Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Situations ( Chapter 59 )

[ 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... ^-^


Chi Chi set the drink tray down on the coffee table, the clinking of the dishes deafeningly loud in the quiet room.

“Would you like a drink, Vegeta?” she asked as she poured a cup of tea for her husband. The prince declined with a shake of his head. “Are you sure? How about some coffee? You must be tired.”

As much as Vegeta seemed like a robot at times, even Saiyans needed sleep. Years of being married to Goku had taught her that. And as it had only been a little over four hours since he last left their house, she felt that he must be close to exhausted.

“No, I am fine,” he insisted, trying not to growl.

Chi Chi poured a cup of the steaming brew anyway and set it beside him.

“What did you want to discuss, Bulma?” she asked, handing the prince’s wife a cup of her own.

“Well,” Bulma began, “I thought we should talk about the babies and the arrangement we have going on right now.”

“I’m sorry if it bothers you, Bulma,” Goku said sadly. “I’m sure he’ll grow out of it soon, and Vegeta won’t have to be bothered.”

“No, no!” Bulma exclaimed. “That’s not it at all. I love the babies just as much as you do. It’s nothing like that!”

Chi Chi felt an uneasiness with the subject. She didn’t like changes, especially ones she couldn’t control.

“Then what do you mean?” she asked the other woman.

Bulma gave a glance toward her husband before continuing.

“Well, since the children are growing so quickly, I just wanted to make sure we are all on the same page about them, and that there is a solution to their living arrangements that is fair to everyone.”

Both Goku and Chi Chi turned to the prince. Before either could question whether or not Vegeta felt the current arrangement was fair, Bulma continued.

“Certainly we can agree that it is not Goku’s responsibility to bear the brunt of their upbringing by himself. Vegeta and I, as well as our children, want to share in that.”

“He’s not keeping them from you,” Chi Chi replied tightly, feeling her skin flush with irritation.

“I know!” Bulma insisted. “What I mean is, it is our pleasure as part of their family to be more active in their care.”

Goku frowned, watching Vegeta stare out of the window. The prince’s hands were clenched tightly into fists at his sides, and the tension in his body was obvious. “What do you suggest, Bulma?” He asked her without taking his eyes from the older Saiyan.

Bulma sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“What I want to suggest is that you come to live with us at Capsule Corp. Even if my parents weren’t spending so much more of their time living at the lake house, we would have more than enough room. The second floor of the east wing has tons of space for a complete suite, not to mention our training facilities when the boys are older.” She spoke quickly before anyone could interrupt. “I understand that it’s unorthodox, but so is the situation that we find ourselves in!”

The room was silent when she finished.

“Unless someone has a better idea?” Bulma added quietly, subconsciously searching her pocket for a cigarette pack.

Goku and Chi Chi looked to one another. Chi Chi wondered if this was something her husband would want. To be living in the same house with his youngest children’s father, their families combined as one...the ability to train as often as he liked... Is that why he didn’t rush to refuse Bulma’s offer? Did he want to leave their little country house in which they had begun their life together and raised their own sons?

“I would hate to impose,” she said evenly. Bulma sat forward in her chair, eager to reassure her.

“No, Chi Chi! It would be no imposition! Gosh, we have so much room.” She looked to her husband, who was still staring off, apparently lost to his own thoughts. “And Vegeta and I would want you and Goku to feel as though it were your home, same as this one.”

“Well,” Chi Chi spoke slowly. “I....” She looked to Goku, who sat stunned silent by the suggestion. “It really... really is up to Goku...” Bulma looked to him as well.

Goku blinked a few times, his mouth working but not forming any words. He had expected Chi Chi to decline the offer. Were little Vejita’s nighttime tantrums and Vegeta’s visits becoming so inconvenient for her that she would rather move in with the Briefs? He took a breath, about to speak, when Vegeta’s stern voice drew everyone’s attention.

“It is ridiculous,” he stated, turning from the window, “to assume that the only solution is to cause even more upheaval than has already been endured.”

Chi Chi narrowed her eyes.

“Like I said, we wouldn’t dream of intruding,” she replied hotly, trying to contain her anger.

“Nor would you be,” Vegeta replied, turning his cold black eyes to her. “If you and Kakkarot feel that you could totally call our home your home, I would have no objections. But I don’t believe that this is a practical solution. If it is the child’s crying and my presence in your home that concerns you enough to attempt such drastic measures, I will gladly have them stay with me and bring them to Kakkarot when they require feeding.” He crossed his arms, his next words sounding slightly less hostile. “I would find it no sacrifice.”

“We don’t think of it that way!” Goku exclaimed, even though that was also in his thoughts. “I’m grateful that you give up your nights so that I can sleep. Although... I’m sure that can’t make Bulma too happy...” It also couldn’t be too good for Vegeta, he told himself, as the prince never slept while he spent his night at the Son home. He would certainly feel more comfortable in his own house, and could take the baby to bed with him and get rest at night.

