Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 8

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

AN: Okay, here's the big turning point I mentioned last chapter. I am formally introducing one of several original characters I have created that play a major role in this story (you got a glimpse of him in Chapter One). Again, you will see some lines of dialogue from the anime but nothing too set in stone, just jumping off points for getting where I need to go.

A couple of random things:

1- Kudos to anyone who can identify what it is that Vegeta can't quite put his finger on.

2- As far as stuff like the birthdates go, I honestly have no idea what they should be or if they were ever even mentioned in the canon universe, so I completely made them up.

3- If you don't know what a chonmage is, try googling an image, or else think Samurai Jack, or even a Sumo wrestler. :)

4- There has been some debate as to whether Puar is male or female. In this story, Puar is a little girl kitty.

**Important** I feel the need to issue a warning about this chapter because it contains a scene that some readers will find disturbing involving torture, death and glee over the misery of others, so be forewarned. It is a flashback scene, and as you know if you have been following this story from the beginning that flashbacks are italicized and easy to differentiate, so if you don't want to read that part, you can skip over it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Last but not least, I want to say thank you so much for everyone who left reviews last chapter. It was so exciting to receive them! It really spurred me on to continue, when I had started to wonder if anyone actually liked this story enough that I should bother to keep writing it. Please continue to let me know how I am doing. :)

Thanks also to my sweetie for reviewing this for me.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.

Chapter Eight

"Huh? Wha-" Geta sat up, holding his aching head and looking around himself. "Where am I?" It was then that he remembered what had happened, and where he was. His eyes widened; he'd just barely managed to escape the two androids responsible for the destruction of his world and the death of everyone he'd ever loved and cared about by transporting himself twenty years into the past. He was in the storage area beneath Capsule Corp, the area which one day would become his mother's hidden lab. If his plan was successful and all went well, it never would.

As depleted as it was, the young man made the effort to mask his ki as he picked up the capsule containing the time machine and tucked it securely inside his clothes. Scanning the grounds, he could feel several vaguely familiar ki, along with that of his infant self and three other familiar ones that he knew he'd never forget, those of his mother and grandparents. A lump formed in his throat, but he had no time for sentimentality. What he needed to do was get out of the house undetected and to the desert. His father would be returning to Earth in a short time, as would Goku and a certain someone else. He took in a deep breath at the thought of facing his father alive and well for the first time in seventeen years. Oddly enough, while Frieza didn't scare him, the thought of the reaction of the man who had sired him did.

He crept up into the main house and into the kitchen. If he could just find something he'd be able to eat! It had been so long since he'd had anything of true sustenance, and the leftover roast wrapped in plastic wrap on the top shelf beckoned invitingly. Suppressing the urge to grab the meat, which he knew his stomach wouldn't be able to tolerate yet, he opened the refrigerator and instead took several bottles of juice, water and an energy drink. He scooted out of the kitchen just in time to avoid being seen by his grandmother, who'd come inside through the side door to make tea and lemonade for their guests. Damn! So much for food. He wove his way quickly through the house and out the front door unnoticed, and began the flight to the desert.

***

The ground shook as Capsule Four landed with a loud thud, creating a small crater in the otherwise immaculately tended yard. Yamcha and Krillin came running to see for themselves what the source of the devastation was.

They stopped a short distance away from the smoking machinery. "It's one of Dr. Briefs' capsules!" Krillin exclaimed. "Do you think-"

He stopped as the outer door opened and began lowering itself to the ground. He and Yamcha exchanged looks. Was this it?

"Oh, my." The two turned to see that Mrs. Briefs had waltzed up behind them, tea pot in hand. "Maybe I should make some more tea. I wasn't expecting any more guests..." she chattered nervously, knowing just who this 'guest' was.

As soon as the inner door opened enough to permit passage, a very cranky Vegeta emerged, pointedly ignoring the men standing nearby.

"Vegeta!" Yamcha took a defensive stance. "What do you want?" he demanded, fists clenched.

"Vegeta, how good to have you home, Dear! Would you like some tea? Or coffee?" Mrs. Briefs asked cheerfully in an effort to keep the peace.

Vegeta ignored her. "Has Kakarrot returned?"

"So you didn't find him, either," Krillin noted.

"Evidently not, Baldy," the disgruntled Saiyan snapped. "I suggest you hold your tongue before I remove it from your mouth, got it?"

The two men backed off, obvious discomfort coloring their faces. All right, that confirmed it- Vegeta was definitely in 'A Bad Mood'.

Bulma strolled over from the patio to investigate the crash. Sure enough, it was Vegeta, and the anger, irritation and hurt she'd felt when he'd left returned in spades. Angry tears of hurt welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. ~So, he decided to come back, huh? Well, I'm not going to make this easy for him! He's going to earn my forgiveness, that's for sure,~ she vowed to herself. "Eww, what is that horrible smell?" she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose as she approached the group. "Oh, it's you. However could I forget the smell of unwashed Saiyan royalty?"

Vegeta scowled at the woman he called his mate and was about to reply when she beat him to it.

"You," she poked Vegeta in the chest with one finger, "are in desperate need of a bath. And we need to talk. Come on inside." She began walking toward the house, fully expecting him to follow her.

Vegeta just glowered at the woman headed toward the house. ~How dare she treat me like... that...~ He found himself mesmerized by her round backside and the sway of her hips in the form fitting skirt she was wearing. Form fitting... It struck him. ~She birthed the brat! Have I really been gone that long?~ He recalled that when he'd left it had been snowing, and now, the summer heat was upon them. Guilt washed over him, but he quickly pushed it away. He'd done nothing wrong!

"Well? Are you coming Highness, or shall I have the palace slaves roll out the red carpet?"

Vegeta's thoughts were interrupted by Bulma's sarcastic voice. He growled and followed her. The others looked on in shocked surprise. She had told Vegeta what to do, and he was actually doing it.

They walked in silence down the quiet halls before she spoke again. "Why did you do it, Vegeta? Why did you just go?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't owe you any explanations, Woman-"

Bulma turned, her finger to her lips. "Shhh! Lower your voice, will you?" She scowled at him. "I just got him to go down about half an hour ago," she told Vegeta, indicating a closed door. "It's amazing enough he slept through your landing, but if he wakes back up because you can't keep your voice down, you're the one who's going to rock him back to sleep, got it?"

"What are you babbling about?" Vegeta asked snidely, although he knew exactly who she was talking about.

"Don't insult me or our son, Vegeta," she whispered as they reached their room. They went inside and she shut the door behind them. "Please tell me why you left. It really hurt me when you left the way you did." This time she was unable to hold her tears back.

Vegeta turned away so as not to see her tears. He hadn't just upset or even angered her, but he had hurt her, something he hadn't intentionally meant to do. "To find Kakarrot," was his only reply as he began stripping off his soiled uniform and armor.

"But... was it me? The baby? What?" she asked absently, watching his muscles flexing as he peeled off his spandex shirt. ~Great Kami, I'd almost forgotten how gorgeous his body is-~ She shook her head to clear it and averted her gaze. No! She was not going to let her feelings for him sway her.

He turned to face her. The look he gave her made her uncomfortable. "To find Kakarrot," he repeated as he entered the adjoining bathroom. He would never admit to her that even though he couldn't care less what they thought, he didn't want to deal with the indignance of the others being wished back. Would never acknowledge, even to himself, that he didn't know how to be a father, that he might actually be nervous about fatherhood. Didn't want to have to take good, considerate care of her or a child in front of her friends.

Didn't want to seem as if he cared about either Bulma or his son in the slightest.

Didn't want anyone to see his uncertainty, his weakness.

Bulma sighed as the water turned on in the bathroom. It was evident that he wasn't going to be very conversational. "I'll find you some clothes. Come out to the patio when you're done showering. We're barbequing for lunch."

He didn't respond. She sighed again, thinking about how wonderful he'd been to her right before he'd left. Now, he was right back to being cold and selfish. Suddenly her face brightened. ~I almost forgot!~ She stealthily grabbed whatever was in his dresser and closet and put a shirt and pair of pants she'd hung in the closet on the bed. "Ha, ha, not even a uniform to wear!" she crowed to herself with satisfaction.

***

They were sitting around the table on the patio chattering and laughing companionably when a loud shout could be heard through the partly opened bedroom window. "Woman! Bring me a drying cloth at once!"

Bulma walked over under the window and glared up at it. "I do have a name, and whenever you want something you shouldn't have, you do know it! And what's wrong with saying please?"

"Fine! Forget the drying cloth, then!"

"No problem. Drip dry, you jerk!" she shouted back, ignoring the smirks of her friends.

"What the hell is this? It's pink!" Vegeta shouted. "I'm a warrior, not some variety of flower!"

They all laughed as he flew out of the bedroom window wearing a pink shirt with "BAD MAN" across the back and absolutely horrid mismatched yellow pants. "What the hell did you give to me to wear, Woman?"

"Calm down, it's the latest style," she lied. "Besides, you smell good!" Everyone laughed even harder.

"Stop laughing before I blast you all!" Vegeta bellowed.

The laughter abruptly stopped. "Chill out, Vegeta. It's just a joke." Bulma put her finger in the air in a 'wait' position and paused as if listening to something, then sighed. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised," she muttered. "One of you take me up there before he starts-"

The piercing wail of an infant split the air. Bulma put her elbow on her free arm and let her face drop into her hand.

"I don't have a problem taking you up, Bulma, but it was Vegeta who woke him up with his yelling. You should stay here and let him deal with it." Yamcha leaned back in his chair and smirked at the angry Saiyan.

"I'm not getting involved," Krillin added, waving his hands in a 'no-thanks!' gesture. "This is between you two."

The baby began to wail even louder. Visibly upset, Bulma latched onto Vegeta's arm. "Just take me up there, will you please?" she murmured, looking up at him with big blue doe eyes that were always able to make him feel weak and foolish.

Vegeta sighed in resignation. He was going to have to do this sooner than later anyway. "Fine," he growled, putting an arm around her in the least affectionate way he could manage.

They levitated up to the nursery window. "Shhh! Hush Sweetie, Mama's here," Bulma soothed, pushing the window completely open and climbing inside. She rushed over to the bassinette on an adjacent wall and scooped the squalling bundle up. "Shh-shh-shh..." she soothed, bouncing the baby gently.

Vegeta stood by the window uncomfortably, staring out of it at the clouds outside. He hadn't said anything nor made any move to see his son.

"Vegeta." Bulma's voice was a whisper. "Come over here."

He averted his eyes to look at her but didn't move.

"Vegeta, please," she implored him. "I know you haven't forgotten our conversation in the kitchen when I told you that I was pregnant. Please, at least acknowledge our son." Her eyes were sad. "This is important to me."

The part of him that was nervous about fatherhood wanted to tell her he couldn't care less about what was important to her, but he knew that wasn't true. Besides, the others already thought so little of him that they were probably expecting him to reject not only the child, but to abandon Bulma as well. They were probably surprised that he'd come back at all.

He didn't want to leave Capsule Corp. and had almost come to think of it as home. He wouldn't admit it, but he still very much wanted Bulma for his mate. She was intelligent, beautiful and had a temperament as close to that of a Saiyan woman's as he was ever likely to find. She could give as good as she got in an argument, keeping up with him almost effortlessly at times. At the same time, there was that passionate part of her spirit that could calm him, make him feel like he really was the greatest man in existence when she gazed at him in adoration with those soft blue eyes. He knew she actually wanted him, not just physically, that she had deeply rooted feelings for him. He knew she loved him, and the thought that he might have ruined that bothered him.

If he was going to stay here, there was no way he could avoid interaction with this child and was going to have to get used to the idea of fatherhood. He sighed deeply and walked over to Bulma and their son, noting the relief in his mate's eyes as he approached.

The baby had stopped crying now, much to Vegeta's relief. He mentally composed himself and craned his neck to peer at the baby, who was clad in a tiny pair of blue pajamas.

"Vegeta, he's not going to bite," Bulma chastised him gently. She took a step closer to him and positioned her arms so that he could better see his son.

That part of him that was anxious over being a father didn't want to do this, but he obliged Bulma and looked down at the baby in her arms. His son's eyes were the same shade of blue as his mother's, although the shape of them was Vegeta's. Other than the eye color- and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on- the child looked remarkably like him. There was no disputing that this was his son.

His heir.

This brought another issue to mind. "Does… does he still have a tail?" Thoughts of a tail-less Gohan rushed through his mind.

"Yes, he does," Bulma responded softly, pleased by the way things were going so far. "It's inside his jammies. They're still too big for him, so there's plenty of room for it. I would never have let anyone remove his tail, Vegeta." She looked over at her mate. "Did you want to hold him?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them, for he tensed up and backed away. "No... not yet."

Bulma managed a smile in an attempt to cover her disappointment. "That's okay. I know this is all new and sudden for you. No rush." ~At least he didn't imply that he never would.~ She took the baby over to a changing table against one of the walls.

The room was quiet for a while until her voice broke the silence. "I gave him a good family name."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "A family name, huh? What is it? Thong? Speedo? Boxers?" He couldn't help but laugh. "If it had been a female, you could have called her Panties."

"Funny. Maybe you should forget about training and do stand up." The smile Bulma gave him before turning away was not one of amusement. "I always said that I would name my son after a very dear uncle of mine."

"Well? If you want me to take an interest in this brat, you should at least tell me his name," Vegeta said irritably.

Bulma took in a deep breath and gazed down at her son. "Remember how I said that I thought it was important for this baby to grow up with an appreciation of his lineage and heritage? Well, everyone thought I was a basketcase for doing it, but I decided to honor what I had personally deemed important and named him in deference to his heritage." She finished up with the baby and cleaned up with some hand sanitizer, then lifted him to her shoulder, still facing away from Vegeta. "Besides, I figured, who am I to break such a long standing tradition?" She kissed the dark haired little head resting comfortably on her shoulder and began to sway gently.

Vegeta was astonished. "Are you saying you named him Vegeta?" he asked incredulously, not realizing that he'd momentarily gone slack jawed. It had never occurred to him that she would want to name the baby Vegeta, especially not after what he'd done.

"Don't make me regret it," she responded quietly. "Who knows if I'll ever have any other-" She stopped short, catching herself and fearing she'd already said too much. ~I don't know if I even want to go there right now. Even though he got used to the idea, Vegeta told me didn't want me to get pregnant to begin with. Being his mate, if he doesn't want children I can pretty much kiss the notion of having any more goodbye.~ Her lips rested gently against little Vegeta's soft hair. "I've, well, we've all been calling him 'Geta' to avoid confusion." She snuck a look at Vegeta out of the corner of her eye to catch his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. "'Geta'? Ugh! That's terrible! Disgraceful, even." He made a face. "You're going to give the brat a complex, Woman."

Bulma turned to Vegeta, and shrugged. "It's kept things simpler, and he doesn't seem to mind, do you little man?"

The baby yawned and rested his head back down against his mother's shoulder.

"See?" Vegeta smirked at her. "I'm just as impressed by your little nickname."

"I'm glad, Veggie. Would you prefer to call him 'VJ', for Vegeta Junior? Do you like 'VJ' better, Cutie?" Bulma cooed to her son.

"That's even worse. I will call my son Vegeta, as is his name," Vegeta informed her smugly.

Bulma looked up from the baby and smiled. "Again, I'm glad to hear it, Vegeta."

He realized he'd been tricked and scowled at her. Before he could open his mouth, Bulma spoke up.

"Let's go get some barbeque before the guys finish it off," she suggested. "Now where did I put your hat, baby boy? Mama can't take you outside with a bare head to get sunburned, can she? Ah, here it is." Bulma produced a despicably ugly blue hat with little pointy ear-like projections on the top of it and pulled it onto the baby's head after some effort; the amount of downy hair on the child's head made it a little difficult. "There we are! All set."

