Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Secrets ( Chapter 57 )

[ 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... ^-^


Vegeta returned to Capsule Corp at dawn, but was once again called to the Son house at dusk. The following day both Bulma and Dr. Clarke examined the newborn to rule out medical reasons for his tears, and both came to the same conclusion as Goku: he simply wanted to be held by his father.

“Has anyone considered,” Goten asked as everyone was gathered in the Sons' living room, “that maybe he is uncomfortable? Like... growing pains? He is getting awful big, awful fast.”

“That is a possibility,” Bulma replied, giving the blonde baby in her lap a quick hug. “However, if that were true, he would cry even if Vegeta was holding him, and Ninji would be in the same discomfort. So it’s probably not growing pains.”

“Maybe he is afraid to cry when I am holding him,” Vegeta said dryly, before turning to stare out the window he was leaning against. Bulma gave an incredulous smirk, turning in her seat enough to give the baby a clear view of his father. The blonde prince gurgled happily, and his honey-colored tail stretched beckoningly toward his the prince.

“Doubtful,” Bulma stated.

Goku frowned, looking down at Ninji in his arms.

“You don’t think they could be in pain, do you, Bulma?” he asked. The boys had done a considerable bit of growing in their short lives. Even though only days old, they had the appearance and activity level of babies closer to a month old.

“No,” Bulma assured him. “We have to take into account that this rate of growth is normal for Saiyans. They are designed to grow this fast.”

“Well, I hope they have an easier time of it than I did when I was eleven,” Goten said with a laugh. “’Cause that was insane!”

Chi Chi entered the room with a tea tray and set in onto the coffee table next to her son.

“You grew three inches that summer,” she reminded him, pouring tea into a cup. “And a good thing, too, or you would never have been taller than your mother.” She stirred a teaspoon of sugar into the steaming brew and took it over to Vegeta, offering it to him without a word. The prince took the cup, murmuring a ‘thank you’ and turning back toward the window.

“If little Veji likes to be held by Papa,” Bulla spoke up, snapping up a cookie from the tray, “why doesn’t Uncle Goku use Papa’s soap so they smell the same? He does smell really good.”

Bulma tried to suppress a giggle, and Vegeta choked on his tea, feeling the hot beverage hit his nostrils before he could speak.

“If that were the case, Bulla,” he said, “he would not be reacting to such a superficial scent... and don’t call him ‘Veji’.”

“I think ‘Veji’ is cute,” the young girl replied, leaning onto Bulma’s knee and rubbing her nose against the baby’s. “Right, Veji?”

The group laughed at both her humor and her sheer nerve while Vegeta frowned.

“Well,” Goten announced, standing, “I have to go pick up some paperwork for school. I’ll see y'all later. You coming with me, Trunks?”

“Sure,” the older teen replied, pulling himself from his seat.

“Don’t stay out all day,” Chi Chi told her youngest son. “Your brother is coming over for dinner tonight.”

“Right,” Goten said, passing his mother on the way to the door so he could stop to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Can I go, too?” Bulla asked quickly, before the boys had a chance to leave. Goten and Trunks looked to Vegeta for an answer. Bulla looked to her father as well. “Please may I, Papa?”

Vegeta felt a slightly sick feeling at the idea, but knew he couldn’t let the past rule him.

“Don’t you think you should ask them if you can tag along?” he asked her.

Bulla turned to Goten and grinned.

“Please?”

“C’mon, girl!” Goten laughed. “Let’s go.”

The three left together and got into Goten’s older car.

“Buckle up,” Trunks reminded his sister as Goten started the ignition.

“Why aren’t you driving your new car, Goten?” Bulla asked as she pulled her seat belt into place.

“Oh,” he replied, giving her a wink in the rear view mirror, “I like this one better.”

Bulla smiled.

“But the other one is way cooler.”

Goten chuckled, giving a shrug.

“I dunno about cooler... but sometimes there are things more important than being cool.”

“Look who’s becoming so mature,” Trunks teased, giving Goten a pinch on the cheek.

“Watch it! I’m driving here!” the younger teen snapped, but continued to smile.

Bulla leaned as far forward as her seat belt would allow to get closer to the two.

“Can we go to the mall, too?” she asked.

“Whatever pleases you, princess!” Goten assured. Trunks rolled his eyes.

“Don’t inflate her ego any more than it is,” he groaned.

Bulla sat back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. Trunk turned, afraid his words had hurt her feelings.

“I’m just teasing, Bulla,” he said. Bulla cocked her head to the side and spoke in a contemplative tone.