A slight color rose to the prince’s cheeks, but he didn’t respond.

“Vegeta,” Bulma spoke sincerely, “Goku and I are already as close as any true family.” Goku smiled at her words. “And all the kids can be together. I think they will like that. And no, I don’t see this as a long term solution, but I think it will be convenient for everyone at this time. When the children grow a bit, we can reconsider and readdress the needs that arise then.”

“Regardless of where they live,” Vegeta said firmly, “I will honor my duty as their father. Besides,” he shrugged, “in less than a year's time, they might decide for themselves where they’d prefer to stay.”

Goku frowned at the thought. Chi Chi stared at Vegeta, wondering if it was indeed the Saiyan prince or if she was hallucinating.

“Are we all in agreement, then?” Bulma asked. “We can give it a trial run? It will be like a holiday. If you two don’t feel completely at ease at Capsule Corp, then we will think of something else. I think that shouldn’t be anything we can’t accomplish, as long as we are working for the collective good of the family.”

Hesitantly, Chi Chi gave a nod. She did agree with Bulma that it was important to work together. She had suffered nothing so horrible as her husband had, and she wasn’t going to be the one to stand in the way of his happiness.

Vegeta was back to staring out of the window so Goku couldn’t look for an answer from him, so he had nothing to do but agree with his wife.

“I think that would be nice, Bulma... to try... thank you.”

“No problem,” she smiled. “I will have preparations started on your rooms today, and we can iron out the details tomorrow.”

Chi Chi couldn’t help but feel dizzy at the speed at which Bulma worked.

“We can talk about it over dinner tomorrow evening. I would love to cook for you all.”

“That would be great,” Bulma answered. “The children will be pleasantly surprised, I think.”

A baby's cry pierced the air, and Goku stood.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, quickly heading for the stairs. Chi Chi spoke to Vegeta, trying not to sound awkward addressing him.

“You can go upstairs with him, Vegeta...”

“I’m fine,” he replied gruffly.

Goku returned moments later with Vejita, swaddled in his yellow blanket.

“Look who’s up!” he said happily with a wide grin.

Both women returned the smile, their hearts warming at the sight of the blonde prince, content in his quilted cloth. Goku turned his grinning face toward Vegeta, whose eyes involuntarily widened in the fear that Kakkarot would approach him.

“And look who’s here!” Goku spoke to the baby, moving toward the older Saiyan. Bulma smiled, but Chi Chi turned to busy herself with straightening the tea service. Vegeta’s mouth twitched as he forced himself not to frown. “It’s your dad!” Goku held the baby out for Vegeta to take. The prince took the baby into his arms, but quickly situated him over one shoulder. Goku ran his hand affectionately over the baby’s blonde hair. “Ninji’s still asleep,” he commented. “I don’t think he even stirred.”

“Lazy,” Vegeta grunted under his breath. Goku was unfazed.

“I’m glad we had this talk,” Bulma spoke, rising from her chair and crossing to stand beside her husband. “We just wanted you to know that we don’t just think of you as family, we are family. Our home is your home.”

“You’re very generous,” Chi Chi told her.

Vegeta felt a bolt of irritation burn through him.

“It is not generosity,” he said in as even a tone as he could manage. “It is responsibility.” He handed the infant back to Goku, who looked confused by the prince’s demeanor. “Come, Bulma,” Vegeta spoke. “We should be returning. I told the girl that I would spar with her today.”

“Sparring,” Goku said in a gasp of awe. “Can I join you?”

“Yamucha and Krillin are coming over this afternoon,” Chi Chi reminded him before Vegeta could answer. “Maybe you can spar with them?” She would also rather Goku be eased back into sparring instead of facing off against Vegeta first.

“Oh, right.” He smiled at Vegeta. “Maybe tomorrow, then?”

“Maybe,” Vegeta answered dryly.

“Goodbye, sweetie,” Bulma said, kissing the infant in Goku’s arms “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right,” Goku nodded. “Thanks for coming over and... and for everything...”

Bulma smiled at her friend before following her husband, who was already out of the door.

“Thanks for the tea,” she returned.

Vegeta was waiting for her several feet outside of the Son home. When she met up with him, she slipped her arm through his, and they began to walk toward their home, even though they would eventually fly.

“I would appreciate a warning, next time,” Vegeta told her.

“A warning for what? We all knew that we had to talk about the living arrangements sooner or later.”

“You might have at least told me you were going to ask them to live with us,” he grumbled.

“I thought the idea was rather Saiyan!” she explained, sliding her hand down his arm and entwining her fingers with his. “I thought it was nice.” She also thought it was more fair for Vegeta.

“Nice wouldn’t be my word for it,” Vegeta scoffed. “But...I don’t think you were truly taking everyone’s feelings into account with this suggestion.”

“I did so take your feelings into account!” she insisted. “I know you have to want your sons to live with you.”