"I was wrong. That hat is disgraceful," Vegeta muttered, staring distastefully at the article of clothing. "The brat has plenty of hair. Let him be."

"He needs a hat, Vegeta. He's only three months old, and it's not a good idea for a three-month-old to be outside with an uncovered head," Bulma objected. "Besides, I think it's a cute hat. It goes with the little outfit I just put him in, see?"

Vegeta wrinkled his nose in disgust. There was that stupid word again. "Cute? You really are a bonehead. Give me that!" Before she could react, he snatched up the hat from his son's head and incinerated it, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Oh! You ass," she growled. "Now what?"

"Now, you would do well to remember that the brat is half Saiyan, and that you could drop him on the floor and not injure him," Vegeta informed her. "I want my lunch, so let's go, Woman." He herded her toward the window.

"What? Are you crazy? I'm not taking my baby out a window unless this place is on fire," Bulma retorted.

"That could be arranged. Let's go already." Vegeta shoved her up to the window.

"Vegeta, please," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm afraid to go out the window holding the baby."

He sighed and flew out through the window, then turned to face her. "You are my mate, Bulma," he reminded her in a low, gentle voice. "I swear that I would never do anything to bring harm to you." He stroked a finger down the side of her face and down her neck. "If you don't trust me bringing you down through the window, go through the house." He turned to leave.

"Vegeta?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "I trust you with my life. Implicitly, in fact." She reached out of the window toward him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

He exhaled slowly, a scowl on his lips, but said nothing.

"Come here," she requested a second time, still holding out her hand. "Vegeta," she whispered.

He flew back over to the window. "What?" he asked, his arms crossed sullenly.

Forgetting about making Vegeta earn anything, Bulma cupped the side of his face with her free hand and smiled, moving her face closer to his.

"Woman, they're watching-"

She kissed him soundly, effectively quieting him. "I don't care," she murmured against his lips. "Neither should you." She kissed him again, pleased when he cupped her face in his hands and returned the kiss ardently. Oh, how she'd missed his kisses...

A loud wolf whistle and a shout came up from the patio. "Woooooo-hooo!"

Vegeta pulled away as if she had some wretched disease, blushing. "Are you coming or not?" he growled.

"I trust you," she whispered again, a little hurt by his rejection. "Here, take him for a moment." She held their infant son out to him.

He hesitantly accepted the child. "What do I do with him?" Vegeta looked as though he was holding a live grenade instead of a baby.

"Cradle him in the crook of one arm, then I'll climb out the window." She situated the baby in one of his arms, then climbed out onto the windowsill. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his neck and settled against his chest in his other arm. She leaned back against him, resting her head against his shoulder.

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder at the others. They were still watching, he noted.

"Thanks for bringing me up," she said softly, looking up at his face.

The look in her eyes made his stomach twist. He had never imagined any woman looking at him the way she was, despite being angry at him. "Sure," he mumbled as his feet touched the ground. He lowered the arm cradling her.

Bulma regretfully slid off of his arm and to the ground. She would gladly have stayed there all afternoon if he had let her. ~His body feels so good, so firm and warm. He smells good too, but then again, he always does, unless he's just been training,~ she thought with a little smile. ~Too bad he's being a jerk right now. What am I thinking? I just passionately kissed the man twice!~ "Huh?" She suddenly realized that someone was calling her name and turned to face the voice.

"Bulma! I brought some more barbeque!" Mrs. Briefs sang, carrying a large platter full of food. "You boys sure are hungry!"

"Oh, good. Thanks, Mom!" Bulma ran off to meet her, leaving the baby with its stunned father.

"Woman!" Vegeta called after her retreating form anxiously. "What am I supposed to... Damn it," he muttered, looking down at the infant resting in the crook of one arm. The baby seemed perfectly content to be there and had wrapped his fuzzy little tail around Vegeta's arm, looking up at him with huge blue eyes.

Vegeta's sensitive ears were met with snickering from the table nearby. "Shut the hell up!" he snapped irritably. "My threat to blast you all still stands!"

The next thing he knew, Bulma's crazy mother was snatching his son away and making idiotic faces and noises at him. Vegeta watched her for a moment before turning away in disgust, unsure of whether he should feel relieved because he no longer held the child- especially in front of the other warriors- or apprehensive because of who it was holding him.

"Bulma, I can't stay long. Your father and I are leaving for our trip in a few minutes, remember?" Mrs. Briefs reminded her daughter as she cooed at her grandson.

"Oh, that's right. Did you need any help, Mom?" Bulma inquired as she put ribs and shish kabobs on the grill.

"Oh, no, I'm all done packing, Bulma dear." Mrs. Briefs laughed happily. "I'm going to have a cup of tea before we leave. Would anyone else like something?"

"I wouldn't mind a grape soda if you have one," Krillin requested.

Mrs. Briefs contemplated this. "I don't think so, but I have lemonade, or regular cola. Or tea." She giggled some more.

"Uhm, some lemonade would be fine, right, guys?" Krillin gave the others seated around the table a look that begged them to agree. Otherwise, it was impossible to be rid of the woman's coddling.

"Sure!"

"Sounds great, thanks."

Mrs. Briefs beamed. "I'll just go get it now- oh, I've still got little baby Vegeta. Yes, Gram has you, doesn't she? Oh, but look at that precious widdle smile!"

"Watch this," Yamcha said silently so Vegeta wouldn't see. "Oh, I'll take him, Bunny," he offered, taking the baby from her. "We'll mind him for you. Heyyyy, little guy-"

Vegeta turned on his heel, eyeing the scarred warrior with a look that promised a slow and definitely painful death. "Don't touch my brat, punk," he growled.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Mrs. Briefs cooed, clasping her hands. "Thank you, Yamcha. What a dear boy you are." Humming happily to herself, she headed back to the house.

"Oh, it's no problem at all, really," Yamcha assured her. "You're cute, aren't you? A-boo-boo…"

The baby wriggled in Yamcha's arms, his little limbs flailing. Rather than smile at his current caretaker, his tiny, rapidly reddening face twisted into a scowl very much like the elder Vegeta's.

"Uh-oh!" Krillin and Oolong chorused.

Krillin leaned over to his friend, eyeing the Saiyan who was eyeing Yamcha with a murderous glare. "Uhm, Yamcha? Whatever it is you're doing again, I'd either stop it or hand that baby off before he-"

The baby let out a shrill scream that made everyone wince.

"Screams," Krillin finished.

Vegeta was about to strangle the man holding his child when Bulma beat him to the chase.

"Yamcha, how many times do I have to tell you, two hands? And watch the tail, will you? It's extremely sensitive! No wonder he's screaming. Look at what you're doing to him. Give him to me, you oaf!"

"Bulma, I didn't mean it, honestly. I'd never deliberately hurt a baby. That's just low," Yamcha objected, clearly hurt. He'd meant to irritate Vegeta by holding the man's child, not by pinching the little guy's tail.

Bulma relented, sighing. "I know. I'm sorry. Just be more careful, okay?"

"Bulma, the grill is smoking!" Oolong was pointing to the grill, which now contained shish kabobs and ribs flambé.

Bulma shrieked and ran back over to the grill. "Oh, crap!"

Yamcha sighed and looked down at the child nestled in the crook of one arm. The tears in the boy's large blue eyes made his heart ache. "Hey, little munchkin," he intoned softly, running a finger along one tiny tear-stained cheek. "I'm sorry about your tail, honest. I guess I'm just not used to them."

The baby whimpered but it didn't appear that he would start crying again.

Yamcha had always been fond of children of all ages, and had on many occasions signed autographs for his younger fans until his hand nearly fell off. "It's okay, huh?" He lifted the baby up against his chest, immediately melting when the little head rested upon his shoulder, one tiny hand fisting the fabric of his shirt. "Aww, guys. Will you take a look at that? What a sweet little guy you are." He patted the little back gently, a dopey expression crossing over his face.

"Awww..." Krillin and Oolong echoed in equally sappy tones.

"All that kid ever did was throw up on me," Oolong complained.

"That's a self-preservation technique," Krillin told him in a serious voice. "You know how a toad will pee on you, or a lizard will shed its tail to avoid being caught by a predator? Babies throw up on people they don't like. Be glad he didn't do anything worse on you."

Even Bulma's laughter was heard from behind the grill. "Good one, Krillin!" she called out.

~Speaking of tails...~ "Bulma, what nickname did you decide on?" Yamcha indicated the baby with a directional nod of his chin.

"I was going to call him 'Geta' but it looks like it's going to be 'VJ'," Bulma announced. "Vegeta thought 'Geta' was disgraceful."

"Okay, good to get that straightened out, because I didn't want to be caught saying that Vegeta had wrapped his cute little tail around my wrist," Yamcha commented, grinning when everyone but Vegeta laughed and groaned at the joke. He ran a finger gently over the soft fur of the baby's tail, which had coiled itself around his other wrist.

Vegeta had done nothing other than sit at the table and glare at the individual holding his son- until now. He leapt up from his seat, sending it tumbling away behind him. "For the sake of his mother I will tolerate your presence near my offspring, Weakling," he snarled. "But if you ever, ever touch his tail again, I promise you that I will make you suffer!"

Speechless, Yamcha could only gape in astonishment and fear at the enraged man whose face was now only inches from his own. "I- I..."

"Vegeta, leave him alone!" Bulma shrieked, rushing over to her friend's aid and taking her now squalling son from him. "He didn't mean anything bad! What's the matter with you?"

Vegeta wheeled to face her, relieving Yamcha to the point that the poor man could breathe again. "How would you like it if everyone who saw you automatically reached out and groped you, thinking it was an adorable thing to do when it is, in fact, a deplorable thing?" he demanded.

Bulma blinked at him. "Vegeta, no one has ever meant anything improper by touching VJ's tail," she stammered. "We're just not used to people with tails, and on a baby it's cute, especially when he curls it around someone's wrist. That's all." She laid a hand on Vegeta's arm in an effort to calm him. "All you had to do was state that Saiyans found it offensive to touch each other's tails, and ask that no one touch our son's tail. No one knew that, and everyone would have respected your wishes."

Vegeta continued to growl. "He would have done it simply to irritate me," he accused Yamcha, who sat up straight in his seat.

"No, I wouldn't have," Yamcha objected with a frown. "I wouldn't try to deliberately offend other people like that, especially by hurting defenseless children." His voice reflected the insult he felt from Vegeta's accusation. "I didn't know you found touching his tail offensive, and I apologize."

Vegeta's jaw set and he continued to glare at Yamcha. "Be sure that you mind your words, punk, and remember that I will mind my own."

"Vegeta, please." Bulma's eyes pleaded with him. "He apologized. Can't we just have a peaceful afternoon today?"

Vegeta sighed and grabbed the nearest chair, not deigning to retrieve the one he'd knocked over earlier. "Whatever, Woman. Just hurry up with that food." He was hungry, and the smell of it was making him even hungrier, which in turn was making him even more irritable.

"I think it's just about done," Bulma responded, relieved that Vegeta was letting the situation go.

"Well, what should we do the next time the little guy wraps his tail around one of our wrists?" Krillin asked thoughtfully. He frowned when Yamcha gave him a look that clearly meant he should shut up. "What? You don't want to offend Vegeta again, do you?"

Yamcha opened his mouth, then shut it again. "No," he reluctantly agreed.

"What did your parents do when you did it, Vegeta?" Oolong asked, snatching a kabob from the platter Bulma set on the table. "Man, is this good. I'm pigging out!"

There was a moment of silence before the prince finally spoke. "I remember my nanny tickling the bottom of my foot to distract me enough that I'd let go," Vegeta responded quietly. "If that didn't work, she would very gently take my tail between her fingers and run her fingertips down it on either side to relax it enough that it would loosen up. That method is especially effective if the brat has fallen asleep."

There was another long pause, and Bulma held in her sigh. Vegeta's voice sounded undeniably sad to anyone who knew him well enough to notice the difference in his tone. "That's different than touching it just to touch it," she pointed out, trying to steer the topic of conversation down another vein as she piled ribs onto another platter.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes," he agreed, putting some of the ribs onto his own plate.

"So your parents did that too, or something different?" Oolong pressed on, not grasping the reason why Vegeta had mentioned what his nanny did instead of what his parents had done.

"Vegeta, would you like some more barbeque sauce for your ribs?" Bulma interjected cheerily, further attempting to change the topic of conversation. Her mate may try to hide it, but she knew that his parents' neglect of him when he was a child had wounded him more deeply than he'd ever admit.

"Oh... Oh!" Oolong exclaimed, suddenly realizing what the looks that Krillin and Yamcha were giving him meant- that Vegeta's parents hadn't had to get his tail from around their wrists because they hadn't held him the way Oolong had typically seen parents do.

Vegeta looked his mate in the eyes and held out his hand to accept the barbeque sauce she held. "Sure," he responded. "Why not?"

***

Geta landed in the desert not far from where his mother had told him that Frieza and Goku had arrived at. He concealed himself within a group of boulders and opened one of the bottles of water he'd taken from the refrigerator at Capsule Corp.

~Oh... So good...~ he thought as he gulped the refreshing liquid down greedily. He was half tempted to dump some of it over his head, as he was hot and seriously needed a bath, but didn't want to waste it. He leaned back against one of the boulders with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Then squirmed. The gear he wore was hot and restrictive; not only was it trapping his sweat against his skin but it pinched at his tail. ~At least it's not as though I'll need this for camouflage purposes again.~ He used a tiny ki ball to burn a small hole in the back of his gear, just large enough for his tail to slip through, and sighed in relief as it was released from its confines and re-wrapped itself around his waist.

He awoke from a short catnap when he felt it- two large ki were approaching, and although he had never felt either of them before, neither was friendly. It could only be two people, Frieza and his father, King Cold. Neither individual was attempting to hide his arrival, as if taunting the small band of warriors on Earth of their impending doom. Geta had also detected his father's return almost immediately after he'd fled Capsule Corp, and knew that once Frieza realized that Vegeta had been raised by the dragonballs, he would especially take delight in tormenting him further.

It wouldn't happen. It ended today.

***

Vegeta stopped chewing and sat up straighter in his chair. He swallowed slowly. ~No... no, it can't be! He's supposed to be dead! Kakarrot must have failed!~

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked, shifting their slumbering son in her arms. "What's wrong?" She did not like the look on his face.

"Y-you feel it too?" Krillin asked in a tiny voice. "I was hoping that I was just imagining things."

"You're not imagining anything," Vegeta rasped. "It's that bastard and his father, no doubt about that."

Bulma could feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She couldn't detect ki the way they did, but if Krillin also felt the overwhelming presence of whoever Vegeta was feeling and both were visibly unnerved, it could only be one person. "You don't mean..." She bounced the baby anxiously.

"Who are they? I can feel two large ki, but I don't recognize either of them," Yamcha interjected.

"It's Frieza and his father King Cold," Vegeta informed him pointedly. He didn't smirk when the other man's eyes widened. "Either he is after Kakarrot and the boy, or has found out that I was raised by the Nameks' dragonballs and has come back to," he paused, "re-enlist my servitude. Either way, this planet is the first logical choice." He turned to Krillin. "Did the Namek teach Kakarrot's brat how to dampen his ki?"

"I- I don't know," Krillin admitted nervously. Vegeta wasn't fooling around here, and seeing him act this way was even more unsettling than just the fact that Frieza was approaching the planet.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. "It's probably too late for that anyway. If we are able to detect him, certainly he knows who is on this planet and where we are."

"Wait, I thought Frieza was dead. How could he be coming here?" Yamcha asked nervously.

"Obviously he survived, which isn't that huge of a shock considering that Kakarrot also did," Vegeta pointed out. "We should have foreseen that as a possibility and planned for it accordingly." He sounded angry, as if irritated at himself for not having thought of it sooner.

