Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 14

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

AN: I don't really have much to say except that this was another chapter that wasn't easy to write. But everyone hang in there. It can't be so tough a road forever, can it?

Thanks to everyone who has left a review. They really do mean a lot. :)

Lastly, thanks to my husband, who continues to diligently read this story for me. All my love, sweetie.

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 Fourteen

"So c'mon, Vegeta. What do you say? Will you spar today or not?"

Vegeta sighed and set down his coffee mug. "I don't know, Kakarrot," he responded hesitantly.

"What were you planning to do today?" Goku persisted. "Are you going to be training?"

"No."

"Then c'mon, let's spar. What else is there to do in the middle of winter?"

Vegeta eyed Bulma, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. She'd pointedly ignored him when he'd greeted her good morning, although her mother and Goku had both received cheerful responses to their greetings. "I thought I'd mind my son today," he mused.

There was no response whatsoever from the blue-haired woman stirring her coffee.

"Oh, don't worry about little VJ at all," Mrs. Briefs interjected. "I'm not going anywhere today, so I can watch him."

"But you had him all day yesterday," Vegeta pointed out. "Wouldn't you like a break?"

Mrs. Briefs pooh-poohed his question with a wave of her hand. "You've been helping Shatsu in the lab quite a bit lately, Dear," she responded. "You go right ahead and have your spar. You should get out of the house for a bit since it's such a beautiful day today."

Vegeta could tell that the older woman was not going to take no for an answer. "All right," he conceded. "Bulma, we will be at Kakarrot's house should you or Shatsu need my assistance further."

Silence.

Vegeta got up from his chair and handed his son to Bunny. "Let's go," he told Goku, slipping on his boots and coat. His voice remained neutral, but anyone who knew him well would be able to detect the frustration, disappointment and, yes, hurt in it. "See you later, ladies."

"Bye!" Goku yelled happily. He was looking forward to sparring.

"Bye Vegeta, Goku," Mrs. Briefs said with a smile.

"Bye, Goku. Don't be a stranger," Bulma responded before leaving the kitchen with her coffee.

The room was silent for a moment before Vegeta opened the door and blasted off into the cold outside.

"I don't know what else to say to either of them," Mrs. Briefs said sadly, her smile now a frown. "He tries so hard even to simply talk to her, but she'll have none of it." She reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. "Anyone can see how sorry he is that he hurt her, and that he loves her. I can't imagine how badly he must be hurting."

Goku drew in a deep breath. "I'll try talking to them," he offered. He searched out for Vegeta's ki, gave Mrs. Briefs a quick little wave and disappeared.

"Gah!" Vegeta stopped mid-flight when the younger Saiyan suddenly appeared beside him. "Have you any idea how annoying that is, Kakarrot?" he complained before continuing on. "No wonder your wife has destroyed so many kitchen implements on that rock you call your head."

"Sorry, Vegeta," Goku said apologetically, but he couldn't help but chuckle. Kitchen implements. Vegeta could be so funny sometimes.

Before long they reached Goku's house. "Hey, Vegeta?" Goku began as they touched down.

Vegeta sighed. That hadn't taken long. "Just ask, Kakarrot. But I don't know what to tell you. I don't know why I did what I did."

Goku nodded. Mrs. Briefs was right; Vegeta really was torn up over all of this. "Do you love Bulma?"

The prince standing beside him found himself completely off-guard. That hadn't been what he'd expected at all. "I..." He turned away.

"Vegeta, Bulma is my best friend. You really, really hurt her," Goku told him in a low voice. "I know you're sorry that you hurt her, but if you don't love her, that changes a lot of things." He crossed his arms. "Do you love Bulma?"

The older man drew in a deep breath before nodding.

Vegeta was still turned away but Goku didn't miss the nod he gave. "Okay," he said softly. "Please don't give up on her, then."

Vegeta turned to face him. It was evident that he was struggling to control his emotions. "I..." He stopped and simply nodded again, but it wasn't how he felt. He'd been trying for the better part of a week to get her to even talk to him, and her cold attitude was rapidly wearing at him. Even worse was the open affection she showed to her boyfriend. She made no attempt to be discreet about it, and he would swear that on a couple of occasions in particular she deliberately threw herself at the man to hurt his feelings.

By the gods, that's what it really was. He'd allowed the woman into his heart, and she was tearing it apart. Feelings he didn't know existed had risen to the surface. Not only was it extremely depressing but it was slowly killing him inside.

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe he didn't need to learn to deal with the pain. He needed to be rid of it.

Permanently.

"Let's do this before I change my mind," Vegeta muttered, taking to the air.

***

Goku found himself worried. Vegeta was obviously depressed, but it ran deeper than that. He was heartbroken. His heart wasn't in the spar at all. He hardly seemed to be on the offensive at all but was just blocking whatever attacks came his way. Maybe he should try a different approach- oh Kami, no.

No!

A feeling of cold dread rushed over Goku as he raced down to where Vegeta had plummeted to the ground. He wasn't moving, and Goku wasn't certain that the prince had even attempted to block his punch despite the fact that he'd successfully blocked that attack many times before. It was almost as if, well, if they'd been on the ground instead of in the air, he would have been just standing there. "Vegeta! Vegeta, are you all right?" he exclaimed.

Vegeta didn't respond.

"Oh, man," Goku groaned, feeling for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he found one, and picked the unconscious prince up.

***

"Chi-Chi, where are you?" Goku shouted as he nudged the front door open. "Chi-Chi! I need your help!"

"Coming! I'm coming!" Chi-Chi shouted back as she ran toward the front room. She'd been folding the laundry when she'd heard her husband's frantic voice and found herself worried. Rarely had she heard him sound like this. She blinked when she saw Vegeta slung over Goku's shoulder. "What on Earth happened?"

"I... I hit him hard, Chi," Goku confessed, walking to their bedroom and flipping back the blankets on the bed. He laid the unconscious prince onto the mattress and knelt beside the bed. "It was like his heart wasn't in it, because he didn't even try to block me, like... like wanted to get hurt." He looked up at his wife with distressed eyes. "Why would he do that?"

Chi-Chi didn't like Vegeta, even less so after what he'd done to her friend, but the confusion and concern in her husband's eyes prevented her from saying anything, nor did she chastise him for not removing his mud-covered boots or for laying his equally dirty sparring partner on her freshly washed sheets. She could see that Goku felt guilty for hurting Vegeta, and being the gentle-hearted man he was, he hadn't meant to or wanted to. "I couldn't claim to know, Goku," she murmured, shooing her husband aside to take a look for herself. She winced when she saw the injury. Vegeta's face was rapidly swelling, and one eye was completely swollen shut. She touched his jaw, confirming that it was broken, shattered, more accurately. It was amazing that Goku hadn't snapped Vegeta's neck, which in all likelihood would have killed him. "Please go get me a wet wash cloth and a towel to clean him up with."

Still wracked with guilt, Goku nodded and left the room without hesitation.

Chi-Chi sighed as she removed Vegeta's coat and boots. She'd gotten an angry rant from Bulma over the phone after he'd returned and a couple others since then. Vegeta had hung around Capsule Corp despite her not wanting anything to do with him. Mrs. Briefs had called asking her to keep an eye on Vegeta, stating that he hadn't even wanted to leave to spar that morning, intending to mind his son instead, until she'd assured him that he should go, that she would take the baby. Why would Vegeta behave that way?

Suddenly, it struck her. Could it be that Vegeta did care? Could he actually love Bulma?

She hadn't had the opportunity to observe the prince's attempts at interaction with Bulma, but it was obvious that he hadn't given up on talking to her, as Bulma had made some exasperated comment that he just wouldn't leave her alone, that he was too thick to get the point. Oh, but it all made sense now. Either Vegeta was trying to displace his hurt or get Bulma's attention by injuring himself, or he really had wanted Goku to kill him. She'd had no idea it had been that bad.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Goku's return. "Here, Chi." He handed her the requested linens and took a step back. "He's... he's not going to die, is he?"

It was then that Chi-Chi felt pity not only for her husband but also for the prince. It did seem that he could be looking for a way to die that wasn't at first glance cowardly or suicidal. But why put that on her Goku? The man was seriously troubled, no doubt about that. "No, Goku. He won't die. But he's-"

"Really messed up," Goku blurted. "I almost... Chi, if I hadn't pulled my punch at the last moment, I bet I would have killed him."

Chi-Chi stopped wiping the blood from Vegeta's face long enough to reach over and touch Goku consolingly. "He's breathing and he's not convulsing. We'll take him over to Capsule Corp and put him in that tank Bulma built. Okay?"

Goku had the bottom of his gi in his hands and was twisting it anxiously. "Thanks for helping," he murmured. "I know you don't think Vegeta's a very nice person."

Chi-Chi rose and wiped her hands clean. "That may be so, but I still would never just stand here and do nothing, especially since you consider him to be your friend for some reason only Kami knows."

Goku gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "He's not as bad as he wants people to think," he insisted. "He's a good person deep down, but all his life everybody's always hurt him." Goku paused, then drew back to look at his fallen friend. "I know he's depressed, but do you think he did it because he's hurting so badly about Bulma?"

