Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 12

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

Updated 5/16/09

I just realized today that for some reason, MediaMiner ate sections of my chapter that used special characters for Saiyan and Gerdian speech, and entire sentences of dialogue were missing. This being the case, I'm going to switch to different symbols:

/ = Saiyan language
^ = Gerdian language

I'm sorry for the confusion. Please re-read any sections where there was speech in another language- it should make a lot more sense now. They are as follows:

Anya and Vegeta's argument in the GR, when she reveals her heritage
Vegeta watching TV with the boys, up until Anya comes in (entire sections eaten there)
Anya and Vegeta speaking each other's languages, at Mrs. Briefs' request
Vegeta, in the nursery, when he picks VJ up out of his crib, just before the conversation with Bulma


---

AN: While this chapter will include a little character development for Anya before getting back to the story, I do want to address a concern of one reader that I have been concentrating quite a bit on my own original characters rather than focusing on Bulma and Vegeta. Don't worry; this is and will remain a Bulma and Vegeta story. The purpose of all of the original character development is that (as you are all aware from reading my story summary) Bulma and Vegeta will experience some serious problems in their relationship, and once the most important person in Vegeta's life- Bulma- is gone, Vegeta realizes just how important the rest of his family has become to him. Bulma is lost to him, his pride is gone; they are all he has left to cling to. So while Bulma and Vegeta will continue to be the main characters of this story, Anya, Geta, and little Vegeta will become important secondary characters. They require and deserve a little background development. Besides, what they have to tell will directly affect future events.

Another concern was all of the Vegetas in the story becoming confusing. I realize that, but it was never done to be confusing. It happened because both mothers (Bulma and Anya) respected family tradition enough to carry it on; as a result, both named their sons Vegeta. I already have the nicknames Geta and VJ (as well as Pops, strictly for Anya's amusement). If anyone has an idea for Anya and Geta's little boy, I am open to suggestions! :) Drop me an e-mail with your idea or leave it in a review.

One final concern was what about Trunks? Don't forget that most of what has already taken place here happened before the famous three-year period where Bulma and Vegeta got together in the canon, and Trunks was born roughly a year before the androids arrived. Since it will still be close to three years before they show up, Trunks couldn't be a part of the story for two more years. Obviously, given what I have already stated, the possibility of Trunks existing in this story is dependent upon whether or not Vegeta can repair the damage he causes to his relationship with Bulma.

Whew! That's all I can say about that right now without spilling too too many details. Stay tuned!

I hope this explanation helps anyone who had any concerns over the direction of this story. At the very least, I do thank each and every one of you readers out there who gave this story a try. It's going to be a long and difficult journey for our favorite couple, but I hope that you'll all stick around for the entire ride.

I also want to thank everyone who has left me a review. I appreciate them so much. Please leave a review and give me your thoughts on this story. It only takes a minute and receiving them really does help us writers to continue on. It may sound silly or even stupid to someone who does not write, but it hardly seems worth writing if no one tells me what they think! There is so much more to this story to be told. If you are reading this and intend to continue doing so, it must be worth thirty seconds of your time to let me know that, right?

Last but not least, many thanks to my wonderful husband for his input on this chapter when I hit a rough point. It was his assistance and advice that helped get me over the hump holding me back.

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 Twelve

He let out a grunt of pain as the fist slammed into his face, trying to focus past the resulting blood that trickled down his face. He got back up to his feet, swaying visibly. "W-wait... Could we please talk about this?"

His aggressor chuckled coldly. "There's nothing to discuss, you moronic third-class waste of space," came the snarled response. His foot slammed into the bleeding man's stomach, sending him hurtling into a large boulder. "I am your superior, in every way. You will bow to me, and if you refuse, I will destroy you. How is this a difficult concept to understand, even for an imbecile such as yourself?"

The woman ran over to him, adoration glowing in her large blue eyes. "By the gods, you're incredible," she intoned breathily, stepping close to him and resting herself against his chest submissively. "I couldn't ask for a more perfect man." She fairly quivered with delight in his arms as her eyes rose to meet his, and a sultry smile played indecently upon her lips, leaving no doubt whatsoever in his mind as to what it was she craved from him.

Moaning in pain, the other man staggered to his knees, blood steadily welling from numerous cuts on his face and body. "Please forgive me, my Lord," he pleaded, prostrating his trembling form at his conqueror's feet. "I live only to serve you."

He was answered by another cruel laugh. "So, you have finally learned your place, peon."

"We're going now, Dear."

"Now, get up before I-" He was interrupted by a quick kiss on his cheek. "What?"

Mrs. Briefs giggled at the startled expression on the Saiyan prince's face. "We're going now, Dear," she repeated gaily. "Bulma is already in the lab, and Geta took Anya to play in your gravity thing outside." She waved and hurried after her husband. "Bye now!"

Vegeta shook his head to clear it. "Damn it," he growled, very well aware of the blush gracing his cheeks. He'd been daydreaming about bringing his rival Saiyan to his knees- he'd even been a Super Saiyan in the vision, while Kakarrot had not- and the insane female had snuck up on him and startled him out of his reverie by placing a kiss on his cheek. It seemed that she got a kick out of doing it, for she never hesitated to show affection and giggled at his reaction whenever she succeeded. His reaction remained the same as it always was- a disgusting display of embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink. It was 'cute', or so she claimed, when he blushed. The fool woman would soon learn how very much he was not cute! Yet, he could never bring himself to even chastise her; he merely sat there speechless and embarrassed as she giggled and patted his cheek, his shoulder, his arm, whatever. Perhaps it was because she sometimes fed him afterwards. Perhaps he didn't want to deal with his woman throwing an angry tirade at him for upsetting her mother. Perhaps...

He shook his head. It was becoming more and more evident how truly weak he'd become while living amongst these humans. His woman was obviously very aware of how susceptible he'd become to her large blue eyes, her soft curves, the way her hands and lips felt on his naked body. She invaded his thoughts constantly; even while training he couldn't rid himself of thinking about going into the house and doing all sorts of pleasurable things to her delectable body, listening to her moans and sighs as he did so, reveling in the satisfaction his own body derived. The thoughts distracted him even to the point of causing him injury while training, as they had when he'd destroyed the first GR.

"Damn it," he repeated, getting up from his seat. It appeared that he wouldn't even get breakfast this morning. He'd have to cook for himself.

***

"Wouldn't you have more fun and get more out of your training if you had a partner, hmm?"

Geta read his wife's tone of voice perfectly. "Anya, I don't know. If I hurt you, I'd never forgive myself." He had miraculously gotten her and their son back, safe and sound, and hated to leave her side. What would he do if he harmed her? How would he even begin to deal with that? The very thought of a scratch or bruise on his wife because of his own actions greatly disturbed him.

"Come on," Anya urged him. "I've got an itch for it." She levitated into the air and hovered in front of him at his level, landing a little jab on his shoulder.

"Tell you what. I'll let you practice by trying to block whatever you throw at me. It'll actually be good practice for me, too. But I won't hit back," Geta insisted.

"All right," she agreed. It was better than him simply saying 'no'. She began throwing punches and kicks at him at an increasingly faster pace.

"C'mon Baby," Geta teased. "Aren't you done warming up yet?" He chuckled when her jaw tightened in annoyance.

"Very well, Dear," Anya replied, flicking a ki ball off of her fingertips that sent him falling to the floor.

Geta picked himself up and dusted off his backside. "That's my girl. Nice shot there. I wasn't expecting that." He grinned broadly. The strength training exercise they'd originally come in to program could wait. "How about tossing in a few G's?"

Anya set down on the floor of the GR and shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

***

Vegeta flew in the direction of the GR, intending to retrieve his son. He'd managed to get both brats to go back to sleep, and it was time for Geta to mind them and for him to do some training. He noted that the GR was active because of the red light glowing from the windows, but he hadn't seen any flickers of light that accompanied ki blasts. ~He must be strength training,~ he mused, peering in a window.

What he saw blew his mind. Gaping, he watched as his daughter-in-law delivered a rapid fire of kicks and punches at his son in quick succession, actually managing to land a couple of them. ~How in the hell is she doing this? Why have I never sensed her use her ki before? For that matter, where is it, when Geta's is so strong? It's practically nonexistent!~ His astonished expression turned into one of amusement when she landed the heel of one hand in Geta's face, causing him to yelp in surprise and put his hands over his face as blood spurted from his nose.

"Oh! Honey, I'm sorry!" Anya exclaimed, rushing over to her husband. "Let me see it."

"I'm okay, Anya," he told her, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding. It would only take a minute before his Saiyan genes healed the damage. "I'm actually proud that you managed to break my nose. What a tough cookie I married."

Anya giggled and was about to respond when there was a knock at the door. She and Geta exchanged a look; both of them could sense who was at the other side.

"Have you told Father how well you can use ki yet?" Geta asked cheerfully.

"No, I figured you would have when you told him about me. I forgot all about it!" Anya told him, wide-eyed.

"It's okay. We'll just tell him. He'll think it's pretty cool. No big deal. Computer, end program," Geta commanded, not noticing her skeptical look. The GR powered down, returning the gravity to normal. He looked at Anya one more time before opening the door. ~She looks nervous. I wonder why?~ "Hello, Father."

Vegeta scoffed at his son. "Nice bloody nose you've got there." He peered past Geta and into the room. "Move," he ordered with a sideways jerk of his head, stepping past him.

"Hmph. Won't you come on in?" Geta asked sarcastically.

"Hey, Pops," Anya greeted him.

"Anya." Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "I saw you through the window. That's pretty impressive for a female, especially a human female. How did you manage with the gravity on?"

~I knew he'd find out sooner or later. I just wish it wouldn't have to be this way. And Geta's going to be irritated at me too.~ "Beg your pardon?"

"I said that's pretty impressive for a human female," Vegeta repeated.

"Thanks, but I think there's a little misunderstanding going on here," Anya responded.

Vegeta frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean my errant husband here neglected to formally introduce us, so I assumed he had told you about my background."

"Huh?" Geta looked up from the GR's central computer, where he'd been programming the strength training session.

"It never occurred to me to bring it up myself, since it never seemed to make a difference to you," Anya continued in a calm voice. ~I will not apologize for who I am, nor will I feel embarrassment because of it. After all, his greatest pride is being the Prince of all Saiyans.~

"What are you talking about, Anya? I told Mother and Father all about you." Geta looked hurt by her implication.

Anya walked over to Geta and took his hand in hers in a loving gesture. "I only meant that you missed a teeny-tiny detail that wasn't a big deal to you so you never thought to bring it up." She turned to Vegeta. "I'm saying I'm almost as human as you are, Pops."

"What? You're not human?" Vegeta asked in surprise.

Geta chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. I did kind of neglect to tell you that. But it's like Anya said, it never made a difference to me, so I kind of just forgot. Just like it never made a difference to Anya that we were of different species, right Sweetheart?" He smiled tenderly at his wife. "I just saw this beautiful woman and that was the end of it for me."

"Honey, I'm sorry... I never wanted to hurt you," Anya whispered, "which is why I never gave you all of the details about who I am." She let go of her confused husband's hand after giving it a quick squeeze. Returning her attention to Vegeta, she bowed in a respectful, formal manner, her right fist over her heart, but her left hand covered it.

Saiyans didn't do that. The only people Vegeta knew of that did were...

Something clicked in Vegeta's mind. His eyes widened. "You're..." Somehow he couldn't say it. He couldn't make the words come out of his mouth. It couldn't be true.

"I am Queen Anyakita of Gerdia," she said calmly, rising back upright and offering him her hand, as was custom.

Her words stung like a slap to the face as his suspicions were confirmed. "G-Gerdia? You're Gerdian?" Vegeta shouted angrily.

"100%, royal red-blooded, yes. Is that a problem?" Anya asked casually.

"Gods, is that a problem, she asks," Vegeta snapped. "What the hell, Woman? Did you think that I would never find out? You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Me? I don't think I'm the only one who has a lot of explaining to do," Anya retorted. If Vegeta was going to be a snob, she had no problem dishing the attitude right back his way. "First off, it was your people who started the whole problem, not mine. And if you insist upon being technical, you heard my title. I could be commanding you to-"

"Hey! Hold it right there!" Geta bellowed, shutting both of them up. "You never told me anything about Gerdians," he accused Anya. "Why all of the secrecy? What's so important that I'm not worth telling? And you!" Geta rounded on his father. "What's the problem here? You were all good and nice until ten seconds ago. So she's another species. So what? Why'd you have to go all venom on her all of a sudden?" Geta scowled darkly and crossed his arms. "How would you have liked it if Anya didn't like you because you were Saiyan, huh?"

"Geta..." Anya began nervously. Her eyes flicked over to Vegeta, silently begging him not to make a touchy situation worse.

"Well, Boy, how do you know she doesn't dislike me because I'm a Saiyan?" Vegeta countered. "I do recall you saying that when you first met, your lovely wife here wouldn't even give you the time of day."

/Don't do this! Not like this! He doesn't know!/ Anya wailed. /Please... I never wanted to hurt him./

"Anya?" Geta addressed her incredulously. "Was that... how do you know Saiyan? Even I don't know how to speak it." He shook his head. "Will one of you please tell me why you wouldn't like..."

It hit him like a ton of bricks- it hadn't been who he personally was that Anya had been trying to avoid. It was what he was. To anyone with a trained eye, especially if they happened to catch a glimpse of a tail, it was easy to pick out a Saiyan. He was a Saiyan. Anya had been avoiding him at first. She hadn't liked him. She hadn't liked Saiyans. Why not? There was no way she could ever have even met a Saiyan. What reason could she possibly have for...