Vegeta sighed, turning his eyes up toward the forest canopy. He watched the white clouds and blue sky peeking from behind the leaves that rustled in the light breeze as he fought with himself about whether or not to speak his next thoughts. “I don’t see whose feelings you could think that I didn’t consider,” Bulma was saying.

“I believe,” he said with great reluctance, “that you did not consider -- or did not consider with adequate depth -- the feelings of Kakkarot’s mate.”

Bulma turned to her husband, astonished.

“Chi Chi?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“The woman is head of her household,” Vegeta explained. “She has spent the whole of her marriage keeping home for that man in that house... she would no sooner feel comfortable in our home than I would in theirs...”

Bulma frowned.

“I never thought of that...” she admitted. Vegeta smirked.

“And they say you’re a genius,” he remarked sarcastically.

“Hey!” Bulma exclaimed with a smile, halting him in his tracks. “I’ll have you know that I was trying to be as thoughtful as possible. However,” she grinned mischievously, “it would appear that my darling husband was the one being truly thoughtful... so thoughtful, considering Chi Chi's feelings.”

“I merely dissected the situation to determine the most beneficial outcome... for all involved,” he replied, his cheeks coloring in embarrassment. “Yes, it would be regrettable if the twins could not be raised in a household with their natural parents. However, I cannot only think of my children or myself, as there are other innocent people involved.”

Bulma continued to smile at him, reaching up to gently caress his cheek.

“Well, we won’t have to worry about that now,” she told him. “You are an amazing man... have I ever told you that?”

He smirked.

“You do every time I take you.”

“Ooo,” she remarked. “Then I am long overdue. It’s been... why, almost two weeks! We haven’t set a record like that since well before Bulla was born.”

“Then I shall remedy that,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. “And you shall be singing my praises, woman.”

Bulma giggled giddily as Vegeta blasted off, taking them toward their home.


Goten dropped himself onto Trunks’ bed and pulled a pillow beneath his head.

“So, after we go to the dance club, I think you should use your influence to get us into ‘Decadence,’” he told the older teen. Trunks frowned.

“First off, we are too young to go into that club. Second, seeing as I am not even an actual employee of Capsule Corp, just the owner’s son, I have no influence. And lastly, our parents would kill us if they found out, and believe me, they’d find out.”

Goten groaned.

“I think we’re old enough to stop worrying that we will get in trouble with our parents. And have you seen the hotties that go to that club?” he asked. “It would be worth getting in trouble for!”

“If might be worth it if they would give us the time of day,” Trunks returned.

“They give you the time of day,” Goten grumbled. “You just don’t give back.”

Trunks ignored the remark and continued.

“And most of the ‘hotties’ you speak of are women who are older than we are. It’s doubtful they would give either of us attention.”

“Of course they will!” Goten laughed, rolling off of the bed and onto his feet. “When they witness our studly charms and our sweet dance moves.”

Trunks grinned and shook his head.

“Right.”

“Riiiiight,” Goten said, gyrating over to the taller boy. “You think the ladies can resist this? I’ll be all like,‘Hey, mama, you know you want some of this.’” Trunks was laughing now as his friend moved closer, bumping him with his hip. “And the chicks will be all like, ‘Who’s that hottie with the sexy style and the nerd with the purple hair?’ and I’ll be like, ‘He’s not with me.’”

“Oh, I see,” Trunks chuckled. “And when I pay your tab?”

“I’ll totally peg you as a stalker,” Goten stated. “And the women will all think even the men can’t resist me!” Trunks rolled his eyes. Goten smiled. “Okay, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll teach you my mad dance skillz so you can get some chicks, too. Of course, you can’t learn this in one afternoon, so it will be considerably less chicks than I get.”

“You’re too kind,” Trunks laughed.

“Oh, you laugh!” Goten exclaimed. “But this is serious stuff! It’s got an international patent and three copyrights.” The dark-haired teen began to bump and grind in an exaggerated manner, moving closer to his friend. “I’ll teach you some of my best lines, too, okay? Like,‘Hey, gorgeous, there is only one thing that would look hotter on you than that dress -- me.’”

Trunks groaned, backing away.

“You don’t actually use those lines, do you?” he asked.

“Hell yeah!” Goten replied. “Okay, how about, ‘Hey, sweet thing, you alright? That’s a pretty far fall from Otherworld.’”

“You mean ‘Snake Way’?” Trunks chuckled. Goten shrugged.

“Whatever. They aren’t listening ’cause they’re transfixed by my good looks and my smokin’ bod.” He grabbed Trunks’ hand and slipped his arm around the other teen’s waist. “And when I get them to the dance floor, it’s over!”

Trunks sighed dreamily.

“You’re right! I’m sold!”

The boys laughed together until a voice interrupted their antics.

“What are you doing?”

The teens stepped quickly away from each other and turned toward the door.

