Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ The Saiyan Book ( Chapter 70 )

[ 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... ^-^

WARNING: This chapter contains LEMON... I think...

To Webtester01: Guess which line was written just for you... *wink*

“We’re back!” Goten called to the household, proceeding Trunks and Bulla into the living room of Capsule Corp.

“Did you get the paper umbrellas?” Bulma yelled from the kitchen.

“Yep,” Goten replied, setting the bags he carried on the dining room table, “everything on the list.”

His mother and Bulma were in the kitchen preparing the food for that afternoon’s barbeque. While Chi Chi worked on skewering meat and vegetables, Bulma programmed the bots with drink instructions. Both women smiled at the trio as they came into the room.

“Thanks for going,” Bulma said to them, trying her best not to smile too broadly. After the initial shock and resentment Bulla had felt about her brother's relationship with Goten, she realized, as everyone else had, that it really wasn’t that different than before. The pre-teen quickly resumed having both boys wrapped around her little finger and seemed to accepttheir choice... outwardly, at least.

“Thanks for the new clothes, Trunks,” the princess commented, giving her brother a smile. “I’m going to wear my new swimsuit to the party.” She pulled on his arm to bring him close enough to kiss his cheek.

“My pleasure,” he assured her.

“In a few more years, you can work at Capsule Corp and earn your own money,” Bulma informed her daughter. Bulla smirked.

“Where’s the fun in that? Later!” The group watched the teal haired girl whisk from the room with her shopping bags, striding away like a runway model.

“Sucker,” Bulma laughed at her son. Trunks shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “Don’t feel too bad, though. Your name is just another name on her list.”

“Hey, B!? Anyone home!?” Yamucha’s voice carried through the living room and into the kitchen. Bulma smiled.

“Speak of the devil...”

Yamucha joined the group around the bar that divided the dining room and kitchen. He carried a large box of imported beer.

“I come bearing gifts!”

Chi Chi gave a disapproving frown, but didn’t comment. The ex-bandit turned to the boys.

“You two staying for the barbeque?” he asked. Before either had a chance to answer, Bulma spoke.

“Of course they are! It’s a family event.”

“Yeah, we’re staying,” Goten replied. “Why?”

“I dunno,” Yamucha answered casually. “I just thought you might be more interested in that air show that’s going on downtown... Or that new action movie that came out today...” He only mouthed his next word: “Run.”

Bulma smacked him on the back of his head.

“Go set up the grill, will you? Since you all insist upon charcoal, I want it to be ready when everyone else gets here.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Yamucha saluted. He turned back to the boys as he moved toward the patio. “Run.”

Trunks shook his head in amusement, nudging Goten, and the two left for Trunks’ room.

Goten paused once inside the room, realization hitting him like a hammer.

“This is a 'coming out' barbeque, isn’t it?!” he exclaimed.

“Probably,” Trunks answer him. “Are you really surprised?”

Goten sighed, gave a shrug and dropped onto the bed.

“Nothing should surprise me anymore...”

ChiChi continued to prepare the meal after everyone had gone. She wasn’t alone long, as Goku popped in with a twin under each arm.

“Have you seen Vegeta?” he asked, balancing Ninji on his hip as he tried to get a better hold on the wiggling blonde.

“He mentioned something about going out right after breakfast, but he did say he would be home before lunch,” she replied. Goku frowned.

“Oh.”

“What do you think!?” Bulla announced, walking into the room, holding out her arms to show off her new bathing suit. She grimaced when she noticed the occupancy of the room was not as high as when she left it. “Where did everyone go?” she asked.

“To get ready for the party,” Chi Chi told her. “Are you sure your father would approve of that suit?”

Bulla looked down at the new two-piece tankini.

“Papa doesn’t approve unless it covers neck to ankle,” she smirked. “And even then it depends on how much neck.”

Goku chuckled, still attempting to balance the children with Vejita trying to squirm out of his arm.

“I’ll take one,” Bulla offered, holding out her hands. Though tempted to have a moment's peace from the rambunctious blonde, Goku offered her the older twin. “Hey, Nin!” she cooed, rubbing her nose against the baby’s. Ninji grinned, shyly turning his face from his sister. “What’s up with your hair, hm?”

Goku sighed as he grabbed a cracker from an hors d'oeuvre tray and gave it to Vejita to nibble on.

“That’s all his hair will do. I’ve tried to make it stand up in a point like Veji’s, but it will only stick out in all directions... it reminds me of a peacock.”

Bulla giggled, running her fingers through the baby’s wild mane.

“More like a lion, huh, Ninji? Here, I got an idea.” The pre-teen pulled out the elastic band that kept up half of her hair. She placed Ninji in his high chair and pulled his hair on top of his head, tying it neatly into a pony tail. “Perfect,” she announced, standing back to admire her handiwork. “What do you think?”

“Very clever,” Chi Chi remarked. Goku chuckled.

“Well, it looks cooler anyway.”

Ninji brought his hands up to his head, feeling for what happened to his hair.

“Here,” Bulla offered, taking a small framed mirror from a grouping on the wall. The baby blinked at his own reflection.

“What is this?” Vegeta asked, pausing in the doorway as he surveyed the scene.

“I fixed Ninji’s hair, Papa,” Bulla laughed. “Do you like it?”

Vegeta grimaced as the baby looked up at him. With his hair pulled back from his face, his resemblance to Kakkarot was even more striking. And since the child had the prince’s eye shape, it was like looking at a serious baby Kakkarot. Vegeta tried not to smile.

“Lovely,” he stated dryly. He turned then to Goku and Chi Chi, giving a small nod in greeting. He'd had very little time with Goku since their conversation earlier in the week. Thankfully, Goku hadn’t pressed the issue and seemed to be as willing as the prince to let the matter drop. Vegeta had since sworn off alcohol... unless he was locked alone in the gravity unit.

“Okay!” Goten stated, strolling back into the room. “We’re ready to party!”

Bulla was less successful than her father at keeping a straight face. Goten was wearing a normal pair of blue swimming trunks, but his T-shirt was knotted in front like a sassy halter top. The princess doubled in a fit of laughter.

Goten put his hands on his hips.

“What?!” he demanded.

Vegeta picked up Ninji and carried him out onto the patio. Chi Chi shook her head.

“Goten...” she sighed, but offered nothing further.

“What?!” Goten insisted, fighting a smile. “Well, everyone will be thinkin’ it!” he remarked, unrolling the shirt as Trunks entered the room. The older teen also gave a sad shake of his head as he passed the others, trailing after his father. Goten followed, exclaiming: “But it’s my coming out party!”

Bulla giggled, slipping out of the patio door behind them.

Chi Chi looked up at her husband and smiled. Goku grinned broadly, leaning in to kiss her firmly on the lips.

“Well,” she breathed, when he pulled away. “What was that for?”

“For being wonderful,” he replied matter-of-factly. “And being more wonderful every day.”

Chi Chi sighed contentedly as she watched her husband leave the room. She would have never imagined this combination of events could make them happy.


