Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whispers of a Banshee ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2

Trunks again picked up his three-year old, blue-haired daughter and removed her from her precarious position on top of the couch. He was seriously becoming agitated, and that was an understatement. Vegeta himself was tense at the intrusion of three kids into his home, including a woman who was staring at him as if he had an extra eye in the middle of his forehead.

Finally Vegeta growled at the seven-year-old boy with hair suspiciously like Trunks', but black, that was staring at him unabashedly. The boy blinked blue eyes, pushing bangs back that merely sprang back into place, and moved closer, as if Vegeta's growl had become an invitation. "You have cool hair!"

Trunks scooped the boy up, handing off his daughter to his red-haired wife, who managed to blink her bright green eyes and look away from Vegeta. "Come on, Boxer, leave Grandpa Vegeta alone." He smirked at the grimace on Vegeta's face at the addition of the title. "Well, dad, how long until Bra gets here? And have you called Goten or Gohan?"

Vegeta shrugged. "She said she'd be here tomorrow, but I see no reason to involve those half-breed brats of Kakarott. It is none of their concern."

Trunks frowned, letting go of the squirming boy to take the squealing girl from her mother's arms. Boxer ran off toward the kitchen and his mother wisely followed him. Who knew the boy would have Trunks' knack for getting into trouble?

"Hold still, Slip! How can you say that, dad? Bulma was like a second mom to Goten after ChiChi died and Gohan has always been friends with her! They deserve to know! If you won't call them, I will!"

Vegeta shrugged again. "Fine. I just don't want that third-class family of Kakarott's traipsing all over the place. She needs her rest and all those kids are not going to give it to her."

Trunks sighed. "Well they can at least come visit her. We can get a hotel room."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, scowl lessening slightly. "I'd never hear the end of it then. You'll stay here. There's plenty of room and you can help me out around the house. I am not a housewife."

Trunks chuckled, looking around at the disasters his kids had not caused, as it seemed Vegeta had caused them. "I can tell." He chuckled again at his father's growl, glad the man hadn't changed over the years. He turned as his third and oldest child entered the room. He smiled at the boy, but the child did not return the smile, instead locking black eyes with black eyes.

Vegeta met the fifteen-year-old's gaze without flinching, which obviously wasn't what the boy expected for he blinked. This was the one that reminded him the most of himself, and he wondered if his son had begun training him. Vegeta had chanced to gaze in a mirror when he was young, and the boy that stood before him was exactly what he had seen.

The hair tapered up to a flame-like tip, complete with the exaggerated widow's peak. The face was severe; just losing its baby-like softness and hardening into a gaze that would make grown men quake in their shoes if used correctly. Right now, the face was as easy to read as a book. Vegeta couldn't have said his own face had been like that.

"Do you want to sit down, Vegeta, or are you just going to stand there and stare?" The boy blinked again at his father's voice, breaking gazes with his namesake to take the seat across from the older Vegeta. He resumed his study once seated.

Vegeta ignored the boy and turned to his son. "That wife of yours can do more than stare at me, correct? I haven't exactly the culinary skills required to feed even myself, much less that picky thing upstairs."

Trunks once again rolled his eyes. "Give her a break, dad! She's just met the topic of all those bedtime stories with the kids. You're like a legend or something in my house. It's pitiful when your geezer of a father is cooler then yourself to your own kids."

Vegeta scowled. "Geezer? I'll have you know that I could probably take you and all your whelps on with one hand and not even break a sweat."

Trunks shook his head almost regretfully. "That's probably very true. Although I wouldn't say the same of him." He indicated the boy, who blinked. Luckily, his own coloring as dark as the original Vegeta's, no one could tell he was blushing. "He seems dead set on becoming like you." Trunks rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I have no idea why, though."

The younger Vegeta scowled at his father in perfect imitation of the older one, making Vegeta blink. He gave the boy a more considering gaze. Perhaps here was the warrior neither of his prodigies had become. "It would be interesting to see how far he's come with just your little instruction."

Vegeta's wide eyes turned to the one who looked at him with a narrowed gaze, assessing his worth. He tried to act as if the man's offer had not affected him, but the dreamy smile still crept onto his face.

Trunks looked dubious. "I don't know. We've never actually tested to see how powerful a quarter Saiyan could be. And dad, no offense, but you don't hold back."

Vegeta frowned at his son. "So? What's wrong with that? And Kakarott's grand-brat does just fine, although his regimen would certainly be a lot tougher. I won't have a weakling training under me."

Trunks realized the rarity of the offer Vegeta was giving and could sense his own son's preparedness to protest if he refused. He really didn't want two Vegeta's onto him, so he nodded. "Just make sure all his parts are left intact."