Chi-Chi nodded slowly. "The thought had crossed my mind, yes. But as I said before, I can't claim to know what his motives are." She looked over at Vegeta. "Let's get him over to Capsule Corp. There's nothing more we can do for him here."

Goku nodded and carefully scooped the prince up again. "Hold onto me."

Chi-Chi did so and waited. When they didn't go anywhere, she looked up to Goku. "Why are you waiting?"

"I can't find anybody's ki at home," Goku told her worriedly. "I'm going to try to find Bulma or her dad."

***

"Bulma?"

Bulma frowned. Something just wasn't right. The niggling feeling in the back of her mind bothered her.

"Bulma!" Dr. Briefs had noted her acting distracted at times lately, but he hadn't seen her this spaced out since the day the GR had exploded. He reached out and took her arm.

"Huh?" Bulma jumped in surprise. "What is it, Daddy?"

"I was trying to ask you the same thing," Dr. Briefs informed her. "You've been staring off into space the entire progress report."

"Sorry," Bulma apologized sheepishly. Everyone at the large conference table was looking at her, and it was embarrassing. "I don't know what happened. A feeling in the back of my mind, poking at me as if something's wrong..." She paused. This wasn't the first time she'd felt this. Her brows furrowed as she tried to place the feeling. Oh. Oh! Realization showed in her face. "Vegeta?" she muttered incredulously.

Before another word could be spoken, Goku appeared in the room, causing its occupants to cry out in startlement. "Bulma, thank goodness I found you!" he exclaimed. "I need your help right away!"

Chi-Chi was holding onto him, and in his arms...

Bulma just sat there, dumbfounded.

Dr. Briefs leapt up from his seat. "Good Kami, what happened to him?" he asked, rushing over to them. "Meeting adjourned, everyone. We'll reschedule this."

"We were sparring, and he didn't react, and I hurt him," Goku babbled, the stress of what he'd done well and truly hitting him.

"Wait, slow down, Goku," Dr. Briefs instructed, herding him and Chi-Chi to the door. "Let's get to the medical lab. Bulma, come with us."

Bulma got up and followed her father blindly. Vegeta had been injured, and she'd felt it, just like she'd known something was wrong right before the GR exploded. She'd had a similar weird experience shortly before Vegeta had come back and her father had mentioned blood in the GR. Could something serious have happened while he was in space?

"Put him down here," Dr. Briefs told Goku, interrupting his daughter's thoughts. "Let's take a look."

"I cleaned him up as best as I could, but his face, it's just, well, crushed," Chi-Chi murmured. "Goku said they were sparring and Vegeta didn't bother to even try to block his attack."

"What kind of attack was it?" Dr. Briefs was doing a remarkable job of keeping his voice level, given the extent of his patient's injuries.

"An uppercut. He always blocks uppercuts," Goku mumbled. "I... I could have..."

"Shh, he'll be all right, Goku," Chi-Chi told him consolingly. "We'll put him in the healing tank," she reminded him.

"If I can manage to get the mask to stay on his face," Dr. Briefs mused to himself. It was amazing that even a full-force uppercut had done this much damage. He'd personally witnessed both Goku and Vegeta withstand much worse. He'd have to question Vegeta once he was healed.

"Oh, Kami."

The three attending to Vegeta turned around. Bulma was looking over her father's shoulder, staring at Vegeta's face. Her voice hadn't sounded horrified, scared, anxious, or anything like that, just devoid of emotion.

"Bulma, get me the medical tape, please," Dr. Briefs requested, "then prep the tank."

Bulma nodded mutely. She had the notion that Vegeta might have done this as a silent way of pleading for her attention and couldn't help but feel guilty. ~All he wanted was to talk to me. But how could he do this to poor Goku?~ her mind raged, immediately switching tracks and pushing away any guilt she might have been feeling. ~Didn't he care about how upset and guilty Goku would feel?~ Any concern she might have felt for Vegeta's plight was shelved in favor of her friend's sensitivities. ~I should help fix the jerk up just so I can give him a piece of my mind!~ "Here." She tossed the tape onto the bed next to Vegeta.

Chi-Chi turned around to look at her friend. "Bulma, I know you're hurting and Vegeta was never what you'd call a friend of mine, but even I have to say that that was quite cold of you," she noted sternly. "Don't you care in the slightest?"

"Of course I do," Bulma responded smoothly. "Goku's my friend, and he doesn't need something like this on his conscience."

The room was silent for a moment.

"I don't even know who you are anymore, Bulma," Goku murmured sadly. "You wouldn't let Vegeta try to explain to you or even say he was sorry, and I know he is. I could see the hurt in his eyes, no matter how much he tries to hide it. Now you don't care that if I hadn't realized he'd dropped his ki and hadn't pulled my punch, my hand would have gone right through his head. I just can't believe that you can be so mean and heartless to anybody, no matter what they did to you. I mean, you forgave Yamcha every time you guys fought. I don't understand how you can just totally hate Vegeta now, after all you've been through together." He frowned sadly. "I really hope that I never make you mad at me, because I don't want to lose my best friend. That's what you are, Bulma. My best friend. But you need to grow up. I know I do goofy things sometimes, so that's a lot, coming from me. If you can't be an adult, just stay out of the way, so I can help my friend." With that, he turned his back on the stunned scientist. "Let's get him into the tank."

To say Bulma was stunned was an understatement. She couldn't remember Goku ever having said anything like that to her- or anyone else for that matter- before, or that deeply heartfelt of a statement, either. If she thought that Vegeta had hurt him by what he'd done, she'd be right, but the hurt indignation in the younger Saiyan's eyes was indicative that her behavior hurt Goku even more deeply. Goku claimed to have interpreted Vegeta's hurt and understood why he'd done what he had, even if he didn't like it. He understood how she felt hurt too, but not how she could be so mean about it, how she couldn't care. He'd said she needed to grow up. He didn't know her anymore.

Shame rushed over her. He was right. She was being cold and heartless. She was acting like a spoiled brat. How had she become reduced to this?

"I'm sorry, Goku," she whispered simply, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't tell me that," he rebuffed her, turning back to help Dr. Briefs.

Bulma stepped back and watched as her father taped the breathing mask onto Vegeta's face and they placed him into the regeneration tank. She didn't know what to think or how to feel. Should she feel badly for the man who'd caused her so much hurt? How could they expect her to just do an about-face emotionally and act as though everything was all right between them? She sighed; she had a lot of thinking to do.

***

Vegeta's eyes slowly opened, his vision obscured by the familiar blue liquid he floated in. Upon realizing where he was, he slowly reached up to touch his face.

It felt fine.

He sighed behind the breathing mask. Kakarrot would be upset. Bulma would be even more upset. Hell, she'd be angry at him. Why couldn't they have just let him die? There was nothing else for him.

~Shut the hell up, Vegeta,~ he mentally growled to himself. He'd be better off determining how to deal with Bulma than feeling sorry for himself over a failed attempt to... to...

First things first. He needed to get out of the tank. Bulma really would kill him if he broke it. No one was around, and he couldn't get out by himself. Why hadn't he mentioned the idea he'd had for an internal release to her? He leaned against the glass. This was stupid.

To his surprise, Bulma entered the lab and wordlessly began draining the tank. She waited impatiently until it was empty and then released the door, throwing a towel at him once it opened. "Get out." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

Well. He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected her to say, but that hadn't been it. "Bulma, I-"

"You shut up," Bulma interrupted. "Do you have any idea what you put Goku through, or are you too selfish to care about how he feels either?" she snapped. "He's so upset that he refused to go home until he can personally see that you're all right. I had to practically hogtie him to keep him out of here."

Vegeta stepped out of the tank and began to dry himself off. His dark eyes watched her, but he didn't say anything in his own defense.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, hmm?" she demanded.

"At least you're talking to me," Vegeta pointed out.

Bulma gaped at him. "You really are a selfish bastard!" she screamed. "Don't you care about anyone but yourself?"

"That's where you're wrong, Bulma. I don't care about myself. Isn't that much obvious?" Vegeta said bluntly. "I will speak to Kakarrot. But you are correct in that it was wrong of me to place this upon him." He slung the towel over one shoulder and dropped the tank's wires and breathing mask inside the tank. "I just... I didn't know what else to do, and it seems that I have simply made myself out to be a spineless coward."

"What else to do?" Bulma echoed sarcastically. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know exactly what it means, Bulma," Vegeta responded quietly. "Thank you for opening the tank." He left the medical lab before she could comment further and headed toward the den, where the heaviest concentration of ki currently was in the house.

Before he even got through the door, Goku leapt up from the couch to meet him. "Vegeta! You're okay!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Vegeta nodded awkwardly. "Look, Kakarrot. I..." He paused. "I'd like to speak to Kakarrot privately," he informed the room's remaining occupants.

Chi-Chi got to her feet. "I think we deserve to know why you would do what you did," she demanded. "Are you so desperate for attention that you would use my Goku to hurt you? What if he'd killed you? He'd have to live with the guilt of that, you know."

Vegeta let out a long sigh. He didn't want to have this discussion in front of everyone. "Yes, he would, and for that sole fact I must offer my apologies."

"Pops," Anya whispered as he turned to leave. His phrasing was clear- he wasn't sorry in the least that Goku had nearly killed him, just that the younger man felt guilt over it.