Oh, no. No. It couldn't be!

But, what else could it be?

Geta went white and covered his mouth with his hands. He shook his head. "Oh, no no no..." His eyes closed. "Father, please say that what I'm thinking isn't true. Tell me it's not so!" He looked at his father with pleading eyes.

"Son..." Vegeta sighed. "I wasn't even born yet," he murmured. "Gerdia is rich in natural resources. Frieza gave the order and my father sent the ships."

"Ohhh, Kami... I think I'm going to be sick," Geta moaned, sinking to his knees onto the floor. "Anya, why didn't you tell me? I love you so much... It's no wonder... no wonder you didn't want anything to do with me..." He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ashamed by his reaction to her secret, Anya began to cry and knelt down next to him. "Geta, all my life I was taught one thing and only one thing about Saiyans, that they were heartless, cold blooded animals. When I met you, I realized that the prejudice wasn't true, at least as far as you were concerned. It couldn't be. You were the sweetest, most loving man I had ever met. I couldn't help but fall so much in love with you. Since we were both the last of our own people, I didn't see the point in telling you something that would only hurt you."

Geta felt his heart wrench in his chest at the sight of tears trickling down her cheeks, his tongue failing him as he found himself at a loss for words. His wife had only wanted him to be happy. She had concealed the pain of her people in a shroud of silence, choosing to have him remain ignorant rather than to feel guilt over something from the past, something which was not his fault and could not be changed, not by him or anyone else. What could he say? 'Thank you, Dear, for wanting to keep me happy by hiding a horrible secret between our peoples. I'm glad you could see past that'? His eyes darted over to his father, who looked similarly torn, partway between angry and uncomfortable. Why would his father be angry, if it was the Saiyans who tried to purge Gerdia? Whatever had happened during that attack must have been as equally disastrous to the Saiyans as it had been to the Gerdians, if they had managed to survive and even come out victorious. But now was not the time to contemplate that. He rubbed Anya's back in small circles. Maybe that was best for the moment. He just didn't know what else he could say or do that would help.

The room was silent except for Anya's weeping. She spoke up after a moment. "I never wanted to hurt you either." Anya stopped and looked over at Vegeta. ~Would he be angry if I called him Pops? I never realized how much I enjoyed doing it until now.~ "I wanted to say something to you, since you didn't seem to know," Anya continued in a quiet voice. "But we were getting along so well that I couldn't bear the thought of ruining it. It didn't seem the type of thing that a Saiyan would just brush off." She dropped her eyes to look at the floor. "Most especially the prince himself." Her last statement could barely be heard, but he did not miss it. "I... I treasure your friendship, Vegeta. I see you as the father I always wished I had. One who saw the real me and cared for me because of who I really was, not one who despised me for not being what he wanted."

Geta put his arms around her in an attempt to soothe her, but he could see that his wife's heart was breaking. ~She really does love Father as if he was her biological father.~ :Oh, Anya... he doesn't hate you, Darling. He's just-:

His sentiments were interrupted when he felt Anya being extricated from his arms as Vegeta lifted Anya to her feet.

"Anya, I... I'm..." Vegeta shook his head in frustration; his mouth wouldn't let him verbalize what he knew she needed to hear, so instead he did the next most difficult thing, something that just might mean the world to her as well. He gently pulled her to him and rested her head against his shoulder, putting his arms loosely around her. He patted her back awkwardly. "All right, let's stop this pointless crying," he said gruffly. "I don't despise you, Anya. You know that. I don't think I could if I tried."

She began crying in earnest now, holding onto him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Yeah, yeah." He patted her back again and sighed. He would do this one ridiculous thing for her and only her, since it seemed to mean so much to her. "By the way, you mispronounced my name earlier."

Anya lifted her head from Vegeta's shoulder and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "What do you mean- oh!" Anya's chin trembled when she realized the meaning of his statement; she'd called him by his name instead of her typical playful 'Pops'.

~Such a foolish thing really does mean that much to her.~ "Hn. I'm reserving the privilege only for you, Girl," he growled, once again embarrassed by a silly blonde female.

She rested her head back against his shoulder, tears which were not of unhappiness running down her cheeks. "I love you, Pops. You're my father in every way that really matters."

A little surprised by her bold statement, especially with her husband standing not ten feet away, Vegeta let out a little snort. "I suppose you're okay."

A muffled little giggle came from his shoulder. She knew he was being too macho to say he'd begun to grow fond of her, too, in return.

"Feeling better now?" Vegeta hated seeing her cry almost as much as he hated to see Bulma cry.

Anya stood up straight and nodded, smiling at him.

"Good. No more blubbering, then," he told her in a stern voice. "There are two little brats in the house who do more than their share of..." He stopped, surprised when she leaned forward and gave him another hug and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Pops. I suppose you're not so bad yourself," she teased softly. "I'm glad you know now. I just wish I could have told you sooner and under better circumstances, that's all."

"There's no use in beating yourself up over things you cannot change," Vegeta told her. "Believe me, I've been doing that since I was five."

Anya looked at him with sad eyes. There was only one thing he could be talking about. "I guess we'll have to share stories about that particular subject sometime," she commented with a sigh.

"Perhaps," he mumbled. "I suppose I am curious about how you claimed your title," he admitted. "You're so easy going that I never would have taken you for royalty."

"Well, technically it's a moot point now since my father currently sits on the Gerdian throne and I haven't even been born yet." Anya shrugged. "Believe it or not, I was Queen for almost five years."

"Five years? You must have been, what? Ten?" Vegeta looked at her with astonishment.

"Not quite eleven." Anya sighed. "It was terrible because not only was I inexperienced but I had a lot of so-called 'suitors'," she continued, making the 'quote' gesture with her fingers, "looking to usurp the throne." She paused, deep in thought, and shook her head sadly. "I wonder... no, he'd probably think I was insane."

"Your father?" Geta, who had been quietly standing back and observing, asked.

She nodded and forced a smile. "A story for another day." She tilted her head, contemplating something. "Pops, before it completely fades away, would it bother you if I tried out your ki?"

"When did you take any of mine?" Vegeta asked. "I thought you were using his." He jerked a thumb Geta's way.

"She was, but ditched it when you decided to make some time with her," Geta teased his father. "She did give you that little peck on the cheek, remember?"

Vegeta was unfazed by his son's teasing. "Yes, and right in front of you, too. See? I told you that no woman could ever resist the Prince of Saiyans himself." He raised his head haughtily.

Anya giggled when Geta rolled his blue eyes heavenward dramatically, perfectly reminiscent of his mother. "Well? Would it bother you, Pops?"

"I suppose not," Vegeta conceded. "Which reminds me, I came out here to kick you two out so I can use the room for a while. I've been getting puked on by whiny babies all morning. It's your turn, Son."

"Hmph. Well, at least they won't be rude to me. They care about my feelings, unlike someone else I know," Geta grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling, perfectly reminiscent of his father this time.

"Spoken like a true Saiyan," Vegeta retorted, taking a turn to roll his eyes. "Let me guess. You need a hug and kiss, too."

Geta gave him a look that conveyed both startled surprise and horror. "I don't want you giving me a kiss!" he objected.

"What, are you nuts? I wasn't going to kiss you," Vegeta informed him. "I was going to suggest that your woman..." He stopped, smirking, when his son promptly scooped Anya up and flew for the house, not even waiting to hear the rest of what was about to be said. "Guess I'll keep an eye on the brats, then."

***

Vegeta sat in front of the television, a child in the crook of either arm, the remote in his left hand, and a beer in his right. /Would you believe it, Boy? Over 600 channels from all around the world, and absolutely nothing of interest on. Well, except for stuff that your mother would wring my neck if she knew I was watching with either of you in the room./ He looked down at his son, who was staring up at him intently with wide blue eyes. /What?/

The baby continued to stare at his father, then gave him a huge, toothless smile that made Vegeta laugh despite himself. His grandson was snoozing in his other arm, so he set down the beer and remote then carefully slipped the older boy onto the couch next to him. He lifted his son up to eye level to take a better look at him.

VJ squirmed happily in his father's grasp, babbling the sort of nonsense that all babies do. /Is that so?/ Vegeta inquired, amused. ~I never thought that this would be something I'd actually enjoy. Enjoy, I must be crazy.~ He chuckled when VJ opened his mouth in a huge yawn, his tiny fists rubbing at his eyes. /Ah. Tired, are we, little one?/ He settled the infant against his chest, that feeling he denied having welling up inside of him when the child rested its head on his shoulder and let out a contented sigh, one little hand fisting the fabric of Vegeta's shirt in a tight grip.

Vegeta turned his head slightly to look at his son. The boy's eyelids were drooping as he drifted toward sleep. Touched by the baby's unconditional trust and love, Vegeta did something he had never have even fathomed doing before. After quickly scanning the area and finding that no one was nearby, he placed a gentle kiss on his son's little forehead, curling his arm more securely around the pajama clad body. He ran his hand down the boy's back. He was so small, so fragile.

/You won't be small for long, will you, Child?/ Vegeta murmured, carefully readjusting his hold on his sleeping son so that he rested in the crook of his arm. /You'll grow up into a tall, proud warrior. Hmph. Thank the gods for that./ He shook his head, unwilling to even let himself think about what things would have been like if Frieza hadn't gotten his hooks into him when he was just a boy. He, too, would no doubt have been a large man if he hadn't suffered the abuses Frieza had inflicted upon him.

Sighing, Vegeta pushed the unwelcome thoughts from his mind. He had more important things to think about. /It will be better for you, little one,/ he told his son softly, picking up one of VJ's hands. The tiny fingers closed tightly around one of his much larger fingers, making the unnamed feeling inside of him swell even stronger. /I swear it./

He heard a noise in the hallway and straightened up. He would appear weak if anyone was to see him paying any sort of affectionate attention to his son, or even his mate for that matter. "Anya," he greeted his daughter-in-law as she entered the room.

"Hey, Pops. I figured you had the boys when neither of them was in their crib," she commented, smiling when she saw both children curled up asleep with him.

"Yeah, yeah. Did you have a nice nap?" Vegeta smirked when she turned a lovely shade of pink.

"Yes, thanks," Anya responded with a bashful little smile. "Did you want me to take one of them?"

Vegeta nodded. "Take..." He sighed. "Whatever we are calling your son and I will bring Vegeta."

Anya giggled. "Still refusing to call him VJ, huh?"

Vegeta scowled. "My son's name is Vegeta, not VJ. 'Geta' is a bad enough nickname," he complained.

Anya smiled again, reassuringly this time. "It's not that bad," she told him in a soothing tone. "We could be calling him Veggie." She giggled at the irritated look of warning she received at that suggestion.

"I don't think so," Vegeta responded crankily. "I hate that name."

"Don't worry, Pops. Geta's my Geta, and not anything else." Anya scooped up her son. "Let's put you to bed, little man," she murmured, placing a kiss on the boy's cheek.

"No sleepies, Mama," he mumbled before drifting back into sleep.

"Obviously not," Anya whispered with a wink to her father-in-law. They headed for the nursery and placed both children into their respective beds. Anya shut the door behind them once they were back into the hallway and let out a long sigh. "My baby's growing up so fast."

Vegeta shrugged; what did he say to that? "I have been told that infants tend to do that," he responded matter-of-factly.

A slow smile spread over Anya's face. She wasn't sure if he was joking or serious. A giggle escaped. "You're funny, Pops." She reached out to grasp his hands in hers.

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. This girl truly was a bold one. "What are you doing?"

"Snitching a little of your ki," she responded. "I never did get to try it out, and Geta said he'd take me out to the desert if you gave me some more."

"Oh." There went Vegeta's plans to train, unless he could find Bulma to mind the children; the old people still had not returned home.

"You know," Anya began casually, "you might want to spend some time with Bulma today. She seemed a little, oh, I don't know. Lonely, maybe?"

"Try cranky, maybe," Vegeta retorted. "She is undergoing her menses and I have no desire to be the recipient of her irritation." He'd had enough of that the first time he'd had to deal with it shortly after he'd gotten back from space. After that, he'd vowed to avoid her during subsequent occurrences in order to prevent it.

A little smile flickered at Anya's lips. "All the more reason you could spend a little quality time with her. She could use some understanding and attention," she hinted. "Maybe even a little pampering. Otherwise she's just going to sit there while she's not at work feeling neglected and..." She tapped the left side of her head near the temple repetitively and stared off into space.

It suddenly dawned on Vegeta what his daughter-in-law was referring to. "The scouter?"

Anya nodded. "I don't know what she's looking at, but she's been spending hours on it."

"Hn." Vegeta contemplated Anya's words. Maybe he could get her to tell him what she was looking at, if it was that interesting. "We'll see. But if she starts bitching at me, I'm out of here."

Anya giggled, finding it cute when he unconsciously used Earth slang. "Patience is a virtue, you know."

"Hmph. Go blow up some rocks or something," he grumbled.

Anya kissed his cheek. "See you later, Pops!"

Vegeta watched her leave before feeling out for Bulma's ki. Sure enough, she was in her lab. After peeking in on the two sleeping children, he headed over to the lab.

***

"Hey!" Bulma removed the scouter and placed it on her work bench as Vegeta strolled into the lab. She'd made quite a bit of progress on her latest project and didn't need him seeing what she was looking at, so she decided to just act casually. "What brings you here?"

~So Anya was correct. She has been using the scouter.~ "Anya insists that you are in need of some so-called quality time," he grumbled. "What do you want?"