Vegeta scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "All your parts were kept intact." His gaze suddenly snapped to the stairs. "Woman! What do you think you're doing! You're supposed to be in bed!"

Bulma winced as she took the last step, not really ungrateful when Vegeta was there to hold her up as her breath wheezed in and out. The room felt like it was spinning, but she pushed the bile down and smiled at him. "I heard voices and had to come down to see my son and his family! Knowing you two, you'd get into a sparring match before I'd get to see you and then you'd be stuck nursing your wounds."

Vegeta practically carried Bulma over to the couch, sitting her down on it gently. He tried to get her to lie down, but she waved him off, scowling. "Leave off, Vegeta! You do not make a good nursemaid."

Vegeta scowled and sat down beside her. "Whatever, woman. It'll definitely be a month in bed now!"

Bulma rolled her eyes, winking conspiratorially at her son. "Can you please tell him to lay off, Trunks? He's suffocating me!"

Trunks grimaced. "Actually, I think this'll be the only time I take his side, mom. You need to be resting."

Bulma sighed. "Can I at least rest down here? It's boring upstairs." She turned her blue-eyed gaze to the boy sitting silently to the side, watching everything with an absorbing expression. "My goodness! If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if they'd cloned my husband! My, Vegeta! You are just as handsome as the original!"

As the boy shyly lowered his head, pleased at the comment, the Vegeta beside her growled. "Will you please stop your coddling, woman? You've already ruined one boy with it!"

Trunks let out an indignant huff; then perked up as he heard the frustrated screech of his wife in the kitchen, followed by a huge crash. "Heh. I'm going to go help her for a second. Boxer sounds like he's giving her quite a time."

Bulma nodded, reaching out for the girl he still held. Trunks gave her over and hurried to help his wife. "Coming, Rose!" Vegeta chuckled. That boy was truly whipped. The girl didn't even have to call for him.

Slip stared up at the woman who held her with unblinking green eyes. Bulma beamed at the tiny child, curly hair reminding her vividly of her mother; then turned her gaze to the still chuckling man, who wasn't paying any attention to the two beside him. Bulma grinned at the younger Vegeta and mouthed 'watch this' as she slowly let the child go, circumspectly aiming her toward the older man.

Vegeta let out a yelp as two hands gripped his hair, giving it a definite yank. He almost jumped out of his chair as the little girl began to climb all over him like a squirrel in a tree, giggling all the while. He managed to grab her under the arms and held her out in front of him. "I am not a jungle gym!"

Slip stared at him with wide eyes and for a wild, panicked moment he thought she would start bawling. Instead, she merely giggled again and grabbed his nose, tweaking it painfully as she shrieked. "Honk, honk!"

She giggled all the more as his face scrunched up and he tried vainly to hand the child back to the woman. Somehow the slippery child, who Vegeta suspected had been coated in oil, managed to get free of his grip and plant herself firmly in his lap, letting out a contented puff of breath and putting her thumb in her mouth.

Vegeta gave a defeated sigh and leaned back, allowing the child to snuggle even more into his lap, eyes slowly closing, as he gave the beaming woman beside him a good glare.

Bulma chuckled. "That is so sweet, Vegeta."

Vegeta let out a good growl. "Hush, woman. If she wakes up, I'll make sure it's two months in bed."

Vegeta shared in his grandmother's laughter and Bulma turned to him. "You're awfully quiet."

The younger Vegeta smiled a little. "Yeah, sorry about that." His voice took on a raspy quality, minus the accent, that was so much like Vegeta's the other raised a brow at him. "I'm kind of quiet in new situations."

Vegeta nodded, unconsciously playing with Slip's hair as Bulma chuckled. "The likeness is simply uncanny. But I'm sure you get sick of hearing that."

Vegeta shook his head. "No! I want to be just like-him." It was awkward having two people in the room with the same name.

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I wouldn't wish for that for all the world. His Highness here is the Prince of Grumpiness and Bad-tempers, not to mention Arrogance. You'd have to be able to go on and on about being the greatest warrior in the universe and the Prince of all Saiyans twenty-four seven and still manage to keep your head the same size." She grinned, not looking at the growling man beside her. "I think I help in that department."

Vegeta laughed lightly, then turned his gaze to the other Vegeta. "So, it's true that you're a Prince?"

Vegeta puffed up, opening his mouth to tell the boy of his great heritage in being named after a long line of Vegeta's; the first being the Legendary of one thousand years ago, to snap it shut again and glare at the woman.

"Now you've got him started."