Yamcha bit his lip. "You're positive it's Frieza? How do you know for sure he's coming for-"

Vegeta again jumped up from his chair. "I know it's Frieza! I was his slave from the time I was five! Do you honestly think I could ever forget that disgusting lizard's ki, or anything else about him?" he demanded passionately, slamming his fist down on the table hard enough to make his glass fall to the ground, where it shattered noisily. "I make it a point to know these things! You two may not be a threat to him so he wouldn't bother with hunting you down, but Frieza desired the total annihilation of my race when I was a boy, and now he's come to finish the job."

There was a moment of silence as they took in the weight of what Vegeta had said. Who else would know better than he did what Frieza was like? It all made sense. "Damn," Oolong, who had been silent up to that point, breathed.

Bulma's cell phone rang, breaking the silence, and she flipped it open. "Hello? Hey, kiddo. Yes, they feel it too." She paused and looked over at Vegeta. "Yes, just today. He confirmed that it's Frieza, and that King Cold is with him." Another pause. "All right, I'll let them know. Bye." She flipped the phone shut again. "That was Gohan. He and Piccolo are heading out toward the desert, since that's where Piccolo says the ki are heading."

"We should go, too," Krillin mused.

"What for? Do you honestly think that your insignificant ki will be of any use against one such as Frieza?" Vegeta asked snidely.

Bulma was about to chastise him for his rudeness when Krillin beat her to the chase. "Maybe not, Vegeta, but don't forget you're not the only one who died by his hand on Namek. It sure as heck beats sitting here doing nothing and wondering what's going to happen to me," the little monk retorted. "Besides, I would be one less ki to lead Frieza to Bulma and the baby."

Vegeta had been angry at the reminder that Frieza had killed him but upon Krillin's point regarding his mate and son, just managed to keep his eyes from widening. He had not considered that! He looked over at Bulma, who was clutching their son against her chest anxiously. Frieza wouldn't go easy on either his mate or his son just because he was a child. Vegeta himself was living, breathing proof of that. "Go into the house," he murmured, "and take the child with you. Get what you need for him, and be prepared to leave when I contact you." His voice allowed no room for objection.

"Vegeta?" Bulma whispered. "What would Frieza do to VJ?"

Unwanted memories rushed through his brain and he shuddered in distaste as he pushed them away. "Trust me, Woman. You don't want to know what he would do to either you or the child." He could think of several options for them; there was no way that either of them would possibly escape unscathed. Frieza would use Bulma's scientific abilities to his own advantage, and if she refused he would simply throw her to his men to do with as they pleased, a worse fate by far than merely killing her. If he kept her for scientific purposes and didn't simply give her to his men to kill he would at least make her one of the ship's whores at the bare minimum. As for the baby, either he would be killed in some horrific manner, with Bulma no doubt being forced to watch, or more likely Frieza would raise him to replace his father. Since he would be manipulated from infancy rather than from the age of five as Vegeta had been, it would be easy to mold him into a hateful, mindless, cold-blooded mass murderer.

"Vegeta?" Bulma's whisper snapped him back to reality.

"No," he growled. "Think about it, Bulma, but not too much. You must keep your wits about you if you wish to survive as far as Frieza is concerned. Believe me. Now, go."

"But-"

"Damn, disobedient wench!" Vegeta snarled, unwilling to look like he was as concerned for her safety as he actually was. Before she could respond, he scooped her and the baby up and headed for the bedroom window.

"Hey, what are you doing? Vegeta! Put me down you buffoon!" Bulma shrieked, clinging to him with one arm and the baby with the other.

"So much for that ass-kicking he's supposed to get," Oolong muttered as he watched Vegeta shove Bulma and the baby through the nursery window before following them inside.

"What ass-kicking?" Yamcha asked.

"Oh, Bulma went on a rampage after Vegeta took off and started yelling that she was going to kick his ass when he got back," Oolong explained, a note of amusement in his voice. "Instead, she ends up sucking face with him and feeding him barbeque. How messed up is that?"

"Hey, guys! The Briefs just left for their vacation!" a high-pitched little voice behind them announced. "Is there any barbeque left? I'm starving!"

"Sure, Puar. On the table," Yamcha murmured absently.

Puar frowned; all three of them were staring up at one of the windows, but no one was there. "Guys? Did I miss something just now?"

"Uhm, yeah. You could say that," Oolong answered the floating feline. The window suddenly shut and the drapes closed. The shape shifting porker sighed. "Damn. I wish Bulma would kick my ass. Lucky son of a bitch."

***

"Vegeta, what the hell?" Bulma howled as she watched him shut the window.

He herded her toward the bassinette. "Put the brat inside."

"Vegeta-"

"Bulma, listen to me. Death would be preferable to what he would do to you, I assure you. For once, will you just listen to someone who knows from lifelong experience and do as you're told?" Vegeta pleaded.

Bulma blinked in surprise. He was actually pleading with her. "Oh, Kami... you're serious," she whispered. She quickly placed their son in his bassinette when he nodded somberly.

"Bulma, there is no chance that Frieza would spare you, or even just kill you," Vegeta told her in a low voice. "At best, a female like you would be placed with the whores. But you would be doubly cursed on account of your association with me, and cursed still again if he discovered your scientific prowess. And don't even attempt to contemplate what he would do to my son."

A tear trickled down Bulma's cheek and she shuddered. "V-Vegeta, I'm afraid," she whispered. "What if you'd come back just an hour or two later than you did?"

Vegeta visibly winced. "I confess, the timing of my departure and return were both unfortunate and..." He sighed. "Unfair to you," he murmured in acknowledgement. ~Damn you, Kakarrot! You are the only one who stands a chance against Frieza, and where are you when your son and friends need you?~

"But you came back," Bulma whispered in response.

It was almost as though she had read his mind. "I..."

"Just hold me for a moment before you go," she pleaded. Was everything he'd said and done since his return simply an act? Bulma hoped more than she'd ever hoped for anything before that it had been, that he was just embarrassed at the thought that the others might have realized that he did care. She still loved him despite all that had happened and wanted him to be a part of their son's life. "Please."

He cursed himself when he felt his heart wrench at the sight of tears glistening in her eyes. Unable to deny her, he gathered her in his arms and held her close. "Stop crying, Bulma," he commanded gruffly.

~He cares! He must care!~ Bulma clung to him tightly. ~He wouldn't hold me like this if he didn't!~

"I must go," Vegeta's voice rumbled beneath her ear. He tilted her chin up and gazed at her for a moment, then hesitated briefly before releasing her and heading for the window.

"Vegeta? I..." Bulma wasn't sure she was ready to say what she needed to say to him, but what would she do if he was killed again and she hadn't told him? "Be careful."

He grunted and nodded his head in response as he opened the drapes pushed the window open.

~Now or never, Bulma.~ "I love you."

Vegeta had been just about to fly out the window when she said it. To his surprise, he felt relief wash over him. Things were still tense between them because of what he had done and no doubt would be for a while, but the fact that she still loved him, that he hadn't irreparably damaged her love for him, felt like the heavy load weighing down upon his shoulders had just become considerably lighter. He hadn't realized just how much the possible loss of her love had affected him until now. He turned to look at her.

Her lips were trembling and she flung herself back into his arms. She had seen the expression on his face, relieved that it mattered to him and that she had swallowed her hurt pride to tell him on what just might be her last chance. "Oh, Vegeta!"

Forgetting that he was standing in front of the now open window, Vegeta tilted Bulma's chin up and kissed her.

"That is so not right," Yamcha complained as the three of them watched Vegeta kiss Bulma with such intensity that she went limp in his arms. "How does he do that?"

"You mean the fact that she went from angry to amorous in a matter of minutes, despite the fact that his treatment of her hasn't exactly been the most loving?" Krillin asked sarcastically.

"Something like that," Yamcha responded glumly.

Upstairs, Vegeta broke the kiss and released his now breathless mate. "Mind the boy," was all he said before flying out the window, but the look that burned in his eyes spoke volumes. He flew toward the desert where the rapidly approaching ki were headed, Yamcha and Krillin taking to the air to follow him.

Puar was giggling as the three men flew off. "Oh, wasn't that sweet, Oolong? Who knew Vegeta had it in him?"

Oolong shook his head in disbelief. "Damn, really I wish she would kick my ass," he muttered darkly.

***

Geta peered out from his hiding spot as the Z-senshi landed one by one. It would have been easier if he hadn't broken Bulma's cloaking shield, but he couldn't dwell on that now.

His stomach did a flip-flop when the scowling, wild-haired man wearing a pink shirt and yellow pants landed nearby the others. He remembered his mother telling him about the joke she'd played on him and smiled sadly. It had hurt so badly when she had died, and he was looking forward to seeing her again. His father, on the other hand, had been murdered before his very eyes, and that traumatic experience had stayed with him the entire twenty years of his young life. How often had he woken up in the middle of the night in the midst of a dream, reliving one of their deaths? Anya would hold him and stroke his hair while speaking soothing words to him.

Anya. Oh, gods... If he'd thought that the deaths of his parents had been painful enough, her death had been even worse, that and the death of their-

He shook his head to clear it, swiping at the tears he hadn't realized had rolled down his cheeks with the back of his hand. Frieza was almost upon them. Now was not the time to mourn their loss. Now was the time to put into motion the prevention of the deaths of his parents, grandparents and friends. As long as breath remained within his body, he would fight for their survival, helping them to succeed where he had failed.

"So where are they? Are they getting close?"

Vegeta glared at the blue-haired woman standing beside him. He had been so angry with her for deliberately disregarding his directions and flying out to the desert in one of her capsule planes to meet them that he had refused to take her any further when they had moved on. Yamcha had reluctantly carried her, uncertain of whose wrath would be worse to face- Vegeta's, for not only touching his mate but for assisting her to put herself in danger, or Bulma's if he refused to take her. In the end he had taken her because he knew that unless the woman was bound and gagged in a closet somewhere there was no way to keep her away, so he might as well try to keep her out of trouble by keeping her close by. Besides, he understood what she'd said about not being able to stand just waiting. She wasn't going to just sit there while her friends fought and possibly died. If she was going to die by Frieza's hand, she might as well do it with her friends.

"For the last time Bulma, go home, and wait for us there!" Vegeta snapped. "Did you not hear what I told you, or has whatever you have done to puff up your hair in such a ridiculous manner also fried your brain?"

There were a couple of sniggers at the prince's dig at Bulma's hair and she glared at the culprits. None of them had made it a secret that they thought her perm was a disaster and Vegeta's taunting was just rubbing salt in the wound. "Oh, shut up," she snapped back, hurt that he was acting this way after what had just happened in the nursery. "I already told you why I'm here, and I told you that the baby is being guarded by bots. He's locked up in the lab and ki shielded. Nothing's going to happen to him."

"Oh, really?" Vegeta snapped. "You're more deluded than I thought if you believe that."

"I-" Bulma started to speak, but Vegeta cut her off.

"I'm no Super Saiyan. I know I have no chance against Frieza. He's already proven that," Vegeta admitted shamefacedly. "So unless some miracle happens, I'm going to die today, for good this time. I tried to buy you and the boy some time, and now because you have disregarded my directions the Saiyan race will be gone for good."

"Wh-what are you talking about, Vegeta?" Bulma stammered.

"Frieza knows that I am here, as well as Kakarrot's brat," Vegeta continued, gesturing to an astonished Gohan. "Once he comes here and kills us, he'll leave, wait for Kakarrot to return, and then just blow up Earth from space, like I watched him do to planet Vegeta when I was five. Then his purpose will have been accomplished."

Everyone stood and stared at him, no one knowing what to say. I'm no Super Saiyan. I know I have no chance against Frieza... I'm going to die today. No one thought that they'd ever hear anything of the like come from Vegeta's mouth.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Vegeta growled at his unwanted audience. "You had best prepare yourselves instead of staring at me."

~Oh, Father...~ Geta sat back, obscuring himself from view again. He'd had no idea the extent that Vegeta cared. He'd always remembered him to be a cold-hearted, uncaring man, which for the most part was what he had been. He'd never openly shown any sort of love or affection, even to his own mate, but Geta realized now that that didn't mean he didn't feel it. He understood with shame just what had happened that day the androids had come- Vegeta had died attempting to save his young son, trying to save him. Geta remembered it vividly. He had been training with his father in the GR when Vegeta had suddenly left and secured the door, telling him to stay put, only to return again shortly thereafter when the androids had arrived and started to tear into the capsule to get to him. He'd watched in horror as they'd killed his father right in front of him.

Vegeta plummeted to the ground and let out a grunt of pain as he struck it. He tried to get up, but both of his legs and one arm were broken, along with numerous other bones. He lifted his head and looked his young son in the eyes.

"Vegeta, go. Fly away as fast as you can."

"Father, I don't wanna leave you," the child whimpered, rushing over to his beaten and bloodied father and throwing his little arms around his neck. "I'm ascared!"

"Boy, I told you to leave. Now go!" Vegeta snarled. "Get out of here! Go to your mother and your brother and get to safety!"

The two androids landed behind Vegeta, snickering at the sobbing little boy and his defeated father. "Aww, poor little guy," 18 said mockingly. She reached over and turned up his chin. "Are you crying?" She jerked the resisting boy away.

"Leave him alone," Vegeta rasped out, reaching for his son with his good arm. It was no use; there was no way he could reach the child in his condition.

17 snickered and kicked Vegeta in the stomach, causing the Saiyan prince to choke up a large amount of blood.

"Father!" Geta screamed, struggling to get to Vegeta, but 18 held him firmly in her grasp.

"Not so fast, little monkey," she cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice. "It's not your turn to die yet."

"Let go of me!" the child screamed. "Let Father go! He din't do anything to you guys! Why are you hurting people? You're mean!"

The two androids laughed cruelly. This child wasn't a challenge to them yet but his father had been fun while he lasted. "That's right," 17 agreed. "We are mean. And now we're going to prove it."

"Say goodbye to your daddy," 18 cooed in that same syrupy voice before dashing the child to the ground and joining her brother.

"Let the boy go," Vegeta snarled. "He's no threat to you."

"Oh, maybe not now, but someday he could be," 18 contradicted him, tilting his chin up the way she had Geta's. "That's why when we're done with you, he'll be next, then we'll track down your other son and the blue-haired bitch you're screwing and kill them too. So die knowing that you were too weak and useless to save your own family, and that your son is going to watch you die. Oh, and one more thing before we kill you." She kissed his bloody lips, snickering when Vegeta grimaced and tried to turn his face away. "Good night, sweet prince," she whispered.

Geta shook off being thrown down by 18 and pushed himself up in time to see 18 grab one arm, 17 grab the opposite leg, and take to the air with his father. Vegeta's blood curdling scream, while blessedly short, was the most horrific sound that the boy had ever heard, even worse than the appalling sounds of flesh tearing, bones snapping and tendons popping from above him which accompanied the scream. He was unable to look away from the carnage, wide eyed with horror and trembling as his father's blood splattered down upon him and pieces of his torn body hit the ground beside him.

"F-father?"

Vegeta didn't answer, and the little boy knew why. Vegeta had sustained some serious injuries during his training, but none were nearly as bad as what these evil people had just done. Even if they hadn't done what they had, his father's golden hair had returned to its natural ebony color and the eyes that had burned with teal fire only a moment ago were now a cold, lifeless black.

The biggest clue, however, was that he could feel his father's ki no longer.

"You killed my father!" he screamed, launching himself at the two machines. "You killed my father!"

"That's right, you imprudent brat," 17 intoned. "And now, we're going to kill you!"

Just before he could deliver the blow that would undoubtedly obliterate the boy, a ki blast hit him in the chest, sending him reeling. "Let him go, you bloodthirsty tin cans!"