Bulma blinked at him in surprise. He could be training, but he'd decided to spend some time with her! The very thought made her break out into a huge smile. "Really?" she nearly squealed.

Vegeta found himself taking a turn at being surprised. ~Have I truly been neglecting- No!~ "My training is of the utmost importance, Woman. Either decide what you wish to do or I will go out to the GR," he retorted snobbishly, crossing his arms over his chest. She'd just have to get over it.

Bulma leapt up from her chair. "Oh, nononono... I can think of plenty of things I'd like to do." She gave him a broad smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Will you watch a movie with me?"

"Watch a movie, hmph."

Bulma kissed him on the cheek. "Please?" she coaxed.

Vegeta was forced to admit that she could have asked him to accompany her shopping, which would have been an infinitely worse fate. "I suppose so," he conceded, "as long as it is not overly feminine and sappy."

Bulma giggled and kissed him again, on the lips this time. "No chick flicks, I promise." She let him go and took his hand as they made their way toward the den.

Vegeta allowed the contact and the chance that someone might happen to see his foolish mate holding his hand and towing him along as though he was a mere brat in favor of keeping her mouth silent. She was hormonal and irritable enough as it was; if he was to spend some 'quality time' with her he didn't need her moping about and shrieking at him.

She plopped down onto the couch and patted the seat beside her. "This is so sweet of you, Honey. Thanks for offering." She snatched up the remote and turned the television on.

Vegeta's first inclination was to deny her entire statement. Not only was he not sweet and his name not 'Honey', but it had not been his idea; Anya had guilted him into this entire ridiculous situation. Watching a movie, bah! Not his idea of quality time. There was no doubt as to his definition of the phrase. He wasn't training, nor was she 'up to' the other meaning, so this didn't qualify. "Yeah, yeah." Unable to deny the soft blue eyes silently pleading with him he sat down next to her, suppressing a sigh as she snuggled up against him, worming her way under his arm so he would have to either move it or place it around her.

"Oh! I've always wanted to see this live," Bulma breathed. "I love opera."

Vegeta winced; the young lady on the television was singing in a loud, high pitched voice. Her screeching was far from music to his ears; how could anyone enjoy this? "It's terrible. She sounds like an animal being abused." The woman hit an especially high note, making him wince again. He made a mental note to never attend the opera with the woman, no matter how much she begged. The television had an excellent surround sound system, so good in fact that the hair on the back of his neck was standing up. This would be nothing short of torture live.

Bulma let out a disgruntled noise as she smacked him. "She does not. It takes a lot of talent and years of training to have a voice like hers." She sighed. "I couldn't hold a tune to save my life."

"That may be so, but I can think of one sure way you could save your life right now," Vegeta hinted.

Bulma huffed in annoyance. "Fine. If you don't want to watch this that badly you only had to say so." They sat in silence for a moment while she perused the programming guide. "Ooh, here's one we should watch. I've always liked this movie." She shifted slightly to look up at him. "I hope you like it. It's kind of different." She graced him with another smile before curling back up against him.

They had missed the beginning of the movie, so Bulma gave him a brief synopsis of what they hadn't seen. "So, now he goes around fighting crime as redemption for his sins. He can cloud people's minds so they don't see him. That's why he's called 'the Shadow'. Oh, and he met her at a fancy night club."

Vegeta contemplated this. "That doesn't sound all that exciting," he complained. Truth be told, he could already tell that if he continued to watch this film, he'd be downright bored.

Bulma poked a finger into his ribs, making him squirm away from her probing digit. "Grumpy. Just give it a chance, and if you hate it we'll watch something else," she promised.

"Hmph. I'm only grumpy because I haven't gotten laid lately," Vegeta's complaining continued.

Bulma poked him again, harder this time. "You think I'm enjoying this?" she retorted. "I assure you, being on my period is not my idea of a good time." She snuggled even closer. "I'm cold." The weather had taken a shift from hot to brisk in a relatively short time.

"Well, if you're cold get a blanket," Vegeta responded logically, seeing right through her flimsy excuse, "or wear something with a little more coverage." He indicated his jeans and t-shirt in comparison to her shorts and tank top.

"But you're so warm..."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, although he was not irritated by her. He curled his arm around her, knowing that was what she actually wanted. "Anything else you require, Princess?"

"Well, now that you mention it, would you mind rubbing my back for me?"

"I don't believe this."

"What? I have cramps, and it feels good to have my back rubbed," Bulma whined, expertly extending her lower lip into a pout.

To her surprise, he slid her onto the floor to sit between his feet and began to rub. "Mmmm... that's so nice, Veg..."

"This had better qualify as pampering," Vegeta told her, poking her shoulder as she had his side.

"Mmm-hmm." Dear, sweet Anya...

Vegeta snorted. "At least it keeps that enormous mouth of yours shut."

Bulma leaned backward to scowl at him playfully. "Just watch the movie, okay?"

There was a definite hint of amusement in his eyes. "Hmph."

"Kiss?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her but leaned over to deliver the requested kiss. "Watch your video, Woman."

Satisfied, Bulma resumed watching the movie. "That's her father," Bulma remarked, pointing toward the characters on the screen. "He's a scientist."

Vegeta let out a noise halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "So the blonde who loves to wear flashy evening wear and frequent expensive clubs has a scientist father, hmm? If they had made his hair purple and hers blue... "

She scowled at him. "Vegeta, that's just mean."

"No, look at the glasses. And let me guess, he smokes too." Vegeta smirked at her lack of response. "Well?"

Bulma got back up on the couch. It was embarrassing that he was right. "You were mean, so you have to rub my feet now," she informed him, sticking them on his lap.

Vegeta shoved her feet away. "What am I, a servant? You never rub my feet, Woman," he reminded her. "Why should I rub yours?"

Bulma resumed pouting and curled back up against him. She ignored the chuckling Saiyan as she browsed the program guide again. "There's nothing on."

"If you start flipping through channels, I'm leaving," Vegeta grumbled. While Vegeta himself had been guilty of the offense, now that he knew what type of viewing material each channel aired he personally only checked the ones he had deemed were worth watching. The rest were just a waste of time, especially the one that aired a program from Eastern Country where several females sat at a table, jabbering nonsense about everything and nothing like a flock of squabbling turkeys.

"Okay, all right," Bulma grumbled right back. She turned off the television and got up, grabbing a large book from a shelf on the corner. "Want to look at pictures with me?" she asked, sitting back down beside him and opening the book.

"Not really," he responded in a bored tone.

Her sigh and pleading blue eyes made him feel something he rarely felt and hated to feel- guilt. "Vegeta, all I want is to spend a little time with you. I don't really care what we do." She slid the album onto the coffee table.

He opened his mouth to reply and closed it again, not really knowing what to say to that. "Woman..." He sighed.

She maneuvered herself onto his lap and rested her head upon his shoulder. "Will you tell me about planet Vegeta?" Her fingers absently traced little patterns along his chest.

"It blew up." Vegeta found himself distracted by her warm body and the pleasant fragrance of the soaps she used while washing herself.

"Come on, Vegeta." She looked up at him. "You're my mate, and I love you. I want to know more about you and your culture. What sort of things will you teach our son? He should know about his father's planet and people."

Vegeta hesitated. It was a sore subject for him. "I was taken by Frieza when I was five," he reminded her. "What is there to tell?"

"Tell me about your mother," Bulma suggested softly. "Was she pretty?"

Vegeta nodded, a little grunt in the affirmative accompanying the nod. "She was very beautiful."

Although it seemed as though Bulma would have to spoon-feed him the specific question for every detail, at least he was talking to her. "What did she look like?"

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. He remembered every detail, the way she smelled, the sound of her voice, the color of her eyes, the very infrequent smiles she let escape. "She had long, thick black hair. It was smooth and wavy, and flowed down her back, unlike how most Saiyans' hair grew. She had gray eyes. Not many Saiyans had eyes that were not black, but she did. She did not smile often, but when she did, her eyes would shine like the stars."

Bulma remained perfectly still and quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"She smelled good. I still remember that. It wasn't a flowery smell or a cloyingly sweet smell similar to how many females here smell. She smelled clean, fresh, yet feminine without being overly so."

Bulma prompted him further when it didn't seem that he would readily continue. "Do you look more like your mother or your father?"

"My father had brown hair and dark eyes. I look more like he did, except with my mother's hair color."

"Oh. Kind of like how VJ got my blue hair and eye color, huh?"

Vegeta grunted again. "I suppose so." He frowned. "It is not as though it matters any longer."

Bulma's fingers curled around one of his hands. "Sure it matters," she told him softly, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "They're your parents."

"My father gave me to that bastard Frieza to save his own skin," Vegeta retorted hotly. "He could not even save his own mate from the disgusting freak's clutches."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Frieza took her away too?"

"No," Vegeta contradicted her in a low, bordering on angry voice. "My father disobeyed a direct order from Frieza. Frieza knew that my father was fond of my mother, so he killed her as punishment. He made certain that both my father and I were present when he did it."

Bulma's eyes teared up. "Oh... How terrible," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion.

"He was weak," Vegeta spat back, hardly hearing what his mate was saying. "He let his affections for my mother make him weak, and her death was what did him in, only making him weaker and easier to control."

So much made sense now. "Vegeta, Frieza is dead," Bulma murmured softly. "You'll never have to worry about him hurting you again." She reached up to stroke his hair as she did when he had a nightmare when she felt a growl of anger in his chest. "It's all right-"

"Be silent, Woman!" Vegeta snarled angrily, pulling away from her. "You know nothing of pain, of hurt, or of loss!"

Bulma couldn't help but feel hurt by his statement, but understood why he had said it. "You're right," she acknowledged. "I couldn't possibly understand what you and your people went through. But I love you more than anything in the world, and I'll always be here for you." She craned her neck to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

To her surprise, Vegeta's arms suddenly shot around her and he returned the kiss. He held her close, his anger and frustration showing as he kissed her fiercely. He broke the kiss abruptly and lay back on the couch with her.

Bulma lay with him in silence for a moment. "Vegeta?" she ventured.

"Enough, Bulma," he responded sternly, although not unkindly. "I do not wish to discuss the subject further."

She kissed his chest and curled up closer to him. She couldn't take his pain away and she couldn't make what happened better for him, but she would do whatever she could to help him see how very loved he was.

***

"Geta, would you mind waking up Bulma and Vegeta for me, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked cheerfully as she poured gravy into a gravy boat. "They fell asleep on the couch in the den, the poor dears. They're so cute." She smiled at the memory of finding them there, curled up together. She thought it was adorable that, even in sleep, Vegeta still wore his scowl, although it was greatly lessened.

"Sure, Gram. Not a problem," Geta responded as he finished securing his son into a high chair. "Stay put Vegeta, while I go get Grandma and Grandpa, okay?"

The boy nodded solemnly. "Okay, Da."

He chuckled and headed for the den. Peering inside, he could see his father's sock-covered foot and his mother's dainty toes- the nails of which were painted a bright fuschia- past the arm of the couch. A low snore issued from the room and he suppressed a second chuckle.

Bulma shifted and her eyes fluttered open as Geta approached the couch. She smiled at him, a tiny tinge of pink flitting across her cheeks at the expression on his face. "Hey."

"Hey," Geta responded softly. "Dinner's ready."

"Thanks." Bulma tried to sit up, but her mate's iron grasp held her fast. "Give me a minute to wake your father up and we'll be right in."

"All right, I'll try to stall for a little bit." Geta nodded to her and left the den.

Bulma wriggled in Vegeta's arms. "Vegeta..."

His only response was a sleepy grunt.

"Vegeta, wake up," Bulma tried again.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. "What is it, Woman?" he grumbled, unwilling to admit that he had been enjoying the closeness of her soft, warm body.

"Dinner is ready," she told him. "Let's go eat." She stood up when his arms loosened around her and stretched luxuriously. "We must've really been out of it to sleep so long like that."

"You were cranky and needed a nap," Vegeta informed her.

Bulma snorted. It wasn't her who'd been grumpy. "Okay, Honey. Let's go eat," she repeated.

Anya giggled as they entered the kitchen. Bulma had sleep lines on her face and Vegeta's hair was matted against one side of his head. "Hey Pops, Bulma. Have a nice nap?" she asked, echoing his earlier question.

Vegeta smirked at her as they sat down at the table. "Perhaps not quite as exciting as yours, Woman," he responded smoothly, his smirk widening when her cheeks flushed pink.

"Oh, did something exciting happen today, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked airily as she set the last of dinner on the table and took her seat.

Anya dropped her father-in-law's gaze and turned to her husband, who nodded encouragingly. "Sort of..."

"What is it?" Dr. Briefs queried. He sat with his grandson in the crook of one arm, a fork in the opposite hand, and a bottle carefully propped up in order to feed the child, something that he'd obviously done on numerous occasions in the past.

"I'm not human," Anya ventured, carefully waiting for the surprised reactions she knew she'd receive before continuing on.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs let out little exclamations of surprise, but Bulma dropped the spoon she'd been using to serve herself some potatoes. "What? Seriously? Then what species are you? Where are you from? How did you and Geta even meet?"

"Whoa, time-out," Geta interjected. It was just like how she'd reacted when she'd found out about Anya in the first place. "She'll get to all of that."

Bulma smiled a little bashfully. "Okay, all right," she relented.

"I am Gerdian," Anya reported. "I'm from a planet called Gerdia, which is about a six-month journey from here."

"Oh, my!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "How exciting!" This made two members of her family from outer space!