Well after the barbeque, Gohan, his family and Piccolo were the last guests who remained at Capsule Corp. Videl sat in the kitchen with Bulma and Chi Chi, sipping coffee and discussing the household arrangement. Bulma was determined to get Chi Chi to join in her excitement about possible renovations and redecorating; and while Chi Chi was ready to call the Briefs’ home hers, she wasn’t ready to stake that same claim on their money.

Goten and Trunks retreated to the den to play video games, having quickly grown tired of alternating between receiving frowns from Pan about their relationship and receiving questions from Pan about their relationship. Goku had taken Veji upstairs to wash off the layer of barbeque sauce the child had covered himself in. Vegeta and Bulla sat together in the living room, watching Piccolo and Gohan continue a game of chess that had been in progress for a little over half an hour. Pan sat beside her father, who was holding his little brother Ninji. The baby, hair still in a ponytail, intently watched the pieces as they were moved around the board. His eyes only moved from the game when Piccolo would start to make a move, and the baby would watch the Namekian before he made his choice. Whenever someone would capture a piece, they would hand it to the child to hold. He currently had seven pieces in his chubby hands.

“Gohan,” Videl called from the dining room. “Could you come take these left-overs Mom is sending home with us?”

“Sure, dear!” he replied. “Sorry, Piccolo, I’ll just be a second.” He stood, depositing the baby in the Namekian’s arms before the warrior could protest. Ninji looked up at Piccolo, offering him one of the pieces in his hands.

“Um... you keep it,” Piccolo responded.

Goku joined them in the living room, looking with approval upon his friend and his son.

“I think he likes you, Piccolo!” he stated happily. Piccolo grimaced as Goku leaned over to kiss the child on the head. “Haven’t you ever thought of having one of your own? Being a da- ...er, mo- ... um... parent?”

Piccolo turned to scowl at the prince and princess who barely contained their snorts of laughter.

“I, in no way, find my life to be lacking in a manner that could be enriched by having offspring,” he stated tightly.

“Babies, Piccolo,” Goku stressed, taking the child from his friend’s arms. He looked up, smiling at his oldest son as he carried several large containers through the room. “Sometimes you don’t know you need them until they are there...” Piccolo was unmoved.

“You should write greeting cards, Son,” he said dryly.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Goku merely replied. “Parenthood is great.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Piccolo stated as he stood. “I should be going.”

Gohan, Videl and Pan left shortly after Piccolo, and once all the youngest members of the household were in bed, the oldest four remained in the living room together.

Chi Chi was about to ask the group if they would enjoy a final cup of tea before retiring for the night, when Daikkon appeared from the hall.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he spoke, bowing.

“I thought you went to bed hours ago!” Bulma exclaimed. “Where have you been?”

“I was working on a project for you, my lady,” he replied, crossing the room to hand her a large binder. “This section is complete to the best of my recollection, which I fear may not be completely accurate.”

“This is great!” Bulma gushed, opening the book and flipping through several pages. “And I’m sure it’s fine. You didn’t have to work so tirelessly on it.”

“No other way would have been acceptable, your highness,” the Saiyan replied.

Goku dropped down onto the couch beside his oldest friend and peered over her shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked. Daikkon could feel the prince’s eyes burning into him as he spoke.

“It is a book on Saiyan life: culture, tradition and ceremony. I am working on completing Saiyan history and biology, but those subjects are quite vast. I am at a disadvantage without any resources or references.”

“Then go home and get them,” Vegeta suggested gruffly. Daikkon turned to him.

“If that is what your majesty requests,” he said.

“That might be a great idea,” Bulma insisted. “I mean, what’s the point of having a space ship if we never go into space?” She turned to Vegeta. “I’m sure Daikkon has things at his house that he’d love to have back. He hasn’t been there in over a year!”

“I’m not stopping him from going,” Vegeta replied. “But not one member of this household is going with him.”

Bulma scowled.

“And why not?!” she demanded. Before Vegeta could snap back with ‘because I said so’, Chi Chi spoke up.

“It’s not a very prudent idea at this point, Bulma,” she said in a very sensible tone. “The twins are still in a very critical growing phase, and the older children will be starting school in just a month.”

“That’s why,” Vegeta added, crossing his arms. Bulma’s scowl became a grimace. Who’d have ever thought these two would be ganging up on her?

During the entire conversation, Goku had been thumbing through Daikkon’s book, which he had slid off Bulma’s lap while she was otherwise occupied. He had stopped on the section covering the Saiyan royal family and read quietly while the others debated. Finally, he spoke up.

“Vegeta’s grandmother was married to three men?” he pondered aloud. The conversation ceased, and all eyes were now on the third class.

“They were warriors, Goku,” Chi Chi replied dismissively. “If I had remarried every time you died, I would have been married at least three times myself.”

“No, honey,” Goku continued. “At one time.”

“Yeah,” Bulma said as if the knowledge were commonplace. “She had three husbands.”

Chi Chi turned her eyes, wide with surprise, to Vegeta.

“Was that... normal?” And here she thought that the Saiyans had ceased to shock her.

“Having more than one spouse was not uncommon,” Vegeta shrugged. “So I was told.”

Chi Chi’s mouth remained agape as she turned back to her husband. The very thought of having to take care of two more of him was... exhausting.

“If I may clarify,” Daikkon spoke, addressing Chi Chi, “such unions in Saiyan culture are quite different than what is commonly thought of as the ‘plural marriage’ of this planet.”

“Excuse me,” Vegeta interrupted, standing and walking out into dining room. Goku turned back to the younger Saiyan.

“What was it like?” he asked.

Daikkon crossed his arms and settled against a nearby chair.

“A strong, dedicated union was the backbone of the Saiyan family,” he began. Goku and Bulma listened quietly while Chi Chi stared through the adjoining room where she could see Vegeta had retreated to the patio. “Marriages were not just for ‘love’, but for creating strong, dynamic clans.”

“What?” Chi Chi snapped, turning back to the trio. “Dynamic?”

“Yes,” Daikkon answered her. “Added dimension, personality. So the children could grow with the benefit of knowing many different views. There were more brains for teaching, more hearts for nurturing, more skills for sharing with the children.”

“And that can’t be accomplished with grandparents; aunts and uncles?” Chi Chi questioned. Daikkon smiled patiently, the gesture not winning him any points in Chi Chi’s eyes.

“Extended family did play a large and important part as well,” he answered. “But there is a difference in the relationship between spouses than between siblings, or between a parent and his child, as opposed to an uncle and his nephew. But, you are right, Mrs. Chi Chi.” She raised an eyebrow. “Saiyans are warriors. But if one was felled in battle, or unfortunate events, the widow or widower would not be left to grieve alone. They had a support system already in place -- of those who could not only empathize, but truly sympathize. The surviving spouses had each other, as did the children. It made coping so much easier for those left behind.”

Chi Chi’s features darkened as she looked upon the Saiyan. Even with Goku back, she could still recall the pain and loneliness that his death had brought to her. Not to mention the struggle of raising two boys alone. Daikkon was right on one point: those who came to help could only imagine her pain -- they couldn’t completely understand her suffering. But the Saiyan had to be wrong about such an arrangement being the harmonious, nurturing environment that he made it out to be. Saiyans were battle hardened machines, weren’t they?