"All I was going to tell him was to be proud of his heritage. Boy, you come from a long line of Vegeta's dating all the way back to the first, who subjugated the weaker race that was living on our planet by becoming the Legendary. The planet was named in his honor and every successor to the throne has carried his name henceforth with pride and dignity."

The boy gave a low whistle, eyes wide. "The Legendary.... Is that like when dad goes Super Saiyan?"

Vegeta nodded, grimacing as the boy asked his next question. "So what abut my father? Why wasn't he named Vegeta?"

The Saiyan glared at his mate. "Because his mother and her mother before her, probably her whole line, has this absurd obsession with underwear. Your father seems to want to take on that trait also. I'm just glad Bra has said she won't."

Bulma scoffed. "And your whole race had an obsession with vegetables-Vegeta."

Vegeta rose, scowling down at her and taking Slip up with him, as Trunks came back into the room with a squealing Boxer under his arm, his wife following along behind. "Um, mom? That vase that was on the counter, was it expensive?"

His wife none-too-gently elbowed him in the ribs. "What he means is that Boxer knocked it over and we'd be glad to pay for a new one."

Bulma grimaced. "That ugly old orange and green one that looks like someone threw up on it? I ought to thank your son for breaking that! I hated it, but I'm a pack rat when it comes to glassware."

Vegeta rolled his eyes as if to attest to that and handed the soundly sleeping Slip back to her mother, whose opinion had definitely changed concerning the strict and grumpy man. Anyone Slip trusted enough to sleep on…well, they were okay in Rose's book.

"I'm going to go get some training in." He looked pointedly at Bulma. "You stay right there. I don't want you to move even an inch unless it's to lie down."

Bulma mock-saluted him. "Aye, aye captain."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and stalked away, pausing just inside the doorway to glance behind him at the other Vegeta. "Are you coming?"

Vegeta blinked, then eagerly nodded, rushing to catch up with the older man with an expression of adulation on his face.

Bulma chuckled. "That'll do wonders for his ego."

Rose smiled as she sat down beside an exhausted Trunks, who managed to keep a firm hold on the still squirming boy. She cradled Slip to her and grinned at the small smile on the girl's face. "He seems a complex man."

Bulma snorted and Trunks followed suit with a bark of laughter, both sharing a look of glee in their shared reaction. Rose let out a soft laugh at the pair and was responded to by Bulma. "You have no idea! I think he alone put most of the gray hairs on me! Trying to interpret one word from that man's mouth is like getting a root canal."

Trunks nodded. "I can't count the number of times he had to literally carry me out of the Gravity Room. He didn't do it often, or he'd sleep on the couch for a week, but he always said, 'What doesn't kill the boy will make him stronger.'" The deepening of his voice added to the comedy.

Bulma joined him in the next, "'He's a Saiyan with royal blood running in his veins. I will not allow a weakling to call himself my son!'"

Rose laughed. "Boy! A handful, eh? Kind of like our Vegeta?"

Trunks rolled his eyes. "If that boy decides to emulate his idol any more, I'm going to force you to adopt him, mom. He hasn't seen his grandfather since he was Boxer's age and still manages to have all of his facial expressions, stubbornness, and temper. Luckily he hasn't gotten the pride yet. Although, since dad's going to be training him-"

Rose's eyebrows climbed as she looked indignantly at her husband, who looked to be regretting his comment. "What? Well, it would've been nice if you'd informed me, Trunks! But then again, I guess since he's your son and all…."

Trunks raised two placating hands to his wife, whose temper obviously matched her flame-colored hair and sparking eyes. This however, released Boxer, who bounded off quickly before Trunks could grab for him. His wife rose in a huff, handing off her oblivious daughter to him, eyes glaring daggers at him. "Don't worry. This one's mine. I'll get him." Her cold voice offset her fiery personality perfectly.

Trunks groaned at the predicament he had put himself into. Out of the cooking pot and into the fire.

Bulma spared him a soft smile that was meant to be soothing, but was almost amused. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll make it up to her tonight."

As Trunks blushed at his mother making this unsubtle innuendo, Bulma continued. "How long are you staying? And you are staying here. I simply won't have you in a hotel!"

Trunks sighed. "Maybe a week. Father already told me the consequences of us not staying here, and while I'd love to see him get chewed out, I prefer this to a hotel any day. I want to be close to you." The last was softly said, almost tremulously.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I swear! You and Vegeta both act like I have one foot in the grave!"

Trunks shook his head, eyes lowered to the floor, barely registering the sound of Rose's pleads to Boxer to 'slow down' and 'stop'. "I'm sorry, mom, but you certainly don't look like you're going to hop on a motorcycle and go on a hunt for dragonballs."