Anya couldn't contain her smile at the older woman's exuberance. "There's more," she continued. "I am actually royalty too, like Pops is. I was queen in my time. My father is king of Gerdia right now."

"Really now?" Dr. Briefs asked thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have guessed. You're very young, and you seem so laid back."

Anya nodded. "Pops said the same thing. I guess I'm not quite as cranky as he is," she teased, winking at her father-in-law playfully.

"Wait- you knew about this, Vegeta? Why keep it a secret?" Bulma demanded.

"Hold on, Bulma. Pops only found out today," Anya defended her father-in-law. "It's a long story." Her demeanor changed, and she sighed deeply.

"Mama boo-hoo?"

Anya looked over to her son with fondness. Not much got past her perceptive little boy. "Mama's okay, Sweetheart. Let's eat this tasty dinner Gram cooked, all right?" She took a bite of her food. "The roast is delicious, Bunny."

"Thank you, Dear." The fact that Anya had suddenly clammed up and that little Vegeta had so quickly picked up on it bothered her.

***

"Are they asleep, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked as her daughter joined them in the den.

Bulma nodded and sat down on the loveseat next to Vegeta. "Yes, out like lights."

The room was quiet for a moment. "Well, I guess I'll start with now," Anya spoke up. "As I mentioned, I am from a planet called Gerdia. My father is currently king, and I haven't even been born yet." She paused. "That's a weird thought. Anyway, my future on Gerdia will not be a happy one. My mother..." She let out a long sigh.

"It's okay, Anya," Geta told her, taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze of encouragement. "Take your time."

She gave him a weak little smile and returned the squeeze. "My mother died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. My father wasn't a kind man while I was growing up. From what I could ascertain from other people, he loved my mother very much, and he blamed me for her death. Add that to the fact that he got a daughter instead of a son, it's pretty safe to say that he didn't like me much."

Bulma got up and sat down next to Anya on the couch. "Oh, Anya... I'm sure that's not true," she soothed, putting an arm around the distraught young woman's shoulders and handing her a tissue.

Anya sniffled and took the tissue. "How can I feel otherwise, Bulma? He never spent any time with me, and he was short with me when he had to be around me."

A disgusted grunt came from the loveseat. "It's a royalty thing, Girl. My father never had time for a brat either. Hence, I had a more familiar relationship with my bodyguard than I did my own father."

They all looked at Vegeta in surprise. He rarely offered such personal information. "I'm sorry you went through that too, Pops," Anya murmured.

Vegeta shrugged it off, but anyone who knew him well would have been able to tell that it did in fact bother him. "From what I know of King Herrón, like any good monarch he acts how he must in order to get the job done, but he is also a reasonable man."

"Oh, have you met him, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked with interest. "Maybe you should try to talk to him for Anya."

Vegeta just kept his eyes from widening. ~What, and sign my own death warrant?~ "No, I have never met him, only heard of him. I do not imagine that he would be very receptive to speaking with me. Anya will get to that," he added before his inquisitive mate could interject.

"Pops, never mind," Anya interrupted softly. "If you did manage to speak with him he'd only think you were crazy. Heck, I'd think you were crazy if I wasn't the one telling the story." She gave him a sad smile. "I always wished I could have known my mother, but I guess it just isn't meant to be."

"I'm sorry, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told her sorrowfully, a tissue of her own in her hand. "What a sad story."

"It only gets worse, I'm afraid," Anya admitted. "When I was ten, there was a rebellion on Gerdia, and someone tried to usurp my father's throne. My father was killed, but the usurper wasn't successful in gaining the throne. Instead, I was crowned queen just before my eleventh birthday." She wadded up her tissue into a little ball as she spoke. "Just before I turned sixteen, my counselors decided to send me away so that no one could get their son on the throne through me. By Gerdian tradition, female royalty reaches marriageable age at sixteen, so the child would have been a legal heir to the throne. I... I lost everything in the future. Everyone. The rebels literally destroyed the planet when full-blown war broke out upon my departure." Her tears began anew. "My counselors did research of different planets, and I think I was sent here because they got wind of Earth taking a downward spiral, and figured that being the case, no one would think to look for me here. Besides, it's quite far away, so I couldn't easily be forced to return in a timely manner." She drew in a deep breath. "If what Geta told you can change the future of this planet, surely what I know can change Gerdia's. I have ten years to figure out what to do, right?" She gave her listeners a shaky little smile. "Even though he wasn't the best parent to me emotionally, Father always made sure that I was safe. He was a good father in that respect, and I loved him despite our troubles. So I'll find a way to save him, my people and my planet, even if I can't save my mother."

"I wish you the best, Anya," Vegeta spoke up again. "It wasn't easy losing everything, I know." Again, his openness and candor surprised them all. "You do understand, if I were anyone else, legally I might be able to use my title to gain access to your father to help you. I wish I could."

Anya smiled at his words. "I know you would, Pops."

"Hold on, what do you mean if you were anyone else?" Bulma asked, her brow wrinkled with confusion. "Doesn't being royalty give you some sort of clout the rest of us don't have?"

Vegeta sighed in a 'here we go!' fashion. "Usually, yes. But if I were to ask for an audience with King Herrón, I doubt it would go well, since Frieza ordered a purge of Gerdia shortly before I was born, which my father personally arranged. Let's just say that fortunately for the Gerdian people it was it not a successful purge, and it left quite a bad taste in their mouths for Frieza and especially for Saiyans."

Bulma winced. "A lot of stuff makes sense now, I have to say."

Geta nodded. "I didn't know until today myself, because Anya chose not to disclose it to me. I can't say I'm happy about not knowing, but I do understand." He squeezed his wife's hand again.

"I'm sorry, Honey," Anya murmured. "I just didn't want to hurt you, that's all."

He nodded. "I know." A little chuckle escaped. "Our relationship is pretty ironic, isn't it?"

Anya giggled when he pulled her close and kissed her cheek. He always knew how to make her feel good. "A one in a billion chance," she agreed.

"Pardon my question, Vegeta, but how were the Gerdian people able repel a purging attempt?" Dr. Briefs spoke up. "It's not as though they could have had any advance warning, and I was under the impression that Saiyans were, well..."

"Vicious, bloodthirsty and violent savages?" Vegeta let out a sound halfway between a chuckle and a snort. "We were, when we went into battle, yes. But my father didn't know the truth about Gerdians when Frieza ordered the purge. Even Oozaru proved to be of no benefit to us." He beckoned to Anya. "Come over here and show them what you can do."

Anya nodded and came over to sit beside him, then took his hand.

"I can do that too," Bulma joked with a little giggle.

"Sure, but can you do this?" Anya extended her hand, palm up. A ball of ki formed on her palm, gradually growing in size until it was the size of a softball.

Bulma stared in amazement at the glowing blue mass of energy in her daughter-in-law's hand. "That's just... Did you create that, or..." She wasn't even sure what it was that she was trying to ask.

"No," Anya disagreed, "this is Pops' energy. I borrowed, well, kind of leeched a bit of ki from him, if you will, when I touched his bare skin. In doing so, Pops' ki replaced whatever energy I had from incidental contact with Geta. I can use it to do whatever it is that Pops can do, as long as I understand how."

"That's amazing," Bulma breathed. "Not to change the subject, but what else can you do?"

"My favorite thing has always been flying. It's so exhilarating, such a free feeling," Anya responded with not much forethought.

"I dunno, you seem to like blowing stuff up," Geta teased good-naturedly. "You should have been there the first time she tried making a ki ball."

Faster than most of them in the room could see, Anya got up from the couch and leapt upon her chortling husband. "I'll ki ball you if you don't watch it," she mock growled, striking him on the chest with her fists in a manner obviously not intended to inflict injury upon her victim.

Her victim, however, seemed to be enjoying the attention and continued to chuckle as he grabbed her comparatively tiny fists in his hands. "Don't tease." Geta kissed her hands gently.

She sighed and curled up against his chest. "So, I guess that's pretty much it. After I arrived here, I moved from place to place, trying to find food and shelter with different groups of refugees. I was forced to learn Standard on my own, and how to fend for myself. It wasn't long before I met this guy." She poked her husband for emphasis.

"How long did it take you to learn Standard?" Bulma asked, fascinated by the younger woman's story.

Anya looked up at Geta and shrugged. "I don't know. How long until I was understandable?"

"I could always understand you. Well, most of the time," Geta responded thoughtfully. "Anya's Standard was very broken when we met, but I did my darnedest to get to know her anyway. I think she used the 'no speaking Standard' ploy at first as an excuse to try to ditch me, but now she's just chatter, chatter, chatter all the time." He laughed at her protruding lower lip.

Anya smacked his chest playfully. "What's your excuse? You never shut up."

Vegeta watched the banter between his son and daughter-in-law only half-heartedly. His mind was elsewhere, digesting what Anya had divulged. He could easily relate to her loss, her pain. He would be hard pressed to admit it, but he'd grown quite fond of the young woman since her arrival. There was nothing he could do to bring back his parents, his people, or his planet. They were forever lost. But Anya and Geta had no intentions of returning to the future, and Anya had yet to lose anything in this timeline. Given effort- and an extreme amount of it- everything she had lost in the future could be preserved this time around.

But how to do it? Gerdia was a good six months' travel away. Given the eight month age difference between his son and daughter-in-law, Anya would be born in a little more than three months. Even if he did attempt to travel there in the girl's behalf, he could never make it there in time. If he tried to send the king a communicade, his story would never be believed and would only be perceived as a threat. He could not teleport there, because not only was he not entirely familiar with where Gerdia was in the universe, but he was completely unfamiliar with anyone's ki there. He needed to be able to locate a specific ki in order to gain a destination point. It simply wasn't possible. There wasn't a way to do it.

"Pops? Pops? Hellooooo...?" Anya giggled when Vegeta, who had been so engrossed in his musings that he hadn't heard her speaking to him, snapped back to reality. "Hey, where were you, lost in space?"

"Hmph. Whatever," Vegeta grumbled, embarrassed by being caught lost in thought for the second time that day.

"Drat, I could have given him another kiss on the cheek," Mrs. Briefs mock pouted, laughing along with the others as Vegeta's cheeks once again flushed pink. "He's just too quick for me otherwise."

A little growl escaped from the disgruntled Saiyan and he rose to his feet. "I'll be training."

Anya disentangled herself from her husband and stood up. "Aww, Pops. C'mon, nobody meant any harm, really. Don't be upset." She took his arm. "Bulma and Shatsu and Bunny want to see a demonstration and the boys will probably sleep for a while. Why don't you come outside with us?"

"I'll stay here with the kids," Geta offered. "Why don't you go on with Anya, Father? Maybe you could give her a few pointers."

Vegeta sighed. His daughter-in-law's green eyes weren't pleading with him the way Bulma's sometimes did, but shone softly at the prospect of him coming with them.

"Hey, it's late, and it's getting dark outside," Bulma spoke up. "Why don't we wait for tomorrow instead?"

"Fine, fine," Vegeta grumbled, inwardly pleased when Anya beamed in response.

***

"Hold your hands more like this." Vegeta reached over to reposition Anya's hands before demonstrating the proper positioning with his own. "The shape and spread of your fingers will determine the precise direction of your blast."

Understanding suddenly flooded into Anya's eyes. "Oh! No wonder I was always off target," she exclaimed.

Vegeta grunted in the affirmative and let a Galic Gun go into the atmosphere. He wasn't too keen on other people using his own technique, but Geta and Anya were exceptions he could live with. "Try it again."

She nodded and positioned her hands by her side before thrusting them forward and releasing the energy with a shout of triumph.

"I'll never get over how incredible that is to watch," Dr. Briefs murmured with a shake of his head. It was one thing when a laser generated a beam, or one of Vegeta's bots fired a blast, but those were artificial. This was energy internally produced by a living, breathing being, and the scientist in him was utterly fascinated by the workings of it.

His wife nodded in agreement. "Such power makes me feel like a teensy tiny speck in comparison."

He patted her on the shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short, Bunny. You make a mean chocolate truffle cake. That's no small feat."

Mrs. Briefs laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Dear. I can make that tomorrow for dessert."

"Mom, did you and Daddy see that? Bulma exclaimed, interrupting their conversation.

"Yes, quite the extraordinary display, young lady," Dr. Briefs commented. "So, the Gerdian people were able to fight back utilizing energy blasts?"

Anya nodded. "It's my understanding that some of them knew how to manipulate ki energy and used it to their advantage. But there were others who took advantage of Oozaru, too."

"You mean they turned into Oozaru the same way Saiyans do?" Bulma asked, her imagination running wild. Would they grow fur all over their bodies the way Saiyans did? Would they get tails? Grow taller?

"No, but they kind of went nutso," Anya told her, an impish grin playing upon her face. "Nobody had ever tried it before and certainly no one could control it, but when a couple Gerdians who'd been in the middle of the fight went berserk after looking at the moon, the others followed suit and did it deliberately. I guess they figured that unless they did something drastic they were all going to die anyway, so what did they have to lose? The Saiyan forces weren't nearly as large as the Gerdian population was, which wouldn't have been a problem if no one could fight back, but imagine what thousands of mindless, rampaging people could do, even to giant apes."

There was a pause. "Oh, my," Mrs. Briefs supplied.

"I think that about sums it up," Dr. Briefs agreed. He had to admit that there was a part of him that would have been fascinated to witness what Anya was depicting.

"Wow," Bulma breathed. "And I'm assuming that this was Gerdia's natural moon and not a ki moon?"

"Ki moon?" Anya asked, puzzled.