Chi-Chi sat back down slowly. She hadn't missed Vegeta's meaning, either, or the tortured look in his eyes he'd been trying to hide. "Oh," she murmured. "That's..."

"Very sad," Mrs. Briefs finished, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "He's been trying so hard to make things better, the poor dear. Surely he couldn't have given up so quickly."

"Shh!" Geta held a finger up in front of his lips. "Mother's coming."

The room was quiet when Bulma returned. "Sorry, I had to clean up a certain someone's mess," she bit out irritably.

"You should know that he came by and apologized to Dad," Gohan informed her. He'd come over as soon as he'd located his parents, and had been glad to see that Vegeta had been all right. Despite everything that Vegeta had done, Gohan knew from personal experience that the prince did indeed care, that he did have emotions buried beneath his icy exterior. He'd been shocked to see the man with that exterior façade missing. It just hadn't seemed right. It hadn't been normal.

Bulma shrugged. "He's just sorry he got yelled at is all."

Goku scowled at her. "You yelled at him, Bulma? Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Bulma shot back. "He used you to get attention, Goku. He even went so far as to say 'at least you're talking to me.' What a jerk."

"But, can't you see, Bulma? What Vegeta did wasn't like him at all. All he wanted was to talk to you," Goku insisted. "Couldn't you have at least talked to him and let him say he was sorry? Because everyone but you can tell that he is."

"It didn't have to come to this, Bulma," Dr. Briefs agreed. "I think that this was similar to a cry for help from the boy, only he simply wanted a moment of your time."

Bulma pursed her lips. She didn't appreciate them placing blame on her. This was all Vegeta's doing. "So that justifies what he did and makes everything peachy now?"

"No. But I agree with your father in that this was definitely a cry for help." Chi-Chi surprised her by speaking up in Vegeta's defense. "I know even more about living with Saiyans than you do," she continued before Bulma could interrupt, "and doing something that would be seen so dishonorable as trying to take one's own life isn't typical behavior for a man as focused on honor and pride as Vegeta is. We've all seen how that man looked at you, even before he left. Feelings like that don't change overnight. You at least owe him that much."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Bulma exclaimed. "Don't any of you care what he did to me, or to Goku?"

Geta rose to his feet. "We all care, Mother. That's why we're here."

"What is this, a friggin' intervention?" Bulma retorted.

"Not at all, Pumpkin. No one is forcing you to be here," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "We just hope that you'll think about everything that's happened with an honest, objective eye. Put yourself in Vegeta's shoes starting the day he left. Why would he go the way he did? You know the man better than any of us. I hardly think an intervention is necessary."

Bulma stared at her father. "I'm going out," she said simply.

Anya winced as the front door slammed. "Great. Now what?"

"Let's just give her some time to think about it," Mrs. Briefs suggested. "Maybe it'll help her see past feeling hurt."

"We can only hope, Bunny." Dr. Briefs squeezed his wife's hand gently.

"Well, it's getting late," Chi-Chi noted. "We should probably be heading home."

Goku nodded in agreement. "As long as he's okay."

***

"Can you believe it? What a jerk." Bulma took a sip of her drink.

"You're here with me now. Just enjoy the evening and don't worry about that loser, Babe."

"What would I do without you, Hiroshi?" Bulma sighed with a smile.

"Let's hope you never have to find out." Hiroshi leaned over to kiss her cheek before going back to his meal.

Bulma took another bite of her dessert. "Oh, by the way, I think I'll be stuck at work late Friday, so I'll have to cancel dinner. Sorry." She gave her dining companion an apologetic look.

"That's all right, Bulma. We'll do it again another night." Hiroshi patted her hand sympathetically.

She nodded. "Thanks. I've got to get home soon because I've got a meeting tomorrow which I'm not completely prepared for yet."

There were a couple of things on Hiroshi's agenda. First off, he didn't actually care whether or not Bulma was right for him or if being with him made her happy. He was only interested in dating her for his own personal gain. Once he got what he wanted, he intended to end it with her. It had to be in a way that no one would suspect his motives. Eastern Country was one option; it wouldn't be his fault if he was 'reassigned' there, would it? Then once he got there, he'd clean up with his company's 'new' design before she could get a patent. No one had to know he'd stolen the idea from Bulma. He just had to listen to her talk and be as involved with the goings-on at Capsule Corp as possible. Bribing that disgruntled lab worker he'd noticed during one of his visits to Bulma might be a viable option.

Secondly, the arrival of her freak ex threw a monkey wrench into his plans. While the pun was amusing, the man's meddling was not. It was more than obvious that the man was tortured by not only what he had done to Bulma, but also by her blatant lack of willingness to even discuss the situation with him. She couldn't look past her anger to see the hurt and unrequited love in his eyes every time she snubbed him. She wanted nothing to do with the man. While that in itself was good for Hiroshi, Vegeta made things difficult for him because he had not shown any indication of giving up trying to apologize and make things right with Bulma. He was always there, constantly trying to be involved through their freak son. Even worse, the monkey still had the Briefs' approval, despite what he had done, while they made no effort to hide the fact that they didn't like him. On the upside, their dislike of him drove their hurt daughter even deeper into his arms.

If he played his cards right, he could make this work. "No problem. We'll head back soon. Meanwhile..." Hiroshi took her hand and stood her up. "Come dance with me." He led her onto the dance floor.

***

Vegeta shifted his sleeping son in his arms and sat back a little more comfortably against the pillows cluttering his headboard. After a quick shower he'd felt an inexplicable urge to do what he'd originally planned that morning- mind his son. The boy was all he had left. He'd ruined things with Bulma, and she was even more angry at him now than she was before. He looked down at the child. Maybe the boy would serve as a means to draw her back to him. He sighed. It was wishful thinking and he knew it. But as he'd determined before, he would continue to cherish her, even if she didn't want it for the time being. Hopefully she'd talk to him. Hopefully, she'd change her mind. Hopefully, she'd forgive him someday.

Hopefully, she'd have him back for her mate.

The baby's hands tightened into tiny fists as he yawned and opened his eyes. As the child looked up at him with sleepy blue eyes, Vegeta felt the same warm feeling he'd had the first time this had happened return, only it was different this time. It was stronger, far more intense. He understood the difference now. The first time he'd been in awe of the tiny, helpless being he held, a being that he himself had been directly responsible for the creation of. A bond of possessive protectiveness had washed over him. Now, it was coupled with a deep affection for the boy. Vegeta knew what that affection meant now. He lifted his son up to his shoulder and ran his hand over the silky blue hair on his head. The baby yawned again and settled comfortably against him, making him chuckle in contentment. Yes, he would care for his son, the offspring he never thought would ever be born to him, with the utmost of attentiveness and affection. The boy deserved that and more from him. It was something that Vegeta himself had always yearned for from his own sire but had never received, for that was exactly what his father had been to him- his sire, the man who had merely caused his birth and little else. Vegeta wanted and needed to be more than that to his son.

Vegeta's stomach growled and he got up from the bed, careful not to jostle his son too much in the process. He had caught on rather quickly as to how fragile infants were and how to handle them, thanks to Bulma's coddling. His son was hardly as fragile as a human baby, but that didn't mean he had to be rough with the boy.

Gods, but he was weak- no. That wasn't right, he reminded himself. This boy and the feelings he evoked in him made him strong. If anyone even tried to harm the boy, and he'd show them precisely what weak was not!

He entered the kitchen, where Mrs. Briefs was washing that evening's dishes. "Hello, Dear," she greeted him warmly. "You slept through dinner. Are you hungry?"

Vegeta nodded. "Don't trouble yourself, Bunny. I'll get myself some leftovers."

Mrs. Briefs set down her sponge. "Well... Goku and Gohan were here, remember?"

Vegeta had been about to open the refrigerator and stopped mid-action. "Scratch that idea, I guess," he mused.

Mrs. Briefs laughed. "I thought Goku was even going to lick his plate until Chi-Chi knocked him behind the ears."

Vegeta allowed a smirk to spread over his lips, easily imagining the scene. "Well, I can at least feed my son," he mused. "Are there any bottles left?"

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "Yes, there are a few left," she acknowledged. "How about I order you some pizza?"

"That would be just fine, Bunny. Thank you," Vegeta agreed. Pizza was one of his favorite Earth foods.

"You're welcome," she told him. She reached for the phone. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Dear."

***

"What do you think of this one?"

"It's, uhm, nice, Honey."

Anya put her hands on her hips. She knew what was about to come from her husband's mouth. "Don't you dare say it."

"It's pretty foofoo, isn't it Sweetheart?" Geta asked, wincing when she scowled darkly at him.

"It's gorgeous and I love it," Anya insisted, closing the book they were looking at. End of discussion.

Vegeta wandered over, curious despite himself. "What are you two arguing about?"

Anya continued to scowl at Geta. "Cakes. He thinks some boring white plainly frosted thing with absolutely no decorations is perfect, and I wouldn't mind some flowers or fancy string work, or maybe even a nice shell border. But nooooo, it's only the bride's day, so a cake's nothing important, I guess."

"Bride's day?" Vegeta asked with confusion. Suddenly it struck him. By the gods, no! Bulma hadn't known this insolent fool long enough to make such a decision, had she? She wasn't really going to... to... He felt his stomach drop. He was too late. She was completely lost to him now.