“Geez, Bulla!” Trunks exclaimed. “Don’t you understand the idea of privacy?” She shrugged.

“Your bedroom door was open,” she explained. Trunks glared at Goten, who was chuckling as he returned to sit on the bed. Trunks turned back to his sister.

“But the sitting room door was closed. Mom and Dad have both told you that you just can’t barge into a room with a closed door.”

“I think they meant their door,” she told him. “It’s not like you were undressed.”

“How do you know?!” he asked in irritation. Bulla rolled her eyes, crossing to sit on the bed as well.

“’Cause Goten is in here.” She smiled at her brother’s friend. “Hi, Goten.”

“Hey, sport,” he returned with a smile. Trunks took a measured breath.

“Go away now, Bulla. Goten and I are busy.”

Bulla’s brow creased at her brother’s words.

“Busy doing what? I want you and Goten to take me to a movie.” Her smile returned as she turned back to the dark-haired teen. “There are three great movies that come out tonight.”

“As much as I would love to,” Goten told her, “I’ll hafta give you a raincheck. Your brother and I are hitting the clubs tonight.”

“I can do that,” Bulla informed him. “My mama has taken me to clubs tons of times.”

“Those were country clubs, Bulla,” Trunks sighed. “Goten and I are going to night clubs.” Bulla looked curiously at Goten.

“What for? We can have much more fun at the movies.”

Goten grinned and put his arm around the preteen.

“’Cause Trunks and I are on a mission, kiddo. A very important, adult mission that involves people our own age.” Bulla rolled her eyes.

“If you are trying to find Trunks a girlfriend, good luck!” she laughed. “I think he’s missing the part of the brain where romance is supposed to be.”

“Thanks a lot,” Trunks told her.

“Nah,” Goten remarked, giving his friend a wink. “I think Trunks is just a little too romantic. He thinks Miss Right is just gonna appear one day.”

“Maybe he can build her!” Bulla suggested. “Like his nursebot.” Goten smiled.

“There’s an idea.”

Trunks crossed his arms over his chest, and his sour expression made him look more like his father than usual.

“Are you two ganging up on me?”

“No,” Bulla stated firmly. “We are working together to find you a girl. Did you know, Goten,” she said, turning to the younger teen, “that Trunks had his study partner here for two hours, and he didn’t pick up on any of the flirting she did?”

“What?!” Trunks gasped. Bulla nodded.

“She kept talking about how smart you are and how funny you are -- which is obviously a line --” Goten gave a snort of amusement. “-- and you didn’t say a thing except something boring about cosigns and tangents!”

“How do you know any of this?!” Trunks exclaimed.

“Well, I was going to come ask you to play with me, but you had her in your front room there, so I just sat outside the door.” She laughed at Trunks’ look of shock. “I didn’t hear any kissing noises, so you must not have picked up on her flirting!”

“Bulla!” Trunks exclaimed in exasperation. “How could you listen at my door?!”

“What are you worried about?” she asked, sliding to the edge of the bed, ready to spring. “It’s not like anything goes on in here. Unless you run around naked by yourself.”

Trunks lunged toward his sister with the intention of ejecting her from his space, and she shrieked before darting from the room.

“Bulla, you are such a brat!” he called, chasing after her. Bulla screeched with laughter as she tore through the house, trying to outrun her brother. As soon as the two reached the living room, the front door opened and Vegeta entered, carrying Bulma in his arms.

“Halt!” he barked, causing Bulma to wince and his children to skid to a stop.

“I didn’t do anything!” Bulla stated immediately.

“Mom, Dad,” Trunks spoke, his irritation obvious in his demeanor. “You have to stop her, please.”

“What is going on?” Bulma asked, as Vegeta set her gently on her feet. It was clear to her which of her children was guilty.

“Explain,” Vegeta said simply.

Trunks glanced to Goten as the younger boy came to his side.

“Bulla came into my room without knocking, and she admitted to eavesdropping when I have guests.”

“You tattle!” Bulla accused, frowning. Bulma turned to the girl.

“Is that true?” When Bulla didn’t deny Trunks’ statement, Bulma frowned. “You go up to your room, missy. I will be up in a moment.”

Bulla blushed, her eyes darting to Trunks and Goten and then to her father’s stern face before she turned and fled up the stairs. Trunks sighed and sank onto the sofa.

“She’s getting really bratty,” he said wearily.

“She’s just working out how to be a grown up,” Bulma explained, giving the teens a smile. “And she does that by trying to attach herself to things that you are doing.”

“And trying to embarrass me in front of my friends?” he asked glumly.

Bulma grinned wider and looked to her husband.

“Oh, I think she does that for other reasons,” she said, patting her son gently on the head. “I’ll talk to her.”

Vegeta watched her walk past before turning back to the teens. He raised an eyebrow as he watched Goten lay his hand supportively on the older boy's neck. Trunks gave a half hearted smile and turned to his father.