The trembling boy looked up to the sky. "Gohan!"

"Let him go," Gohan repeated. "Why don't you try taking on someone who can actually give you a decent fight back instead of a three-year-old?"

"But we just did, and now look at him," 18 retorted with a laugh.

"I think he's volunteering to go next, Sister," 17 taunted smoothly. "And they say that chivalry is dead."

"Chivalry isn't the only thing that's dead," 18 quipped, grinning when the other android laughed.

Gohan's stomach lurched. He'd felt Vegeta's ki abruptly extinguished and knew that they'd killed the prince, but their methodology was simply gruesome. The fact that they'd done it right in front of Geta was even worse. ~If I'd only gotten here a little sooner...~ There was no sense in fooling himself, though. He wasn't even ten yet, still a child himself. What could he have done other than... That's it! That's what he could do. He could buy some time! If he could lure the androids away from Geta, maybe Geta could find Bulma and Trunks and get to safety! :Geta, I'm sorry about your father. He was a very brave man. He would want you and your mom and brother to be safe. So when the androids follow me, I want you to go to where your Gram and Gramps are and keep safe, okay?: "Come and get me, you stupid machines!" Without waiting for a response from Geta, Gohan rocketed away, the androids hot on his heels.

"You're next when we get back, monkey boy!" 18's voice trailed behind them, causing the distraught child to shudder even worse than he already was.

Geta crawled over to his dead father as quickly as his bruised body would allow and collapsed against him. "Why?" he sobbed. "Why did they hurt you, Father?"

The kitchen door burst open and Bulma rushed out, white as a sheet and trembling. "Vegeta, I can't feel you. Where are... you..." She stopped and stared at her eldest son, who was just covered in blood, and at her mate, who literally lay in pieces on the ground. "Oh, gods no... No!" She ran over to them and fell to her knees. "Vegeta, no! Oh, no no no no..." She wrapped her arms around what remained of Vegeta's torso, clinging to his lifeless body and rocking as she screamed and sobbed hysterically.

Geta forced back a fresh set of tears. No, he couldn't lose it now. Today would be the start of a new life.

Today, he would buy them all some time.

Today, a miracle would happen.

***

Frieza stood with his arms crossed and watched as the beautiful blue gem known as Earth grew closer and closer. Soon, he would put these miserable monkeys and their friends in their proper places- under his foot, if not underground. "Well, Lieutenant," he said smoothly to the man standing beside him, I'd say you have certainly earned that promotion." His lips curled up into a malicious smile. "Soon I'll have my little toy back. Several of them, it seems, if your findings are correct."

The newly promoted lieutenant nodded. "Thank you kindly, Lord Frieza. I feel most privileged to be of assistance to you. Along with the ki we have isolated belonging to Prince Vegeta, we have detected those of several humans with above average ki abilities, a Namek, and a half-Saiyan child which we discovered during our reconnaissance of this planet." A slow smile curled over his lips. "And, my Lord, we must not forget about the woman of which I told you. Prince Vegeta seemed quite taken with her. I can't say I blame him, though, as she was rather attractive. Well, for a human, anyway," he added as an afterthought.

"Good, good. We can use this female against him. If not, if she is as attractive as you say she is, she just might make a nice addition to my current group of lovely ladies." Frieza chuckled evilly. "Job well done, Lieutenant. I applaud you."

"Again I thank you, Lord Frieza. I live only to serve you," the man praised his master, bowing deeply as he did so. The very odd restroom break in that shopping mall on Earth had most definitely paid off.

***

This was it. The huge spaceship had landed a relatively safe distance away from the small band of warriors, but the distance made it seem no less daunting when a large group of soldiers poured out of it, followed by Frieza and an even larger- and uglier- individual they assumed must be King Cold.

"Vegeta, is that King Cold?" Krillin asked.

"Yes, now be silent, Baldie. I am trying to hear," Vegeta responded irritably.

"I can hear everything they're saying," Piccolo offered.

"Goodie for you. Now shut up." Vegeta inclined his head slightly in an attempt to hear. He could make out little bits and pieces, but even his acute Saiyan hearing wasn't that precise.

***

Frieza marched out in front of his troops. "Now, all of you, begin your search. Don't forget, I want the Saiyans and the woman alive. As for the rest of them, when you find them, show no mercy," he commanded menacingly.

"Yes, sir!" chorused a group of the foot soldiers, taking action to leave. As soon as they'd begun to move, several startled grunts followed by thuds were heard. Frieza and King Cold turned to the source of the noise, only to see the soldiers collapsed on the ground. Their eyes flicked up to the figure levitating above them and followed him as he slowly lowered himself down to the ground.

The individual standing before them was quite tall, and wore strange clothing unlike any armor they had seen before. It was dirty and tattered and didn't seem that it would provide very heavy protection; rather, it appeared to be more useful for camouflage purposes. He wore a helmet with a face shield attached. The only part of his body which was exposed was the lower half of his face from the mouth down, as he had lowered that portion of the shield. A frown covered his features and he stood with his arms folded across his chest.

Both the Colds and the strange warrior- as they assumed him to be- stood for a moment or two and regarded each other in silence before the warrior spoke.

"So. You're Frieza," the deep voice began. His arms unfolded to his sides, hands closed into loose fists. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you face to face, and now, I'm going to make you pay for your crimes," he finished flatly.

Frieza began to laugh. "Ooh, we'd better run. Isn't that right, Father?" He gave the warrior a mock scared look and continued to laugh. "You don't know what you're up against, Boy."

The young Saiyan's frown deepened into a scowl. "I know exactly what I'm up against, Frieza, and frankly I'm not worried. You, however, should be."

Frieza snorted in disgust. "Well, you certainly are an arrogant little thing. And maybe in whatever little hole you just crawled out of you're pretty tough. But you're no match for me, really. Fighting a pitiful little punk like you isn't even worth my time," he declared haughtily.

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear yet," the young man continued calmly, refusing to give the lizard in front of him the pleasure of his annoyance. "You're finished, Frieza. I won't allow you or your soldiers to touch any of the individuals you've come for."

Frieza didn't look impressed. "This is a waste of my time. Vaporize this little rodent!" He took a step back as one of the soldiers strode forward.

"With pleasure!" the soldier declared, sneering at the young man as he advanced.

"The rest of you, spread out!" Frieza ordered. The other soldiers formed an arc around the warrior Frieza had just declared war against.

"I think it's only fair that I should warn you that none of you stand a chance against me," Geta told them. "You should take this opportunity to leave before you die by my hand."

The soldiers laughed and made degrading comments. It wasn't very difficult to come up with them; they didn't feel threatened in the least, and his tattered, unkempt appearance only added fuel to the fire. Annoyed at losing the spotlight, the first soldier pushed himself forward.

"Hmph. His power's only a level five. Well, whoever you are, I hope you said your goodbyes," he announced, leveling his wrist gun at the young man, who stood his ground, unmoving, "'cause it's about time for you to die!" He squeezed the trigger, firing a blast of energy.

Geta sighed. ~I should just nip this in the bud before it gets too rowdy. Besides, I don't have much energy left and I don't want to get in trouble.~ Raising an arm, he batted the energy away as harmlessly as if he'd shooed a fly. It exploded into a rise of rock behind him.

The foot soldier stuttered in shocked surprise before firing three more shots, each of which met the same fate. "But…" he stammered in fear.

Geta took to flight, slamming his fist into the big man's chest, who grunted and doubled over in pain, before anyone knew he'd even moved. Grabbing the startled man's head, he gave it a quick twist. There was a sickening crackling sound as bones shattered in the man's neck. He tossed the body Frieza's way, sending it flying into the spaceship.

Frieza spared a glance at the lifeless body before turning his attention back to the warrior, who stood ready for his next opponent. He sneered. "Hmph. Well. It seems the little dog has some bark to go with his bite, after all. Or should I say little monkey?" he queried, indicating the tail which had loosened itself from the warrior's suit and was now twitching behind him.

Geta straighten up, surprised. He hadn't realized his tail had unwound itself from his waist; it had a mind of its own. "What did you call me?" he growled angrily. He hated that particular slur more than anything and wished he could show Frieza just how much by creating an artificial moon. He knew that even if he knew how to do that, it would take everything he had to accomplish it and then even more to sustain the transformation. That didn't count the fact that he'd never gone Oozaru before, and in all likeliness wouldn't be able to control his actions. He clenched his teeth, infuriated.

"Nice tail, filthy monkey," Frieza hissed. When Geta's growl became audible, he laughed. "Looks like I hit a nerve, didn't I?" he taunted, smirking. "Look what we have to play with now, Father." He licked his lips, feeling a sick thrill when the young man was unable to suppress a slight shudder. "Saiyans are the most deliciously fun, I assure you." He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing in contemplation. "While I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I do wonder where he came from, seeing as I destroyed his miserable little planet with but a nudge of my finger all those years ago. Such a loss." He gave Geta a lascivious look. "I wonder if there are any more around? I do miss my last little playtoy. No bother. If this one doesn't last long, I'll simply go collect him sooner."

Geta felt his stomach contract and forced the vomit he felt rising back. He knew exactly who Frieza was talking about. "You just made doubly sure that when I kill you today, Frieza," he spat, "I will do it slowly and painfully."

As Frieza was about to respond, the foot soldiers around him took action. "Why, you… No one threatens Lord Frieza! Attack!" one of them shouted. The group of soldiers charged.

Letting his hate fuel him, Geta raced forward as well to meet the pack of soldiers, making no further attempt to mask his ki or buffer his power level on their scouters. Fists flew and knees rose, and it only took seconds before the group was lying unconscious on the ground. Geta dropped the last body, whose torso was bent backward in an unnatural position for any species, and turned to look back at Frieza.

***

Nearby, several of the small band of rebels blinked in surprise. They stood stone still, staring into the distance, shocked looks on their faces. Bulma began to shuffle nervously.

"Guys? Hey, what's going on?" No one paid her any heed.

"I- I'm sensing another huge power level, and, uh, it..." Krillin stammered.

"This one makes Frieza seem like nothing," Tien exclaimed, finishing Krillin's line of thought.

Yamcha felt his heart beating faster as his fear renewed itself. "Y'know guys, it's not too late. We can still try to get off the planet if you want. Right?"

"You pathetic coward!" Vegeta chastised before turning his attention back to the scene before them. He growled, frustrated. ~Incredible! I've never sensed anything like this before. Where did someone with this kind of power come from? Where did another Saiyan come from?~

***

"Hmph. What a pleasant surprise," King Cold commented, sounding as bored as ever.

"You're right, father," Frieza agreed. "This may prove to be a bit more amusing than I had thought."

Geta's eyes narrowed. He was completely worn out, hungry and wanted to clean himself up, not waste his time here bickering with these idiots. So Frieza liked his tail, hmm? If the lizard's comments were any indication of the type of treatment his father had received at his hands, he wanted this pervert taken down sooner than later.

He knew just how he wanted it done.

"I've had more than enough of this dog and pony show," Geta spat. "I'm ending this right now."

King Cold let out a laugh. "One thing is certain. If nothing else, I'd say this guy here is quite the comedian." He seemed pleased at his observation.

"Hmph." Frieza laughed. "He is at that. I'll tell you what, punk. Let me give you a piece of advice. He who acquires his skills quickly is he who is the first to perish." Frieza seemed equally pleased at his own words of wisdom.

Geta snorted." Thanks for the hot tip," he commented sarcastically. "And now I have a tip for you, Frieza. Know your enemy. You've already made some pretty big assumptions about me, and since you know less than nothing about me, it's going to cost you."

Frieza shook with rage. "You insolent brat! You should really learn to control your tongue."

"Brat?" Geta questioned. "I'm twenty years old!"

"Well, your behavior speaks otherwise," Frieza retorted. "Besides, you aren't even man enough to show your face, you cowardly ape."

"Only to those who are either worthy of it, or those who I am about to kill," Geta commented dryly. His fist rose, the middle finger pointing upward. "Is this childish enough for you?"

King Cold sighed. "Just destroy him, already. We haven't got all day," he whined.

Frieza turned to him, annoyed. "Really, Father. Have some patience! I'm just trying to have a little fun, if you don't mind!" he snapped.

~This is ridiculous.~ "No, actually I'm forced to agree with your father in that you don't have all day. This is an idiotic conversation to say the least and I'm ending it," Geta interjected.

"Well." Frieza eyed him in contemplation. "If you're going to be that way, then I guess all that's left is for me to decide just how I'm going to kill you."

"Enough of this!" Geta shouted. "It's time you understood who you're really up against. You're about to have a fight with a Super Saiyan- and I'm not talking about waiting around for Goku." He grinned savagely. "Oh yes. I know all about him." Little fragments of stone began rising from the ground as a golden aura of power began to radiate around him.

Frieza's eyes grew wide. "No, it can't be!" he shouted.

"What is he?" King Cold asked his son, astonished as the bodies of the fallen soldiers were raised into the air and flung away. Large chunks of stone tore out of the ground and went the same way as the bodies.

"Well, since you're about to die now, Frieza…" Geta undid his helmet and slid it off. "I'll indulge you."

Frieza stared at him blankly, then began to laugh. "How did you grow so much, you pathetic, weak excuse of a Saiyan? I thought I beat you 'till you didn't grow any more! And however did you get that tail back? My, but you had me fooled for a moment there. Let me guess- you found the Namekian dragonballs and made a wish to get all better!" he taunted.

Emotionlessly, Geta stared at him as his hair flashed gold and his eyes teal. "Did it ever occur to you that I just might not be who you think I am?" His tail flicked back and forth behind him. Even it shone gold.

Frieza gaped at him. "It's… it's impossible!"

***

The ground began to shake forcefully. "It sounds like the fight's starting without us!" Tien shouted.

Bulma fell to the ground. "Ooh… somebody stop this thing, I wanna get off!"

"It might be my dad!" Gohan exclaimed.

"You think?" Krillin seemed skeptical.

"Who else would try to take on Frieza alone?"

Krillin didn't have a good answer. "I don't know."

Vegeta didn't seem convinced either. ~Kakarrot? No! I absolutely refuse to believe it! There's no way his power level could have increased this much! It's impossible! Even if he is a Super Saiyan!~ His eyes widened. Either this individual was the miracle he'd mentioned earlier, or an even greater threat than the one they'd come to face.

***

Frieza watched, terrified, as the young man transformed before him. King Cold noted his son backing off a few paces.

"So this is a Super Saiyan," he commented, unafraid.

Frieza continued to shake with fear. "It's those eyes…" He couldn't tear his own away, remembering the way Goku's looked on Namek. "They have the same eyes!" Suddenly, his terror turned into anger and he glared at the Saiyan standing before him.

Geta gave him a smirk that would have filled his father's heart with pride. Angry at being mocked, Frieza fired a blast at him.

"Ha! Take that, you filthy monkey!" Frieza crowed.

King Cold observed the fire burning in the distance. "My… I'd say that was all rather anticlimactic, wouldn't you? I mean, he certainly didn't last very long, now did he?"

"Well, what did you expect?" Frieza replied snidely. "He was only a-" He trailed off, eyes wide in terror as the smoke began to clear. Geta stood in it, completely unharmed and looking rather peevish. Again, Frieza's fright turned to anger, and he let out a growl.

"I really hope that's not the best you can do," Geta said casually. "You may as well give up now. You aren't going to win."

"We'll just see about that, boy! Take that!" he shouted as he fired a large energy blast from the palm of one hand.

"Frieza!" King Cold exclaimed. "You'll destroy us all!"

To Frieza's dismay, Geta held out his hand to receive the blast. ~Ah, just what I needed.~

"What?" Frieza exclaimed. The Saiyan was completely unscathed, and what was worse, he had absorbed the energy of the entire blast.

