mulling over her words. Was he acting in such a manner that even Bulma could doubt his true feelings? Was he taking steps back toward his old ways, instead of steps toward the bright future that his woman had always represented to him? Why was it so hard to just let go?

Vegeta turned to the sleeping figure of his wife at his side and whispered to her, even though she could not hear him.

“...I love you, too...”

A/N: I hope you all liked this chapter. I'm looking forward to writing the baby shower scene, but I think it might be several chapters away. Anyway, thank you all for reading! I am off to write more!!