“I’m not trying to be a child about this, Dad,” he explained. “But why does she have to be so obnoxiously nosy and critical of my personal life?”

Vegeta shrugged.

“Because she is female.”

“She’s eleven!” Trunks exclaimed.

“Eleven going on twenty-one,” Goten laughed.

Vegeta grimaced and turned to address his son.

“What has she to be critical of concerning your personal life?” he inquired. Trunks frowned.

“Maybe how non-existent it is,” he grumbled.

“We’re workin’ on it!” Goten told him encouragingly. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time with work and school and helping others, you would see what's available to you.”

“I can’t say I disagree,” Vegeta commented, turning from the boys and climbing the stairs to the next floor. His daughter’s door was slightly ajar, and he could see the young girl laying dramatically across the bed, her mother at her side.

Vegeta pushed the door open, and both turned to look at him. Bulla had not been crying, but the moment her eyes connected with her father’s, the tears began to flow.

“I’m sorry, Papa!” she said sadly. “I know that it wasn’t nice.”

“Hush, child,” he spoke. “Your apology should not be to me, but to your brother and Goten.” The girl grimaced at the thought of humbling herself in front of the teens.

“I see you should wait a bit,” Bulma observed, standing. “When your apology will be genuine.”

“Are you gonna punish me?” Bulla tentatively asked her parents.

“Oh,” Bulma replied, “I’m sure we’ll think of something. Why don’t you take some time to think about it, and so will we.”

“Okay,” she said glumly, lowering her head.

Bulma took Vegeta’s hand and led him from the room, shutting the door once they were in the hall.

“Well,” she said with a sigh, “they were bound to start clashing at some point. We’ve been lucky up till now.”

“What do you mean?”

Bulma laughed.

“Trunks is extremely tolerant, so Bulla’s demands have been patiently accepted. However, now that she is growing up and becoming a young lady... and has a little crush on her brother’s best friend... she wants to compete for his attention.”

Vegeta frowned.

“Certainly you are not suggesting that she has... romantic feelings for Goten?” he asked, horrified by the idea. “She’s eleven.”

“Exactly. Puberty is no parent's friend,” Bulma stated. She watched Vegeta run a hand wearily through his hair. “Go take a nap, sweetheart. You and I can spend some 'quality time' later. I can handle Bulla.”

“No. She and I have to spar today,” he returned. “And I think... as her father... I need to have a talk with her.”

Bulma gave a small grin.

“We’ve already had the ‘technical’ talk,” she told him. Vegeta sighed.

“The ‘technical’ is not what concerns me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to her together?” she asked. Vegeta shook his head.

“If you wish to give her a ‘mother’s’ talk, you can talk to her later. I feel she needs to have a ‘father’s’ talk. I can handle that alone.”

Bulma felt a swell of pride at his desire to talk with Bulla.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” she advised as he walked back to his daughter’s door. He knocked firmly and waited for the small voice to call from the other side.

“Yes?”

“It’s time to train,” he stated simply. “Come.”


If there was any doubt in either Krillin’s or Yamucha’s mind as to whether or not Goku had made a mistake in going through with his pregnancy, it vanished the moment they saw him with his sons.

The three men, plus the two infants, were sitting on a large blanket on the bank of the river closest to Goku’s home. Ninji and Vejita were lying in the middle of the cloth, Veijita being entertained by Yamucha shaking a rattle and Ninji quietly sleeping. Goku had decided to keep the recent development between his family and the Briefs to himself, for the moment, and focus instead on enjoying the day.

“I can’t believe you guys don’t want to spar,” Goku sighed. “I’m totally ready to!”

“Well, maybe the next time we get together,” Krillin suggested. “It’s just nice to sit like this and chat... watch the babies.”

Goku grinned, in spite of being disappointed, and leaned over to gently kiss the sleeping infant on the forehead.

“Oh, I enjoy them,” he said. “But I’d also really enjoy a spar!”

“Is Vegeta busy?” Yamucha asked, letting the blonde infant have the toy.

“Training Bulla.”

Krillin shook his head.

“Scary thought,” he stated. Goku chuckled.

“She’s good. Quick. Strong. Fearless... Like Vegeta.”

“I wonder how much like Vegeta this one will be," Yamucha mused, picking up Vejita and cradling him in his arms. “I mean, especially since he looks so much like him.”

“In a way,” Goku replied, leaning back on the blanket and staring into the sky. “I can’t wait to find out. But in another way, they’re already growing so fast. They can’t grow too big before I’ve given them proper names.”

“What do you mean?” Krillin asked.

“Last names,” the Saiyan clarified. “I still have to decide what to put on their birth certificates.”

“What did Vegeta say?” Krillin asked, intrigued.

“He said ‘not Briefs,’” Goku replied. “But I don’t feel like I can name them ‘Son’...”

“So... what are you going to do?” Yamucha asked absently, as he was far too entranced by the contented smile on the Vegeta-look-a-like’s face.