“We haven’t been out without Mama or Papa since that day.”

Trunks turned slowly back to Goten and could see his friend looking at his sister in the mirror.

“That day the Saiyans came...” she continued, “and took us so they could tell Papa and Uncle Goku that they could have a baby...” She frowned as she considered her words. “What idiots.”

Goten placed the car into ‘hover’ and turned in his seat.

“Is that what your dad told you?” he asked.

“Goten,” Trunks said sternly, “you cannot hover in a city designated skyway.”

“We’re in the sticks!” Goten exclaimed. “There is no traffic here.” He turned back to the preteen. “Is that what your dad told you?” he asked again.

Trunks bit his lip as he waited for her to answer.

“Yeah,” she replied, giving them both odd looks. “Those Saiyans told Papa and Uncle Goku that Goku could carry Saiyan babies, so they mixed their DNA and put the babies in Uncle Goku. Didn’t you know that?”

Trunks looked amazed and shocked by her answer.

“Papa... told you that?” he asked, stunned.

Bulla grimaced, remembering back to that day her father had explained the situation.

“Papa said that he and Uncle Goku did not make love to make Ninji and Veji. And how else do you get pregnant without doing that? Artificial insemination,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Goten groaned.

“Oh, Bulla --” Before he could continue, Trunks broke in.

“Goten, this is my father’s business...” Goten frowned, but gave a nod of understanding. Bulla continued to watch the teens with curiosity.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing, sport,” Goten replied, turning back around and putting the car back into ‘fly.’ “Nothing at all...”


Bulma and Vegeta left the Sons’ house shortly after the three younger Saiyans. Bulma gave her husband a quick kiss on the lips after he landed them in front of Capsule Corp, and then retreated to her lab to leave him to his training. Daikkon was busy typing up one of the many documents she had asked of him, and she pulled up a chair to settle at his side.

“What are you working on?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette. Daikkon paused in his work to answer.

“I am writing about what I can remember of the royal family’s history... I was taking a break from ‘rituals and ceremonies’.”

Bulma smiled, exhaling a wisp of smoke.

“Like Vegeta’s mother and father?”

Daikkon nodded.

“And the other great kings and queens in his lineage... the royal guard and advisers... they were all integral to the royal house.”

“Saiyans surprise me more and more every day,” she told him, relaxing back into her chair. “Vegeta always told me that Saiyans were solitary creatures, but here we find out they have such a rich society and community life... It’s a shame to have lost it.”

The young Saiyan nodded in agreement.

“But our way of life was being eradicated before our planet was destroyed,” he explained. “Frieza and his followers made sure of that. My father told my mother many sad tales of our home world under the Aisujins' control.”

Bulma pulled an ashtray toward herself and tapped the excess ashes from her cigarette.

“How did your mom come to be on a planet so far away?” she asked.

“Ah... it is one of the sad, but smart, decisions made by the late king, Vegeta’s grandfather. Saiyans with below average power levels -- below average for a Saiyan, mind you -- were sent off world to non-combative, pacific planets. This was early in the days of the Aisujin threat to our planet, when King Cold and his sons only had a passing interest in our people.”

“So the less powerful Saiyans were sent to conquer these planets while the stronger stayed to protect Vegeta?” Bulma inquired. Daikkon shook his head.

“That was merely a facade. Now, I’m not saying that Saiyans did not do our fair share of planet brokering, but we had little need for outside exposure beyond our own planet. Our race was not too many in number, nowhere near Earth’s populace, and we were quite self-sufficient. But those who came to conquer us were not tolerated. Those were the worlds that we seized and sold.”

“So... quiet until someone came to fuck with you, huh?” she commented, tapping her cigarette once more against the tray. “No wonder the Aisujin didn’t give you their immediate attention.”

“No,” he admitted sadly. “”We were never a threat to them. We were just another tool.”

Bulma gave a smirking smile.

“No threat until they met Goku.”

Daikkon nodded.

“Yes. Quite an amazing man. The young prince -- or should I now just say ‘Prince Trunks’ -- told me of the many grand battles that this planet has seen. If you do not mention that I said so, I think that it is an excellent match, by Saiyan standards, in his majesty and Mr. Goku. The twins should be supremely strong and intelligent leaders.”

Bulma shrugged and extinguished her cigarette.

“I won’t say that you said,” she laughed. “Not that it should be repeated. I just hope that the twins will fit in here as well as the others. Yes, they are full-blooded Saiyan royalty... but that won’t help them here on earth. They don’t have any subjects.”