"It's perfect. It's the one I want for our wedding," Anya persisted.

"An, can't we negotiate here?" Geta pleaded.

"Your wedding?"

The young couple looked over at Vegeta, who was staring at them blankly.

"I thought you told him."

"No, I thought you wanted to tell him yourself."

"You're his son, I figured you already had."

"I figured you were excited enough about it that you'd murder me if I spoiled your surprise."

"I'm not that bad! You make me sound like some evil, sadistic woman!"

Despite the relief that had washed over him upon finding out just whose wedding they were talking about, Vegeta couldn't help but feel uneasy over the current situation he found himself in the middle of. "Anya? Geta?"

"I never said you were, Dear-"

"Don't 'Dear' me, Geta."

"Damn, I forgot. It's almost that time of the month, isn't it?" Geta mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Anya demanded.

Geta's eyes grew wide as saucers. "I didn't mean it that way, Anya. I meant I should have been mindful of it and-"

"Oh, I get it. You should have remembered that I would turn into a cranky, nasty woman, right?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Bull-oney! Go away. I don't even want to look at you right now," Anya yelled, her lower lip wobbling. "I can't believe you would be so insensitive!"

"Anya, please." Geta took her arm to draw her close, but she jerked away from him.

"Don't touch me! Just leave me alone, you uncaring jerk!" She stormed out of the den.

Geta groaned in despair and sank down onto the couch. "Now what have I done?" he moaned. "I didn't mean it the way it came out." He dropped his head into his hands and rested his elbows against his knees.

"Don't ask me, Son. I know exactly what you mean," Vegeta told him in all seriousness. He sat down next to his son. "What does Anya mean, your wedding?"

Geta sat up straight to look at his father. "We decided to get married under Earth law, even though technically we already are by Gerdian law since they don't have ceremonies like we do," he explained. "Long story short, some of the employees saw me around and knew it wasn't you they saw, so Mother made up some story about how we got here. I think it was a rift in the time-space continuum or some other such nonsense. We thought it would be a good idea all things considered and I think Anya kind of wanted to anyway, then Gram got the notion in her head to invite everyone on the planet and have some huge shindig." He sighed. "It looks like I don't even get a say in anything without being accused of forcing my opinion, and if I just sit back and let them do their thing, I get accused of not being interested." He sighed again and rested his chin in one hand. "Now, Anya's totally mad at me, so who knows if it'll even happen at all."

Vegeta stared at his son. "Sounds like you're screwed."

Geta sat up straight again. "Father, I love Anya. How much better could I show her that than to want to do what I couldn't to begin with? I wasn't able to legally marry her here in the future, so I want to do it now. I want her to be happy," he said miserably. "Instead, I made her angry."

"Your mother behaves the same way when it's time for her menses," Vegeta commented thoughtfully. "It must be a female thing."

Geta nodded. "That's all I meant, that I should have remembered that I should be more sensitive of her needs when she's premenstrual. I just should have phrased it differently."

"Or not said it at all. As I said, trust me, I know what you mean," Vegeta reminded him.

Geta sighed still again. "I'll just have to wait for her to calm down, then... then agree on the foofoo girly cake."

Vegeta couldn't hide a wistful little smile. "Be glad, Son. I wish it was that easy for me." He got up from the couch and left the den.

***

Vegeta strolled into Capsule Corp's botanical garden. He had to admit that it was rather peaceful as well as beautiful. That meant it was perfectly suited for relaxation, something he rarely indulged in. Extending his ki again, he found the subject of his search perched upon a bench, deep in thought. "Hey."

Anya looked up at him and managed a little smile. "Hey, Pops." She scooted over on the bench to make some room.

Vegeta accepted her unspoken invitation and sat down beside her. "Are you all right?" he murmured. He'd given her some time to cool off before seeking her out. Hopefully she'd calmed down by now.

Her lips were pursed tightly together and her chin twitched slightly, as if she was trying not to cry. "Yeah, fine," she grumbled. "I just can't believe Geta would say something so sexist and insensitive," she complained.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. She knew his son better than that. "Anya, he wasn't trying to be sexist or insensitive," he assured her. "He was just being logical."

"Logical?" Anya asked skeptically.

"Yes, logical. He knows that your monthly menstruation is coming soon and that it affects your emotions. He was thinking aloud, reminding himself that he should have kept that in mind and been more sensitive to the fact, and was irritated that he'd annoyed you because he hadn't. Haven't you ever muttered something aloud to yourself as you were thinking about it?" Vegeta looked at her expectantly.

Anya frowned. "I see. So he should have remembered that I'd turn into the Wicked Witch of the West, right?"

Vegeta didn't understand the reference but grasped the implication. "No, that's not true either." He sighed. She wasn't buying it and he wasn't about to lie in an attempt to soothe her injured sensitivities. "All right, would you like to hear the ugly truth?" he asked bluntly.

Anya looked a little surprised by his question, then crossed her arms. "Okay, yeah. Shoot it to me straight, Pops."

"Fine." Vegeta sat back against the bench. "While males are logical creatures, females are emotional creatures. I've been in contact with enough females in my lifetime that I am quite well aware of how they function. Why do you think the subject of hormonal women is such a big joke? Because it's true, Anya," he told her matter of factly. "A lot of women get nasty, catty and become absolute bitches during their menses. But, as you personally pointed out to me," he continued before she could interject, "some women simply require a little quality time and pampering from their men. You are one of the latter women, Anya, and Geta is aware of that fact. He should have kept that in mind instead of forgetting that it is normal for you to need a little more understanding right around now."

Anya's eyebrow rose higher than he'd ever seen it. "Okay, just where did such a deep observation come from, Pops?"

"Well, personal experience coupled with..." He fidgeted a little uncomfortably as he finished answering.

"What did you say?" Anya asked, leaning in a little closer. Had she heard him correctly?

"I said Dr. Bill." He'd seen the bald headed, loud and outspoken therapist on the television during the afternoon hours.

A smile split across Anya's face. "Are you serious? You watch Dr. Bill?" she squealed in surprised delight.

"A couple of times," he admitted. "Hey, I was bored and had nothing better to do when it came on," he objected defensively when she openly began giggling.

"That's absolutely hilarious, Pops!" Anya exclaimed, continuing to laugh at her father-in-law's expense.

"Hardy har har," Vegeta responded irritably. He wasn't angry, though, just glad he could make her laugh. "Feeling any better yet?"

Anya sighed. "I suppose so. Thanks." She kissed him on the cheek and rested her head on his shoulder.

"You're welcome," he told her sincerely. "Try to see things from Geta's perspective. He honestly didn't intend you any offense, and he's sorry what he said came out the way it did. I'm sure he wouldn't have said it at all, given another chance." He took a turn letting out a sigh. "Trust me, I know exactly what he's going through."

Anya sat up to look at him. "Oh, Pops," she whispered. "I hadn't thought of that. I'm so sorry." Her eyes filled with tears.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. What happened between Bulma and me was solely my fault, and I'd give anything to be able to take back what I said." He managed the same smile she had when he'd first found her in the garden. "He's too much like his old man, I guess. Try not to be angry at him for too long. He really does feel badly. He even said something about wondering if you would still consent to marry him."

Anya did start crying then. "Pops, of course I still want to marry Geta," she told him. "I just got upset because he didn't like the same cake, that's all." She paused. "Oh, Kami. How asinine is that?"

He chuckled. "All right, then. Promise me you'll talk things over with him, okay?"

Anya sniffled. "I promise."

"Good girl." Vegeta got up from the bench. "Want to get out of here for a while?" He had found that sometimes simply leaving the premises for a while could be helpful.

Anya shrugged. "I don't know. It's really nice in here. Gerdia doesn't have such harsh winters as Earth does, and I miss its warmth. But you're right. We could both use a little entertainment. You know, loosen up a bit."

"Sure, I suppose that's fine," Vegeta conceded. "But what's there to do here?"

Anya looked up at him, a slow smile forming on her face. "I have an idea. It's kind of something I've wondered about but never had the guts to do."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. What in the world could she mean? He found himself quite curious. "Go on..."

***

Bulma entered the house, Hiroshi right behind her. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go by ourselves?" he asked.

"I need to get all the final details to the wedding planner by this afternoon," Bulma reminded him. "Oh, come on. It won't kill you to share me for one lunch, will it?"

Hiroshi managed to suppress a distasteful look. He wouldn't care if they were having lunch with a thousand people. He just didn't want it to be the two people she had in mind. "Fine, fine. But you owe me."

Bulma smiled and kissed his cheek. He was so cute when he joked around. "Thanks. Now where is everyone?" She entered the kitchen to find her son rummaging through the refrigerator.

Geta looked up as she approached. "Hey, Mother."

He looked tired. "Hey, Geta. How about you and Anya catch some lunch with us so we can finalize your wedding plans? Everything has to be set by three o'clock today." She paused upon seeing the look of discomfort on his face. "Geta, what's wrong?" Shouldn't he be happy about this?

Geta ran a hand through his hair. How to put this to his mother? "I, uhm, sort of screwed up with Anya, and she's very upset with me right now," he admitted soberly. "She won't even look at me, let alone talk to me about it."