“I dunno,” Goku admitted. “But they gotta have names... I think I have an idea... but Vegeta might object.”

Krillin rolled his eyes.

“You’re their parent, too,” he reminded him. “With every right to name them what you please. ‘Son’ is fine. It will make it easier when they start school.”

Yamucha looked up from the baby.

“How will they go to school? When they are the size of five year olds, they will be what, two? Their birth certificates will say two!”

Goku rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand.

“Once they reach a year, their growth will slow down. So when they are truly five years old, they will still appear as five year olds.” He smiled. “I’m actually pretty happy about that. I’ll get four school-free years to train with them. Little, energetic, fighting Saiyans.”

“And what if they don’t want to fight?” Yamucha asked.

Krillin and Goku stared at him a moment before the three burst out laughing.

“Anyway,” Goku spoke, wiping a tear from his eye, “I’m enjoying their infancy. But at the same time...” He ran a fingertip across Ninji’s smooth brow. “I can’t wait to see them grown.”


Vegeta felt a small tug of remorse every time he sent his daughter tumbling to the floor of the training room, but by the third hour of training, she was rolling gracefully and swiftly back to her feet.

“Very good,” he told her, rising from his fighting stance. “That is enough for today.” She nodded, tightening the drooping pony tail atop her head.

“Okay, Papa.”

“Go shower and meet me in the den,” he instructed, as she picked up a towel and began to mop her sweaty brow. She gave a quiet groan, but turned to do as she was told.

Vegeta was sitting in the den within twenty minutes, showered and dressed. He was left waiting for another twenty minutes before his daughter finally arrived.

“What?” she said, looking at his frown.

“We need to talk. Come here.” He indicated the couch cushion beside him. “Sit.”

Bulla reluctantly moved to his side. She felt she was going to get a lecture, but about what she wasn’t sure.

“I’m not going to waste words,” her father began. “I want to talk to you about boys.” Bulla’s eyebrows rose. “Actually, men.”

The preteen turned in her seat, pulling her legs up and crossing them in front of her. She gave her father her full attention.

“What did you want to know?” she asked. Vegeta scowled.

“I’m not asking you about men,” he replied without humor. “I am telling you.”

“Oh,” she said. “What about them?”

“First,” Vegeta began again, rubbing his palms against his pantlegs before crossing his arms across his chest. “About Trunks. He is a man now, and you need to respect his privacy. You would not come unannounced into my bedroom. I expect you to extend him the same courtesy, just as he does for you.”

“But I knew Goten was in there!” she explained.

“That is actually more reason to show respect. When your brother has company, you will give him space and respect his boundaries.”

The princess furrowed her brow.

“But it’s Goten,” she said.

“Just the same, he is a guest in our home and will be treated as such.” He paused before amending, “Or, you will treat him with the same respect as your own family when he is in our home.”

Bulla looked down at her hands a moment, fluffing the pompoms on her fuzzy slippers. She squinted back up at her father.

“What does this have to do with men?” she asked. Vegeta sighed.

“This,” he explained. “I know you like to spend time with your brother and Goten, and play with them and have them take you places, but they are men now -- or nearly -- and they need their space to follow more adult pursuits.”

Bulla frowned.

“Like going to clubs and picking up girls,” she mumbled.

“Like interacting with their peers and seeking mates, yes,” he agreed.

She considered this information.

“When can I seek a mate?” she asked. Vegeta looked evenly back at her.

“I will pick one for you.”

“Papa!” she laughed. “I’m almost twelve!”

“Then when you are fifty.”

“I’ll be old!” she shrieked. “I know....” She smiled at him. “You can pick Goten for me. Then he won’t have to look anymore.”

“I can’t make such decisions for Kakkarot’s children,” he explained. “And by the time you are ready to date, Goten will probably be spoken for.”

The young girl frowned, crossing her arms and leaning back into the sofa.

“What if he isn’t?”

“Then you will take it up with him. But what I wish to impress upon you is that men should not have relationships with little girls.” Bulla opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak. “I know it feels different with Goten because he is a close family friend, but anything other than that kind of friendship is not appropriate or allowed. So you can clear your head of any and all romantic notions until you are of age.” Bulla’s frown deepened.

“Fifty?” she grumbled. “Papa, how about when I am thirteen?”

“Twenty-five,” he countered.

“Fifteen.”

“Twenty-one.̶ 1;

“Sixteen.”

“...We’ll see.” Bulla grinned.

“Are you worried about me getting a boyfriend, Papa?” she giggled as he frowned. “’Cause Trunks is more likely to get a boyfriend than me.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, trying not to sound too interested. She shrugged.

“’Cause they’re all scared of me, and I am much too pretty for the ugly boys in my school.”

Vegeta closed his eyes a moment, partially in exasperation, partially in awe of her vanity.

“No... about Trunks,” he clarified.

“Oh,” she said. “He doesn’t seem too interested in girls.”