"Unlike his son, Kakarrot's father actually had some brains and figured out a way to use ki energy to emulate the effects of a full moon," Vegeta interjected, ignoring the sour look his mate was giving him. "I am uncertain as to whether it would have been regularly implemented by that point, or if it had even yet been discovered."

"Which means, there was no way to turn it off," Bulma mused. "The Gerdians would've been stuck like that until the sun came up or the ki energy they were using wore off."

Anya nodded. "Yes, and by sheer force of numbers they overpowered the Saiyans." She didn't feel the need to mention that they even managed to remove a few of the giant beasts' tails, forcing them to regress to their natural forms. Her father-in-law had similarly lost his own tail, and according to Geta was understandably touchy about it. No point in bringing it up. "They let a few of them go to let King Vegeta know that the mission had failed, but that was it. End of story." She contemplated this. "Wow, that was what? Going on thirty years ago. My father would have been a young boy then. Ten, maybe? That's probably why he insisted that I be taught the Saiyan language, so that if there were any of them left to form another attack on us, I wouldn't be left completely in the dark."

"You speak Saiyan, Anya?" Mrs. Briefs asked in surprise. "Oh, say something for us!"

/How interesting that she asked me instead of you,/ Anya noted, casting Vegeta a look of amusement. /Did she ever ask you?/

/No, but I never spoke it around her either,/ Vegeta responded. He was actually pleased that the girl knew his mother tongue. While it was more harsh and guttural than either Standard language or even the Gerdian tongue, he enjoyed speaking it and never thought he'd find another individual who did as well.

/Oh, by the way, grass is green, the sky is blue, and I like your shirt,/ Anya added casually.

Vegeta frowned slightly. /Why would you make such a statement?/

"Oh, what did you say to Vegeta, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked, answering Vegeta's question.

Vegeta smirked at Anya; she was a smart cookie. "She just made a few generic statements and then asked how her pronunciation was," he told the older woman. "It is actually quite good, but she has a very heavy accent."

"Oh?" Anya's eyebrow rose. "Let's hear your attempts at my language, then," she challenged, her arms crossing in a very Vegeta-esque fashion.

^What would you like me to say, Girl? Grass is green, the sky is blue, and I like your shirt?^ Vegeta responded innocently. ^That's pretty boring if you ask me.^

Anya sighed and shook her head. "It figures."

"What? What did he say?" Bulma asked.

"Oh, he just repeated what I said earlier, and nearly accent less, too," Anya responded. "Let me guess, you probably speak a gazillion languages, don't you?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Quite a few, yes, including some obscure lost languages. Something to do, I suppose," he responded casually. "Frieza had computer programs designed for quick absorption of information, including languages. Some I learned out of curiosity, while others I learned since I would be going to that planet."

"So why Gerdian?" Bulma asked, completely fascinated by the concept of information absorption. She thought about the scouter, and the possibility that it might contain information she could use to accomplish a similar feat.

"It was an accident, actually," Vegeta mused. "I asked for a different language, and the technician programmed Gerdian instead."

"Well, at least it was a nice mistake, Dear," Mrs. Briefs decided.

"Bulma, I wonder if we could develop something like that ourselves," Dr. Briefs interjected thoughtfully. "Think of how useful that would be for training purposes."

"You read my mind, Daddy." Bulma's eyebrow rose. "No wonder you know how to do so many things," she accused her mate.

"Hmph. What technical things I know I learned on my own," Vegeta objected sourly. "I learned cultural things from Frieza's databases."

"Now, now Dear," Mrs. Briefs soothed the irritated Saiyan. "So, Anya, how long until you use up Vegeta's energy?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. "Can you keep it for later?"

Anya smiled. "That's a good question, Bunny. Actually, it depends on how I use it. If I expend a lot of it quickly, it will be used up proportionally. But if I don't use it, it will gradually fade, kind of like hot food getting cold," she explained, knowing the older woman would be able to grasp her illustration. "Or, if I come into contact with someone else, their energy would displace Pops' energy, since I can only retain so much."

"Oh. Like what you did before with Geta's energy." Mrs. Briefs considered this as Anya nodded. "What uses it up fast, Dear?"

"Well, ki blasts like you just saw use up a lot, and powering up does too," Anya told her.

"Powering up?" Vegeta echoed. "Geta taught you how to do it?"

Anya nodded again. "It was one of the many things he taught me to do." She took Vegeta's hand again briefly, then stood back.

Vegeta watched, partly in wonder and partly in disturbance, as the young woman's aura glowed about her. Small rocks began to quiver at her feet and slowly rise into the air. Just what was it she hoped to accomplish?

"Can you go any higher?" Bulma asked. "Daddy, maybe we should run some tests on how Anya uses ki energy. It might help us build a good ki battery," she suggested.

"I hadn't considered that, Pumpkin," Dr. Briefs responded. "That's an excellent idea."

Excited now, Bulma turned back to Anya. "Can you power up any higher?"

"Uhm, yes," Anya answered hesitantly. She knew what she was capable of and didn't want to step on Vegeta's toes. From the look on his face, if she went all the way, she'd probably do just that.

"So let's see," Bulma urged. "Go as high as you can without hurting yourself."

Anya frowned. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"No, show us, Anya." Vegeta crossed his arms. There was the morbidly curious part of him that had to see just what she could do.

Anya took in a deep breath, nodded, and closed her eyes as she let the energy flow through her body. Her aura flashed blue momentarily, before exploding into a burst of gold.

"Oh my goodness," Mrs. Briefs whispered, breaking the uncomfortable silence; no one else had the courage to speak to the Saiyan standing nearby, whose astonishment was quickly turning to anger.

"How?" Vegeta choked out, just barely keeping himself from shouting at the girl hovering above the ground before them.

Anya opened her eyes and fixed their pupil less teal gaze upon him. "I don't know, Pops. It's your energy," she began softly. "I can't create this. I can only emulate what you can do with it. Geta explained what happens to him when he transforms and, well, I tried to channel your ki energy that way. This is the result."

Vegeta realized that his jaw had clenched and his fists were balled tightly shut. He knew that Anya was not to blame for his anger, as she had only done what he personally had requested of her. It wasn't her fault that it was now painfully obvious to him- and everyone else- that he did indeed have the power to become a Super Saiyan, but had yet to accomplish it, while she, an alien, did it almost effortlessly. But he didn't want to make her the recipient of his anger, so without further reply, he rocketed into the air, building up speed quickly enough to break the sound barrier.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Briefs whispered. There was nothing else to say.

"Great," Anya grumbled, returning to her natural state. "I knew he would be offended."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Anya," Bulma assured her upset daughter-in-law. "He probably suspected you could do it, and had to see for himself. He'll be all right when he calms down." ~More than likely, he'll train harder than ever before, and I'll never see him.~

Anya sighed, still upset by Vegeta's hasty retreat. "I'm sure you're right," she murmured. "We should get back to the house before I use up all of this ki."

***

Damn Super Saiyan. A slip of a girl who wasn't even Saiyan could do it, and with his own energy, no less. A Kami damned third-class idiot could do it. But could he? Of course not! Vegeta sullenly kicked at a piece of rock left over from a boulder he'd blasted. The satisfaction he normally derived from destroying things had done little to alleviate his sour mood.

A familiar ki was approaching. It could only be one of two people but, judging by the 'soft' feel of it, he doubted it was the first individual who had come to mind. "Anya," he murmured as his sensitive hearing detected feet touch the ground.

There was a long pause. "Pops, could I talk to you please?"

Upon hearing the distressed tone to Anya's voice, Vegeta turned around to face her. "Speak," he told her emotionlessly.

Anya caught her breath and bit at her lip. She really had hurt his pride. "Pops, I'm sorry about what happened today. I never intended to hurt or embarrass you."

Vegeta felt his irritation waning as she continued to nibble at her lip, blinking back tears as she did so. He sighed; her tears were not for her own sake; they were for him, because of him. "I told you earlier, no more of these ridiculous tears."

Anya's face immediately changed from one of sadness to one of indignation. "My tears are not ridiculous!" she shouted, surprising him. "If I didn't care about you or how you felt, I wouldn't be here, let alone crying because I hurt you!" she continued angrily. "There's nothing wrong with letting people know you care, and if I thought it might make a difference, I would suggest that perhaps you might take a lesson from my ridiculous display!" She turned on her heel and took to the air.

"Anya!" Vegeta called after her. "Anya, come back over here."

She stopped and looked at him behind her shoulder. "Speak."

Vegeta let out a long sigh. He knew he hadn't been very civil to the young woman, who had been only trying to make peace with him. "Look," he began uncomfortably, "I..."

"You were rude and unkind to me, after I came looking for you to apologize for what happened, even though you told me to do it?" Anya suggested, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Vegeta sighed again. "Yes, I was rude and unkind," he acknowledged, a little embarrassed to be doing so, "and you owe me no apology."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly in surprise. That hadn't been what she'd expected him to say. Now she found herself taking a turn at being at a loss for words. "Pops, I..."

"Come here, Anya," Vegeta repeated in a soft voice. He held his hand out to her.

His words may not have reflected it, but his stance spoke more than words could ever say. Had he been wearing gold and jewels and elegant clothing made of the finest of fabrics, he could have been standing in a palace and looking completely the part. Her dignity now a little closer to being restored, Anya set down in front of him and accepted his offering.

He raised her hand in his and placed a genteel kiss upon it. "I apologize for my rather uncouth behavior, milady, and hope that henceforth you might be in better spirits toward me."

Anya smiled. So, he could be a gentleman after all. "Thank you, good sir," she responded, just as politely. "Perhaps we might start by returning home to eat dinner. Bunny has been keeping it warm in the hopes that you might join us."

Vegeta let out a little snort of amusement. Not only did Anya not take advantage of the opportunity he had presented to her, but what she had said sounded precisely like what Bunny would do. "Very well," he agreed.

Her smile widened. After the incident in the GR, she had expected that she'd be able to get him to come. "Shall we?"

He shook his head this time, his smirk firmly in place. "You're really something else, aren't you?" He was beginning to see how easily his son so very much valued this young woman.

"Yes, and don't you forget it," Anya retorted, surprising him with another hug. She giggled when she heard him sigh, and his hand awkwardly patted her back.

"I wasn't upset with you, Anya," Vegeta murmured. "I was just..."

"Frustrated," Anya finished for him. "It's not difficult to understand how this could be frustrating to you."

"Yeah." Vegeta decided to end the conversation before he could become irritated again by the very thought of it. "Let's go eat dinner."

"Okay. Fly?" The evening sky was beautiful, the setting sun painting bright streaks of color across it as an artist's brush might beautify a canvas.

"Sure. Why not?"

***

Vegeta crammed another pancake into his mouth and nearly choked when he turned the page of the magazine Mrs. Briefs had left on the kitchen table. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, not caring that his mouth was still full.

"What?" Bulma repositioned their enthusiastically nursing son slightly so she could lean over to see the magazine he was holding up and rolled her eyes. Great, another one. "Oh Vegeta, why do you even look at that trash?"

Vegeta swallowed. "It was sitting here," he retorted defensively. While it was a weak excuse at best, it wasn't as though the prince actually looked for The West Capital Scandalmonger magazine. It was just something that he oftentimes found conveniently lying around after the blonde female had her morning coffee, and it frequently contained unflattering- and therefore amusing- pictures of various humans. Many of them he had seen on the television, so he recognized that socially they were persons of importance. Seeing them knocked down a peg or two only made the embarrassing photos all the more amusing to look at. It was, however, a completely different feeling when the person of importance happened to be one's own mate. "What the hell is this?" he repeated, pointing to a picture of Bulma and their son and mentally thanking the gods that it was nothing embarrassing.

Bulma sighed. Her mother had neglected to tell her about that particular picture. Normally Mrs. Briefs threw out the issues that contained a picture of one of them before the proud prince could see it, but she must have become sidetracked by something and forgotten to dispose of the magazine. Bulma too had managed to hide the photos from him so far, but it was inevitable that eventually one would sneak through the cracks. He'd reacted with surprise when he'd seen her at a press conference on the evening news on television once, but this was a trashy magazine. "That's from when I went to lunch with Chi-Chi last week. I took VJ with me, and the paparazzi caught a picture of us coming out. No big deal."

"Hmph." Vegeta took a gulp of his coffee. "I do not want whoever this paparazzi individual is photographing you or the boy, especially without prior authorization."

She shrugged and put the baby over her shoulder, patting his back to burp him. "Vegeta, the paparazzi are just a bunch of amateur photographers who take candid pictures of famous people and sell them to these magazines and newspapers. Unless they're stalking me or violating my privacy on private property, most of the time it's not something I worry about." If she had bothered to worry about every picture they'd ever snapped of her with Yamcha, she would have never had a moment's rest.

Vegeta frowned. "I demand that they desist immediately."

Bulma snorted and laughed. "Yeah, and I demand that the sun stop shining during the day."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "How can that be constituted as a reasonable demand?"

"It isn't, but they seem to think depriving them of their sleazy means of living is unreasonable, too." Bulma patted his arm comfortingly, as he looked rather perturbed. "Sweetie, I just had to get used to it. You will too."

His frown deepened. He knew that the Briefs were persons of great importance in the business world of this planet; he had understood that and grudgingly accepted that appearing on television or even a photograph in a legitimate newspaper might be constituted part of doing business. That was one thing, but the thought of someone photographing his mate and son for a trashy magazine without her consent and earning money doing so was deeply disturbing to him. What else were they photographing? His training sessions, perhaps? Capsule Corp trade secrets? "I sincerely doubt that."