“They will have me,” Daikkon stated. “So long as I am needed.”

Bulma smiled at him before rising from her chair.

“So your mother was sent to one of these peaceful planets?” she asked, returning to their original subject. “If not to conquer, then what?”

“For protection,” the younger man answered. “The king had known what the Cold empire was doing to other civilizations, and he didn’t want the Saiyan people to be put in the position of being obliterated in one attack. He sent some to live off planet in hopes of scattering our race. As a proud king, he believed in our ability to triumph. But as a wise man, he also prepared for the worst. After the Cold empire ‘employed’ the Saiyans, we lost some numbers in various battles that were used to test our strength. That is when those with below average power levels were really sent to conquer weaker worlds.”

“Boy,” Bulma sighed, leaning against the desk, her fingers absently spinning her lighter against the cool, metal surface. “Those must have been really hard times for everyone...”

“Yes,” Daikkon agreed. “But there was still quite a bit of optimism. My mother knew there were others. And then there were the rumors of his majesty’s survival...”

“A planet that far out had Vegeta in its gossip mill?” Bulma asked, amused.

“In the universe at large, your husband is famous,” Daikkon replied soberly. “Or rather... infamous.”

Bulma frowned. She didn’t want to hear about the rumors of Vegeta’s exploits. She knew enough about his past, and that is where she preferred to keep it: in the past. Some might say that she was just denying it. She knew it wasn’t denial, but forgiveness. And she knew she didn’t have to justify that to anyone.

“So...” she began, trying to keep the conversation moving. “What are the natives of your planet like, besides peaceful? Were they hospitable to you and your mom?”

“Oh, yes,” Daikkon replied, watching Bulma as she moved to her own desk. “My mother was raised by an elderly couple who lived quite a distance from any large populace. Those in the city were wary of her different appearance at first, but were warmer once they got to know her. I was always treated kindly, and the people found our talents particularly useful.”

“You mentioned your mother was a midwife.” Bulma smiled. “And a carpenter?”

Daikkon returned the smile.

“Yes. She learned her trades from her adoptive parents. My ‘grandparents’.”

“She must have been popular with many people, having so many talents,” Bulma observed.

Daikkon appeared thoughtful a moment before he replied.

“My mother earned a great deal of respect, but was somewhat intimidating in her directness... she did not believe in ‘sugarcoating’ things.”

“Ah,” Bulma remarked. “No wonder you became the little diplomat.”

Daikkon shook his head in amusement, turning back to his computer.

“I was proud of her straightforward manner, but it may have cost her an opportunity to form closer relationships.” He gave a short laugh before finishing. “She used to often say that she wished my father had taken a second spouse before he died, to help raise me and keep her company... to give us a greater sense ofclan. But then she would go on to say that he could have never found anyone on our home planet, as she never did after his death...”

Bulma stared blankly at the back of the younger man’s head as he went back to his work.

“I’m sorry, Daikkon,” she interrupted, “but did you just say that your mother wanted your father to take another for his wife? She was joking, right?”

Daikkon turned back to face her.

“Well...she never said ‘wife’ specifically, if you are referring to a female,” he answered. “She always used the Saiyan term ‘shoume,’ which is a gender neutral term.”

Bulma blinked.

“Uh... that’s not what confused me... however, it does raise other questions,” she replied. “But what I mean is: your mother wanted your father to have a spouse other than her?”

Daikkon considered Bulma’s words.

“Of course not,” he responded, causing her to sigh with relief. “Not ‘other than,’ but ‘in addition to’.” Bulma’s look of surprise returned.

“Saiyans had multiple spouses?” she asked outright.

He nodded.

“More so before Frieza’s occupation of our planet, when our numbers were greater. But those who had the resources to care for a second spouse often did, if they were fortunate enough to find another with whom they could form such an intimate bond.”

Bulma continued to stare at him in disbelief. Daikkon gave her a warm smile.

“From what I gather, humans consider themselves a monogamous race.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I mean, I know in some ancient cultures, some people had many wives. But today that is not accepted... by the majority of people.”

The younger man gave a slight frown.

“I wonder why not...” he mused aloud. Bulma gave a snort of amusement.

“Why not? Because there is no reason for a man to have five or six wives just as an excuse to get sex from five or six women.” Daikkon’s frown deepened.