“Does he seem too interested in boys?” the prince asked.

“Well...no... he doesn’t really seem interested in anything except school, work and hanging out with Goten.”

“Then you have no basis for such a statement, as it is not supported by appearance or fact,” he told her, standing. “Your brother is very smart and very busy. He will chose a relationship when it is a priority for him.” Bulla nodded.

“He’ll probably be too old to have babies if he waits too long,” she remarked.

“Even human males can produce offspring in their later years. I wouldn’t worry about your brother.”

Bulla’s brow creased as she was struck with a thought.

“Can Trunks have babies like Uncle Goku? Or is it just Goku? ... what about Goten?”

Vegeta took a deep breath.

“As far as I know, it is just Kakkarot. It is within Goten’s genetics to inherit that ability, but it is not within Trunks’.”

Bulla grimaced.

“Do you think Trunks and Goten would have a baby together like you and Uncle Goku did? To make more Saiyans?”

Vegeta felt his heart skip a beat.

“I... I... I have no answer for that,” he stammered. Bulla grinned.

“Goten fat would be funny. Uncle Goku looked funny... but cute.” She cocked her head to one side as she looked up at Vegeta, who was staring down at her with an expression she could not read. “Papa...” she began slowly. “...I’ve been thinking about that time...” He didn’t need for her to explain ‘that time’ to him. “And... Goten always gets really funny acting when we talk about it.”

A sick feeling clenched Vegeta’s gut as he looked at the child.

“Funny how?” She shrugged.

“Funny... like, he can’t believe you and Goku just went along with the whole ‘baby’ idea. I mean, I don’t get it either, but there aren’t a lot of Saiyans left, and they did give us Ninji and Veji, so I’m happy about it.”

Slowly, Vegeta sat back down on the sofa.

“Bulla...” he began, his throat feeling a little dry. “Come stand by me.” Bulla’s was confused by the change in her father’s demeanor, but did as she was told and went to stand in front of him. He took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. “If I ever gave you the impression that those Saiyans offered us the chance to have the twins as an act of kindness, I have misled you.” She frowned at the omission.

“What?”

“We were not given a choice.” That was true, he told himself. It was clearly no choice. “Those Saiyans were bad people who took us for their own selfish reasons. But know that it is we who triumphed and received rewards for our efforts: your brothers.”

Bulla’s eyes moved quickly back and forth between his as if in a persistent search for truth and meaning.

“...How did they get the DNA?” she asked. Vegeta dropped his head.

“That’s not important,” he said, looking back up at her. “There is nothing more important than that we now have Ninji and Vejita.”

“O...okay,” she said, her hands tightening her grip on his. “It didn’t hurt, did it? Did they hurt you?” The prince shook his head. The only thing that hurt was his pride... and his heart.

“Worry no more about this,” he told her firmly. “We are all safe and together now. That is all that matters. It is of no more concern.”

Her angelic face was pinched with annoyance at his explanation. Before she spoke another word, she hugged him.

“I’ll fight with you next time, Papa,” she assured him. “Next time, we fight together.”

“I hope there will not be a next time, princess,” he murmured, returning the embrace. “...there had better not be.”


“We can’t stay out late tonight,” Trunks told Goten as the teens prepared for their evening out. “I have an early class tomorrow.”

Goten rolled his eyes.

“What are you? Like, eighty-seven?” Trunks grimaced. “No! You are nineteen years old! And a genius at that. If you get only forty-five minutes of sleep, you will still be more capable than the rest of the class -- and that includes your professor.”

Trunks’ grimace turned into a smile.

“If you are trying to butter me up in order to keep me out later, it won’t work.”

“What?” Goten laughed. “Do I have to resort to offering my body? ’Cause it’s not beneath me!”

Trunks shook his head.

“Have you had all your shots?” he asked sarcastically.

“Hey,” his friend said in mock offense. “You know I’m clean. I don’t like to advertise this, but you know I ain’t gettin’ any.”

Trunks smile faltered slightly.

“Well, you are getting something.”

Goten grinned, nudging Trunks out of the way of the mirror.

“That doesn’t count,” he stated.

Trunks sighed, frowning.

“You obviously didn’t pay attention in health class.” His dark haired friend continued to chuckle as Trunks crossed to the bed and sat down to put on his socks.

“Dude, don’t be like that,” Goten implored. “You know I had to get a physical to make sure I was healthy enough to work on the grounds crew, and I passed with flying colors.”

“Then you are lucky,” his friend replied. “But I am not going to ignore, or encourage, your dangerous social behavior.”

“Oh, Kami,” Goten groaned, turning to his friend. “Don’t tell me you ain’t never been there. Or, what? Did you only let Tenshi give ya hand jobs, and you got your blowjobs through a condom? And don't get me started on what they expect you to attempt in order to go down on a chick!”

Trunks blushed hotly, intent on straightening his socks.