"Well, what do you want me to do, never go outside?" Bulma put VJ into his bouncer and got up to pour herself some coffee. "There's nothing I can do about it, so why stress over it?"

Vegeta growled. "If they know what's best for them, I had better never be displayed in any of those disgraceful photographs," he groused irritably.

She sighed. Should she tell him or not? "Vegeta, I hate to break it to you, but you were once."

"What?" Vegeta all but roared. He scowled when the baby began to cry. He hadn't meant to frighten his son and became irritated when he found himself feeling guilty about it. The child was fine.

Bulma contained another sigh and scooped up their son. "Shhhh, it's okay, baby boy. Daddy's just upset," she soothed. "Vegeta, there was one picture once, when we went to the 'Tiny Tots' store," she began hesitantly. "They just got the back of your head, that's all."

"That's still too much," he growled, getting up from the table to retrieve the entire coffee pot. He was going to need it.

"What? I thought you wanted to be worshiped," Bulma teased, winking when he scowled at her irritably. "Look, it's not as though you go many places with me anyway, so you really don't have much to complain about."

Vegeta didn't miss the hurt tone to her voice. "What is that supposed to mean, Woman?" he demanded.

Bulma sighed. There was no sense in beating around the bush; his sensitivities were already ruffled. "It's just that we hardly ever go anywhere together, so how could they get many pictures of you? I mean, Yamcha and I used to go out all the time and-"

"I am not that scar-faced idiot," Vegeta interrupted sourly. "Do not compare me to him." He poured himself another cup of coffee. "Yamcha, hmph."

Bulma put her son back into the bouncer. "Well, you may not like the idea, but it might be to your benefit to make some public appearances with me," she suggested.

Vegeta frowned. What was she getting at? Suddenly it hit him, and he sat up straighter in his seat. "Don't tell me..." He eyed his dozing son warily.

Bulma wrung her hands nervously at the expression on his face. "Damn it, Vegeta, what are people supposed to think? I never go anywhere with a boyfriend or anything like that and Yamcha was the last person I openly dated, so naturally they assume that, well..."

Vegeta's scowl deepened. He was loathe to admit it, but she had a point. He'd only been with her to the physician for females' office and shopping a couple of times. Usually they went out to eat. How these nosy humans had only managed to photograph him once was actually quite strange. Then again, he had been gone for over half of a year... He shoved the thought away; that was beside the point and he'd done nothing wrong!

"I guess I don't know what you expect me to do," Bulma continued, interrupting his thoughts.

"I expect you to get yourself and the boy dressed," Vegeta instructed in a tone that bode no opposition. "We will go out."

Bulma snorted in amusement. "You mean find them before they find us? Now there's a noble idea." She kissed him on the cheek before picking up the baby and leaving the kitchen.

Vegeta sighed and poured himself still another cup of coffee. Now what he gotten himself into?

***

"Oh, that dress is adorable." Bulma gazed at the boutique window for a long moment before turning to him with big blue puppy eyes. "Would it kill you too much if I went inside?"

"Perhaps not me, but one of us might meet an untimely death," Vegeta commented in a not so innocent fashion.

Bulma huffed impatiently. He'd been dropping little hints like that a lot lately and it was becoming annoying. What was wrong with simply saying he didn't want to? "Fine."

"You have more than enough clothing, Woman," Vegeta informed her. "Besides, if you go inside for that garment, you will end up trying on half the store." He'd learned that lesson the hard way when she'd taken him shopping at the mall. If she saw anything she even remotely wanted either of them to try on, it took forever.

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "You're probably right," she conceded. "And you've been incredibly patient today." She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Bulma, stop it," he muttered when she leaned in for a kiss. They were in plain sight on the street, and he'd seen at least two individuals who he was positive were following them.

"Oh, Vegeta," she chastised him gently before leaning in and kissing him soundly.

He found his body relaxing as his arms slid around her and he returned the kiss. Weak... he was truly becoming weak... She was so easily able to manipulate him with that body and that mouth and those eyes.

Bulma pulled back and gazed at him fondly. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" She giggled at the expression on his face.

"Hmph."

Her smile widened. "Don't worry. I promise I'll make it up to you."

Vegeta blinked, spots momentarily clouding his vision as a flash went off in his face. "What the...?"

"And so it begins," Bulma murmured. She gave the photographer a little smile that seemed rather forced and began to push VJ's stroller. "Come on, Vegeta, let's keep moving."

"You were right. It is Bulma Briefs!"

Bulma bit back a groan. There were several of them. One or two she could deal with, but several meant them flocking around her, competing with each other for the best shot.

"Ms Briefs! Is this man your boyfriend?" one of them shouted.

"Is he the father of your child? Rumor has it that the baseball player Yamcha-"

That did it.

Vegeta snatched up his son from the stroller and held him protectively. "Enough of this foolish talk," he yelled irritably. "By the gods, what is the problem with you nosy people?"

Despite the photographers' mouths momentarily falling silent their cameras did not as they continued to take pictures, flashes going off all around the couple despite the beautifully sunny skies.

Bulma tried not to wince. This wasn't going to fare well. "Vegeta," she began nervously.

"I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, and this is my son," Vegeta continued in a much calmer voice. "Make no mistake about that." He quickly encapsulated the stroller and shoved the capsule into his pocket. "Let's get out of here," he growled under his breath.

"Fine by me," she murmured back, relieved that he had not made too horrible of a scene.

Vegeta attempted to steer them through the swarm of people who had begun to gather and still retain his temper. They were pressing in so closely, their cameras thrust into their faces, that escape was nigh impossible. The baby snuggling against his shoulder began to cry, and Vegeta decided he'd had enough. "Take the boy," he decided, handing VJ to his mother.

Bulma took their son from him. "Vegeta, what are you- oh!" Her eyes widened and she gasped when he scooped her up and took to the air. She clutched their baby closer. "Vegeta, this will be all over the papers tomorrow," she informed him.

"Let them talk," Vegeta retorted. "The truth cannot be any worse than the lies they have already been spreading about the boy, can it?" His face twisted into a frown. "Yamcha, my son's father. Hmph."

Bulma opened her mouth to respond. "I..." She closed her mouth. He was right, and he had done this for her sake. She hadn't wanted to so openly flaunt Vegeta's abilities and make him an even bigger target of the media, but he was right. At least they'd be gossiping about the truth this time.

"Hmph. Meddlesome vultures," Vegeta grumbled in disgust. He supposed that he really should have expected something like this to happen sooner or later without deliberately seeking it out since Bulma was wealthy and well known in the community. Humans were a nosy sort, and of course they would want to know who her son's sire was. It was just as well; he would not stand for anyone thinking that Bulma was mating with her idiotic ex-boyfriend.

***

"My goodness."

"What is it, Daddy?" Bulma asked, peering over her father's shoulder at the newspaper he was reading. She blinked in surprise. She wasn't surprised to see a picture of her and Vegeta during their outing the previous day, but the one they'd chosen to print made her eyes go wide and a flush of pink spread across her cheeks. "Uhm, yeah."

"Let's see!" Anya demanded, taking a spot behind the doctor's other shoulder. She giggled nervously. "Oh boy... Pops is going to have a cow when he sees this."

"Hand it over."

All three of them looked up. Vegeta was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and lips pursed in what it was unclear was either irritation or resignation to the inevitable.

Dr. Briefs handed the paper to him silently.

Vegeta looked at it. His eye twitched but he kept his composure. "Figures they chose to print that one," he growled as he stared at the large photograph on the front page of the Western Capital Daily News depicting him and Bulma locked in a passionate embrace, their wide-eyed son looking up at them from his stroller as they kissed. He had no idea what the large print above the picture said and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Vegeta..." Bulma began hesitantly.

"Whatever." Vegeta tossed the paper onto the table with a scowl. "I might have expected that." He shook his head. "While I am not exactly pleased by this, at least they will not dare sully your reputation any further by continuing to insinuate that you are fraternizing with that Yamcha moron in such a disgraceful manner."

"Yeah, I suppose 'Capsule Corp Princess Finds Her Prince' is a better newspaper headline than 'Is Titan Yamcha Baby Briefs' Daddy?' in some tabloid," Anya added casually before Bulma could speak up in her friend's defense and an argument started.

Vegeta's lips set in a straight line as she spoke. So. It was true. People did think that Bulma's former mate was his son's father. He found himself itching to know what the newspaper article said, but he'd be damned if he'd ask anyone to read it to him. Hell, he didn't want anyone to think he was even remotely interested.

But, of course, he was.

Damn.

He'd just have to steal the newspaper and attempt to decipher it later.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned to Bulma. "What is it, Bulma?" he asked. His voice was quiet, as though he was tired.

"I just..." Bulma trailed off with a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Shatsu, didn't you have something to show me in the lab?" Anya asked, herding the doctor out of the kitchen.

Vegeta waited until the kitchen door shut before speaking. "Look, I am not angry about the photograph," he told her in the same tired voice. "I just..."

"Don't like showing affection to me in public," Bulma finished in an equally tired voice. He wasn't looking at her, which made her feel even more uncomfortable about the whole situation.

Vegeta's eyes snapped over to hers. "You know why that is, why I choose not to have my photograph taken, and why I allowed it this once," he growled in an angry tone just short of shouting. "If anyone not native to this mud ball happens to recognize me, you are dead, Woman, you and the boy at a minimum. I told you, everything and everyone associated with me has and will be used against me. Do not think that you are any different, or that your status on this planet changes any of that, because it does not, I assure you." His thoughts returned to the incident in the men's room at the mall. What were the odds that one of Frieza's lieutenants would come to Earth and happen across him? If he hadn't killed the man, who knew what could have happened? Bulma had been standing right outside of the restroom, and no doubt would have approached him despite the danger she would be putting herself in if she had thought something was amiss. It would have been evident that she at least knew him, making her a target.

Bulma was clearly upset by his words but nodded, biting at her lip as she did so. "I understand."

Cursing the ache his heart felt when she hurt, he drew her into his arms and held her close. "Stop this foolishness, Bulma," he murmured sternly.

She swallowed and nodded again. It hurt her that he thought her feelings were foolish, but she did understand why he felt that way. Instead, she chose to bask in the warmth of his embrace and the knowledge that he had initiated it, something he rarely did unless he was attempting to lure her to their bed. "I love you, Vegeta," she whispered.

"I know."

***

"Vegeta, please. You can't go in there. Bulma's in a meeting..." Nuiko's voice trailed off as she helplessly watched Vegeta stroll by her without so much as a glance. She sighed. "Here we go," she murmured, knowing that inevitably one of these days the man would pop in while Bulma was in a meeting.

"So when you consider the potential profit margin of this project..." Bulma stopped mid-sentence as the conference room door opened. She'd heard Nuiko's frantic voice only moments earlier, and had hoped that it hadn't been for the reason she'd suspected. She'd been wrong.

"My GR is broken," Vegeta announced in an authoritative voice.

Bulma just kept herself from wincing at his appearance, let alone the interruption. He wore only his black training shorts and a beat up pair of sneakers. He had multiple cuts and abrasions on his body, including a large gash above one eye, from which a steady stream of blood trickled down the side of his head. To top it off, he stank to high heaven. "Vegeta, this is really a bad time," she began tiredly. "I'm in a staff meeting." The only saving grace about the situation was that he hadn't interrupted her earlier sales meeting, which had been with a very important client who was interested in one of her inventions.

"I can see that," he groused irritably, crossing his arms over his chest. "How much longer will you be? I need repairs completed as soon as possible."

Bulma suppressed a sigh. "I'm sorry, everyone. If you could give me just a moment, I'll be right back." She stepped out of the conference room, leading him out ahead of her and closing the door. It didn't help when she heard one of the women in the room comment 'damn, he's fine' before the door shut. "Look, Vegeta. You can't just come barging in here whenever you want, especially when I'm in a meeting," she began, rubbing her fingers over her temples in little circles.

"My GR is broken," Vegeta reminded her. "I need you to repair it."

"I know the GR is broken," Bulma responded calmly. "But as I said, I am in a meeting right now."

"I know that," Vegeta responded in an equally calm voice. "Be glad I waited until the important part was over."

"All of my meetings are important!"

"More important than my training?"

Bulma opened her mouth to reply and closed it again. He had her effectively trapped. If she said that his training was more important, that would be giving him leave to burst in and demand her attention whenever he pleased. If she said the meeting was more important, she would offend and anger him. "Vegeta, if I didn't agree that your training was important, I wouldn't have made you the GR, your bots, the regeneration tank, any of it. Of course your training is important, but so is my work. I'm afraid that you'll just have to find something else to do until I'm done here. All right?" She found a clean spot on one cheek and pressed her lips upon it with a gentle kiss. "I love you."

Vegeta let out a disgruntled 'hmph' but said nothing. It was, as the woman had reminded him on prior occasions, her work that generated the large sums of money required to build, maintain and power his equipment. He knew her work was important, but that didn't make having to wait for her any easier nor any more entertaining.

"I know," Bulma continued in the same mild tone she'd just used to soothe him, "you could get cleaned up while my meeting finishes, then we could go to lunch. Maybe to Buffalo Bob's?" she suggested.

Vegeta's face brightened a little. "You mean the place with the large steaks and the avalanche ice creams?"

Bulma nodded, smiling at his obvious interest. "One and the same," she agreed. "Then I could get off a little early this afternoon after I finish up a few things that I have to get done today." She placed a kiss on his other cheek. "So what do you say?"