Geta crossed his arms and smirked at his adversary. "Nice try, Frieza," he quipped, "although when I absorb attacks, I usually prefer energy that's not so vile."

"This Saiyan is really something else," King Cold observed, earning a glare from his son.

"You've had two chances to put your money where your mouth is and kill me, Frieza. What do you say we play fair and give me a turn before you take another one?" Geta mocked him, laughing when the lizard scowled.

"Shut up, you miserable Saiyan! It's time I put an end to this." Chuckling, Frieza levitated up to hover above Geta and pointed at him, an energy ball reminiscent of the one he used to blow up planets growing rapidly at the tip of finger. He laughed maniacally as it rapidly grew bigger.

King Cold grew impatient. "Hurry up!" he demanded. "Are you going to end this or not?"

"Oh, just watch me, Father!" Frieza screamed, throwing the blast. "Now you're dead, you little piece of trash!" He laughed as his target stood his ground, allowing the blast to hit him and begin sinking slowly into the ground.

"You know Frieza, you could have done this from the start and saved us a good deal of effort," King Cold commented as his son landed beside him on his perch atop the spaceship.

"There's just no pleasing you sometimes, father," Frieza whined in complaint. He turned, noting the giant ball of ki's descent abruptly halt and actually begin to rise. "There's no way!" he exclaimed as the young Saiyan walked toward him, holding the enormous ball of energy up as effortlessly as he would a platter. "H-how?"

"Impossible! King Cold shouted in disbelief.

Frieza jumped down from the spaceship. "Why you little…"

"Excuse me," Geta began politely. "I believe you accidentally dropped this. Is it yours?"

Angrily, Frieza shot a small blast at the huge ki ball, causing it to become unstable and explode.

"Well done, Frieza. It only took you four tries to destroy that pathetic Saiyan." King Cold began laughing mockingly at his son.

"I was just warming up, Father. That's all. Really!" Frieza pouted.

King Cold continued to laugh. "Of course, Son. Of course."

Unbeknownst to them, Geta was watching from a cliff above them. He created an energy blast in his hands and aimed carefully. He had to get this just right to do what he had in mind. He paused, deciding to wait for a moment, and reabsorbed the ki ball. ~Hmmm... who says I can't have any fun before I kill him?~

A deep throated, sinister laugh echoed inside the crater. "Did you really think I'd be that easy to kill, Frieza? Tsk, tsk, silly man. It's my turn, now."

***

The eerie sound of Geta's voice carried out from the crater. "Was that a laugh?" Krillin asked, feeling a shiver creep up his spine.

"Yes," Piccolo confirmed, one ear tilted as he listened intently. "Now, be quiet so I can hear what it is they're saying."

"Finally!" Vegeta groused. "Yes, shut the hell up already!"

***

"Your turn?" Frieza repeated angrily. "Why, you little punk! You may have avoided my attacks so far, but I've never met a Saiyan yet who was able to defeat me!" he declared, completely disregarding his battle on Namek with Goku.

"Evidently not, idiot," came the disinterested response. "You're here polluting the air with your foul stench."

***

Piccolo sniggered. "I'm beginning to like this guy," he muttered.

"What did he say?" Gohan asked excitedly. "I can't hear that far away."

"He insulted Frieza, that's all. Now, hush and let me listen!"

****

Frieza fairly shook with rage. "That's it! When I find you, I'm going to tear you to pieces with my bare hands, you filthy ape!" he screamed.

Another laugh echoed through the air. "Not if I kill you first, you revolting lizard," Geta retorted. "Here's for calling me an ape. And oh, by the way... before you die, your last thought will be that it was at the hands of a Saiyan."

"You'll never destroy me, monkey!" Frieza screamed. "Show yourself, coward!"

"Awww, what's the matter? Aren't you able to find me, Frieza?" Even while he powered up again, he'd been masking his ki, and the lizards had no idea where he was. "Try this on for size. Now die, you sick son of a bitch!" Geta shouted, screaming in fury as he released the energy from his hands. "Galic Gun!"

"What a stupid monkey," Frieza shouted, laughing. "Thinking he could possibly harm..." He sensed the energy heading his way and just managed to leap aside, but the glowing purple blast incinerated King Cold immediately.

"Ooops, missed you." Geta laughed mockingly. "My bad!"

***

From their vantage point, the small group witnessing the fight could see the mysterious warrior from his hiding place. They watched his movements, fascinated, as he placed both hands facing the same direction behind his back at the side of his body. Energy glowed as he turned both palms outward while flinging his hands forward, releasing quite an impressive burst of power. They let out a collective gasp as the huge flash of purple light engulfed the sky, some of the backlash heading their way.

"Oh, Kami! Get down!" Bulma shrieked, diving down to the ground. The others wisely followed suit.

The devastation from the blast finally passed and they all jumped up to their feet. "What did he yell?" Bulma asked. "Was that-"

Vegeta's mouth had dropped open in surprise, but now he glowered in anger, his brow creased. "Yes, that was a Galic Gun! That's my attack!" he shouted. "How did he pull that off so effortlessly? I never showed anyone else how to execute it!"

"Well, obviously somebody did, sweet cheeks," Bulma contradicted him. She turned her attention back to the fight. "Oh, wow... that was some hit. It took out King Cold, but look, Frieza's still alive!"

***

"Father!" Frieza shrieked, looking for Geta fruitlessly. "You miserable monkey! When I get my hands on you-" Too late, he looked up to find his enemy above him, hands raised above his head in a two-handed fist, yelling a battle cry as he descended upon him.

As he powered back up, Geta's hands met their target squarely in the head. As Frieza fell, Geta disappeared and reappeared below him, thrusting his knee into Frieza's belly and driving him back up into the air. He repeated this move several times, and, knowing where the small group of warriors stood, knocked the lizard a little closer each time. His last blow landed the creature a safe distance behind them, startling the group. Bulma screamed and hid behind Piccolo, figuring he was big enough to block anything that happened to come her way.

Geta looked down at the small group. He was still far enough away that they could not make out his face, and since his hair was tied back in order to fit underneath the helmet there was no way they could really tell what he looked like. Reattaching the helmet to the neck opening of his gear, he raced over to where Frieza had landed.

"Had enough, lizard?" he hissed. Frieza hauled himself to his hands and knees, eyes narrowed with hatred, and spit upon his hated enemy's foot. Geta did not look amused. "So, you like my tail, do you?" he demanded, arms crossed over his chest. The thick tail whipped down and struck Frieza in the face, sending him sprawling. "Well, it doesn't like you!" With that, his tail lashed out and wound itself around the unfortunate lizard's neck, choking him. "I don't like you myself!" He landed a punch on Frieza's back, causing him to let out a grunt.

Frieza's own tail whipped out in Geta's direction but, expecting this, Geta grabbed it with both hands and blew it off rather casually with a ki blast. Frieza screamed as the remains of his tail hit the ground, blood trickling from the wound. He clawed at Geta's tail with his fingers, trying fruitlessly to free himself.

Grinning ferally, Geta resumed pummeling him, knowing full well that Frieza had done this to Vegeta on Namek. Déjà vu crept into the minds of the onlookers who had witnessed the beating as blood spurted from the vile Lord's mouth and his body hung limply.

Vegeta watched the beating, feeling extremely uncomfortable, not only because some of the others there had witnessed him being beaten in the same way, but because this warrior's method of punishment was so coincidental that it was almost as if he'd been there when it happened. ~This is getting way too personal...~

Geta stopped when grunts of pain no longer accompanied the beatings and peered at his victim. ~Ah good. Still alive.~

"Is… is he coming over here with Frieza?" Puar squeaked in fear.

"It sure looks like it," Krillin answered, gaping. He was amazed by what had just happened. Not only was this guy obviously Saiyan, but he'd just beat the daylights out of Frieza, and in the exact same manner Frieza had beaten Vegeta.

The young Saiyan continued to approach the group, causing them to back off a step. Suddenly he disappeared, reappearing a few paces in front of a startled Vegeta. He dropped the unfortunate Iceling in front of him and hauled him up, kicking him in the back of the knees. Frieza was forced to kneel before his hated adversary, unable to stand and save face.

The young man's head lowered and his right fist rose up to cover his heart.

"A gift for you, Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans," he murmured, backing away from the astonished prince. He powered down and stood aside, head still respectfully lowered but watching to see what would happen next.

Overcoming his surprise, Vegeta wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Should he be offended that this probably third-class warrior had embarrassed him by doing what he himself could not accomplish and then offering him the coup de grâce, or prideful because Frieza had fallen at the hands of a Saiyan and that he, the Prince of Saiyans, had been given the honor of finishing him off himself? He didn't even know for certain that this man was a Saiyan, although it was pretty obvious. How that could be the case was shoved to the back of his mind for later as the opportunity for the latter won out, his blood thirst heightening at an alarming level. He turned to the group and sneered. "If you thought what this punk did was brutal, you weaklings had better cover your eyes and run now," he warned, "because that was tame compared to what I'm going to do to this filthy lizard."

Needless to say, they took his advice.

***

When there was nothing but ashes left of Frieza, Vegeta turned to the man who'd delivered them and crossed his arms. "Explain yourself, warrior. Just who are you, and where did you come from?"

Gohan stepped forward. "He's a Saiyan, Vegeta," he announced. "He's a Super Saiyan! You saw him-uff!" He was cut off by Vegeta's hand in his face.

"How could he be a Saiyan, Boy? Your idiot father and I are the only ones left besides you and the Woman's whelp," he snarled, eliciting a gasp of insult from Bulma.

"You stinking creep!" she screeched. "How can you refer to your own son that way?"

He ignored her. "Well? Explain it to me, Brat! Or better yet, you answer me!" he demanded of the warrior standing nearby.

The hair on Geta's tail bristled. ~Ever the arrogant jerk,~ he thought, then mentally smacked himself. This was his father, arrogant jerk or not, and he at least deserved a measure of respect for that. "I am Saiyan," he replied curtly, "and I will answer the rest of your questions after Goku has arrived."

"What?" Vegeta shouted, incensed. "I demand that you answer my question immediately! And what's more, who told you how to do a Galic Gun? That's my attack that I created myself!"

"He should be arriving in…" Geta glanced down at his watch, "two hours, thirteen minutes. Meanwhile, I would truly appreciate a hot shower and a meal, Ms. Briefs," he requested, ignoring his father, who stood sputtering beside him.

"Bulma, please," she corrected him cheerfully. "And of course, I'd be more than happy to accommodate whatever needs you have."

"Stay out of this, wench!" Vegeta roared. He didn't appreciate being pushed aside as if his demands meant nothing. "You will do as I-"

Bulma strode up to him defiantly. "Can it, Veg-head," she snapped, poking him hard in the chest. "He did, after all, just pull off your miracle by defeating Frieza, something you," she poked him again, "the oh so mighty Prince of all Saiyans, couldn't do. So why don't you just chill out and give the poor guy a break?" She turned to Geta. "After all that, I'll bet you're famished, aren't you?"

Before Vegeta could respond, Geta spoke up. "With all due respect, Ms. Briefs, he is my prince, and I would appreciate it if you did not dishonor him in such a fashion." Vegeta smirked at her shocked look. "And I would appreciate it if you, Prince Vegeta, did not treat the mother of your son or any other female in such a deplorable fashion," he shot at Vegeta, suppressing a growl. He'd seen way too much of it during the most impressionable years of his life and didn't want the baby at home witnessing the same behavior.

"Why you-" Vegeta began, but he was interrupted by Bulma.

"Hey, how did you know…" she exclaimed, surprised. She had never actually said that she was the mother of Vegeta's aforementioned son, but upon further contemplation, after Vegeta's rude comment about 'the Woman's whelp' she figured that it was pretty obvious. She was about to say something else but stopped when Geta suddenly sneezed violently.

He sniffled. "Is-" He didn't get very far when he sneezed again, even harder this time. "Is there a c-cat-" He sneezed a third time, violently enough that he nearly lost his helmet in the process.

"Hey, are you okay, mister?" Gohan frowned, concerned.

It was then that Geta noticed that Puar was hovering right next to him and let out a startled shriek quite unbefitting of a Saiyan warrior. "No! Get away!" he yelped, staggering backwards. He sneezed still again.

Bulma frowned. "What? It's only Puar. She's perfectly... harmless?" Her eyes widened when she realized that he was gasping for breath.

They all stood staring as the man who'd just pummeled Frieza himself without even breaking a sweat began to wheeze. He made a fist and hit himself in the chest. That obviously didn't work, because the wheezing noises rapidly faded as he found himself unable to draw in any more breath.

"Guys, he's turning purple," Krillin exclaimed. "Can you breathe, buddy?"

Geta shook his head violently in response, anxiously fishing through his pocket with trembling hands for the capsule that would save his life. ~I forgot about the cat! Where is that capsule?~ He could feel his throat continue to constrict, and in his panic he hadn't drawn a very deep breath. ~I'd better have stuck it in my gear!~

"It's not Puar, is it?" Gohan asked. His eyes widened when Geta nodded. "You're allergic to cats?" he continued incredulously. "Nothing makes me sick, and I'm half human!"

Geta resisted the urge to flip his former Sensei off. The kid was, after all, only five years old and had, in his time, saved his butt numerous times. ~Shut up, Gohan! Never been sick in my life... except when it comes to damn cats- thank goodness!~ Finding the capsule, he let it fall to the ground and dropped to his knees to grab the epi-pen which had been inside.

"Sick because of a mere feline? Hmph. That just proves he's not Saiyan."

"I'd like to see you do the things he was doing, Your Perfectness."

"Yamcha... Quit provoking him-"

"Would you like me to show you the meaning of pain, you scrawny little freak?"

"Shut up, both of you!"

The bickering stopped and a couple of them flinched when Geta broke the case of the epi-pen open and jabbed the needle into his thigh. After a moment he pulled it back out and began rubbing the area vigorously.

"Mister?"

Geta sat up as straight as possible, gasping for air greedily. He drew in a series of ragged breaths, his body relaxing as he finally felt relief. "I'm fine," he managed, dragging himself to his feet.

"All right, I've waited long enough," Vegeta snarled. "Who are you, Boy?"

Geta pursed his lips. He was embarrassed that this had happened, especially at such an inopportune time. "It's still better than two hours before Goku arrives. I think I'll take you up on that shower in the meantime." He powered up and blasted into the air.

Grabbing onto the closest person, who happened to be Vegeta since no one else had bothered to step forward- a smart move- Bulma readied herself to leave. "Come on, let's go already!"

"Unhand me, Woman!" Vegeta growled, shaking her loose.

"Oh, really?" Bulma retorted. "That's not what you said that day Natsue said I could-"

"Oh, shut up, Woman," he hissed, grabbing her around the waist like a sack of potatoes and flying off after the rapidly disappearing warrior.

***

Geta landed on the front lawn and waited for the others, who arrived momentarily. He stood, arms crossed and a frown on his face. He didn't want to let on who he was just yet, but it had always disturbed him how his parents treated each other, most especially his father's behavior. His mother was a sweet, loving woman, despite her headstrong attitude, and it pained his heart to see her unhappiness. He scowled when Vegeta shoved her out of his grasp distastefully and crossed his arms upon landing.

Bulma picked herself up, retaining her dignity, and headed into the house. "This way," she prompted, opening the door and motioning for him to follow. "I'll see if I can't find you something to wear while you're showering." She paused, considering the task at hand. ~This may prove to be more difficult than I'd thought.~ "Exactly how tall are you?"

"Uhm… seven two, two and a half," he muttered uncomfortably, not wanting the others to hear and mock his father. It was indeed his father's blood which had gifted him his height, and Frieza's earlier comment was reinforcement of that truth.