"Oh, Honey, I'm sure she just needs a little time to cool off. She'll be all right, you'll see." Bulma paused, and her eyes widened slightly.

Her son had the same pained look in his eyes that his father did ever since he'd returned from space.

She felt her stomach twist into a knot when she came to the horrified realization that she'd been doing the same thing to Vegeta. He'd hurt her, yes, but he wasn't trying to ask for her forgiveness for what he'd done, only for the opportunity to talk to her about it, to apologize for hurting her. She'd been cold to him, turning away every attempt of communication from him.

Geta said nothing, but only looked at her with an expression that made guilt rush through her. She couldn't imagine what he must be thinking about her. She must be little more than a hypocrite in his eyes. Who was she to talk? "Geta, I..."

Geta sighed. There was no point in pointing out that she had obviously realized the correlation between his problems with Anya and his father's with her. "Where did you want to go?" he asked quietly, changing the subject to save her from further embarrassment.

"We were thinking about the Lebanon ," Bulma responded in kind. Her son was a good man who cared deeply for the mother of his son. Similarly, after her most recent revelation, she couldn't doubt that Vegeta regretted what he'd done. She thought he'd cared, at least for a while. Maybe he truly did.

"Oh. Anya's never had Lebanese food. It'll be a new culinary experience for her."

"Sounds good." Bulma's guilt intensified when her son's face twitched a little, a visible indication of his struggle to remain in control emotionally. "Let's go find her, okay?"

Geta's mouth twitched again. "She's... she's been blocking me, but Father's in the gardens," he told her. "He's been in and out a couple times, so I'm assuming she's there, too."

"All right." Bulma went over to him. "I'll talk to him, I promise. Okay?" she whispered.

A tiny look of hope flashed through his eyes briefly and he nodded. "Okay."

"Let's go. You must be hungry if you're raiding the fridge," Bulma told him, taking his arm gently.

Geta managed a little smile. "I was just looking for some juice," he told her. "I don't have much of an appetite right now."

Bulma supposed she deserved that, but before she could say anything Hiroshi spoke up. "Touching. Are you done yet? I'd like to get lunch sometime today."

Bulma turned and gave Hiroshi a withering look. "Keep your shirt on, okay? Grab your coat Geta, so we can go."

Geta nodded. "I'll be right back," he told her, leaving the kitchen.

Bulma waited for the door to shut before speaking. "For Kami's sake, Hiroshi. Could you possibly be any more insensitive today?" she complained sourly.

"You're overreacting, Bulma," Hiroshi responded defensively. "They'll both get over it."

"Ugh! You're impossible," Bulma complained.

"Whatever. I still say you're overreacting," Hiroshi insisted.

Bulma said nothing and crossed her arms as she waited. Momentarily the door opened and Geta came back in. "Gramps said he'd watch the kids while we're gone and asked us to bring him something," he reported as he slipped his coat on.

"Thanks, Sweetheart," Bulma responded. "Ready?"

He nodded and opened the door, stepping aside so they could go through. Wordlessly they trudged along the path which had been cleared of snow and headed toward the nearby botanical garden.

***

Vegeta and Anya were laughing insanely as the three approached, so amused by whatever had happened that neither immediately noticed their presences.

Geta sniffed, and an eyebrow rose. "It smells like..." His eyes widened at what he saw.

"Aww, dang it... I spillded my beer, Pops," Anya whimpered, her face falling. "Now whatta I do?" She giggled, her pout vanishing instantly.

"Don't you worry, there's more where that camed from." Vegeta patted her arm reassuringly. "I'll getcha one." He rose from the bench and promptly swayed on his feet. "Whooee, head rush!" he announced loudly, grabbing the arm of the bench. He shook his head to clear it.

Anya laughed as if that was the most hysterically funny thing she had ever witnessed. "Watch out!" she shrieked when he almost tripped over the cooler he'd brought in. "Don't squish the beer!"

He looked at her, frowning. "I'm not gonna do that. Uh-oh, only one left. Here, catch!" He underhanded her the beer, which landed only a few feet away. "Whoops."

They both stared at the beer for a moment, then broke out into peals of laughter.

Anya reached over and picked it up, then dusted it off. "I don't think I want this one anymore, Pops," she announced solemnly, her big green eyes looking up at him sadly.

Vegeta contemplated her statement. "Aww, c'mon, An. I'm losing my buzz fast, and there's no more beer left. I want to have fun while it lasts." A wicked grin slowly spread across his face. "Let's open it anyway!" he suggested covertly, as if it were a secret.

Anya stared at him, her face growing red before she nearly screamed with laughter. "Oh my Kami, that's styherical!" she shrieked.

Vegeta groaned, holding the sides of his head. "Oh, my ears!" he complained.

"Ooops, sorry," Anya apologized. "I forgetted. My bad!"

"It's okay," he assured her. Whatever else he meant to say was cut short when Anya grabbed his hand for a second, then shook up the beer at a violent rate and cracked open the top.

"Wheeee!" she sang, dancing around in circles and waving the spraying can of beer above her head.

Vegeta dodged away from the spray. "Damn, Girl. You're even more wasted than I thought." While his buzz hadn't been very strong, it had felt nice while it lasted. Anya, on the other hand, might weigh a mere third of what he did and therefore was far worse off than he was. He grinned, watching her have her fun. No wonder she'd always thought about doing this- it was fun. As long as she was having fun, why not do the same himself and pick on the prick? "You're a fun drunk, too. Isn't that nice, HiroshimaA broad grin spread across his face. "Anya, too bad you wasted that beer. We have guests," he announced.

Anya turned around and saw the others. "Heyyyy, peoples! Whassuuup!" She staggered over, giggling, and threw her arms around her gaping husband. "Me an' Pops got totally sloshed. You shoulda come with!"

Geta snapped out of his shocked surprise and caught her as her knees gave out and she began to slide down his body. "Damn it, Father! What the hell were you thinking?" He hauled his inebriated wife upright and held her steady against himself.

"Hey!" Anya objected, hitting his chest weakly with her fists. "It was my idea, bushter! He just got the beer." She frowned up at him. "And I'm ticked off at you, you big jerk!" She blinked at him, then giggled. "But you're still cute. Cute and kissable!" She threw her arms around his neck and, manipulating the ki she'd sapped from Vegeta, pulled Geta down to her level, kissing him soundly.

"Anya-" he objected, but she silenced him with another kiss. Slowly, his arms wrapped around her as he forgot all about his earlier indignance at his father in favor of enjoying the feeling of his wife's soft, warm lips against his.

Hiroshi was shocked. "What kind of loose, reckless behavior is being encouraged here? I told you, Baby, this... individual is a worthless loser."

"Hiroshi!" Bulma exclaimed, embarrassed by both the situation- which it appeared that Vegeta had either instigated or done nothing to prevent- and her boyfriend's rude reaction. "Really, are insults necessary? You know Anya was upset. They weren't causing any trouble, just having fun." ~Lame excuse if I ever heard one. Damn it Vegeta! Why am I defending you if you're going to act like a complete idiot? Why am I defending you at all?~

The light bulb in Vegeta's brain suddenly switched on, and he quickly used the situation to his advantage. "Hey, bro. I'm not as bad as I seem," he drawled, allowing his attention to be diverted back to the heavily necking couple beside him. He smiled saucily. "I'm just having some fun. And I think that looks fun," he commented, jerking a thumb his son and daughter-in-law's direction. He sidled up next to Bulma. "Hey, how about a little sugar, Honey?" he purred, tossing her a wink and a flirtatious smirk.

Bulma's cheeks went red. Her boyfriend was standing right there! But even more disconcerting was that Vegeta had never used pet names or shown open displays of affection before. And she was angry at him! "Vegeta, I, uhm..." She smiled weakly as he drew closer. Just the remembrance of his hands, those lips, his firm chest...

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Hiroshi demanded. "Hands off, Tarzan."

Now, this reference Vegeta was familiar with. While watching television one day, he'd come across a movie with this Tarzan character in it. He'd watched the rest of it, considering a program with a warrior who had his own battle cry to be worthy of his attention. "I dunno, Jane looks particularly appealing right now," Vegeta replied smugly. He snaked an arm around her waist. "What's the matter, you afraid she'll prefer her old worthless loser boyfriend over the new worthless loser one?" He grinned as Hiroshi's face reddened.

"Of course not, you uncouth, foul mouthed idiot," Hiroshi retorted.

"Then whatcha got to worry about?" Vegeta countered. "Hey... Baby, is it? You see, Baby, I only get one, so I'm gonna get the best out of it I can." He pulled her close, whispering in her ear. "Oh, and Bulma? By the way, I was hardly tipsy when you three walked up. Just enjoying the last of my buzz."

Her eyes widened. "Vegeta, I..." she murmured nervously.

"Oh yes, I'm sober, fully aware and in complete control of my actions," he informed her breathily. "Just want to have some fun, without anyone getting hurt, you know?" His lips brushed over Bulma's earlobe lightly, making her shiver and turn a lovely shade of bright pink.

"What kinds of perverted things are you saying to her, you pathetic lush?" Hiroshi demanded. "Remove your hands from my girlfriend immediately."