"I suppose that would be an acceptable alternative," Vegeta grumbled, but she could tell that her compromise had worked and he wasn't irritated any more.

"Good. I should only be about half an hour or maybe a little longer." Bulma graced him with a smile before turning back toward the conference room. "Nuiko?"

"I'm on it, Bulma. Did you want me to mention Saturday?" Nuiko responded, as casually as if nothing had just happened. It certainly hadn't been the first time Vegeta had come plowing in to the office to complain that the GR had broken, he needed more bots, he was hungry, whatever. Sometimes they bickered about it. Most of the time she was able to pacify him. This was nothing new. In fact, what had just transpired had been quite sedate.

"Oh, right. I'd completely forgotten. Yes, thank you." Bulma blew her mate a kiss before disappearing back into the depths of the conference room.

"Saturday?" Vegeta asked, a bit of skepticism coloring his voice.

"Yes, I'll get to that." Nuiko picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons. "Miwa, can you come up for a little bit, please? Thanks." She hung up the phone and gestured for Vegeta to follow him. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

"I do not require your assistance, Woman," Vegeta retorted irritably. "I am quite capable of tending to my own needs."

"Mmm-hmm. Just come with me, please," Nuiko repeated, heading for the medical facilities. "You need stitches for that cut on your face."

Vegeta let out a huff of impatience but followed the raven-haired female from the room. "Pushy females and their stupid hormones," he growled under his breath. "She'd better be done with this soon."

Nuiko managed to hold in her laugh. She suspected that 'she'd better be done with this soon' referred more to Bulma's current physical state of being than to her meeting. Bulma did tend to become cranky, if not downright bitchy, during that time of the month. He did too, for a related reason, she was sure. "Okay, here we are," she commented to no one in particular. "Let's see whose shift it is."

"Hi there, Nuiko," a plump, brown-haired young woman greeted them. "I see you've brought my favorite self-destructive patient back for some stitches, hmm?"

Nuiko chuckled. "Definitely. He's got a gusher going on there."

The doctor came over to inspect her patient. "Sit down here, Vegeta, so I can take a look."

"I do not require any assistance," Vegeta repeated stubbornly.

The doctor pointed to a chair and crossed her arms, scowling at him. "Sit. Down. Now."

"You go, Doc," Nuiko praised the smirking physician, who'd obviously figured out by now how to bully the sulking man. "Come now, Vegeta. You're bleeding all over."

There was no sense in arguing with these women. Vegeta had already determined that, like all females, they would not shut the hell up until they got what they desired. Unfortunately for him, this particular physician was very touchy-feely, and had even made a comment once about what an 'exquisite specimen' he was.

Wonderful.

"Fine, just hurry up," he grumbled, sitting down where the doctor had indicated.

"All right, Saturday," Nuiko began as the doctor prepped her unwilling patient. "Bulma has a benefit party to go to Saturday night, so she asked me to order you a tuxedo. Her tailor is going to stop by with it for you to try on at four o'clock."

"What are you talking about, Woman?" Vegeta demanded, grimacing when the doctor made the first prick of her needle.

"None of that please, Vegeta," the doctor reprimanded gently. "I guess I should have warned you first."

"Bah, whatever." Vegeta waved that off; a little pain meant less than nothing to him and he always refused any type of anesthesia. "What are you talking about?" he repeated.

"Bulma has a social event to go to, and you need something nice to wear," Nuiko began. "So I called the tailor for you, since they already have all of your measurements on file."

Vegeta frowned, earning himself a poke to the ribs this time. "Why do I need such ridiculous clothing if it's her party?" He knew the answer, of course- that Bulma was obviously expecting him to go, too- but decided to give Nuiko a hard time.

"I know you're not that slow, Vegeta," Nuiko responded casually. This one wasn't going to get to her and still be in good with Bulma. She knew it and knew that he knew it, too. "Of course Bulma requires an escort, and you'd rip apart any other guy she went with, wouldn't you?"

"Damn straight. She's my..." Vegeta scowled again; he'd been caught. Especially after what had happened with those meddling photographers, there was no disputing her statement. "Damn it."

"Okay, four o'clock. And thank you, Dr. Kimura." Nuiko waved her goodbyes and left the medical ward.

"No problem," Dr. Kimura called after her. "You know, this would have been so much easier on us both if you'd have simply quit it with the faces." She snipped the thread and set her needle down. "Here, if you hold this against the stitches, they can probably come out in five or ten minutes. I didn't use butterfly bandages because the cut was so deep." She placed a cloth soaked with regenerative fluid against his brow.

"Whatever," the irritable man growled again, reaching up to hold the cloth against his head. He didn't need this insane female touching him any more than was necessary. "Party, hmph."

***

"Sir, I must say that it looks spectacular on you," the tailor commented, stepping back to view his handiwork. "Black is definitely a favorable color for you."

Vegeta scowled at his reflection in the full-length mirror. The ensemble reminded him of one of those silly-looking waddling birds that lived in the snow he had seen on a nature program on the television. "I look ludicrous, and these garments are uncomfortable," he balked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But Sir, it fits you just as it should," the tailor ventured hesitantly.

"Never mind that, we'll take it," Bulma interjected. "Why are you being so belligerent about this, Vegeta?"

"I was tricked into wearing these ridiculous garments and attending a stupid party where there will no doubt be more of these idiot paparazzi lurking around, and you think that I should be pleased about it?" Vegeta groused, scowling at her.

Bulma had to admit that he had a legitimate complaint and couldn't blame him. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. Mom and Daddy were going to go but something else came up that's more urgent, so now I have to go. I didn't know about it myself until today." She walked over to him and took one of his hands in hers, running her thumbs along it soothingly. "It would make me so happy if you would go with me."

Damn it. There were those pleading blue eyes of hers again. Vegeta let out a low growl but didn't respond.

"Nobu, I'll still take the tuxedo-"

"You are only wasting your money, since I will never wear this stupid thing."

"And," Bulma continued, ignoring Vegeta's irritable interruption, "a nice sports jacket and slacks for Saturday. You can get me that, can't you?"

"Of course, Ms. Briefs, it would be my pleasure," Nobu assured her. "In fact, I will bring several selections for you to choose from when I bring your new gown tomorrow."

"Nobu, you're a lifesaver," Bulma told him gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Briefs." Nobu collected his things. "We'll find you something suitable, Sir. Don't worry at all."

Vegeta had already changed back into his regular clothes by the time Bulma returned from seeing Nobu out. "Vegeta, believe me when I say that you looked very handsome in the tuxedo," she told him softly. She wrapped her arms around him and nestled her cheek into his chest.

Vegeta sighed. There was no way out of this without upsetting the woman. "Fine, I'll go," he growled. "But I refuse to wear that ugly garment."

"You don't have to," Bulma told him in the same soft tone. "And thank you, Honey. You've made me very happy."

"Hmph. You owe me for this, Woman." Vegeta scowled. He was growing softer and softer every day, and he hated it.

"Oh, I'll pay up." Bulma pressed herself up against him, inwardly pleased when she heard the soft rumble from within his chest and felt his arms encircle her. She kissed his cheek. "Tomorrow," she breathed in his ear, in a voice that never failed to arouse him.

***

"At least pretend that you're enjoying yourself," Bulma whispered out of the corner of her mouth as they entered the banquet hall.

"Whatever," Vegeta grumbled. He did not want to be there, but at least attending this function would serve to help put to rest any remaining rumors about Bulma's mysterious "boyfriend" and who the father of her son really was. He had to admit, however, that the woman on his arm, his woman, did indeed look very beautiful, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride because of it.

"Bulma! So good to see you!" A man and his wife came up to them.

Vegeta observed as Bulma greeted the people in an equally enthusiastic voice and began conversing with them. He wasn't pleased when the older man kissed her cheek in greeting, but reined in his temper; Bulma had warned him that people from different social backgrounds would be in attendance and that their customs meant no affront to him. She had also warned him about how he might be introduced.

"Do you remember my wife, Eri?" the man asked.

"Yes, of course! It's good to see you again," Bulma replied cheerfully. "This is Vegeta." She reasserted her grip on her mate's arm and gave it a little squeeze as she smiled adoringly at him.

"Hello there, Vegeta," the woman greeted him. "So, you're Bulma's boyfriend," she stated.

Boyfriend. Now there was a word Vegeta found to be truly distasteful; he was neither a boy nor the woman's friend. He was her mate. But Bulma had explained that 'boyfriend' was the closest word to describe their relationship that people would understand- reminding him that even Chi-Chi had questioned the meaning of the term 'mate'- and so for her sake he bit his tongue. "Yes, I am," he responded instead, willing himself to be polite to the lecherous old woman openly sizing him up. "It's good to meet you."

The woman hadn't seemed to have noticed his trepidation, especially when he gave her a suave smile, took her hand, and kissed it. She clasped her other hand over her chest and laughed in delight. "Bulma, I must say that you certainly know how to find a delightful young man," she cooed, thoroughly charmed.

Bulma laughed in response, but Vegeta could tell that it wasn't completely genuine. "Oh, he's a keeper all right," she cooed back, gripping his arm even more tightly. "Well, it was lovely talking with you."

As the older couple responded in kind and moved along, Vegeta couldn't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction. If Bulma wanted to play this game, he'd play to win.

Bulma did not miss his smug expression. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Believe it or not, I do have manners, when I choose to use them, Bulma," Vegeta responded smoothly. "Besides, if he found it to be socially acceptable to kiss my mate right in front of me, ought I not to return the gesture?"

Bulma found herself staring at him in shocked surprise and righted herself before letting out a little snort of indignance. "You're a real piece of work, all right."

"Yes, I must admit that this suit you've forced me to wear does look rather fetching on me," Vegeta answered innocently. A slow smile spread across his lips as he gauged her reaction out of the corner of his eye, although he made no pretense of hiding it.

Bulma chuckled and shook her head. "All right, let's mingle. But first, a drink." She lead him over to the bar and removed a few zeni from the tiny designer handbag she was holding. "Two glasses of red wine, please," she requested, putting the money into the tip jar.

"Here you are, Ma'am. Thank you very much and enjoy your evening." The bartender set the wine down in front of them.

"Thank you." Bulma picked up one of the glasses and took a sip. "Mmm, that's good," she murmured. "Vegeta, that one is for you." She watched as he sniffed his wine and took a tentative sip. "Well? Do you like it?"

Vegeta took another sip of the wine and nodded in approval. "It is different from the wine I have consumed elsewhere, but I find it to be rather palatable."

Bulma smiled, pleased by the notion that Vegeta just might behave himself and that the evening just might turn out well.

***

"Where did he go?" Frowning, Bulma scanned the sea of people in the room in an effort to locate her mate. It wasn't that difficult, as she rather easily zeroed in on his unique hairstyle. She found herself surprised since it hadn't taken her all that long to use the lavatory and freshen up her makeup, and in that short time he'd managed to wander to the other side of the room. She couldn't help but be concerned; although his behavior had been exceptional thus far, Vegeta was not the most personable nor social individual and until now hadn't left her side all evening, despite the fact that she could tell he was less than interested in the conversations she was having.

"I truly hadn't thought of it in those terms. What a fascinating concept you've proposed, Mr. Vegeta," she heard someone say as she made her way over to him. "I dare say you've given me a lot to think about."

"Indeed." Vegeta nodded politely and took another sip of his wine. It was white this time, meaning he'd gotten himself still another glass of it other than the ones she'd already seen him drink. The multiple glasses of wine didn't appear to be affecting him, however, as he was still fully alert and not the least bit lethargic.

"Dr. Morita, Dr. Ueda, how good to see you." Bulma took her place beside Vegeta and shook the hands of the men that he had been talking to. "I see you've met Vegeta."

"Yes, and we've had quite the insightful conversation, too," Dr. Ueda remarked.

"Really?" Bulma found herself decided curious. Dr. Morita nodded in agreement. "Oh, Vegeta, I almost forgot to mention that they've put out some more hors d'oeuvres if you're interested. I think I even saw some shrimp over there." No sooner had the statement issued forth from her mouth did Vegeta's stomach rumble audibly enough to be heard above the chatter in the room.

The two men laughed. "Go on," Dr. Morita urged. "You're obviously hungry."

A little embarrassed by his stomach's reaction to the thought of food, Vegeta politely dismissed himself and headed toward the smell of the food.

Bulma chuckled. "That worked. The man is a bottomless pit and he's quite fond of seafood."

"Worked?"

A smile played at her lips. "You must understand, he'd probably never tell me what he was talking about that seemed so utterly fascinating to two world renown physicists, and I'm very curious." Her smile broadened. "Come on, you've both known me since I was in diapers."

"Oh, it's nothing secretive," Dr. Ueda told her. "Your boyfriend, I presume?" he began, pausing to allow her nod of confirmation, "has quite an astounding grasp on the subject of quantum mechanics. In fact, he had ideas that even neither us had ever contemplated."

Bulma knew she was gaping, stammering as she attempted to verbalize her thoughts. "Qu-quantum mechanics? Vegeta?" She turned her head to look back his way.

"Oh, yes," Dr. Morita agreed. Even I felt a little inept by some of the thoughts he presented while we were talking."

One blue brow rose, then her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "Okay, hold on a minute here. Are you two being serious or are you just pulling my leg?"

The two scientists exchanged a glance. Bulma obviously had no concept of the level of her boyfriend's intelligence. "We're very serious, Bulma," Dr. Ueda told her solemnly. "I told him to let me know if he ever needs employment. In fact, I'd love to see his credentials. Do you happen to know at what universities he was educated?"