“Trunks,” Goten said, dropping beside his friend. “She was so hot to get in your pants! You can’t tell me she didn’t want to!”

“What she wanted and what I’d allow are two different things,” Trunks replied curtly. Goten eyes widened in disbelief.

“Dude, I thought you kept that to yourself because you’re a gentleman. Don’t tell me it’s because you have nothing to tell!” Trunks sighed again, brushing invisible lint from his pants.

“What on earth could there be that I wouldn’t tell you, for any reason? Really." He sighed. "But why would you want me to compromise myself for someone that I didn’t love? Tenshi and I didn’t date long enough to take that step. She didn’t like ‘no’ as the answer, and so we broke up. I told you that.”

“You dated for seven months,” Goten pointed out.

“Goten!” Trunks shouted in exasperation. “I couldn’t tell her I was a prince, not to mention half alien! If I couldn’t yet trust her with that kind of information, how was I supposed to trust her with my heart? Or with potentially having my child? Don’t you think about these things?”

Goten stared at him curiously a moment before responding.

“It’s just sex, man... It doesn’t have to be that serious.”

Trunks frowned.

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

Goten sat quietly under the scrutiny of Trunks’ glare.

“Snap,” he replied. It made Trunks smile. “My bad. You’re right! I know you are... it’s just hard...” He grinned. “Often.” Trunks rolled his eyes. “You have the self control of a freakin’ saint!... Ugh.” It was his turn to frown. “You’re gonna be twenty in five months, and you’ve never had a BJ?” Trunks’ blush returned. Goten smiled obnoxiously. “I know what to get you for your birthday!”

Trunks shook his head, grinning.

“You’re horrible,” he said, placing his hands on Goten’s face and pressing his forehead against the younger teen’s. “I worry so much about you.”

“Don’t, man,” Goten told him, watching the older boy move away toward the door to answer the knock.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Are you two leaving yet?” Vegeta asked, giving them both cursory looks. Trunks nodded.

“Yeah. Just about,” his son answered. “You need me?”

Vegeta shook his head.

“Not tonight. Enjoy your ridiculous human socializing.” The boys smiled at each other.

“Thanks, Uncle Vegeta! You make it sound like even more fun!” Goten exclaimed. Vegeta didn’t appear amused by his levity. The older Saiyan placed his hands in his pockets and was quiet a moment, as if thinking of his next line of conversation.

“I spoke to your sister,” he said. “She will be more respectful of your privacy in the future.”

“Thanks, Papa,” Trunks spoke in return. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy Bulla’s company, it’s just... you know?”

Vegeta gave a nod.

“I think it would be reassuring to her to hear you say as much before you left this evening.”

Trunks was slightly surprised by his father’s suggestion, but he agreed.

“Of course. I’ll be right back, Goten.”

“I’ll meet ya out front,” Goten told him, rising from the bed.

Once Trunks was gone, Vegeta addressed the younger teen.

“Before you leave, boy, I’d like a word with you.”

Goten could tell that Vegeta had something serious in mind. He nodded.

“Sure, Uncle. What is it?”

Vegeta stared at him a moment, his eyes boring into Goten’s as if he could read the answer to his question in them. He raised his hand and gripped Goten’s shoulder.

“I am going to ask you something unpleasant, and I want the absolute truth.”

A small measure of alarm began to build inside the younger Saiyan. His mind raced with what the older man could possibly want to know. He spoke uncertainly.

“I would never lie to you, Vegeta.”

“Good,” the prince said. He took a deep breath and gathered his nerve to ask. “On that ship... you were not violated, correct? Not harmed in any way?”

Goten felt his stomach twist at the very idea.

“No,” he replied quickly. “No, please don’t worry about that! Why? I never took my eyes off Bulla, either, so if you’re worried about that -- ”

“That is all I need to hear,” Vegeta said abruptly. “If you say you speak the truth, I will put my mind at ease.” His eyes narrowed as he finished in a serious tone. “But if anything has happened, if you feel you cannot tell anyone... you can tell me.”

Goten smiled brightly.

“Thanks, Vegeta,” he said happily and sincerely. “I really appreciate your concern.”

“Well, anyway,” the prince replied, “Trunks is waiting.”

“Yeah,” Goten continued to smile. “Good night, Uncle.”

Vegeta gave a nod, watching the teen as he headed for the other side of the house. He didn’t want to imagine how that conversation would have gone had Goten confirmed his fears. The child was like family to him. The only Son who didn’t seem out of place in the Briefs' home.

But now, it would be his home. For what length of time was unknown. He had strong doubts that this situation which Bulma had them all agreeing to would work out. He had been wrong in the past, he reminded himself, so it would not be unheard of for him to be wrong now.

But he doubted it.

A/N: I don't have much to comment on in this chapter. Just, as always, I hoped that you enjoyed it and I hope that this story (even though it is insanely long!) is keeping you entertained. Let me know what you think!