“I should say not. But I would assume that men such as those do not have an adequate understanding of the true sanctity of marriage. I’m not saying that such occurrences might not be unheard of amongst Saiyans, but such disrespectful behavior is frowned upon. A warrior who commits to another is honor bound to show respect fortheir union. No one would want the dishonor of mistreating one they have taken as a mate. It is certainly not the way of a true clan.” He shrugged then. “But I suppose there could have been exceptions, even amongst Saiyans... but I doubt the King would have turned a blind eye...”

Bulma shook her head in disbelief, sitting down behind her dark oak desk.

“I just couldn’t imagine sharing my husband...” she spoke. “I don’t know how I would feel about him loving someone else...”

“I suppose I have never thought of it in that way,” Daikkon replied thoughtfully. “For it is not ‘loving instead of,’ but ‘loving also’.”

Bulma smirked.

“It’s still loving another,” she said.

Daikkon was quiet a moment before speaking.

“Do you think, if you were to live as long as a Saiyan, that you could not find another to welcome into your household as family? To share in your joy? Whose unique gifts could contribute to your clan?”

“Finding another man as special as Vegeta would be a difficult task,” she said softly. Daikkon smiled.

“I understand. But should you live as long as a Saiyan... that could be another one hundred fifty years...”

Bulma crossed her arms and considered. Even if she didn’t have Vegeta, it was hard to imagine falling in love again. But objectively, one hundred fifty years was a long time. But it would still seem like replacing him...

She didn’t have to answer, as Daikkon continued.

“There is a lot to Saiyan culture that I do not believe conforms to human ideals. Our family structure, obviously, being one of them. But it is of little concern now, my lady. His majesty’s position on Saiyan culture does not appear to be traditional, and as our current monarch, it is within his right to dictate as he sees fit.”

Bulma frowned at the remark. Vegeta never did talk much about the people, but he had always expressed great pride in being Saiyan.

“Vegeta does what he feels is right,” she said in her husband’s defense. “He really wants the best for the Saiyans.”

Daikkon gave a nod.

“I would venture to guess that his majesty would have quite a difficult time finding another like you.” he told her.

“Thank you,” she grinned and gave a playful wink. “Keep up the flattery, and I wouldn’t mind if he picked you as a second wife, Daikkon.” The Saiyan paled.

“You tease me painfully, my lady,” he told her with a shake of his head. “I can hardly entertain ideas of being his majesty’s servant, let alone his equal...or part of his family...but serving him, alone, is my desire.”

Bulma gave a hearty laugh.

“Tell me,” she asked, bringing another cigarette to her lips, “did the wives have husbands, too? I mean...in addition to?”

“If the clan leader was a female, then yes. A Saiyan woman could have multiple ‘shoume,’ just as a man, if she had enough resources to provide for the size of her family. It was just as common as male family heads.”

Bulma took a long drag from her cigarette before speaking again.

“So, with all these spouses, how did they know whose kids were whose?” she asked with a smirk.

“Every child in the family clan must be from the family head. If it is a woman, only she may produce offspring. If it is a man, only he may sire them,” he explained. “But the children were always regarded as being of the family, not just of the biological parents. For that was what was most important: family bonds.”

Bulma gave a heavy sigh, rolling the lit cigarette between her thumb and forefinger as she thought.

“Family bonds...” she said distractedly. “...family...”

She couldn’t help thinking of the look on Vegeta’s face as he stood on the porch, watching his sons leave his home. How was this situation going to work out for their family? Would they be able to come to a decision that was fair for all? At this point, she wasn’t sure if there was such an arrangement. Maybe they could find some type of quasi-Saiyan-clan arrangement that could strengthen them as a group. As a family.

“Daikkon, I would love to hear more, if you have the time,” she said to him.

“Of course, my lady,” he replied, with a look of patient understanding. “It would be my pleasure.”


In lull of time between lunch and dinner, Goku decided to take advantage of the warm afternoon sunshine. After packing the twins into their double-seat stroller, he took them out for some fresh air.

It was only a few minute into his walk when he felt the prince’s ki draw close. Goku stopped in his tracks and waited for the older Saiyan to descend.

“I thought you went home?” Goku asked, adjusting the stroller’s canopy to keep the sun out of the boys’ eyes. Vegeta looked down at the twins a moment before he spoke.

“Where did you get that contraption?”

Goku followed his eye-line to the sleek, new model stroller.

“Korin gave me a gift card to Manternity at my shower. I picked it up yesterday.” he replied, as though he were speaking of something commonplace. “So why didn’t you go home?”

“I did,” Vegeta answered with a shrug. “But I have nothing pressing to attend to there. The children are in town, so I have no one to train but myself. I was going to practice outdoors for a change.”