“How many parents did you have?” Goku asked the younger man.

“My parents were only married to each other,” Daikkon replied, with a hint of sadness.

“It seemed to work for them,” Chi Chi commented.

“While my father was living, yes,” he agreed. “But his death occurred not long after my birth, and I got to grow up knowing my mother’s loneliness. She regretted that.”

Chi Chi wanted to slap a hand to her forehead. She heard both Bulma and her husband speak their condolences.

“Excuse me,” she said, leaving the room and going into the kitchen. She could hear their conversation resume as she started a pot of coffee. She didn’t want to return to the living room, the conversation making her uncomfortable in ways she wouldn’t have imagined. Instead, she prepared the coffee and went to the patio.

Vegeta looked up as Kakkarot’s mate stepped out into the back yard.

“Here,” she spoke, handing him a steaming cup. Vegeta accepted the beverage, and the woman sat down in one of the empty chairs surrounding the patio table.

“You tired of his mindless chatter as well?” the prince asked.

Chi Chi shrugged.

“I’m sure I find him as interesting as you do,” she replied dryly. “Although he appears to have our spouses entranced with his knowledge.” Vegeta’s expression darkened, and he nearly growled.

“That boy has never set one foot on Planet Vegeta. He knows nothing of how it was, merely the fairy tale created by an over-protective mother who had barely lived there herself.”

Chi Chi looked down into the cup clasped in her hands. While she didn’t particularly have a fondness for Daikkon, she could feel for what his mother must have been through -- raising her child alone with no family to aid her. When Goku was gone, she at least had her father, Goku’s friends, and to some extent, the prince himself.

Vegeta leaned back in his chair, taking a long drink of the strong coffee. His gaze was faraway and vacant as he sat, a slight frown on his handsome face. Chi Chi wondered for a moment if Vegeta hated hearing the younger Saiyan’s tales for the same reason she did: it hurt too bad to be reminded of the past.

“I couldn’t imagine having three Gokus,” she said with a slight laugh. “One is more than enough.” The prince gave a snort of amusement.

“You’re practically a saint for putting up with that one for as long as you have.”

Chi Chi nodded, feeling it best not to acknowledge the compliment.

“But I suppose three of the same was not the point.”

“Hm.”

The prince took another drink from his cup. His three grandfathers could not have been more different. He remembered that. But he couldn’t remember much else.

“I’m sure the Saiyan way had its advantages,” Chi Chi continued contemplatively, earning a glance from Vegeta. “It might have been easier for my father when my mother died...”

Vegeta frowned, watching the woman who was now staring up into the star-filled, cloudless sky.

“Your mother died when you were young?” ‘Too’, he wanted to add, but didn’t. Chi Chi nodded.

“I was very young. The nurse-maids that took care of me couldn’t have done a better job had they been married to my father, though.” The prince shrugged. “I would not know all I do today if not for them. My mother didn’t get the chance to teach me.”

Vegeta felt an odd tug in his chest. He didn’t want to be talking about this, or listening to this, but something inside compelled him to.

“You... you can remember her?” he asked, trying to sound, as best he could, as if he were just having idle conversation.

“Yes,” Chi Chi answered. “At first I couldn’t. I would see pictures, but not be able to remember if that waswhat she really looked like. I couldn’t remember the scent of her perfume or the sound of her laugh...”

“But now you can?” Vegeta asked incredulously. “Doesn’t the memory degrade over time?”

The dark-haired woman shrugged, staring down into the cup in her hands. She could see her reflection shimmering back at her as the outside lamps turned the coffee’s surface into a dark mirror.

“I realized that my memories weren’t fading, but I was denying them.” Vegeta’s brow furrowed as he listened.

“Why would you do that?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t conscious. But it protected me from the pain...” She took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. “It was easier to forget having such a beautiful, wonderful mother than to remember having one who was taken away.”

The prince tipped back his cup, drinking the rest of the coffee in a final gulp.

“Good night,” he spoke, rising to his feet.

Without another word, he went back into the house. She could see him head directly for the staircase outside of the dining room, not speaking a word to his wife or Goku. Had something she said struck a nerve with him?

Chi Chi picked up the prince’s empty coffee mug and returned to the house. She placed the dishes in the sink and continued on into the living room where the three still sat examining the book.

“So... they were all called ‘wife’, even the men?” Goku was asking.

Daikkon chuckled at the question.

“I did not mean to imply it as such when I said ‘wives’,” he clarified. “There are gender specific terms for husband and wife, but it was more common to use the gender neutral word ‘shoume’, which you could translate as ‘spouse’.”

“Ah, I get it,” Bulma replied as Goku repeated to himself:

“Show-may...”

“Goku, dear,” Chi Chi interrupted them, giving a smile, “I’m going to bed now. Are you coming?”

“Oh, yeah. Bulma, do you mind if I take part of this?”

“No problem,” she replied, watching him open the metal rings and take a section of the pages before closing it and handing it back to her.

“Thanks. Good night.”

“Good night.” Bulma gave a small wave to the couple as they left for their room. “Well, Daikkon,” she addressed the younger man as she stood, “thank you for the reading material.” She smiled, reaching out to take his arm. “And we’ll think of some way of getting your family’s things back. Vegeta will lighten up.”

“My family’s possessions are nowhere near as important as my king’s favor, my lady,” he replied. “I would rather work on securing the latter.”

“I’ll work on that, too,” she told him. “Good night.”

Bulma left the living room, taking the stairs and joining her husband who was already in their room. The prince was standing in front of Bulma’s dresser, looking at the framed pictures covering the top. He scowled upon seeing the book she carried.

“Why do you indulge his ridiculous stories?” he grumbled, moving from the dresser to the bed.

“They’re not ridiculous,” she replied, dropping the book on the end of the mattress. “They’re stories of your culture, and that is important to me. It’s important for our children.” She stripped from her clothes and made her way into the bathroom

“We don’t know that he is not just making this stuff up,” the prince responded, narrowing his eyes at the offending book.

“Oh please! What would he make up?” Bulma called from the adjoining room. “Unless he’s trying to get you to marry him, I doubt it!”

Vegeta continued to glower as his wife prepared for bed. When she returned to the room, she slipped her leg over his and settled onto his lap.

“With the exception of what happened to the third class Saiyans,” she told him, “he paints your people in a very favorable light. I believe what he’s written.” She wiggled playfully, trying to jostle him. “You can’t take all of your anger out on him. He’s a good kid.”

“Kid?” Vegeta said with a smirk. “He’s nearly my age.”

Bulma blinked.

“I thought he was the same as a human in his early thirties?” Vegeta shrugged.

“Well, he’s about ten years younger than me. Since Saiyans live approximately twice as long as humans, he would only be slightly less than half your chronological age...”

Bulma’s brain quickly put two and two together.

“That makes... you half my age,” she sighed.

“And I am no ‘kid’. But age is irrelevant,” he stated, shifting the conversation back to the book. “I want to read that before anyone else has a chance, in case it is overrun with lies and distortions of facts. And I certainly don’t want the children near it.”

“Well, I think Goku will want it after you since he already took a section of it,” Bulma told him as the two settled beneath the sheets and turned out the lights.