Bulma just managed to keep herself from gaping at her peers again. "I... I don't know if he has any formal education," she stammered. "He's never mentioned it." She knew very well that Vegeta hadn't gone to school on Earth, but how could she say that if he had received education- other than what he had during the few years of his life before being taken by Frieza- that it would have been on some other planet? She'd be opening up an even bigger can of worms.

"Well, if that truly is the case, I'm completely astounded," Dr. Morita declared. "He has a better grasp than some of my top honor students at the university."

"Quantum mechanics. Well I'll be damned," Bulma muttered. She'd known that Vegeta was smart, but she had no idea that he understood anything relating to physics, much less anything that would boggle the minds of two of the smartest people she knew.

Dr. Morita chuckled. "I asked him what he does at Capsule Corp, and he mentioned helping you test some gravity simulation equipment, then gave a detailed summary on the mechanical engineering aspect of it as far as some moderations he'd thought of that he'd like to make. I must confess, I'm very curious to find out what else he knows."

"You and me, both," Bulma agreed, looking over to the hors d'oeuvres table. Her mate had a plate full of food and was currently engaged in a conversation with a young woman wearing a too small strapless red dress whom she recognized as an incurable chatterbox. He looked bored and a little irritated by his predicament, and Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "Uh oh. It looks as though Vegeta's been accosted by the lovely Ms. Junko Inoue."

The two men laughed at the look of desperation the prince shot their way. They too had experienced what he was going through; the girl was pleasant in appearance but sorely lacking in intelligence. "I think you'd best rescue the poor lad before she fries his brain," Dr. Ueda suggested.

"I'll do that," Bulma agreed, shooting them a wink as she headed Vegeta's way. "I'll have to catch up with you again soon."

She could hear the girl's vacuous chattering as she approached. "And I was like, 'oh my gosh, no way!' Can you believe anyone would actually do that?" She giggled stupidly.

"Nope." Vegeta popped a bacon-wrapped water chestnut into his mouth and dropped the toothpick on his plate. "Hmm, not bad," he murmured. He'd have to mention these in front of Bulma's mother; if she got merely the notion that he might have thought they were good, she'd make him a whole platter of them. A tiny smile crept at the corner of his mouth. Sweet.

"I know! And even if I did, as if I'd tell everyone about it, duh!" Junko giggled some more.

Bulma couldn't help but be amused. She knew even her own mother could be a little flighty at times, but this girl was just plain dumb. There was no other way to describe it. The only things she had going for her were her looks and an incredible body, neither of which seemed to be affecting her victim in the slightest. "Oh, there you are, Vegeta!" She walked over to him and took hold of his arm. "Hello there, Junko. I see you and Vegeta are having a nice conversation, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal him from you now. Bye!"

The girl waved cheerfully. "It was nice talking to you, Vegeta. Bye!"

"By the gods, Woman, what took you so long? I was about to either do her a favor and blast her, or kill myself to escape her," Vegeta complained under his breath.

Bulma giggled. "I'm sorry, I hadn't realized that she'd ambushed you or I would have stepped in sooner." She ran her hand over his shoulder soothingly. "I don't need some pretty girl trying to sink her hooks into my man."

Vegeta snorted. "Prettiness is relative, Woman," he informed her. "I would rather have an ugly female who had brains than an imbecilic female with beauty."

"Oh, okay!" Bulma responded in an air-head voice. "That's totally cool!"

Vegeta shook his head. "Don't even attempt it, Bulma. It doesn't suit you. I suppose you will just have to settle for both."

Bulma blushed. "Thanks, Honey," she murmured. Although he'd never told her in as many words that he thought she was pretty, it wasn't the first time he had indirectly complimented her, she realized, recalling the time he'd mentioned never expecting 'such a mind and the woman' when she'd shown him her plans for the regeneration tank.

"Hn." Vegeta said nothing, but allowed his infatuated mate to take his arm again.

Smiling fondly at him, Bulma leaned over to whisper in his ear. "There's just one more person who I have to talk to, then what do you say we ditch this party and have a party of our own?"

A slow smirk spread over Vegeta's face. "Sounds good to me," he agreed. "The sooner the better."

***

Bulma sat down beside Vegeta at the kitchen table with her sandwich and picked up the stack of mail she'd received. Sorting through it, she selected the most promising looking envelope and opened it. "Oh wow! Mom, my friend Kazue is getting married," she exclaimed, looking up from the thick cream colored card in her hand. "You remember Kazue, don't you?"

"Really?" Mrs. Briefs clasped her hands. "She's such a sweet girl, and the young man she's dating is a lovely boy. I'm sure they'll be happy together, and make such beautiful babies, too!"

"Mom..." Bulma groaned. It seemed that love and babies were all her mother thought and talked about.

Mrs. Briefs giggled, knowing what was going through her daughter's mind. "Think about it, Dear. You've got one of the two done already. I know! Why don't you and-"

Bulma interrupted her mother before the rest of the words could come out. It wasn't the first time her mother had dropped not so subtle hints, but it was the worst time she could have chosen to do so. "Mother! For Kami's sake!" Absolutely mortified, she fled from the kitchen, not wanting to see Vegeta's reaction to her mother's behavior.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Briefs murmured unhappily. That hadn't gone well. "I hadn't meant to upset her."

"What's her problem?" Vegeta grabbed Bulma's abandoned lunch and dug in.

"I was just saying..." Mrs. Briefs suddenly realized what had made Bulma so upset- her boyfriend probably had no intention of getting married, and she was embarrassed by it being brought up in front of him. "I know that Bulma has always wanted to be a wife and mother," she mused. "Maybe she was a little jealous of her friend's wedding."

Vegeta swallowed and frowned at the older woman's words. He had mated Bulma and given her offspring. She seemed content and often assured him of her affections for him. What more could she desire? "What does this wedding of which you speak entail?" He thought he knew but wasn't quite certain.

Mrs. Briefs smiled. Vegeta was such a dear young man. Maybe he would marry Bulma if he knew it meant so much to her! "Well, when two people decide they want to be together forever, they have a public ceremony where they pledge their lives to each other," she explained. "That makes them legally married, like Shatsu and I are." She sighed, evidently recalling her own wedding. "The bride wears a lovely dress, and there are flowers and gifts and dancing and dinner as the couple's friends and family celebrate together."

Vegeta's frown deepened. "That sounds like a ridiculous waste of time," he grumbled. "I suppose the woman will attempt to coerce me into escorting her, as she did for that equally ridiculous party we attended." He took another bite of Bulma's turkey on rye.

"I'm sure she'll ask you, Dear," Mrs. Briefs responded slowly, trying to hide her disappointment. It appeared that Vegeta wasn't interested in legalizing his relationship with her daughter after all. "The people who are invited to go are usually husband and wife or boyfriend and girlfriend. It's traditional to go with someone you love."

~Just what is this woman insinuating?~ Bulma was his mate, not his girlfriend- and certainly not a girl, what a ridiculous notion- or wife, or anything else. He thought he had made it clear that he had no intention of taking any other females to his bed, and expected that she too would mate with no male other than him. It was the way of Saiyan law, and once a male and female became mated, it could not be undone. He had made her his mate, his princess, with that full knowledge. Why wasn't that enough? It suddenly occurred to him why Bulma had fled from the room. Did she wish to be joined to him according to human law? Saiyan law was enough for him. It must not be for her. He found himself becoming offended by the woman's lack of faith in him. Perhaps that was why she constantly reminded him of her affections for him, because she did not believe that he was serious about having only her for his mate. "Hmph." He pushed the empty plate away and got up from the table.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned upon hearing Mrs. Briefs' tiny voice. He hadn't responded, and she hadn't known what to think of his silence. "Do not concern yourself, Woman," he told her in a low voice. "I will deal with this myself." He left the kitchen without another word from either of them.

His woman's ki was in their bedroom, so Vegeta headed that way. His thoughts still puzzled him. Why was she so unhappy? Why had she not approached him with the idea of this human marriage ceremony if it meant so much to her? How was he to have known that it did? He frowned. Kakarrot had married his harpy mate under human law, and look how that had turned out. How anyone could tolerate being eternally joined to- and claim to have deep affection for- such an irritable, insufferable female was beyond his comprehension, but, after all, Kakarrot was a complete imbecile. Still, it was beyoond Vegeta's comprehension how the idiot simply didn't notice.

His son's cries interrupted him as he passed by the nursery door. Vegeta contemplated avoiding both situations entirely and allowing the boy's mother to care for the child, but opened the door and stepped inside. He peered down into the crib; his son's face had turned red from crying and his tightly balled fists shook as if in outrage. His cries became louder when his father entered his line of vision. Vegeta knew what that meant- pick the child up, or else hear it from both him and his mother for the rest of the day.

/All right, Boy, all right./ Vegeta leaned down and picked the crying baby up. /Enough of the crying./

The baby let out one final whimper and, before Vegeta had a chance to say anything else, rested his head upon his father's shoulder, his tiny hands fisting the fabric of his shirt in what could almost be called a veritable death grip.

Vegeta's surprise greatened when the boy let out a loud, contented sigh, wriggled a little, and closed his eyes again. "What do you want, Child?" he murmured. The seemed that the boy had every intention of going back to sleep, but Vegeta knew from experience that if he returned his son to his crib, the boy would start screaming this time.

"He just wants to be loved," a soft voice behind him answered. "You, out of everyone in this house, have proven to be the best one at providing that."

~Damn her! How does she always do that?~ "Nonsense, Woman. Infants do not require-"

Bulma would have none of it. "Don't give me that, Vegeta," she interrupted without even waiting to hear whatever it was that babies did and did not need. "He quiets almost immediately when you pick him up, even though it sometimes takes me twenty minutes of walking with him and bouncing him to get him to stop crying. He loves you. I can't explain it any other way."

"What was all of that about?" Vegeta asked a little testily, abruptly changing the subject.

"I... What was what all about?" Bulma came a few more steps into the nursery.

"Don't give me that, Bulma," Vegeta repeated her earlier rebuttal. "You know very well that I am referring to your behavior in the kitchen."

"I..." Bulma found herself at a loss for words. She knew he didn't value the same customs and traditions that she did. How could she explain to him how important it was to her, and had always been to her, to have the emotional security of marriage to the man she loved, without making him angry? How could she explain to him that it looked bad to the many traditionalists of the public eye for someone of her social stature to be unmarried with a child?

Fortunately- or perhaps unfortunately- for her, Vegeta grew impatient at her procrastination and decided to tell her what was on his mind. "I took you for my mate, Bulma. You were pleased by that, and pleased when you bore this boy. I told you that you belong to me and no one else, and that I will protect you and the boy always. Have I not done those things? Or do you believe that I was not truthful when I spoke the words to you?" This he said in a calm, low voice, still standing facing the crib and not having looked at her.

Bulma bit at her lip. Most likely her mother had explained the concept of marriage to him. She knew that Vegeta was no fool, and that her own reaction to what it was obvious that her mother was about to suggest had offended him. Even if he had not spoken a single word to her, she could see it in his very posture, in the way that his shoulders were especially squared and his chin was a little higher than he typically carried himself. The problem was, was he offended because he thought that she was demeaning values which were of great importance to him, or was it possible that he would actually have not been opposed to the idea of marriage to her and she had immediately dismissed it as something he would never do for her? She had never discussed it with him, as he had openly scoffed at Goku and Chi-Chi's marriage as well as some of the other common cultural aspects of the planet. In truth, she had been afraid to approach the subject with him. However, based on the specific nature of the things he had just said, she determined that the cause of his offense had been the former rather than the latter, and felt a twinge of regret in her heart as she did so. "Vegeta, of course not. You broke a lot of traditions that I know are important to you when you and I became mates. I never thought you weren't being truthful with me." She paused but received no response. "Vegeta, please look at me."

He stood firm, not turning around.

Bulma took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm as she did so. "The things that are important to you are important to me too," she told him softly. "If they weren't, our son would have a much different name."

Vegeta did turn to her then, his dark gaze piercing into hers. He hadn't considered that. He sighed but said nothing and merely gave her the tiniest of nods.

Relieved, Bulma drew near and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Vegeta," she whispered before leaving the room.

***

Things were going just as she'd planned. Her parents had gone out for the evening, taking Anya, Geta and little Vegeta with them. Her baby was asleep. A bottle of wine sat perfectly chilled on the kitchen counter. She just needed one more thing.

Right on cue, the object of her thoughts came through the kitchen door. "What is it, Woman? I could be training." Vegeta paused when she held up the wine. She'd remembered that he'd liked the wine he'd had at the party she'd dragged him to. Perhaps it hadn't been a complete waste of time.

"We're alone right now, Vegeta. How about some wine?" Bulma purred, pleased when his eyebrow rose and a slow smirk slid over his face. "I started a fire. Maybe you could go add some more wood while I pour us some?"

Vegeta eyed the woman, who obviously was planning something. He hoped it was the same thing he had in mind. It appeared that perhaps this evening too might prove not be a total waste of time. "Don't keep me waiting long, Woman," he responded in a husky tone. He gave her a look that never failed to turn her knees to jelly and left the kitchen.

Bulma hurriedly poured the wine and took a tray of finger foods she'd prepared earlier out of the refrigerator. This was going wonderfully. Soon there would be no doubt in his mind how devoted she was to him and how very much in love with him she truly was.

Vegeta was squatting beside the fire, nudging at the newly added wood with a poker, when she entered the den. She set the small tray on the coffee table and took the glasses of wine, then handed one to him and knelt down on the floor beside him.