Vegeta shrugged his objections off. "I guess everyone looks like a winner at the starting line, huh?" He moved in to kiss her.

Bulma's eyes grew wide. On the one hand, she found his mysterious bad boy behavior deliciously attractive; on the other, the playful part of it was so unusual that she found it almost as unnerving as the fact that Hiroshi stood there making threats but did absolutely nothing to back them up. "Vegeta..." Her voice came out in a whisper. No! She was angry at him. She didn't want him to do this!

She let out a high-pitched noise of objection and struck his chest with her fists when his lips touched hers, but soon their familiar warmth soothed away any protest her mind had begun to gather. He began slowly, softly, and only when her eyes fluttered shut and he felt her relax and begin to respond did he intensify the kiss. The nagging thought in the back of her mind that she was kissing that jerk Vegeta in front of- uhm, what was his name again?- her boyfriend was lost as her fingers found their way to his hair and entwined themselves through it, pulling the two of them even closer together. He had never kissed her with such intensity, such passion, as he did at that moment. It was a mind-blowing sensation which rendered her brain completely defenseless.

Vegeta unconsciously let out a contented sigh as she took the initiative, cradling her in his arms securely, never wanting to let her go. :Bless you for this Kami,: his mind praised in gratitude. :If only she would just let me love her the way I should have that day.: His arms tightened around her.

Startled, Bulma's eyes shot open and she broke the kiss. :Vegeta?: she responded incredulously. :Did you just...:

:Bulma?: Vegeta seemed just as surprised. :How did you establish a mind link with me?: He had the mental equivalent of a blank stare. :Oh... I projected earlier, didn't I?:

She gave him a tiny nod. :Yes. Yes, you did.:

He almost panicked but simply relaxed, realizing that there was no point in denying what he wished she could understand in the first place. Even so, he couldn't prevent a tremor of fear of her rejection from rearing its ugly head. :Bulma, I...: he stammered, not knowing how to handle the emotions he was feeling. :Well, at least I am being completely honest with you this time. I'm sorry, Bulma.: He released her from his grasp, unable to meet her eyes. "For hurting you. I embarrassed you just now," he whispered, turning away from her.

"Vegeta, I..." she began, reaching out to him. His voice held so much pain and misery that it shocked her.

"I'm sorry," he repeated in a soft, sad voice. "I just can't handle it, Bulma." With that, he took to flight to leave the garden post-haste.

"What a coward," Hiroshi sneered. "First he won't say what he obviously thinks, refuses to do anything about it unless it will insult me, and now he runs away instead of facing up to his actions. What a spineless dog! I find myself wondering what you ever saw in him, Babe."

Bulma was torn; on one hand, Vegeta had been right; she had been embarrassed by what had just happened. It was not really because of the kiss itself, which she had in actuality immensely enjoyed, but she was mortified by the fact that she had enjoyed it despite her anger at him and had allowed it to happen at all, especially in front of her boyfriend.

On the other hand, she had to deal with the realization that she had actually missed and even subconsciously longed for at times Vegeta's touch, his kiss, the way he held her and murmured in her ear with that voice that always made her weak in the knees. But he'd hurt her terribly. Could she just forgive him and take him back with open arms because he had admitted he had made a mistake and said that he was sorry, had even confessed he had feelings for her, albeit indirectly, and because he was obviously so miserable over the entire situation? What would he learn? Did he truly mean it, or was the whole 'accidental' projection of his thoughts to her just a big setup? How would it look for her reputation, not to mention Capsule Corp's, if she terminated her relationship with one man, started a new one with another man, then suddenly and inexplicably was back with the first one? What about Hiroshi? His behavior had been far from stellar lately when he came over but, although she couldn't condone it, she understood the reason behind it. And what about Vegeta's behavior, for that matter? Despite his obvious efforts to be civil to Hiroshi, he had certainly never been the poster child of excellence as far as behavior on the whole. What if she let herself open up to him as he desired and he ended up hurting her again? She wouldn't be able to handle that. Her head was reeling with all of the thoughts racing wildly through it. But at least she knew of one thing she was sure about.

She spun around to face her antagonist. "Sometimes I wonder the same thing about you, Hiroshi!" she spat angrily. "How dare you speak that way of him, especially in front of his family? And for that matter, you have also insulted me, the woman you claim to care for. What can you say in your own defense about that, hmm?" She crossed her arms, scowling at him, her blue eyes flashing fire, daring him to contradict and outclass her accusations.

Hiroshi scowled right back at her. "I don't feel the need or the desire to tolerate this shameful behavior any further," he told her snidely, "and your behavior isn't helping either. If you would kiss your pathetic ex right in front of me, what else are you doing behind my back?"

Bulma went pale. "Hiroshi, I haven't done anything," she whispered, embarrassed and horrified by the insinuation. What had she just done? It was like cheating!

"No, obviously not," Hiroshi retorted snobbishly. "How about you do nothing else and take your ex to lunch too?"

"Hiroshi, wait!" Bulma called after him as he walked away. "Don't go like this!"

Hiroshi kept walking as she ran after him. "I'm going now, Bulma. But before I do, you should know that among the things that drew me to you are what I perceived to be loyalty and honesty. I see that I might have been wrong about that."

Bulma took hold of his arm. "I never meant for that to happen," she whispered, tears of shame in her eyes. "It was a mistake, and I'm sorry. Please believe me when I say I would never cheat on you," she pleaded.

He had her right where he wanted her, penitent and remorseful. "We'll see, Bulma. But I think it would be best if we didn't have lunch today. I'll see you around," he told her, a condescending tone to his voice that she was too upset to pick up on.

Bulma's shoulders drooped as he left the grounds. He was right. She prided herself on honesty and loyalty, and she'd kissed Vegeta right in front of him. How could she have done such a thing to her boyfriend, the man who had been so good to her through all her problems?

Geta watched the scene with disgust. The man his mother was dating was rude, manipulative, and condescending to her. Why couldn't she see that? He held in a sigh when Bulma bit at her lip in an attempt to keep calm. "Mother?" he ventured. "Why don't we just take Anya inside and I'll fix us some lunch, okay?" he suggested softly.

Bulma nodded and headed toward the house. She felt absolutely wretched, and going out right now was the last thing she wanted to do.

They entered the house through the kitchen, where Vegeta happened to be making sandwiches. "I'll go put Anya to bed," Geta spoke up before one of his parents could react. He carried his sleeping wife out of the kitchen.

The silence in the kitchen was brutal. "Would you like some?" Vegeta finally spoke up.

Bulma was about to decline his offer when the look in his eyes made her accept his offering. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome," Vegeta murmured in response. He nudged the plate of sandwiches closer to her.

She took one and let her eyes drop from his. He was looking at her with longing, regret, and what was unmistakably a tiny glimmer of hope. She'd promised Geta that she'd talk to him, but after what had just happened she couldn't bring herself to do it. "Thanks," she repeated, quickly leaving the kitchen.

Vegeta sighed deeply as the kitchen door shut. He didn't blame her for rushing out. The entire situation in the gardens had been awkward and embarrassing. He hadn't needed to do that. And what was more, now his son would be irritated at him too. He sank down at the table, thoroughly stressed and irritated at himself.

The door opened again. "Explain what just happened."

Vegeta turned to face his son like a man. "It was my fault," he admitted. "She asked me for the beer and I should have suggested an alternative way of blowing off stress."

"Anya asked you for the beer?" Geta asked in surprise. He'd hardly ever seen his wife drink anything other than juice or water, and perhaps the occasional soda.

"Yeah. I guess deliberate drunkenness was something she was oddly curious about but never did." He sighed again. "Listen, I know you're angry and rightfully so, but you should know that we talked and I think she'll be all right. She also indicated that she has every intention of going on with your wedding plans, and was saddened that you would think otherwise."

Geta's eyes closed momentarily as he let out a little sigh of relief. She still wanted to marry him, thank Kami. "I guess I should be mad at you, Father, but I'm more concerned with what exactly happened in there after we walked in."

Vegeta shook his head helplessly. What was he supposed to say? "I just wanted to. I needed to."

"You pretended to be drunk to kiss Mother?" Geta asked in order to clarify.

Vegeta nodded. "But I told her I was sober before I did it," he told his son. "Even though she resisted at first, she kissed me back. It felt so good, so right," he murmured. "But I screwed up, Geta. Not only did I embarrass her, but I slipped up and..." He paused and looked down at the floor.

"And what?" Geta prompted, fascinated by a blush that spread across his father's cheeks.

"I accidentally projected what I was thinking instead of keeping it private," Vegeta admitted.

"And?" Geta prompted further. "Father, I'm not trying to be nosy, but if you want my support with how you're acting toward Mother, I can't give it to you if you don't clue me in," he added when Vegeta wasn't readily forthcoming.

Vegeta's cheeks grew even darker. "I wished that she would just let me love her the way I should have."

Geta straightened up. She'd heard him say that. Wow. No wonder she reacted the way she had. "Ah. I see." He thought about it. "How did she respond? She looked surprised."

"She was. She didn't say much except to acknowledge that I did project to her." Vegeta still wasn't looking at his son. "I didn't know what to do and there was no point in denying what I'd just done, so I sort of panicked. After all, she hasn't been very accepting of me lately."