“I count Kakkarot in with the children,” the prince returned dryly.

There was silencefor a moment as they both lay wide awake, staring into the darkness. After a few minutes, Vegeta shifted, rolling onto his side and pulling the woman into his arms, seeking the comfort he felt upon holding her closely. Bulma snuggled into his embrace, resting her cheek against his chest. She didn’t want to bring up things that were painful to him, but she wanted him to see the parallels between himself and his race before and after Frieza. She wanted him to be assured that the Saiyans were good people at their core -- just as he was.

It did bother her to be reminded that Vegeta was still young, and aging at half the rate she was. Someday she would become old and die, and the prince would just be in the middle of a Saiyan’s life span. She didn’t know if she could stomach the idea of him finding another wife -- but she also didn’t think she could stomach the idea of him being alone. At least in the Saiyan way, the first spouse got to have some say in who the additional spouses were to be. Even so, could she share her husband with another? She thought she might be more comfortable with the idea of screening potential mates for Vegeta than in having no say at all!

“You are thinking too hard about something,” Vegeta observed, interrupting her thoughts.

Bulma shrugged, pulling even closer to him. The prince, however, had been married to her for too long not to know better. He pulled away from her just enough to look down upon her face.

He smirked.

“What?!” Bulma exclaimed. “It’s nothing!... I just...” She shrugged feebly. “I was just wondering what kind of woman you are going to marry next, that’s all...”

Vegeta’s brows drew together.

“What nonsense are you speaking, woman!” he exclaimed. “You cannot be seriously considering that we --”

“No, I don’t mean now,” Bulma insisted, slipping her arms back around him. “I meant later. After I... you know.”

“No, I do not know,” he informed her testily. Bulma sighed.

“When I die, Vegeta.” She pulled away from him then, leaning over to turn on her bedside lamp before she sat up. “I am going to die and you will only be middle aged for a Saiyan. I won’t know if you are being taken care of --”

“I can take care of myself!” he bit back.

Bulma reached out a hand to touch his cheek.

“I won’t know if you are being loved,” she amended softly.

Vegeta was surprised by the way the topic made his heart thump quickly and heavily in his chest.

“Don’t speak foolishness,” he grumbled, rolling over and turning his back to her. Bulma leaned over him, resting her chin on his bicep.

“It’s the truth, Vegeta. I’m not happy with the thought of you living a hundred years longer than me without knowing that you will be happy. That there will be someone here to be with you and... and keep you content.”

Vegeta continued to glower, not turning back to address her.

“What are you suggesting?” he snapped. “That we go out wife shopping together?!”

Bulma watched her husband quietly, gently stroking the hair at the base of his neck as she thought.

“No. I just want you to know how I feel. That I love and adore you, and I would also like to love and adore whoever gets to spend the second half of your life with you.”

“Tomorrow is not guaranteed for either of us,” he reminded her sternly. In one smooth motion, Vegeta turned and sat up, pulling her roughly to him. “By the Gods! Must you speak of this now?!” he demanded. “You act as though the harbinger of death is at your door!”

Bulma shook her head.

“I never said I was letting go without a fight.”

They stared into each other’s eyes. Vegeta brought a hand to her cheek, gently brushing his fingertips over her smooth skin.

How could a world exist for him without this woman in it? No one could fill the spot in his heart that she had carved out so many years ago.

“We’ll speak no more of this,” he stated, his voice not as strong as he expected. Bulma nodded. She would stop talking about it, but she was not so sure she could stop thinking about it. A hundred years was a long time to be alone, and he had been alone long enough.

“I only want what’s best for you,” she told him truthfully, accepting the kiss that he leaned in to give.

“No more,” he reminded her softly. Bulma sighed, nodding again before settling into his arms.

Vegeta continued to scowl as he held his wife tightly in his arms, silently cursing Daikkon and his pointless gossiping. Would that man not rest until his entire household was in total upheaval. One thinghe knew was certain: this conversation of Saiyan ways might be finished for the night, but it was far from over.


Goten lay across Trunks’ bed, watching the older teen as he sat in front of his laptop computer, checking his email and reviewing reports. The younger Saiyan’s eyes roamed over the other boy, noting the curve of his mouth in profile, the way his lavender hair tapered at his neck and the way his t-shirt sleeve cut across the widest part of his well defined bicep. How had he not noticed his attraction to him before? Particularly when everyone else had...

“Tonight went really well, I think,” Goten spoke, sitting up.

“Hm,” Trunks replied with a slight nod, his hands moving over the keyboard as he responded to one of his messages.

“Everyone was really cool about the whole ‘us’ thing, not making a big deal about it and all...”

Trunks smirked, but didn’t look up from his work.

“Disappointed in your coming out party?” he asked. Goten chuckled.

“Don’t be an ass.” Goten watched Trunks laugh, quietly contemplating his next words. “You know, everyone who knows about us said that they were really not surprised.” Trunks’ hands paused over the keys and he turned to his friend. “What do you think that they saw that we didn’t?”

Trunks turned back to his laptop, logging off the Capsule Corp site and shutting the computer down. Goten scooted over on the bed, turning on his side as Trunks crossed to him and settled beside him.

“I guess it was too obvious that we are perfect for each other,” he said.

“Awwww,” Goten gushed, slipping his arm around Trunks’ waist and pulling him close. “I thought it was because they saw you checking out my ass when I wasn’t watching you!”

Trunks sighed, giving a half hearted laugh at the comment.

“And here I always thought I was being discreet.”

Goten grinned.

“You just find me too wildly attractive to hide it.”

Trunks let the younger Saiyan kiss him, embracing him as well. Kissing Goten was always a mind numbing experience, causing all thought to grind to a halt in his brain. It could have been from the sudden directional shift of blood flow...

Goten gave a heavy sigh, resting his head on Trunks’ shoulder.

“And you get better looking every day.”

Trunks smiled and kissed the other boy on the top of the head.

“It’s in my genes,” he explained, pulling away to stand, drawing down the sheet. Goten’s grin returned as he moved to pull the sheet from under himself.

“So will I get better looking every day if I get some of what’s in your jeans?”

Trunks blushed lightly, joining Goten in the bed again.

“Probably.”

Goten laughed out loud, slapping a hand over his eyes, for the first time in his life shocked by his own bravado. Everything with Trunks was just so easy, their lifelong friendship making it feel as if they had been dating for one hundred times as long as they had been. But rushing Trunks still scared him. He moved his hand and looked to the young man at his side.

“Can we talk about something?” he asked.

“Of course we can,” Trunks assured him, rolling onto his side and looking down at him. “We can talk about anything.”

“It’s about sex,” Goten continued bluntly. “I need to talk about sex.”

Trunks was a bit taken aback by the statement, but not completely surprised.

“That is something all couples should talk about, I suppose,” he agreed. “What about it?”

“Well, I’m not asking for it, just so you know,” Goten laughed. “But I did want to put it out there so we know where we’re at.” Trunks nodded in agreement but was now, more than ever, acutely aware of his erection. He cleared his throat.

“Like how?”