"Ooookay… I don't know if I have much, but I'll look," she commented.

"As long as you have a robe I should be fine," he answered in a low voice. "I can always wash my clothes-"

Geta barely avoided colliding into Bulma as she stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him critically. "These rags?" she exclaimed. "If I were you, I'd burn them. No offense," she added.

~Good ol' Mother.~ "None taken. But before you do…" He sighed. "I'll explain along with everything else later."

Bulma sauntered into the bathroom and up to the linen closet, pulling out a huge fluffy towel and a wash cloth. "Here you go," she chirped, putting them on the countertop and turning back to the linen closet. "Robe, robe… I know I have a robe-ah!" Pulling it out, she unfolded it and regarded him, tilting her head and holding it up to him. Embarrassed, he allowed it, knowing better than to try to stop her.

"B, wouldja just leave the poor guy alone?" Krillin pleaded, noting the blush that peeked out from under the unfortunate man's face shield. "Just give him the robe and let him wash up, okay?"

"Cheese 'n' crackers Krillin, chill." She pursed her lips and shot him a look. "I don't want the 'poor guy' worrying about everyone-"

"It's fine, thank you," Geta interrupted, snatching the robe from her and shoving it next to the towel. "It will do nicely." He took a step toward the door, indicating his desire for privacy.

"Okay… any toiletries you might need should be in the medicine cabinet or under the sink. Let me know if you need anything else," Bulma responded, reaching for the doorknob to shut the door after herself. Just before the door closed, Geta reached out to hold it open.

"Before you go…" he began, reaching into a pocket of his gear and pulling out the capsule containing the time machine, "take this. It should answer a few of your questions." ~And keep you occupied long enough to give me a decent amount of time to finish here,~ he thought with amusement. Bulma watched, absolutely fascinated, as he pressed his thumb against the little box, popping it open, then dropped the capsule in her hand.

"It's secured. What's the code?" she asked, examining it.

"I'll give you a hint," he responded, grinning. "It's the month and day of the birthday of someone… close to you." With that, he shut the door, leaving her alone in her confusion.

***

"It's the birthday of someone close to me is what he told me," she informed the group gathered around her. Only Vegeta stood by himself. Even Piccolo seemed mildly interested. "Let's see… I'll try Mom's. Hmm. Dad? No. Yamcha, what's your b-day? Wait! Don't tell me. June 10th," she said smugly as the sniggers started.

Yamcha sighed. "I forget your birthday once and I never hear the end of it!"

"That didn't work… Krillin? You're sometime in February, aren't you?"

"Yup. February 22nd."

"Hmm. That didn't work, either. Gohan, what's Goku's birthday? I mean, the one he goes by. July, right?"

"Right. The 29th," Gohan responded.

Bulma sighed. Wrong again. "This is going to take forever!"

***

"I've been through every person's birth date that I can think of," Bulma moaned. "Still nothing!"

"Well, what about Vegeta's?" Krillin suggested. Vegeta let out a "hmph" and turned his head away.

Since Bulma had tuned Vegeta out and was still playing with the dials, she didn't notice his reaction. "I've already tried him. It didn't work, remember?"

"No, no. Not the baby Vegeta, the adult one," Krillin corrected her.

Bulma snorted. "Mr. Sourpuss over there? Yeah right." She paused, turning the capsule around in her fingers in desperation. Her scientific mind couldn't handle not being able to crack such an easy thing, especially given the 'clue', which should have made it a piece of cake to solve. "Okay, whatever," she relented. "Hey Vegeta! What's your birthday?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I have no intention of participating in your ridiculous game, Woman," he retorted, turning his attention elsewhere.

Bulma's hands flew to her hips. "Then why are you standing around here wasting time with us weaklings instead of training, huh?" There was no response other than a low growl from the other side of the tree he was leaning against. She grinned. ~Score one for Bulma!~ "Just tell me!"

"You know she won't shut up until you tell her, so why don't you just get it over-"

"I can handle this myself Yamcha!" Bulma yelled. "Thank you so very much for your unsolicited and unwanted opinion."

Yamcha shrugged, grinning. "Just an observation, Babe."

"C'mon, Vegeta," she coaxed. "If you tell me, I won't bother-"

~Maybe she really will shut up if I tell her. It's not like it makes any difference if the morons know or not.~ "Do you mean here or on planet Vegeta?" he interrupted.

Bulma blinked. She hadn't thought of that. "Oh. Right. Uhm… here, I guess," she ventured. When Vegeta didn't respond, she grew impatient. "Well?" she snapped. "Are you going to tell us or not?"

"Let me think, Woman!" Vegeta snapped back just as impatiently. "I know what it is on Vegeta. Let me correspond it to the correct day here," he growled. There was another brief pause, during which Bulma would have sworn to Kami she saw him counting on his fingers. "August 30th," he finally responded.

"Finally!" Bulma turned the little dials, but nothing happened. She cursed loudly and screeched in frustration, stomping her foot. "Oooh! This is infuriating!"

"Shut up and try turning the dials to 1502," Vegeta said grumpily. "Please Kami, let it be right so she shuts the hell up!" he shouted to the sky, a hint of weariness in his voice.

"You ass- Kami!" she shouted, almost dropping the capsule as the little plunger popped out. A rash of goose bumps broke out over her flesh, making her shiver. Vegeta, of all people? "How… that doesn't make any sense."

"Yes, it does. Planet Vegeta's year is… was divided into months of a different length than on this planet, and we used more months than you do," he responded, coming around to lean up against the side of the tree facing them. "Whoever thought of that actually had a little sense."

Bulma faked a loud gasp. "Do my ears deceive me? Was that a compliment to the programmer I just heard?"

"However," Vegeta continued, ignoring her comment, "whoever the programmer is, he or she just stepped way over the line of becoming too personal," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "Who would have known when my birthday was? No one here would."

"You're right… this is creepy. I mean, even I didn't know," Bulma agreed. "How could what's-his-name have known either? Who told him if he didn't know?"

"Open the capsule immediately," Vegeta ordered, "and get away from it." He poised himself, ready for action.

"But why would he want to hurt us? He's a Saiyan too, and he saved us from Frieza-"

"Shut your trap, Brat!" Vegeta shouted, silencing the young demi-Saiyan who'd unintentionally joined the growing list of someone who had rubbed his face in his failure. "Just open the damned capsule, Woman!"

Amazingly Bulma did not complain about being ordered around but just did as she was told. "Okay, I'm pushing the plunger now and we don't know what it is or how big, so everyone back off," she instructed, tossing the capsule into the grass and running back.

The capsule burst open, revealing a strange, round device made of glass and metal. A circle of curious onlookers formed around it and leaned in closer, puzzled as to what it might be.

"What is it?" Tien asked, voicing the questing they'd all been wondering.

Piccolo stepped forward, glancing over their huddled forms. "It looks like a pod large enough to transport one person," he decided. "See the seat and the controls?"

Bulma squeezed her way through the bodies so she could look from Piccolo's point of view. "You're… you're right," she breathed, reaching out to touch the small pod. They all jumped back in surprise as the glass dome opened.

"How did you know how to open it?" Gohan asked, amazed. "We didn't even know what it was until Piccolo said anything."

"Because…" Bulma paused, in shock herself. "Because it's… I have a very crude schematic of this pod in my lab," she whispered, her face white as a sheet. All eyes rose from the pod to look at her. "This one is infinitely better than my drafts, but it's definitely the same machine."

"What do you mean, Woman?" Vegeta demanded. "What is this device?"

She looked up at him and their eyes locked. "It's for time travel," she said in a small voice.

"Time travel, bah! Impossible," Vegeta dismissed the idea with a sneer and a wave of his hand.

"I disagree, Vegeta," Piccolo contradicted him. "I think it's entirely possible. If this mysterious man did indeed travel here from another time, and my assumption would be the future, it would explain a lot. How did he know Frieza would be here, and arrive at the precise time and place he did? What if he's right about Goku coming back today? What else does he know? He said he would 'answer all of your questions' when you asked him who he was." His arms folded over his chest.

Bulma was only half listening to the conversation, absorbed in her examination of the pod. Could it really be her design? Was it truly her time capsule? She climbed inside and sat in the seat, touching and peering at everything. A wave of excitement rushed over her. This was… wait! She grabbed a small, worn picture from where it had been stuck near the control panel and stared at it in shock. It was a snapshot of her holding a baby that looked remarkably like an older version of her own baby in one arm, the other arm wrapped around Vegeta's neck to entrap him. She had apparently caught Vegeta unaware and was in the act of kissing his cheek, obvious amusement on her face at the startled and peeved look he was giving to whoever dared to photograph him. It would have been a normal enough picture, except for the fact that the baby in it had to be well over a year old, and she did not remember a situation even remotely familiar to this one where a picture had been taken during the short time Vegeta had actually been on Earth. Even if she did remember such a picture, how did it get inside this pod? "Vegeta!" she shrieked, making them all jump nearly out of their skins. "Look at this! I know who this guy is! You have to see this picture!"

"Stop shrieking, Bulma!" he shouted, snatching the photograph she held up from her hand. "This had better be…" He stopped mid-sentence and stared at the picture, a look on his face none of them had ever thought they'd see the likes of- wide eyed and gaping. His eyes slowly moved from the picture to Bulma. "You don't think… no!"

"I'm telling you, Vegeta, it's got to be! How else can you explain this picture, or anything else that happened today?" she demanded. "Look at him!" She pointed to the baby. "Even if that wasn't you he's much too old! This hasn't even happened yet!"

Vegeta's mouth opened, then shut. He stared at her, blinked twice, and then flew for the house before anyone could ask to see the picture. Bulma scrambled out of the pod, following him as fast as her feet could carry her. Exchanging confused looks, everyone else ran toward the house.

***

Geta sighed in relief, draping his towel around his neck to catch any drips from his long wet hair. That shower and shave had felt so good. It had been ages since he'd indulged in a luxury like this! ~Luxury,~ he thought ruefully, ~and me a Briefs!~ He put on the robe, dismayed to find that although it covered him, it didn't leave much to the imagination. "I'd better find something else," he mumbled, reaching for the doorknob. Just as his hand closed around it he paused, feeling for the ki of the others. They were still outside, to his relief, no doubt frustrated over not being able to open the capsule. He made out a shriek and a curse word from Bulma and grinned, exiting the bathroom and heading for the bedrooms. He poked his head into one of them. "Yep, this is still the one," he mumbled again as he recognized some of Bulma's things. He headed for the dresser and after a short search found what he was looking for. "Clean underwear!" he almost shouted in glee as he slipped the boxers he'd found on.

He discarded the robe in the bathroom and was heading toward the kitchen when he heard a noise. He paused, waiting for it again. Sure enough, the wail of an infant could be heard from one of the rooms. He went inside and peered down into the bassinette by the bed to see the infant version of himself, fists flailing and face red as he screamed loudly enough to wake the dead. ~This is weird,~ he thought to himself as he lifted the squalling infant up. "No wonder you're screaming. You stink, kiddo," he commented sympathetically, laying the baby on the changing table nearby. As he changed its diaper, the baby quit crying and looked up at him with big, glistening blue eyes. Geta couldn't help but grin. "I was a cutie," he crooned at the baby, picking him up again and taking him along to the kitchen. "Yes, I was!" The baby burbled happily, satisfied now that he was nestled securely in the crook of his 'big brother's' arm after having spent a good part of the day locked in the lab then alone in his crib with no one but robots for company. This was much better! Poking around, Geta found a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and almost cheered in his excitement. Grabbing the Doritos, he headed for the den and picked up the remote, flipping channels until he found something with which to amuse himself.

***

Vegeta burst into the house and flew in the direction of the ki he'd sensed, Bulma hot on his heels. Loud laughter came from the den and, looking at each other in surprise, they headed that direction.

Upon entering the den, they found the young man in question sitting cross-legged on the couch with his back to them watching a rerun of Saturday Night Live. The studio audience's laughing was drowned out by another roar of hysterics as he shook with laughter, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. "Oh, I love Will Ferrell… hey, not that way, so don't look at me like that, you munchkin," he intoned softly, his voice with a teasing note to it. As the television got a little quieter, they could hear a soft thumping noise. Presently a loud burp issued from the couch and, chuckling, their visitor picked up the source of the noise and held it up in front of his face.

"Hey, good one! You did yourself proud, kiddo!" he exclaimed to the baby he held, who cooed and patted one chubby hand against his caretaker's face. Bulma's eyes widened in alarm at the confirmation that a stranger was indeed holding her baby and started forward, but Vegeta's hand shot out to hold her back. Aware that he was being watched, the young man straightened up and placed the baby over his shoulder, continuing to pat the little back gently. He cleared his throat before speaking. "He was smelly and hungry, so we took care of that, didn't we little buddy?"

The pair standing in the doorway heard the deep voice from the other side of the couch and exchanged still another quick glance. When they didn't respond, he took in a deep breath, swallowed and prepared to turn around.

"V... Geta?" Bulma squeaked, her voice a tiny whisper. Based on the resulting twitch from the occupant of the couch, she knew they had guessed appropriately.

The baby hiccupped, breaking the silence.

Geta turned his head slowly to face them over the back of the couch.

An almost mirror image of the man standing beside her greeted Bulma's vision. Aside from the addition of a rather distinguished looking mustache and goatee, he had the same handsome face, the same dark hair with its sharply defined hairline, the same pained look on his face, in his eyes... in those piercing blue eyes. He smiled, eyes softening when he saw her. "Hello, young mother," he greeted softly.

Bulma promptly fainted.

Somehow expecting this despite his mother's tough girl attitude, Geta moved faster than the eye could follow to catch her in his free arm just as her knees started to buckle. "Mother?" he asked nervously. "Mother, are you all right?" When she didn't answer, he turned to his father. "Here, hold him," he instructed, slipping the baby into its startled father's hands without waiting for an answer. He patted Bulma's cheek gently. "Mother?"

Her eyes fluttered open, then widened as she saw who it was supporting her. "It's all right," his voice whispered soothingly. "Here, sit down on the couch, okay?" He guided her over to it and sat her down. "Did you want a glass of water-"

"Hey!" Vegeta shouted peevishly, "that's mine!"

Bulma scowled at him. "You don't have to be so possessive, Vegeta," she griped, scowling at him. "My goodness, you'd almost think he cared," she said sarcastically, still hurt by the way he'd been treating her in front of the others.

"I'm not talking about you, you foolish woman!" Vegeta contradicted her. He pointed to Geta. "I'm talking about those!"

"Yeah, aren't they great? I've never worn silk boxers before," Geta commented, grinning at his mother so Vegeta couldn't see. A slow smile found its way across her face. Was he deliberately trying to tick off his father? She was beginning to like him already.

"Yes, and they're mine," Vegeta spluttered. "How dare you invade my private space and-"

Geta winked at his mother before turning to face his father. "Hey, hey, Father, chill… I just didn't think you'd want to see me with my junk hanging out from underneath my robe," he explained, managing to hide his amusement at his father's expression upon hearing his son's choice of words. "If you feel so strongly about it, I'll give 'em back," he promised, his thumbs hooking underneath the elastic at the waist. "Here ya go-"

"Hold it there, Buster," Bulma interrupted with a giggle, then paused. "Wait a minute here… what son of mine would never have owned silk boxers?" She shook her head, then shrugged. "Anyway, I think your dear old dad can spare a pair of underwear," she retorted, shooting an accusing look Vegeta's way.

Just then, the outside door leading to the kitchen burst open, and they heard voices as the rest of the group ran in.

"I can't believe she locked us out!"

"Can't say I blame her, Yamcha. I'd lock you out too."

"Ouch! Krillin one, Yamcha zippo!"

"Aren't you at all the least bit interested in this time travel device or this mysterious Saiyan? I for one want some answers."