“You can train me!” Goku said happily. “Huh? How ‘bout it?” He engaged the stroller’s parking brake and jogged over to a clearing. “C’mon, Vegeta,” he beckoned, as he began to stretch out the muscles in his thighs. “Let’s fight!”

Vegeta tried to hide his look of amusement, so he turned to look down upon the infants.

“Will they be okay like that?” he asked.

“Sure,” Goku replied, now stretching out his arms. “There’s a brake on the wheels. They ate before I left, so unless they need new diapers... they’re good!”

Vegeta shrugged and stepped out into the clearing with Goku.

“If you overexert yourself and get hurt, I’m telling the women it was your idea,” he said mockingly.

Goku chuckled as he crouched down into a ready stance. Vegeta did the same, preparing himself for defense, feeling Kakkarot would be the first to attack in his eagerness.

And he was right.

Vegeta brought his arms up to block the punch that was aimed at his face. Goku pivoted, whirling around to deliver another punch to the side of the prince’s head. Vegeta ducked, delivering a jab toward the younger Saiyan’s gut. Goku made a swift movement to catch Vegeta’s fist and push him away, attempting to unbalance him.

Goku could feel the adrenaline beginning to course through his system and his muscles warming in the exhilaration of battle. This wasn’t an all-out power match, but a good, solid fight.

Vegeta set the pace, matching Goku punch for punch to keep a steady rhythm. Their training sessions hadn’t included a physical match in over four months, and the ones before that were few and far between.

In a sudden motion, both Saiyans skidded to a halt and turned toward the stroller. The twins were still quiet, but Ninji’s ki was progressively rising.

Goku rushed to the stroller and picked the dark haired infant up into his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured soothingly. “We weren’t really fighting.” The baby made a soft gurgling noise and curled his tail around one of Goku’s wrists.

Vegeta watched the third class cradle the infant, and Ninji’s ki began to relax.

“You’re okay... you’re okay...” the tall Saiyan chanted softly. “Hey, looks like you could use a new diaper, too, huh?” He turned to the prince and motioned to the stroller. “Could you hand me that bag, please?”

Vegeta grimaced, but picked up the diaper bag and handed it over. Goku laid a blanket out on the grass and began to unclothe the child. Vegeta stood idly by, watching. He put his hands in his pockets and turned toward the approaching ki signal.

Piccolo landed at the edge of the clearing and approached the Saiyans.

“Hi,” Goku greeted him, glancing over his shoulder. “How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” the Namekian replied, exchanging a nod with the prince. “I am not interrupting, am I?”

“Nope,” Goku stated as he finished diapering Ninji. He held the child up. “Better, hm?” he asked, before giving the tiny Saiyan a kiss on the belly. He turned then to his green friend. “What brings you?”

“I was meditating,” the Namek replied, watching Goku as he placed the child back in to the stroller alongside his brother. Before Piccolo could continue, he was struck silent by the items in the carrier with the twins. One pastel green blanket and one pastel yellow one, both trimmed in matching satin. His gifts.

“And?” Vegeta asked impatiently.

Piccolo gave a shake of his head to come back to his original thought.

“And I felt the child’s ki.” He indicated Ninji. “So I came to investigate the occurrence.”

“Oh,” Goku spoke, looking a bit ashamed. “Vegeta and I were sparring. I think that may have upset him.”

“That makes no sense to me,” Vegeta stated. “Saiyans are born to fight.”

Goku looked thoughtful.

“So...you think he was imitating us?” The prince shook his head.

“I did not raise my ki, nor did you.” He sighed and looked down at the dark haired child. “It must just be a fluke.

Piccolo was quietly observing the scene as the other two spoke.

“I don’t think so...” he began slowly. Vegeta and Goku turned to him.

“Then what?” Goku asked. Vegeta, too, looked expectant of an answer.

“It is only a theory,” the tall warrior explained to them. “But...I think I might know the secret of this child’s ki.”


A/N: Sorry this was a short chapter. About half the size of the last one. I am hard at work on the next chapter, though. I was going to post this tomorrow night when I wasn’t on head-cold medicine and had a proper amount of sleep, but I will be moving my computers tomorrow and was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to get back online. You know how moving things around can be...you think you’re gonna get it done in one day and then WHAM... you wanna watch TV and sleep and have a head-cold first! So, anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I’m loving those little babies, so I hope you are too! I hope everyone is still enjoying where this story is going, ‘cause I think it will be quite a while before it comes to an end. Thanks for all of your support here and at the Salon! I love you guys! -B