“Like... I just feel like it is super easy to be with you, but I don’t want to rush you into stuff --”

“Goten,” Trunks cut in before he could finish, “I love you, and I know that you love me.” Goten lifted his eyes to meet Trunks’. “I’m not worried about rushing. I think we should stop worrying and let our relationship progress naturally, the way it wants to.” Goten smirked.

“If we follow through ‘naturally’, we’ll be fucking by next Friday,” he said dryly. Trunks’ blush returned, and he chuckled nervously.

“...Ya think?...”

Goten shook his head, amused.

“Nah. I know how responsible you are. A ninety-seven percent effective rubber can’t get you to take a chance.”

“Ninety-seven percent is not accounting for user error,” Trunks replied automatically. Goten laughed.

“See what I mean? I do appreciate you looking out though, man. I just feel like...” He shrugged, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. “That it’s like this shadow hanging over us. Like this... tension... every time we’re alone.”

“Maybe we should just do it and get rid of the tension,” Trunks suggested. Goten’s head snapped back to face the older boy.

“What?!”

“I’m kidding,” Trunks explained, trying not to smile and resting his hand on Goten’s stomach. “But I don’t know how to reassure you. It’s something that I know will happen, when we are ready and the time is right.” He could fully understand Goten’s feelings on the subject, though. He felt the same oppressive tension, but didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. He was older than Goten, and had led him enough during their lives. He didn’t want to lead him into something he wasn’t ready for. Maybe he should take his own advice and quit worrying himself. “Besides...” he began again, turning his attention away from Goten’s dark eyes and focused on moving his hand over the younger Saiyan’s abdomen, “this topic isn’t black and white. It isn’t all or nothing...”

Goten’s smile returned, and he placed his hand over Trunks’, before drawing his fingers over his arm.

“Oh yeah?” he prompted in a roguish manner. “Such as...?”

Trunks shrugged slightly, adverting his eyes as if thinking it over.

“Well, I don’t know... such as... mutual... digital stimulation...”

Goten grinned, giving a wag of his eyebrows as he asked with curiosity:

“What is that, like... like cyber sex?”

Trunks didn’t attempt to contain the laugh that shook him.

“No, Goten,” he chuckled, grabbing the other boy’s hand in his and giving it a shake. “Digital. As in, your digits.”

Goten looked down at his hand as realization dawned on him.

“Oh,” he blushed, partly from embarrassment, partly from excitement. “Right, Dr. Briefs. Sorry about that.”

Trunks dropped his head to Goten’s shoulder, letting his laughter subside as he slipped his arm around the younger boy’s waist and the two lay comfortably in each other arms. Goten seriously turned over in his mind everything that Trunks had said. Their relationship would happen naturally, but everything felt ‘natural’ when it was with Trunks. But like he said, they didn’t have to go ‘all the way’ right away. There were so many ways to give and receive affection, but he had always done those things with people in hopes of reciprocation. With Trunks.... he just wanted to share love.

“Just so you know, man,” Goten stated with confidence, “for whatever it is, I’m ready. Whenever you are.”

Trunks turned back to look at him, a hint of a smile turning his lips. There was silence between them, but it spoke volumes.

Goten shifted, causing Trunks to pull away as the younger boy rolled onto his side so they were lying face to face. He brought a hand to Trunks’ cheek and leaned forward, softly brushing his lips against his friend's. Their kissing was slow and sensuous, reminding both of what ignited their passion to begin with. Goten slid his hand down Trunks’ chest and stomach, slipping beneath his T-shirt before drawing it back up again. The lavender haired prince moaned at the touch, the sensation warming his skin and adding to his arousal. Their tongues met, moving together in a sensual dance and they broke from each other only long enough to shed their t-shirts before returning to the perfection of their kisses.

Goten gently urged Trunks onto his back, moving to lie over him. Trunks’ strong hands caressed Goten’s bare skin, dipping down to his lower back before drawing back up to his shoulders. Goten smiled into their kiss, Trunks’ quiet moaning setting his blood on fire. Trunks sighed as Goten’s talented mouth moved on to nip and suck at his throat, his hands exploring every line of his torso. The spiky-haired teen moved farther down, latching on to a dark nipple and commanding the flesh to attention. Trunks’ gasp made him groan.

Goten pulled himself back up to look down into Trunks’ face, his hands still stroking the older boy’s chest and neck as their eyes locked. Goten kissed him again ardently before he brushed his cheek against Trunks’, whispering in his ear:

“I want to touch you...”

Trunks felt a shiver shoot down his spine and radiate through his groin. He moaned in response, unable to think of a more coherent reply. His body, however, knew he was more than ready to comply. Goten pushed himself up onto his palms, tilting his hips and grinding his erection into Trunks’ as he stared down into the other Saiyan’s wide, glassy eyes. Trunks’ lids fluttered closed and his lips parted as he sucked in a breath. Goten leaned down to place his lips against the prince’s as he moved again, purposefully driving their pelvises together.

“Oh my Gah-” Trunks gasped, turning his face away from Goten, his fingers closing over the other boy’s arms. No one had ever made him feel so intense before... of course, Goten was the only one he had ever trusted this far or felt this complete with.

Goten kissed his way back down Trunks’ throat, drawing his tongue down the taut tendon of his neck and dipping into the hollow of his collar bone. Slowly, he progressed further down his chest, his fingers smoothing over every inch of skin he passed. He paused at Trunks’ waist, his fingertips lightly tracing the bare skin above his boxers. Goten took a deep breath, and looked up at his friend. Trunks was staring back at him through half-lidded eyes. Goten wasn’t sure if the light flush coloring Trunks’ chest was from embarrassment or lust, but it was damn cute.

Ever so gently, Goten pulled on the fabric of Trunk’s only remaining garment. The Saiyan prince dropped his head back to the pillows, lifting his hips in silent consent.

Goten pulled the fabric away, drawing it completely down the older boy’s muscular legs and tossing the clothing to the floor. He had expectedhis mouth to go dry upon seeing Trunks undressed in such an intimate setting for the first time, but once his eyes came to rest upon the finely muscled body and the prominent erection that stood proudly from a soft patch of lavender curls, the saliva rushed in to pool beneath his tongue.

He swallowed hard.

Goten kneeled between Trunks’ knees, his hands gently massaging the thick muscles of the older Saiyan’s thighs as he evaluated his next move. He had expected to feel intimidated and unsure about how to handle another man’s equipment when the time came, but now he could only acknowledge that it felt right... and he wanted this. He leaned over, placing a forearm against the bed as he brought his mouth back to cover Trunks’. Goten chuckled, pressing his forehead against Trunks’ as he pulled one of his hands up the length of Trunks’ thigh and drew his fingertips over the prince’s erection.

“If I wasn’t your best friend today, I will be tomorrow.”

Trunks laughed in spite of the situation, lifting his head to kiss his friend again. It was only moments before his lips stopped moving and he could focus on nothing but the motion of Goten’s hand. Goten sat back up on his knees, wrapping his hand around Trunk’s smooth, turgid flesh and gave a purposeful stoke from tip to base. Trunks shifted his hips, involuntarily pressing upward toward Goten’s hand. He groaned on Goten’s next upward stroke, his hand coming up to cover his eyes before slipping through his hair. Having someone bringing you pleasure was so much different than seeing to it yourself! It was nerve-wracking and exciting and... and a little bit like Otherworld.