Geta's eyes widened, realizing that his current state of undress was about to be noticed by the rest of the group, who were rapidly approaching their way. He shot his parents a beseeching look. "I don't… I don't want them to see me like this," he almost pleaded, grabbing the ends of the towel around his neck and wringing them in his hands. "I don't want anyone's pity." It was then, now that the towel was no longer covering her son's upper body, that Bulma realized how thin, how utterly emaciated he was. He turned to face the doorway, exposing his back to them.

Bulma gave Vegeta a little nudge to get his attention without speaking and indicated their son. "He's so skinny!" her lips read.

"I see, Woman," Vegeta responded in kind. He looked shocked. Shouldn't the son of a powerful prince and the most independently wealthy woman in Western Country- if not the world- have access to the absolute best of everything? How was this even possible?

Each vertebrae of Geta's spine jutted sharply against his skin, which clung close to his ribs and shoulder blades. His bent elbows were thin and knobby. The young man was starving. He had hardly an ounce of anything other than skin on his frame. His body was covered by a multitude of scars, bruises and other obvious signs of physical abuse. How he had held up against the likes of Frieza and not keeled over was a complete mystery.

"Hey, guys!" Krillin shouted. "What's going on? Did you figure out who this mystery person is yet?"

"Vegeta…" Bulma looked at him imploringly as she moved over toward their son. "Take care of this, okay?"

A slow smile spread over his face. "Surrrrre… no problem." He started for the doorway.

Bulma sighed. "No blasting anyone."

"You spoil all my fun," he mock pouted, exiting the room. He only made it a couple of paces before the others caught up to him.

"Is he really a Saiyan, Vegeta?" Gohan asked breathlessly, excitement radiating from his face. He paused when he saw the more than annoyed look on Vegeta's face.

"Leave," Vegeta commanded, pointing the way they'd come.

Piccolo growled at him. "I want to know what's going on, Vegeta," he demanded, "especially if this individual is indeed from the future."

Vegeta's teeth bared ferociously. "The Woman requested that you leave," he responded, the vicious look becoming an almost gleeful smirk. "Didn't you, Bulma?" he called over his shoulder.

"Don't make me come out there, gentlemen," Bulma's voice responded. "There will be time for this later. Give us some space, okay?" She paused. "Veg, what was that you were saying about wanting humanoid training bots? You know, the kind that shriek in pain and bleed all over when you rough them up?"

The smirk widened into a Cheshire cat's grin. So, she had remembered that conversation. ~The woman isn't as bad to put up with as she tries to be. Especially when she's mad... that's when she's damn hot...~ Vegeta caught himself before his mind got too far off track. This was not the best time to be thinking with his shorts.

"Uhm, guys?" Yamcha sounded like he was this side of wetting himself. "Bulma's right. We can come visit later, right?"

"You're such a wussy boy," Gohan chided him. "Even I'm scared of fewer things than you, and I'm only six."

"Now!" Vegeta shouted.

The baby in his arms began to wail.

"Awww, damn it!" Vegeta cursed, suddenly realizing that not only was his infant son crying and he had absolutely no idea of how to make him stop, but he'd been caught cradling a baby in his arms and was unconsciously patting its fat little leg gently. Not a very macho or princely thing to be doing. "Get outta here!"

"We'll meet you back there in… how much time is left?" Bulma paused and they could hear a low voice rumble to her in return. "In almost an hour and a half. Now scoot! Give the poor guy an hour's worth of privacy, will you?"

Grumbling, the group began to trudge back to the front door.

"No fair, I wanted to see who it was."

"He's gotta be a Saiyan! Did you see his tail? Cool!"

"Did you see how Vegeta was holding the baby? He'd better use two hands or Bulma will wring his neck."

"Good, maybe Bulma will kill him and I-"

"I'd give it up if I were you, Yamcha… wait a minute. Vegeta was holding a baby. Never thought I'd see-"

Their voices were quieted as the door shut behind them. Vegeta exhaled loudly and locked the door. "Good riddance." He looked down at his tearful son and grimaced. "Yeah, me too, Brat," he grumbled, heading back to the den.

"Just humor the mother in me, okay?" Bulma was inspecting her rather embarrassed and humiliated son closely when Vegeta reentered the den. "Geta... dear Kami, how did this happen to you?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she raised them to meet his.

"Don't you think the poor guy deserves to be left alone for even a second, Woman? Quit harassing him, or don't blame me when he blasts you." Vegeta paused as the baby's wails grew louder. "And what the hell is the matter with this brat?" he demanded tersely. "He won't stop screaming, and it's hurting my ears!"

"First of all, your demeanor and tone of voice are not helping," Bulma began calmly, not bothering to turn around to look at him. "You're obviously putting out a lot of angry vibes that he doesn't like. Secondly, that's an 'I'm uncomfortable' cry, and since he was just changed and fed, I'd wager that either he still has some air in his tummy or he doesn't like the way you're holding him. After the burp Geta got out of him, I'd guess the latter over the former." She turned around with a critical eye, then one eyebrow shot up. "Dearest," she began, amused by the glare she got in response, "I realize that you've been without your tail for a while, but you're still the honest to goodness last person I thought I'd have to scold for doing that, especially after the way you chewed Yamcha to bits today." She nodded toward them with her chin.

"What are you babbling about, Woman?" Vegeta demanded, his eyes following her gaze. Suddenly he started in surprise; he too had caught the infant's tail between his arm and body. An actual look of distress crossed his face as he quickly removed the tiny tail from its trap, inspecting it carefully. "Okay, all right. I didn't do it on purpose, Brat. Why are you still shrieking? I'm not yelling at you," he told the wailing baby between clenched teeth. "Woman, here. Take him. I don't know anything about brats and I sure don't know what he wants." Vegeta held his son out toward its mother.

Bulma shook her head. "It's about time you learned, then." She turned away. "Lift him up and hold him gently against your shoulder," she instructed him. "I know you've seen me do it and Geta just held him that way not two minutes ago, so you can't play ignorant like you have no idea what I'm talking about." She eyed her son. "You do prefer Geta, right?"

"Geta please, yes. It's easier that way."

"Well, I suppose VJ it is for the baby, then," Bulma mused.

Vegeta glared at the back of her head. Even worse than the woman expecting him to babysit this brat was her changing the subject completely and then leaving him out of the conversation; he was positive she was doing it simply to annoy him. "You're joking, right? The Prince of All Saiyans does not play nursemaid to infant brats," he declared haughtily. "Besides, he'll probably just throw up all over me." He paused, sneering. "Although it could only be an improvement to this ugly pink shirt you've forced me to wear."

"Good! I'm glad we're in agreement then," Bulma declared happily. "Yeah, he's been crying a lot so he probably will throw up. Good call." She giggled at the noise Vegeta made. "Come, now. That's what burping cloths are for." She directed her attention to Geta. "You didn't happen to bring one with you, did you?"

Geta shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to be in the middle of this. "Uhm, yes... On the couch over there," he mumbled, pointing. He crossed his arms over his chest, shivering as a chill ran over him. ~I really need to find something to wear.~

Vegeta growled and got the cloth. "If last time is any indication, you won't shut up until I do this, will you?"

"Nope," came the immediate answer. "Just lay the cloth over your shoulder and rest the baby... that's it. See? That isn't so bad, is it? Now, rub his little back gently. See? He loves being held by men." She smiled.

The child had indeed quieted and was resting comfortably against Vegeta's shoulder, but what Bulma had said completely unnerved him. He looked down at the baby with a disturbed expression. "You're not saying this kid is..." He shot a look at Geta. "You like other males?" Vegeta's voice sounded panicked.

Geta raised his hands up, forming the 'time out' sign. "Whoa, whoa... hold on. With babies it's a security thing, I assure you," he informed his wary looking father. "They feel safe. Although," he continued, absently fingering his goatee in contemplation, "Mother did say that I never liked Yamcha to hold me." He grinned as Bulma began to laugh. "I was evidently a child of exquisite taste, even as a baby. But, that having been said, I feel I must assure you that I am straighter than the proverbial nail." A little smile flickered at the corner of his mouth as he obviously recalled something specific to mind.

Vegeta let out his breath, relieved. "That's all I'd need. Princess Vegeta jokes," he grumbled.

"Oh, calm down, Veggie," Bulma chided.

"Quit calling me that!" he snapped tersely.

"No one is going to be making any princess jokes," Bulma continued, ignoring his outburst.

"Maybe not, but they were laughing when they saw me holding this kid," he shot back distastefully.

"Excuse me, your great and holy eminence-"

"At least you've finally got something right today."

"Uhm... Mother, Father? I think we should-"

"Get over yourself, Vegeta. You're not as glorious and awesome as you'd like to think you are," Bulma informed him sarcastically.

"And maybe you're not as perfect and gorgeous and intellectually above the rest of us as you openly claim to be." Vegeta smirked at her as her face flushed with anger.

"Hey, why don't we-"

"There is nothing embarrassing about holding a baby, especially one's own child. If you're going to let the fact that someone saw you holding your own son bother you, then there's something a lot deeper than worrying about what other people think about you doing that going on upstairs than you care to admit!" she retorted, pointing to her temple for emphasis.

"Oh? I'd better take it from the experts then." Vegeta's sarcasm was thick enough to spread with a knife. "What, pray tell, could that be?"

"Hey, guys..."

"For your information," Bulma responded, her own words thick with sarcasm, "I do have a minor in human psychology. But I'm positively delighted to inform you that you've been just as easy, if not easier, to manipulate than the rest of us inferiorly lobed humans." Bulma smirked at him as he began to growl audibly. "Where would you like me to start? I've got two especially good ones you can pick from. Would you like to talk about your 'Daddy never loved me' complex or the 'Everyone picks on me because I have to shop in the little boy's pants section' one?"

Vegeta went positively red with rage. "That-"

"Stop it now! Both of you!" Geta bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Would you like me to tell you how this conversation will continue? Father will yell, 'That does it, Woman!' and Mother will say, 'And just what are you going to do, huh?' and follow it with some sarcastic comment." His clawed hands covered his face, the fingertips rubbing at his temples. "Kami, I grew up with this garbage for the first three years of my life, which as you know are the most impressionable ones, and I'll be Kami damned if I'm going to idly sit by and watch you two do this to that child, too!" he shouted. "Do neither of you have any shame? Or is it acceptable to heap verbal abuse on each other in front of your own children?"

The room fell dead silent, then the baby began to wail.

Geta drew in a deep breath. "I apologize," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No, you're right," Bulma told him, her voice wavering slightly. "You've actually given me a lot of insight. I'm sorry that you had to see this type of behavior growing up. And I'm sorry I said what I did to you too, Vegeta," she murmured, swallowing her pride. "It was demeaning and unfair." She stared away in the distance, not looking at either off them.

Geta looked at his father, shooting one eyebrow up as if to demand 'say something!' of him.

"Yeah," Vegeta mumbled, figuring rightly that his son would be just as stubborn as his mother could be. He rubbed the whimpering baby's back gently. ~What would be the point of ignoring the child now other than proving I'm an even bigger jerk than they already think I am?~ <Hush now, child,> he murmured in his native tongue. <Stop crying.>

"Let's just start over, please," Bulma entreated. "Geta, you need something to wear." She pursed her lips in contemplation. "I honestly don't think I can come up with anything here."

Geta fought down a feeling of panic. "Do you know where you can get something, at least for now?"

She thought about it a moment. "Do you know your inseam?" she asked, eyeing him with scrutiny. ~This is going to be difficult.~

Geta shook his head. "Sorry... I don't know any of them. I haven't been measured in ages." He paused. "Other than my height, anyway." He looked uncomfortable.

Bulma pursed her lips. "There's a store in Satan City that sells hard to find sizes. I could probably find you something for now until we can make it to my tailor. He's excellent." She looked over at Vegeta. "You could use some new clothes, yourself."

Vegeta scowled. "I don't want-"

"All right, it's settled then," Bulma decided. "You two watch the baby and get ready as best as you can while I'm gone. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"No problem," Geta agreed. Vegeta didn't say anything.

"Okay, I'm off. Whoops, wait a second." She walked over to Geta and stood beside him. "Let's see... your waist comes up to here on me. Show me your arm..." She compared it to her own. "Okay, one last thing. I know what chest and waist size your father takes, so let's compare." With that, she gave her surprised son a hug, smiled, and walked out of the room, winking at Vegeta as she left.

Geta smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting how much one little hug can say, don't you think? I wonder if she'll hug the salesman, too."

"Hmph," was the only response he got, but Geta could see a faint blush that his father was unable to hide.

"I hope it doesn't take Mother too long," Geta commented. "I'm cold." He shivered and put the towel back around his shoulders. "I suppose it might also help somewhat if I finished drying my hair," he mused.

Vegeta gave his son an odd look. "Why don't you just use your ki to dry it?"

Geta looked a little embarrassed. "Well, as you can see, my hair has gotten quite long and is in serious need of a cut. Let's just say that while I inherited your gravity defying hair, right now it would make yours look tame." He grinned sheepishly. "Unless you'd like to help me cut it," he suggested.

Vegeta's eyebrow raised; cut another Saiyan's hair? "I'd prefer that you ask your mother to do it," he responded. "On planet Vegeta, when a Saiyan's hair had been cut, everyone knew that he had been disgraced. Your hair is like Kakarrot's brat's hair in that it grows. A full-blooded Saiyan's hair will never grow again once it has reached a certain length."

"That's okay, Father," Geta told him. "I'll ask Mother to do it." He headed for the bathroom.

Vegeta felt curiosity get the better of him and for once decided to indulge in it. "Geta?" he called. ~I'm still trying to get used to that horrible nickname. Ugh!~

"Yes Father?" Geta responded, turning back to face his father.

Vegeta grinned. "Indulge me, Son, won't you?"

Geta blushed. "I look like a deranged troll doll," he complained. "Do you promise not to laugh?"

"I won't laugh," Vegeta promised.

A burst of ki shot through Geta's thick hair, drying it and making it stand up proud and tall. Very tall.

Vegeta's eyebrow went up again. "Heh." He grinned. "Probably the only other Saiyan I've seen with hair longer than that was Kakarrot's brother Radditz, but fortunately for him it grew downwards instead of up."

Geta allowed a crooked smile. "I'll be back in a minute," he replied dryly, leaving the room.

***

In a few minutes, the younger man returned, sporting a neatly done chonmage. Vegeta grinned some more. "That's better. Definitely not your typical Saiyan hair, but much better."

Geta shrugged. "Why not acknowledge the human in me too once in a while? Besides, it made wearing that helmet infinitely easier, I assure you." His eyes diverted to the infant on its father's lap and he grinned. "Aww, look at that."

The baby was fast asleep, his little mouth moving as if he were feeding. "I've always thought that was hysterical. I don't know why, I just do," Geta confessed. "They're so cute when they're asleep."

"You keep talking like that and you'll get the princess jokes for sure," Vegeta grumbled. He grabbed the remote control and turned on the television. "Crap," *flip* "utter crap," *flip* "boring crap..." *flip* *flip* *flip*

"I'm going to scream if you don't just pick something and leave it there!" Geta nearly shrieked. "Just when you stay at a channel long enough for me to think you're going to watch it, you change it again!

"You're just like your mother," Vegeta complained. He contemplated the movie on the channel currently on. "I guess this doesn't look too bad." He watched the 'shoot 'em up kill 'em good' movie for a few minutes, frowning. "This is worse than fake," he complained. "Blood doesn't really spray like that."

"I know," came the low voice from across the room.