Geta was silent for a moment as he mulled his father's words over. His reaction was understandable. He wasn't used to expressing such sentiment and almost certainly had to be afraid of her openly rejecting him or accusing him of being deceptive and untruthful. "I take it she didn't talk to you, then."

Vegeta looked up at his son. "Was she supposed to?"

Geta pursed his lips. "She suddenly saw the similarity between Anya's anger and her own, and promised me that she'd talk to you. But I highly doubt she was expecting you to kiss her when we came into the garden."

Vegeta looked uneasy. "I'd be lying if I said I regretted kissing your mother, but I regret it happening the way it did," he said quietly. "I didn't want to embarrass her and that's exactly what I did. But at least I was truthful with her this time."

"I'll talk to her," Geta offered. "And before you object, I need to finalize the wedding plans anyway, and they do include you. It would be nice if all of this weirdness was over before then."

He might as well allow it; Geta was in this deep enough already. "I suppose," Vegeta relented. "When is the wedding, anyway?"

"In two weeks," Geta informed him. "Mother and Gram had to pull a ton of strings for that to happen."

Vegeta's brow creased. "Why did you wait for so long to make your plans?" he asked curiously.

"Because Anya wants you to give her away," Geta responded. "So we couldn't finalize any dates until you got back."

The pride Vegeta felt by Anya's request was ruined by guilt. "I'm sorry, Son. I really screwed a lot of things up."

Geta couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. This wasn't like what he was used to from his father at all and it weirded him out. "Then let's work at fixing things."

"You're right." Vegeta nodded. He had to start somewhere. Maybe Bulma really would talk to him after all. She hadn't seemed angry by what had happened, but mostly shocked. The anger had probably come later, after he'd so cowardly left the gardens. He could only hope that he hadn't ruined things completely. "By the way... tell Anya that I'd be honored to give her away at your marriage ceremony."

Geta smiled. "I'll do that. And by the way, thanks for helping me out today. It means a lot to me."

"Trust me, I can relate." Vegeta picked up his plate of sandwiches and left the kitchen.

***

"Mother?" Geta looked around as he entered the lab where his mother's ki had lead him.

"Over here, Geta." Bulma waved from one of her work benches.

He strolled over to see what she was doing. One of her ki beacons lay disassembled on the table, its delicate circuitry exposed. He laid a hand over one of hers. "Are you okay?"

Bulma sighed and laid down the tweezers she'd been holding. His hands were so like his father's. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Want to talk about it?"

There was no doubt what 'it' referred to. Bulma shrugged and looked back down at her work. "I don't know," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"I think you should know that I already confronted Father about the whole situation," Geta informed her. "Anya, the beer, everything."

She looked up at him. "Oh?"

"Anya actually asked him for the beer," he told her.

Bulma's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Are you serious?" Anya didn't strike her as the drinking type.

He nodded. "I guess she'd heard enough about how much fun drinking was, and just wanted to have a little fun." He shrugged. "I can't say I blame her, seeing as I upset her so badly. I just wished she had talked to me instead."

Bulma shifted uncomfortably. "Geta, look... I just need a little time to think about all of this."

"I know." He reached out to give her a hug. "Father said he just needed to."

Bulma looked up at him. "Needed to embarrass me, you mean?"

Geta frowned. "He didn't purposefully intend to embarrass you," he contradicted her gently. "Think of it this way. When Anya was resurrected, I needed to touch her, hold her, and kiss her. I didn't just want to, I needed to. I'm sure that Father felt the same way."

Bulma nodded but didn't reply.

"He also said he regretted embarrassing you, but not kissing you." Geta smiled crookedly at his mother's reaction. "Why so surprised? I know you are having a difficult time believing it, but Father cares for you very much. And after what I saw today, I find it very difficult if not impossible to believe that there's not even a tiny bit of you that doesn't still care about Father."

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms. "He told you that?"

Geta held up his hands. "Hey, look. I'm tired of being the guy in the middle. This is between you and Father, and you need to talk to him about it. He's not going to beg you for forgiveness or anything. He just wants the chance to explain himself and tell you that he's sorry. That's what I'm going to do when Anya's feeling better."

Bulma sighed. Geta was right. Vegeta was making such a huge effort to simply talk to her. He hadn't asked for anything else. "All right, Geta. Just let me think on it for a while."

"Okay. Come on, let's get something to eat and get what we want down in writing for the wedding planner," Geta suggested.

"Oh! I'd forgotten about that," Bulma exclaimed. "We only have a couple hours to get our information to the banquet hall."

"Yep. So let's get a move on." Geta gently guided his mother from the lab.

***

Anya awoke with a moan. Her head hurt and her stomach was upset. She tried to sit up but couldn't.

"Hey. You're awake," a familiar voice murmured in her ear.

Anya opened her eyes fully upon realizing that her husband lay spooned behind her, his arms wrapped around her snugly. "Yeah," she groaned, placing a hand on her forehead. "Ugh... Remind me never to do that again." She rested back against Geta a little more comfortably. "Are you upset at me?"

"No, Honey." Geta kissed her neck and rested his head back down with his chin nestled against her head. "I can't say I'm happy that Father gave you all that beer, but I'm not upset at you." His hand ran up and down along her upper arm. "Are you still angry with me?"

Anya sighed. "Geta, I'm sorry about what I said to you. It was a stupid thing to get upset about."

"Shhh... I'm sorry too. But don't worry about that right now. You just concentrate on feeling better." He kissed the top of her head this time. "Have some of my ki. When you're feeling better, I'll show you what Mother gave the wedding planner."

She shifted a little in his arms, and he knew she was anxious over discussing the very thing they'd argued about. "Okay." She wriggled out of her shirt and spooned her back against his bare chest to achieve more skin-to-skin contact. "Thanks."

"Of course."

There was a long pause. "Geta?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Anya."

***

"Mother left everything in here for us to go over," Geta commented as he and Anya entered the den. He went over to the stereo. "A little music okay with you?"

Anya nodded. It was pouring rain outside, and the right music always lifted her mood. Of course he knew that. "Absolutely." She sat down on the couch while he fiddled with the tuner to find an easy listening station. She couldn't help but feel a little trepidation; she didn't want another ugly disagreement like the one they'd had the day prior. In hindsight, however, she knew that Geta felt terrible about what happened. She had no doubt that he would have compromised and made selections they could both be happy with.

Geta picked up an envelope from the small end table beside the arm of the couch as he sat down next to her. "Okay..." He pulled the contents out. "We wanted the guests to be able to pick from filet mignon with scalloped potatoes, chicken marsala with linguine, and grilled salmon with rice pilaf, right?"

"Sounds right to me," Anya agreed. "Oh, did you remember to request eggplant parmesan for your grandfather's assistant? She's a very strict vegetarian."

"Yes, we told them that a few people might want that." He set the menu notes aside. "Okay, here's the place setting we picked."

Anya looked at the picture and smiled. It was one of several that they had both liked. "Nice pick. Flowers?"

Geta flipped through a couple more papers. "Flowers, flowers, where are you? Ah." He handed her another page. "For the men's buttonhole flowers, we decided on small white rosebuds with a spray of baby's breath, and mine will have a larger rosebud, hand dyed in a lovely shade of amethyst." He smiled at her reaction. The look in her eyes made him feel like the greatest man in existence.

Anya's lips trembled slightly. "Oh, Honey... you picked purple? Just for me?" She knew he hadn't been too keen on purple.

Geta took her hands in his. "You were right when you said that this will be the bride's day," he said softly. "No one will be paying any attention to me. They'll all be looking at my lovely bride. I want this to be a day neither of us will forget." He kissed her gently. "Of course, I'll never forget our other wedding day as long as I live."

Anya blushed. Gerdians didn't have public ceremonies the way humans did. True, it was made public knowledge when a couple had joined, but the actual joining happened when the man took the lady to be his wife to his home. They were considered man and wife after their first night together. "You're such an animal," she teased. "Is that all you think about?"

"Hmmm..." Geta pretended to contemplate this. "No, I think about food and sparring too, like the good little Saiyan I am," he teased back. "Hey, I've got a hot wife. Can you blame me?" He kissed her again.

Anya giggled from beneath his lips. "Let's finish going over this," she objected gently. "There's time for that later, if you're a good boy."

Geta grinned broadly at the suggestive tone in her voice and the seductive little smile she gave him. "I'll be good, I promise."

"Good." Anya gave him a peck on the cheek. "What about the other flowers?"

"Uhm... small bouquets of white and purple roses for the women, and a large bouquet with roses and baby's breath for you." He handed her a couple other pictures. "Imagine the red roses are purple."

"Ohhh... they're gorgeous," she breathed.

"I have to admit that they are," he agreed. "Oh, and I mustn't forget wrist corsages for Mother and Gram." He pulled one last photograph out from the pile of notes. "Last but not least, the cake."

Anya's eyes widened when he handed her the picture. It was the very cake she had selected, but it had been digitally altered to include shades of purple for the accents and flowers. "But... I thought you hated this cake."

"No, I don't hate the cake. It's just not my personal taste. But as I said, this is more about things being beautiful for you than for me," Geta reminded her. "I want you to be happy, and if you're happy then I'm happy."