Goten was mesmerized by Trunks’ reactions. He licked his lips and turned his focus to the apex of Trunk’s now tense thighs. He wanted to please him, but most importantly, he wanted to share this experience with him. Having no experience with what he was doing, he could only draw on what he knew he enjoyed and hoped Trunks would as well. Goten brought a hand up to his mouth to draw his tongue across his palm, wetting his hand before closing his fist again over the other Saiyan. The saliva reduced the friction, allowing him to give Trunks several smooth strokes.

Trunks squeezed his eyes shut, the feeling more intense than any thing he could remember. His mind was swimming and he didn't know what he should do or how to move, so he simply lay at Goten’s mercy. Part of him wanted to tell Goten he didn’t have to do anything for him, and the other part only wanted more.

Goten wet his palm again, hypnotized by the sight of his hand working his friend’s flesh. Trunks’ moaning was now nothing more than a rumbling in his chest, punctuated now and then by a groaning sigh. Goten’s own erection throbbed between his legs, but the very idea of bringing Trunks so much pleasure -- bringing him to completion -- spurred him on.

Goten rubbed his thumb over the swollen head of Trunks’ shaft, watching the bead of pearlescent fluid roll down over his fingers. Trunks watched him through half-lidded eyes as the younger boy continued to pump his fist, and he bit his lips as he pushed his hips up to meet each downward stroke. He felt his skin heating up, and he kept his eyes focused on the ardorous affection of his boyfriend. He felt on the very verge of exploding.

Goten looked up to Trunks’ face. His flushed skin and disheveled hair could not have looked more adorable. Sexy. Beautiful. He felt a surge of emotion that he had never experienced during such intimacy. He loved him so much.

Goten leaned back over, capturing the older teen’s lips and kissing him with a fierce passion. Trunks brought his hand up just as Goten was pulling away, his fingertips brushing Goten’s cheek.

“I love you,” Goten rasped, giving a nod as if trying to drive home his point. Trunks’ brow furrowed, nodding in return.

“You too,” he assured. Goten’s expression slipped from serious to mischievous in a blink as he shifted himself further back on the bed, giving a wag of his brows before dropping his head, leaning down to take Trunksinto his mouth. He heard the young Saiyan gasp and swear, and fingers entwined into his hair -- not to stop him, but merely to hold on to him.

Trunks was certain he suffered some sort of aneurysm in his brain. Thought ceased and his vision blurred as the world was reduced to the feeling of hot, wet suction.

So this was what Goten was always going on about...

Goten pulled back to catch his breath before actively resuming his oral overture. There was a slightly salty taste on his tongue, but nothing about what he was doing was even remotely unpleasant. He just hoped it was okay, as he felt a bit clumsy in his technique. He almost laughed at the thought of developing a ‘technique.’ He paused again to take a breath, looking up for approval as his hand continued stroking. Trunks had an arm over his eyes, his mouth open and panting. Trunks was trembling beneath him, so Goten used his free hand to rub soothingly across Trunks’ hip and thigh. The older Saiyan took the pause to let out a heavy sigh.

“Fffff -- uck.”

Goten smiled.

“We can do that, too,” he teased, keeping his hand moving as he leaned to draw his tongue across the head of Trunk’s shaft.

Trunks groaned, closing his eyes as Goten continued his amazing ministrations. He was lost tosensation, the pressure building in his groin like a slowly tightening coil about ready to spring. He shifted, trying not to thrust up into Goten’s mouth, but at the same time hurting for release. Trunks slipped his hand down into Goten’s spiky hair, the younger teen’s tongue feeling like molten velvet on his aching sex. He could hear himself mumbling Goten’s name, at times whimpering it, but was at a loss for control.

Goten began alternating between using his hand and using his mouth to engulf Trunks in warm pleasure. He could feel Trunks’ muscles trembling and the fingers that gripped in his hair, but he was caught off guard by the tensing shudder and the rush of warm liquid that spilled onto his tongue. He paused in shock, swallowing before he could think. Another spasm pulsed through the older teen, and Goten tried not to choke as he attempted to swallow and breathe at the same time. He continued firmly strokingTrunks, waiting for his climax to subside. Trunks gave a grunt of release, relaxing back into the mattress and sighing.

Goten sat back on his knees, wiping his mouth on the side of his hand. The look of awed exhaustion on his companion’s face gave him a shot of pride. He leaned back down, placing gentle kisses up the length of Trunks’ torso, feeling the pace of his breathing start to slow down. Goten felt Trunks bring a hand up touch his face, beckoning him closer.

“Gods...” Trunks breathed, as Goten moved to drop at his side. “You... you didn’t have to...”

Goten pulled the sheet around them, pressing himself close to Trunks’ naked body. He laid a kiss on the older boy’s shoulder before slipping an arm around him.

“If ya liked that, just wait until I get good at it,” he smirked.

Trunks stared wide-eyed at the ceiling.

“It gets better?” he asked in disbelief. He turned and ran his fingertips across Goten’s cheek. He felt weak and shaky, and his legs felt like jell-o. He kissed the younger Saiyan, pulling him as close as possible. “How can I... I... Do you want --”

“Oh, I’m good, I’m good. Gimme a sec,” Goten murmured, giving him a final kiss before reluctantly pulling away and rising from the bed. He crossed to the bureau and pulled out a pair of pajama pants before disappearing into the bathroom. He reappeared in only a couple of minutes, smiling self-consciously as he tied the drawstring at his waist. Trunks smiled warmly back at him, extending his hand to invite him back to his side. Goten snapped off the light and climbed back beneath the sheet.

The teens lay in the dark, kissing each other lazily as the weight of sleep descended upon them. Trunks settled comfortably against Goten’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, when he heard the other boy give a heavy sigh.

“What?” he asked, concerned that Goten might be feeling any measure of regret. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Goten said with a yawn, resting his cheek against the top of Trunks’ head. “Now I totally don’t know what to get you for your birthday...”


Goku read to himself after Chi Chi had fallen asleep.Daikkon’s depiction of Saiyan life was fascinating -- so different than what he would have envisioned of the Saiyan people based on his own first hand experiences.

He couldn’t help but reflect on his own life as he read about how important family was to his people, and wonder if the decisions he made were truly what was best for his wife and children.

Goku set aside the section of pages that he had taken from the book, laying them on the nightstand. He had a weird feeling in his stomach after reading, and it only compounded the already sick feeling caused by the conversation the group had when Daikkon presented his work to Bulma. Had he lived his life in the Saiyan way, would Chi Chi have suffered less when he died? Why had she never remarried? Maybe if they had another soul in their marriage, that person could have helped Chi Chi raise the boys, look after their home and keep her company. True, Chi Chi was a strong woman and bore the brunt of his decisions to die and remain in otherworld, but she should not have had to bear it alone.

For the first time in his life, he was questioning those decisions that he thought were courageous and right. It was those who were left behind who had to be brave. He had it easy in death.