Vegeta didn't ask, sensing that his son wasn't in the mood to elaborate. Instead, he tossed down the remote and looked down at his infant son, who had begun to squirm a little. The tiny fuzzy tail had wrapped itself around his wrist, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the miniature being he held, the young life he had been partially responsible in creating. Looking up, he saw Geta watching the television casually, his eyelids heavy; the young man was nodding off. Unafraid of being caught now, Vegeta took the opportunity to really truly take a good look at his infant son for the first time.

He ran a hand over the dark fuzzy hair on the baby's head. It was so soft and smooth. He examined the little face, easily seeing his own features much more predominately evident than Bulma's. He took the little tail between his fingers gently, knowing how sensitive it was, not wanting to hurt or wake the infant. A small twinge of envy stirred within him; Vegeta did miss his tail more than he was willing to admit. He paused when the baby wriggled a little but didn't awaken. Vegeta picked up one hand, amazingly small next to his own. He almost gasped in surprise when the tiny fingers curled around one of his own with a good, firm grip.

Almost as if he was aware that he was being watched, the baby opened its eyes. His line of vision eventually met his father's, and they stared at each other for a moment.

Vegeta felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation come over him, but couldn't express what it was. Gently extricating his hand from the baby's smaller one, as well as the fuzzy tail from around his wrist, he lifted his son to rest on his chest and leaned back onto the couch, one hand resting on the boy's back. He would have sworn that he heard the baby sigh.

What was almost a smile flickered across Vegeta's face. <Don't get used to it, brat,> he murmured in the Saiyan tongue. The baby rested its head on his chest contentedly and was promptly lulled back to sleep by his father's heartbeat. Taking one last look at the sleeping child he held, Vegeta followed suit soon after.

***

"Guys, I'm back!" Bulma announced, dropping her encapsulated car on the table next to her purse. She frowned when no one answered and headed for the den. "Guys- oh!" Bulma's fingertips reached up to touch her lips as she smiled with pleasant surprise.

Geta was snoring on the loveseat and Vegeta was asleep on the couch, one arm curled around their infant son, cradling him securely against his chest. The other hand rested on the baby's back. She bit her lip, blinking back happy tears, as waves of affection washed over her. Vegeta was still holding the baby! She tiptoed out of the den and to her purse, pulling out her camera phone. She knew that Vegeta would most likely be furious if he knew she had taken such a 'compromising' picture of him, but the moment seemed too rare and much too precious to pass up.

With a soft click of the button on her phone, she gazed adoringly at the image she'd just captured, one she was certain would also be permanently captured in her mind. Creeping back to her purse, she put the phone back inside. Vegeta hadn't woken up, so why even tell him?

Bulma glanced at her watch. Although she had made excellent time, there were only about twenty minutes to go before Goku was due to arrive. ~I'll just wake Geta for now, and let my other two princes sleep a little longer. I just can't get over how utterly precious that is.~

Walking as quietly as possible over to the loveseat, Bulma laid a hand on one of her son's shoulders. He jumped, as is not uncommon for those being awakened from a good, sound sleep.

"Huh?" Geta pushed himself up and looked at Bulma blearily. "Mother?"

She held up a finger in front of her lips and nodded in the direction of the couch where her mate and son lay sleeping. "Isn't that just adorable?" she whispered.

Geta smiled and nodded, following her from the room. "I take it you found something?" he asked hopefully.

Bulma nodded, pulling some garments out of a shopping bag. As she handed them to Geta, she smiled, surprised. "Hey, you put your hair in a chonmage. Why not let it go Saiyan-style?"

Geta sighed as he examined his mother's purchases. "Well, as I explained to Father, it's grown much too long and since I inherited his big hair," he began, looking up to grin at his mother, "I'd look like a deranged troll doll, as I put it."

Bulma giggled. "Show me!" she demanded excitedly.

"Only on two conditions: a, that you don't laugh at me, and b, that you promise to cut it for me," Geta negotiated as he pulled his hair loose.

"Okay, "Bulma conceded. "I'll do my best, but ever since you said 'deranged troll doll', I can't faithfully promise you on that one." She giggled again. "Just the mental image... oh, my. That is pretty wild," she agreed, her hand over her mouth and eyes twinkling. A small giggle emerged from behind her hand.

Geta hadn't expected his mother not to laugh and simply smiled and shrugged sheepishly. "My hair grows pretty quickly and it hasn't been cut in at least a good six months or so," he told her.

"Why not?" Bulma asked, still fascinated by his gravity-defying coif.

She noted that Geta seemed uncomfortable, as if what he had said had unintentionally lead to a question he did not want to answer. "Circumstances which were unfortunately... out of my control," he mumbled, confirming her suspicion.

"Ah," was all she said, tactfully not pushing the issue. "Well, why don't you go try those clothes on? Hopefully something I bought will fit."

"Sure," he agreed, grateful for the change of subject.

Bulma watched him head for the bathroom and decided to make a trip down the hall herself. She grabbed a light blanket from a closet and returned to the den. She slipped in quietly, knowing that Vegeta was a light sleeper, and carefully covered her sleeping princes with it since the air conditioning was running and the house was cool. She turned to leave but hesitated. Bending down, she placed a gentle kiss on her baby's downy head and another one on Vegeta's cheek before creeping back out.

Vegeta opened one eye and watched her leave. He had seen her obviously pleased reaction to him asleep holding their son and did not know exactly how to react. As he contemplated this, the baby made a small sound and wriggled again in his sleep but did not wake up. He had to admit to himself that the feeling he was currently experiencing toward his son was more than simply protectiveness of what was his. As for Bulma, she confused him even more than the child did. ~I do not have worthless human emotions,~ his mind insisted. ~So what is this- nothing! It's nothing.~ He sighed and closed his eyes again.

***

"So, how do I look?"

Bulma looked up from the newspaper she'd been reading at the kitchen table and smiled. Geta was dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue long sleeved cotton shirt. He shuffled nervously, his hands in his pockets and head down. "You look very handsome," she told him, her smile widening. "I was hoping that shirt would fit."

"Yeah, it seemed like the best one," Geta agreed. He was silent for a moment. "I look like an anorexic sack of bones," he blurted suddenly. "And being over seven feet tall doesn't help me look any less like a scrawny beanpole," he moaned miserably, collapsing into a chair, his head in his hands. "This is a mistake... I should just tell Father what they need to know and send him instead."

Bulma got up from her chair and came over to stand beside him. She laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting without patronizing him. "Geta, you haven't said what happened to you, but evidently it was nothing short of terrible," she soothed softly, rubbing his shoulder. "If you've never worn silk boxers until today, it obviously hasn't been an easy life for you. You came here to tell us what we need to know, as you put it, which means it's something important. They'll be gracious." She frowned. "Well, Yamcha and your father have personal vendettas toward each other, so he may let something smart slip simply because you're Vegeta's son. Besides, he's still upset that I'm with your father instead of him." She sighed. "What a mess that was when he found out. Don't take anything he may say or do personally, all right?"

Geta sighed. "I know. It's just embarrassing that the most I can manage right now is a tiny burst of ki just strong enough to dry my hair. Mother, it was all I could do just to fly here, which is part of the reason I pushed it as quickly as I did. I could tell I was all but done and it would have been completely humiliating to be stranded there."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," Bulma told him. "I honestly don't know what I can say to you right now." She sat down beside him. "I think maybe I could send Vegeta to go collect Goku and the others. That would also give me some time to help you with your hair, if you'd like," she suggested hopefully.

Geta nodded. "I guess so," he agreed. He looked at his watch. "Father should probably leave in a few minutes."

"I'll go wake him up," Bulma offered, getting up from her seat. "Aren't you hungry? I'll make you something if you want."

He shook his head. "Thanks for offering, Mother, but I'll have to pass for now." He looked uncomfortably at her. "It's been, well, a while since I actually ate anything of substance."

Tears filled Bulma's eyes. "Kami, Geta... I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have figured that. I'll get you something to start off slowly with after I send your father off."

Geta watched her leave the room. ~Oh, Mother. If she's going to take that little revelation so badly, how is she going to handle the rest of it?~

***

"Vegeta?"

His eyes opened to the sight of Bulma's blue ones above him. "What is it, Woman?" he asked groggily. He almost sat up when he remembered the infant sleeping on his chest.

"Here, let me take him," Bulma said, scooping their son up carefully into her arms. "You need to leave in a few minutes."

Vegeta sat up and pivoted on the couch so that his feet touched the floor. He yawned, stretching. "All right, fine," he grumbled. The annoying woman had woken him from a peaceful nap, taken away the cuddly baby he'd been resting with and was telling him what he needed to do.

Cuddly? Where on Kami's green Earth had that come from?

Bulma smiled broadly at the sight of his well muscled body stretching. ~Nice. Maybe I'll get me some of that, even though he's been a jerk lately.~ "A couple of things," she began as he got up from the couch. "Since Geta evidently hasn't been well, it pretty much took everything he had during the fight with Frieza. He's tired and would appreciate it if you could just go get Goku and the others and bring them back here instead."

~Took everything he had? But he made it look so effortless!~ "I guess so," Vegeta grumbled, shrugging. "At least that way I can kick their sorry butts out when I'm sick of looking at them."

"Good." The way Bulma smiled at him gave Vegeta the same strange feeling that he couldn't explain earlier. "Also, Geta asked me if I'd cut his hair, but I honestly have no idea how to do it. He said it grows the same way yours is, but your hair is a lot of different lengths." She eyed him assessingly, then reached over to run her free hand through his hair. "Hmmm... I guess if I just did it in sections," she mumbled, running her hand through another time. It was then that she noticed that instead of complaining about being pawed over, he seemed to be enjoying her touch, eyes closed. ~Hmmm, maybe I should have him nap with the baby more often.~ She grinned at the thought.

He opened his eyes when she stopped. "I guess I should go," he mumbled. ~You're weak, going soft at the mere touch of a woman,~ his mind berated him. He averted his eyes away from hers and quickly left the room.

"I guess," she agreed, following him out. "Try to stall a little if you can." She paused. "Geta didn't give you any details, did he?" she asked in a low voice.

Vegeta shook his head. "No, he wouldn't say anything and I didn't push it."

"Me, either," Bulma agreed. They reached the front door. "See you in a little bit, then," she said awkwardly, shifting the baby in her arms. ~Don't think about it, Bulma. It's not the time for that.~

Vegeta just gave a little grunt and nod before flying off toward the desert. ~Damn it, I want that woman.~ He picked up the pace, trying to ignore his thoughts.

***

"All right, I put the baby down," Bulma said as she entered the kitchen. She had a comb, scissors and a sheet, which she loosely draped around her son. "Hopefully we can finish this before your father and the others get here."

Geta nodded wordlessly. He hadn't realized it would happen, but he was feeling a little apprehension at the thought of cutting his hair. ~It hasn't been cut since the last time-~

"I took a look at your father's hair and I think I have a pretty good idea of how I need to do this," Bulma told him, interrupting his thoughts. She let down his hair again and dampened and combed through it.

Taking a section of hair that was all the same length, she raised the scissors to cut it. "Geta? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" he responded curiously.

"Because you were holding your breath," Bulma informed him.

"I was?" Geta sounded surprised. "I didn't know I was doing that. Go ahead, it's okay," he told her, trying to sound nonchalant about it. ~It's time to let go, Geta. She's gone. You have to move on. Yeah, whatever.~ He suddenly became aware of large pieces of midnight blue hair falling onto the sheet covering him. "How's it going?" he asked, attempting to change the subject, at least the one in his mind. "If it gets too short or whatever, my hair grows quickly, so don't worry about it. I just want to get the majority of the length off."

"So far, so good. You don't have any bald spots or anything, if that's any comfort to you," Bulma responded with a laugh. "It is a little difficult, I will say, but as long as I'm not giving you either a flat top or a cone head, I'd say it's not as bad as I'd anticipated." She combed through his hair again. "Basically, I'm trying to find little sections the same length and take an even amount off everywhere."

"Just avoid the deranged troll doll look, please."

***

"Okay, moment of truth," Bulma announced, pulling the sheet off of him. She brushed a few stubborn loose clippings from his shoulder. "Go take a look and tell me what you think." She smiled at her son. ~My very handsome son,~ she noted.

Geta stepped into the half-bath off of the kitchen and looked in the mirror. "Let's see if I can't manage one more burst of ki to dry me out." It was enough.

"I like the way your mustache and beard look with it," Bulma commented. "You look very handsome and distinguished."

"Yeah, I look a little older than a tall twelve-year-old when I have facial hair," Geta joked ruefully. "You did a darn good job for a first time. Thank you," he told her, smiling. "I remember you cutting my hair when I was little, and you'd always have to tell me to quit squirming."

Bulma smiled fondly at him. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more of those moments for little you to enjoy."

~Kami, I hope so.~ He stood still, concentrating on something else. "I can sense Father and the others approaching," he told Bulma. "There's another ki I don't recognize, but it's friendly and quite powerful."

"It must be Goku!" Bulma squealed excitedly. "He made it! You were right on, Geta."

"I figured it would be Goku," Geta agreed. He shuffled his feet, feeling extremely nervous. "Kami, I don't like this. The moment right before the axe falls is always the worst."

"Oh, don't worry, Geta," Bulma objected with a wave of her hand. "There's no reason to be nervous of Goku. He's a really sweet guy, and humble, too." She giggled. "I think that's part of the reason your father is so annoyed by him. Goku just doesn't act Saiyan enough, I guess."

"Mother, I don't doubt that, based on the stories you told me as a child about your and Goku's adventures together," Geta acknowledged. "It's just... well, I acted like a total badass, mocking Frieza and all of that crap. And now I can't do crap. People generally like to test out what's new, and right now that's me. What happens when I can't bite as loudly as I barked earlier today? I'll look like a moron, especially in front of Goku." He paused briefly. "In front of Father," he muttered piteously.

"Geta, first off, no one who was there today is going to try to push your buttons. I sure as heck wouldn't after what I saw you single-handedly do to not only Frieza, but his father too," Bulma remarked. "I wouldn't chance it, honestly.

"Secondly, as I said, Goku is a very sweet and caring individual who'd give you the shirt off his back without a second thought. His reaction would be, 'Oh, man, that's a bummer! Well, I sure hope you feel better soon. Maybe we can spar later,' or something along those lines," she assured him, doing an admirable Goku impersonation. "Don't worry one iota about Goku. He's very honorable and would never tell anyone if he did know you're tired. Okay?" She smiled reassuringly.

Her words did seem to quell his worries somewhat. He nodded. "Okay, Mother. All right." He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders back, head held high. "Maintain a positive mental attitude, confidence is my friend, and never let them see you sweat." He gave his mother a sideways glance.

Bulma started to laugh. "I take it you got a drill sergeant routine a time or ten, hmm?"

Geta couldn't help but grin at her. "Yeah, something like that." They stood in silence for a moment before he surprised her with a gentle bear hug. ~I've been waiting so long to do this. I can't break down now.~

Bulma smiled up at him. "Hey, what did I do to earn that?"

"I- I just wanted to," he answered in a quiet voice. "You died in what would be a few years ago in my lifetime. I... I missed you terribly."

Bulma tensed slightly. "I died? How?"

He let her go and made her look at him. "I can't explain right now, not until you've heard the rest of the story."

"All right," she conceded, nodding. "Geta, I just wanted to say that as far as your father is concerned, he really is a tough guy to please at times, but I can see that he is not disappointed in you, so please don't think that. You beat Frieza, and to him that means strength, no matter how it was that you did it. He's been more open today in the past two hours than practically any other time I've seen. That's because of you, you know."

"Thank you, Mother," Geta responded quietly. "I guess I hadn't realized how much having Father's approval really meant to me until now... can you hear that? Sounds like somebody's awake."

"I'll go get him. And it also sounds like there's a group of somebodies in the yard," Bulma informed him, peeking out one of the kitchen windows.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Time to bite the bullet, I suppose."