She threw her arms around his neck tightly. He chuckled and put his arms around her in return. "Geta, I can't wait for our wedding," she whispered.

"Me too, Sweetheart," he murmured back. He took her hand and stood up from the couch, bringing her to her feet. "Dance with me."

***

Bulma tossed down her cell phone with a huff. Hiroshi was supposed to have picked her up for breakfast that morning and when he didn't call, she'd called him. He hadn't answered so she'd left a voice message.

That was a couple of hours ago. He hadn't returned her call, sent a text message, an e-mail, nothing. Fine. If the stupid jerk was mad enough at her that he couldn't even be bothered to officially break their plans, she'd go to lunch with Geta and Anya instead. Their lunch plans had been ruined the day before anyway, and Bulma could tell that Anya felt much better today than she had yesterday, both physically and emotionally. She headed for the den, where she'd left the wedding information they'd given to the planner.

Bulma smiled when she saw her son and daughter-in-law dancing and obviously enjoying themselves. "You two are just big kids," she noted, pleased that their argument hadn't had long lasting effects.

Bulma pushed the sobering thought about her own situation that made its way into her head aside. She couldn't think about that right now.

Geta twirled Anya around, making her laugh with glee. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he complained, winking at his wife. She giggled and nodded.

Bulma's eyebrow raised. There was obviously telepathic conversation happening. "Okay, what's going on- whoa!" She found herself swept up into her son's arms.

"Mother, live a little, okay?" He grinned at her, leading in a way she wasn't able to choose not to follow. "It's raining and dreary outside; why not have a little fun?"

Bulma couldn't help but smile at the young couple's exuberance. It wasn't their fault that Hiroshi was being an ass. "You know what? You're right. Why not?" With that, she allowed herself to enjoy the dance.

The music slowed, requiring a more formal, structured step, but still not quite qualifying as a slow dance. "Did you want him back?" Bulma offered her daughter-in-law.

Anya dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Nah, you're having a good time. Have fun." She smiled, pleased to see Bulma finally smile after moping around the house since yesterday afternoon.

"You dance quite well," Bulma complimented her son. "Did I make you get lessons?"

"No, but did have a very good instructor," Geta replied, beaming at his wife.

"You flatterer." Anya blushed slightly. "He could definitely hold his own when we met. I only showed him a few little tips and a couple other steps he didn't know yet. Like a waltz. All of the Gerdian royals were taught to waltz." She giggled. "Once I got here, a girl I befriended and her boyfriend showed me how to tango. Now that's a dance that could get very naughty."

Bulma laughed as her son continued to guide her across the floor. "No argument there. I know a lot of dance steps since I had lessons when I got old enough to date. Dr. Briefs' daughter was sought out at parties, too."

They were chattering amicably when Vegeta poked his head in. "Geta, you need to..." His brow creased. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It's a Gerdian sacrificial rite, silly!" Anya giggled. "Hey, come dance with me. I'm partnerless." She beckoned him in.

Vegeta scowled. "I'm a prince, not a court jester," he objected. "I don't dance."

"That's not true and you know it. Being the crown prince, you were probably taught the basics by the time you were, oh, five or so, weren't you?" Her smirk challenged him to dispute her words.

Vegeta knew he'd been cornered, his face clearly showing it. "No, four," he corrected her glumly.

"So come on in here and dance a couple," she coaxed. Her eyebrow raised. "You know, I've never heard of anyone, royal, noble or otherwise, having to be commanded to dance, have you?" Her eyes twinkled at her husband, who was trying unsuccessfully to hold in a laugh. "But there's a first time for everything, I suppose," she mused.

Vegeta blushed slightly. "That's not a proper utilization of your position, Majesty," he told her indignantly, coming into the room and taking the hand she so formally offered. He bent down smoothly to kiss it, his eyes all the while watching hers.

"Hmph. You act like I'm making you hug a corpse or something equally disgusting," she teased. "Am I that repugnant to you?" Her lip stuck out in a pout.

Vegeta frowned. "Of course not!" he objected, putting his free hand at her waist and beginning to lead.

Geta and Bulma looked on in surprise. Who'd have thought it? :He's actually really good,: Geta commented. :In fact, very good.:

:I agree.: A little thought that popped up in the back of Bulma's mind that it was too bad Vegeta had never danced with her.

They danced for a couple of minutes in silence. Anya had been studying him the whole time. The more she found out about her father-in-law, the more curious she became. She smiled, actually a little surprised at how elegantly he executed the motions, not allowing room for a single error. "Why are you so opposed to this?" she asked incredulously. "You dance wonderfully. And I'll wager you haven't danced in a while, which makes me all the more impressed."

"Hmph. A foolish waste of time," Vegeta griped, glaring at his son who was grinning from ear to ear. Being forced to dance was embarrassing, and he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, since Bulma had skillfully avoided him since he'd given her the sandwich in the kitchen.

"Time better spent training, huh?" Anya teased.

His eyes flicked forward. "Precisely." For the first time since he'd returned, that sounded like a good idea.

Anya sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I still think it's a loss... uh oh, Geta!" she called out to her husband. "Slow dance!" She turned back to Vegeta. "Pops, while I've truly enjoyed dancing with you, I don't slow dance with anyone other than that hunk over there." She winked at her husband.

They smiled knowingly at each other.

Geta steered his mother closer to the other couple. "Switch!" he and Anya chorused.

Before either of their partners realized what was happening, Geta had deftly exchanged his mother for his wife and was now holding her close, swaying gently.

Anya sighed contentedly. "Mmmm... oh, Pops, you don't mind trading me for Bulma for a while, do you?" she asked lazily, not really paying attention to his response anyway. "You two need to practice for the wedding anyway."

Vegeta looked at the woman in his arms, who appeared to be as equally startled as he was. "Uhm... I guess that's fine, as long as you're all right with it, Bulma," he mumbled.

"Uhm, sure. I guess we should practice," Bulma mumbled back.

Vegeta held in a groan. She felt so good in his arms, and he longed to hold her closer. "I'm sorry," his lips moved silently.

Bulma finger lifted to point to his temple, and he took it as her silent permission to establish a telepathic link.

:I never wanted to hurt you, Bulma. I hurt you and I embarrassed you yesterday. I'm sorry for everything.:

Bulma found herself blinking back tears. Had Geta been right about Vegeta not regretting kissing her? :Everything? Then why did you...:

:Kiss you? I just needed to, Bulma. I...: Vegeta swallowed. :I didn't intend to project what I was thinking to you yesterday, but please believe me when I say it was the truth.: He forced the thoughts he was afraid to let her hear to the back of his mind, but the emotions accompanying them were clear as day.

I miss you.

I want you.

I long for you.

I need you.

"I- I can't do this now," Bulma whimpered, breaking away from him and rushing out of the den.

Vegeta's shoulders slumped. He should have known better than to try to offer an apology when they weren't in private but hadn't wanted to simply ignore her by not talking to her either. What else could he have said that wouldn't have seemed forced and contrived? It didn't matter, because despite not wanting to scare her away again he was now standing by himself, feeling rather awkward and rejected. He'd screwed up for what seemed like the millionth time in a never ending string of failures. Wouldn't he ever get this right?

Anya and Geta exchanged a glance. That hadn't gone well at all.

"Father, I apologize," Geta spoke up. "We shouldn't have put you two on the spot like that."

Vegeta shook his head. "No, it's not your fault. Don't let it ruin your day." He placed two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.

Anya leaned against Geta's chest. "Oh, Pops."

***

Vegeta peered down into his son's crib. The baby was still sleeping, his little body twitching in response to whatever dream he was having. "I hope it's better than my dreams," Vegeta murmured, carefully scooping the sleeping child up to his shoulder and holding him close.

The nursery door opened and Bulma paused as she saw Vegeta holding their son, his cheek nestled against the sleeping boy's hair, his heavy brows knit in what could only be anguish. She bit her lip when he raised his head and looked at her.

"Bulma, I..." Vegeta stopped when she averted her eyes. She wouldn't even look at him. He couldn't take it any longer. He gently placed VJ back in his crib. Before Bulma realized what he was doing, he'd opened the nursery window and flown out into the storm. He didn't stop until he'd reached the desert, where he landed and dropped to his knees in despair. He didn't care that it was freezing cold and raining outside. He didn't care that he was alone in this desolate wasteland. He didn't care that he was a Super Saiyan. It no longer meant anything to him that didn't cause him pain. He blocked out the thought that his son and daughter-in-law were worried about him. He didn't want their pity. He only wanted one thing, the one thing he couldn't have.

***

The raven haired woman rolled onto her side and curled her arms around the man laying beside her. "Hmmm... good morning," she murmured, appreciating the firm feeling of his well-toned physique.

He got up from the bed and reached for his clothes. "Damn it, Yumemi, it's late. Why couldn't you have set your alarm clock like I asked you to?"

"Oh, come on. You don't have to leave so quickly. Won't you come back to bed, just for a little while?" the woman purred. "I promise I'll make it worth your while." She patted the mattress beside her invitingly.

"You've already done an adequate job of that," he countered, "and I have no desire to be here when your husband gets home." He picked up his coat and left the apartment without another word.

"Hiroshi..." The woman sighed. The handsome ones were always the toughest to keep around.