Goku pulled back the covers and rose from the bed as a child’s cry drifted across the hall. He left his room, shutting the door and pausing in the corridor, trying to see if the baby would fall back to sleep on his own. There was a second of silence before the child cried again, this time adding a spike of ki.

“Hey, baby,” Goku whispered, crossing to the crib and looking down at his dark-haired son. Ninji’s blurry eyes focused on Goku and he held out his hands.

“Ma ma.”

Goku took the baby into his arms and held him close as he moved to settle in the rocking chair. He vaguely wondered when being a mother had become second nature to him.

“Well, this is a switch,” Vegeta spoke, coming into the room. “Going to spoil him next?”

Goku looked up at the prince who was dressed in nothing but pajama pants and carrying the nursery monitor in one hand. His expression was less than agreeable.

“Sorry he woke you,” Goku said. Vegeta gave a dismissive shrug, lightly smoothing his hand over Ninji’s hair as he moved to look down upon the still sleeping blonde twin.

“I was already awake...”

“Can’t sleep either?” Goku asked, frowning. Vegeta looked back at him.

“What troubles you now?” he returned, ignoring the question.

Goku was quiet, looking down upon his baby as he constructed his reply.

“I was just wondering how hard it was for Chi Chi and the boys after I died... wondering if they were taken care of...” He looked pained by his own words as he continued. “I should have made sure my family was taken care of before I left.”

The prince groaned and rolled his eyes.

“By the Gods,” he grumbled. “Kakkarot, do not let any of the loon’s stories cloud your mind. You did what was right -- you always do.”

Goku sighed.

“I’m beginning to wonder if I ever made the right decisions.”

Vegeta frowned.

“I can think of at least one,” he spoke lowly. “If not two...” Goku looked up at him, but the prince had already turned away again.

Vegeta looked over the decorations that Bulma and Chi Chi (but mostly Bulma) had placed in the room. There were photographs of the twins’ older siblings as well as pictures of Kakkarot and himself. How that woman managed to catch him off guard with her camera so many times was beyond him. Beside the photos on top of the dresser was an album that he recognized at the twins’ ‘baby book’. Casually, he flipped it open, his eyes moving idly over Goku’s scrawling script. There were pictures in this book as well, the first one was of Kakkarot taken at their ‘welcome home’ party. The tall Saiyan was smiling at the camera, surrounded by two of his human friends. Vegeta was sure he was the only one who could see sadness in his eyes.

Written beneath the picture was a sentence prompt: ‘When I first discovered you were on your way’ and the large script that followed:

I was really nervous! This was all so new to me. I was a little scared, too, but I was ready for the challenge!

Silly fool. Childbirth was not like learning a new technique.

He turned another page, frowning at the picture of himself sitting on the living room sofa with a tiny infant Vejita over one shoulder and the wording beneath:

When I told your daddy about you, he: Felt a lot of the same way I did, I think. He’s a really great father, though. You are really going to like him.

Vegeta sighed, shutting the book and turning back to the other Saiyan. Kakkarot still wore a somber expression. Vegeta crossed his arms and leaned back against the dresser.

“And just who do you think you would have left in charge of your family, hm?” he asked. Goku shrugged, adjusting the now sleeping baby in his arms.

“I don’t know. Someone good and kind... someone who would have been a better provider than I was... who would have loved and taken care of them while I was gone.”

The prince gave a snort.

“You act as if that is easy to find.”

“No, not really,” the taller Saiyan admitted. “But maybe I should have looked. Found a decent, honest person.”

“That’s harder to find,” Vegeta remarked sourly. “Besides, you think your wife would have agreed to taking in your new love?”

Goku’s expression turned thoughtful.

“I think Chi Chi knows as well as I do that it doesn’t start with love. Love grows,” he explained. The answer shocked the prince.

“You didn’t marry for love?” he asked incredulously. “Isn’t that what humans do?”

“I guess they do,” Goku replied. “I married to make a marriage. We didn’t know each other well enough to be in love from the start. Isn’t that like the Saiyan way?”

“How should I know?” Vegeta snapped back bitterly.

Goku looked pained, partially from being snapped at and partially from causing the prince discomfort by his comment.

“Well, the Saiyan way makes sense to me,” Goku informed him. “If Chi Chi or I had married again, someone would have been there to care for her and help raise my boys. I owed them that, and I selfishly kept it from them... and I can never make it up to them.”

Vegeta stared in awe at the third class. Never would he have imagined the two of them sharing such similar regrets. Maybe if he and Bulma had a ‘Saiyan’ marriage, his children could have benefited from a father that didn’t have limitations on his outward displays of affection. He owed them that, and he could never make it up to them.

“We can’t change the past,” he spoke quietly. Goku watched as the prince sat down in a nearby chair and held his head in his hands wearily. He continued speaking as he stared at the floor. “Isn’t having someone else raise your kids a poor excuse to not do it yourself?”

Goku frowned.

“I don’t think they saw it like that. No one is perfect, Vegeta. Maybe if I had someone there to balance out my home, my children wouldn’t have suffered.”

“Your boys turned out fine,” Vegeta grumbled.

“But I didn’t do everything I could have for them,” Goku insisted. “Should have for them. I don’t know, Vegeta,” he added with a sigh. “I just feel like I’ve grown so much since then. Matured so much since then. My priorities have changed.”

Vegeta was reminded of the conversation he had with his wife just hours before about Saiyan aging.

“You have, Kakkarot,” he said, leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair. “And you can’t change the past, so quit regretting it. Think about the future. Saiyans live far too long to spend that time haunted by guilt. Believe me.”

Goku looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms. He had forgotten that part. There would be a good chance that he would outlive his family, save the twins. What would he do without them?

“I think living is harder than dying,” he spoke softly. Vegeta nodded.

“Agreed.”

A stretch of silence passed between them,lost in their own thoughts. Vegeta watched Goku as the large Saiyan held their son with such gentle ease. He was a good parent, with all his faults and fumbles, for he tried his best. He did it all from his heart, with love. The prince closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the chair. Kakkarot was a good Saiyan. A strong warrior and a fierce protector, even if he was quick to act but slow to think at times. He was one of the few people that Vegeta felt he could trust.

“You look so tired,” Goku observed, pulling the prince from his thoughts.

“Not too terribly,” Vegeta replied. “I was just thinking.”

“Of what?” Goku asked, standing and returning the infant to his crib. He turned back to his fellow Saiyan, crossing his arms as he waited for a reply. Vegeta shrugged.

“I was wondering if you could handle a house full of women and children for a weekend while I take the boy out camping.”

“That sounds great!” Goku commented, his eyes sparking with interest. “If the twins were older, Goten and I could go, too!”

Vegeta smirked.

“Like that wouldn’t be the double date from hell.”

Goku clasped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Vegeta stood and motioned for him to follow.

“I didn’t mean like that,” Goku whispered as he followed the shorter man into the kitchen. “I just meant, it would be fun to have a training trip...”

Vegeta didn’t comment further as he poured two glasses of iced tea and set one before the third class.

“So I take it you’ll be fine?” he inquired. Goku nodded.

“You can count on me,” he stated firmly.

“Good,” the prince returned. “Because I’ll need you to do it again the weekend after. The only difference being that Trunks will be here, but the boys are even more useless together now than they are separately.”

Goku chuckled.

“What happens that weekend?” he asked.

Vegeta took a long drink before answering.

“That weekend I’m taking out the girl. It’s the last full moon before the start of school.”

Goku was quiet a moment as he considered the meaning in Vegeta’s words.

“How exciting,” he said finally. “She must be so excited.”

“She doesn’t know. If she knew what to expect, the next two weeks would be unbearable.” Goku laughed.

“It’s safe with me.” Vegeta nodded.

“Good.”

Another quiet moment passed between the two. Goku watched Vegeta stare out of the kitchen window, wondering if the prince were thinking about his daughter’s opportunity to be a ‘complete’ Saiyan. He wondered himself what it would be like to see her more closely physically resemble her brothers and whether or not she would be able to control her second form enough to be able to keep it.

“Vegeta.”

The prince raised an eyebrow at Kakkarot’s thoughtful tone.

“Hm?”

“Even if Bulla grows her tail... that doesn’t guarantee that she will be able to transform, does it?”

The prince sighed.

“With her human genetics, there is no way to know if her body will have all of the necessary Saiyan genetic components to transform. We’ve talked about it. She is aware of the probabilities.”

Goku nodded.

“Oh.” That weekend would seem twice as long to him, anticipating the outcome of Bulla’s training. “The boys will miss you while you’re gone,” he added.

“They’ll survive,” the prince responded.

With the topic being so heavily discussed in the house as of late, it was hard for Vegeta not to have a fleeting thought about what would happen to his family if something were to happen to him. It was a comfort to him knowing that Bulma accepted the twins as if they were her own, and he knew she would help Goku raise them if the need arose. In turn, he felt that Goku, and even Chi Chi, would care for Bulla and Trunks, and aid Bulma in his absence.

By the Gods, was he falling into some kind of quasi-Saiyan lifestyle by sheer chance? He looked up at the third class as he examined their situation. It was plain to him that it was his duty to see to Kakkarot’s care for the rest of his life now, not only for what the prince had the misfortune to set into motion, but for what Kakkarot had sacrificed and given to him. Kakkarot was part of his family now, and by extension, so were his wife and children. And if anything were to happen to his fellow Saiyan, Vegeta knew that honor dictated that he step in and care for and protect the Son family as his own.

Vegeta felt his throat tighten. This feeling of responsibility for so many lives was the closest he had ever felt to what he imagined it must feel to be king.

Goku tilted his head to the side, curious at the faraway expression on Vegeta’s face. He reached out and gave him a gentle pat on the arm.

“You okay?”

Vegeta blinked.

“Yes... It is late. You should sleep.”

“You too.”

Vegeta nodded in agreement, but stared at the other Saiyan instead of making any move to leave. Goku stared back at him a moment before smiling, a small place inside of his heart hoping that the prince would return the expression.

“Goku?”

Both men turned to the doorway where Chi Chi stood, holding her house robe tightly around her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Goku replied. “Ninji was just a bit fussy. He went back to sleep though.”

“Oh,” she replied, looking from one Saiyan to the other. Vegeta’s expression remained neutral.

Ninji’s sad cry emanated from the monitor once again, breaking the awkward silence that was beginning to fill the room.

“I see I spoke too soon!” Goku laughed. “I’ll get him. Good night, Vegeta.” He kissed Chi Chi’s cheek on his way past her. “I’ll be back to bed in a bit.”

Vegeta and Chi Chi stood quietly until Goku could be heard speaking soothingly through the monitor. Vegeta reached over and turned down the volume, then picked it up as if he was going to leave.

“Goku is a wonderful parent,” Chi Chi commented. Vegeta gave a nod.

“His attitude is admirable.” he said stiffly, uncomfortable with admitting such a compliment. “Good night,” he finished sharply, leaving her alone.

Chi Chi remained standing in the dark, quiet kitchen, wondering what the two Saiyans could have been discussing in the dead of night. Their children perhaps? Their lives? Their future?

She felt certain that Saiyan Daikkon was trying to plant seeds in their minds with his talk of plural marriage. Pushing archaic Saiyan customs. Playing to a connection with a dead homeland that they had to long for. What his motives for that could be, she had no idea.

The silence of the large house gave her a nostalgic feeling for her home as a little girl, and that feeling reminded of the brief chat she'd had with the prince about her childhood. Like it or not, she was beginning to see more than just a glimpse of the man that Goku and Goten always insisted was there.

Not that she wanted him marrying her husband.

Chi Chi sighed, turning back around and taking the stairs to her room. She stopped outside of the nursery, taking a peek inside. Goku was pacing the floor, holding a bundled baby closely to his body, humming softly. The sight brought a smile to her lips. Goku had really proved wrong any thought she ever had about his inability to be a mother. It was hard to imagine life without the twins now. It was almost starting to feel normal to be living in this modern mansion. What would be the next curveball to be thrown at them which would soon become something they wouldn’t bat an eyelash at.

Vegeta was those children’s father; was it so odd that he should have a relationship with their mother?

‘Gods, Chi Chi,’ the princess reprimanded herself, ‘what gutter in Central City did you fall in? Goku is your husband. Vegeta is his friend. You’ve had to share him enough as it is!’

The thought made her come to a halt. Since the moment those two men occupied a planet together, every force of nature seemed to push them together. She’d been sharing Goku for more than twenty years. It seemed Vegeta was already a permanent fixture in her marriage. Fulfilling something for Goku that she never could. Understanding a side of him she may never understand. Driving him toward some goal that only the two of them could comprehend.

Chi Chi glared at the stack of printed pages on Goku’s nightstand as she removed her robe and returned to the bed. She seriously doubted the Saiyans could have any argument compelling enough for her to share her only love with someone else. Reaching over, she grabbed the papers and settled back against her pillow. As long as that Saiyan was in the house, hearing about their customs and society was unavoidable, so she might as well be prepared. If it wasn’t filled with lies, she may actually learn something and get some idea of where Vegeta was coming from. Because married or not, that man was family now. And if she had to count Hercule Satan in amongst her own, she might as well count the prince.

Starting with the lineage of the royal family, Chi Chi intended to read only until Goku came to bed. Whether it was Daikkon’s writing, or just the depth of the story he had to tell, Chi Chi found herself reading until the very last page, oblivious to the fact that Goku had probably fallen asleep in the rocking chair. She was drifting off to sleep herself as she scanned the final paragraphs, amazed and intrigued by these people that would have raised Vegeta... who should have raised Vegeta. The papers practically slipped from her fingers as she tried to set them down, her mind swirling with questions. Was this tale of the Saiyan people nothing but an interesting read? Or was there something more to their rich culture of loyalty, family and tradition? Was it possible that insidePrince Vegeta rested the heart of a noble king?

Not that she wanted him marrying her husband...

A/N: Sorry this update took so long. I really hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter. Things are gonna start picking up for those babies! I haven't had many opportunites to write lately, but the next chapter is already started and it does move the time forward a few months. Hopefully I will have more time to write!!! Thank you all for reading! *HUGS*