Bulma frowned, the wrinkles in her forehead creasing as much as Vegeta's ever had. The mention of the magical orbs had brought a recent memory back from the haze of dreams she had been in. "Trunks, what do you think your father will do once I'm gone?"

Trunks lurched back, blue eyes wide in shock. He paused for a few minutes, mouth open a bit, as he seriously considered her question. "Well-I've never really thought about it. He is a Prince. I suppose he could go back to space, try and get some kind of empire set up…. Maybe he'd just stay here, training and stuff." He shrugged. "It's a disturbing thought actually."

Bulma nodded, looking thoughtful, eyes not on anything Trunks could see. "I asked him. He didn't know either. But he did say something that troubled me, and he was quite serious about it." She shook her head suddenly. "But you know your father. Full of half-brained ideas and crazy schemes. It was just something my addled brain wondered and I stupidly opened my mouth and asked him." She met his eyes with a wince at the look contained in them. "And now I've upset him and you."

Trunks brushed aside her concern and guilt, though his eyes still held a hint of whatever was haunting them. His mother dead was inconceivable, but then again, ChiChi's death had been, too. "Maybe with young Vegeta here, he'd have more to do than he thought when you first asked him. Training that boy will be a full-time job. He questions every single move like I never had the nerve to. I suppose that's why Rose is so worried. That and the fact that even a scratch on him sends her into a fit."

Bulma chuckled. "I seem to remember a similar reaction. Perhaps she and Vegeta could have a little chat to settle her worries." She thought about the inevitable conclusion of such a talk and frowned. "Then again, better make it she and I."

Trunks chuckled. "You're right about that. That would be like ChiChi and Vegeta in the same room. It would end with a frying pan and a Big Bang."

Bulma chuckled. "Hey! Why don't you give Goten a ring? He asked after you last week, and maybe Goku too. Ever since this happened, he's been without a sparring partner. Vegeta won't even leave the house to get the mail."

Trunks nodded. "Are you sure you don't want some company?" He showed his anxiety to catch up with his best friend in his twitching foot. Plus the additional treat of a spar with the strongest warrior on Earth.

Bulma reached out for the still-sleeping Slip, who was gladly given over to her care. "This is all the company an old woman like me needs. You young ones tire me out. I may just follow Slip's example and take a nap."

She smiled as her son gratefully rose. "Don't be late for dinner."

Trunks grinned. "Especially since my wife's cooking. She's a great cook!" He colored slightly. "No offense, mom."

She laughed lightly. "None taken. I'm at least glad to know I don't cook as bad as your father. It's no wonder he likes everything raw."

Trunks laughed, gazing fondly at the perfect picture his daughter and mother made, missing the shade of Slip's hair on his mother as he left the room.

Bulma smiled down at her granddaughter and positioned herself to lie down comfortably on the pillows decorating the couch, following Slip's silent advice.

* * *

Vegeta smirked at the boy who was practically bouncing on his toes as the older man stood by the console. "How far are you in gravity, boy?"

Vegeta brushed back two wisps of bangs that were just learning to stay upright with the rest of his hair. "Seventy G's, sir."

The Prince grimaced. "Call me Vegeta. Sir makes me feel old." He tilted his head to one side. "Okay, let's see how much my son remembered of my own training." He lightly tapped the keys, not looking at what he was punching in.

The younger version of himself nodded, seeming to lock onto his every movement as if he was mentally recording them to practice in front of a mirror. Vegeta frowned. This might become annoying.

"We have to find a way to distinguish between you and me, or it's going to become pretty confusing in this household." The red light of the room switched on and Vegeta easily adjusted to the weight, not even feeling a thing. The other obviously felt something. His whole body reacted to the weight by almost folding in on itself.

Vegeta smirked. "Liar. You're probably only used to fifty-five, correct?"

Vegeta nodded, glancing away and biting his lower lip. The Prince sighed. "If you're going to tell such a blatant lie, do so with something that can't be caught onto. Now, we begin this."

Vegeta's first attack was made with deliberate slowness, testing the boy's reflexes more than anything else. He felt a spark of something like excitement as his charging roundhouse was met with a calm outward demeanor and knocked to the side with intense concentration.

Vegeta smirked, then phased out from in front of the boy. The younger Vegeta looked wildly around, eyes wide, to stumble forward onto his face. He managed to gather his feet under him and roll forward, hearing a punch hit the floor where he had been. He glanced back with wide eyes, a dent marking the spot where he had once been. The man was not holding back!

Vegeta kept that same smirk in place. He had anticipated the roll, and the punch would certainly make sure the boy held nothing back. He gathered his ki together with a short shout, watching the boy's eyes go wider with something like true fear, and charged him once again.

The younger Vegeta let out a yelp and backpedaled in a way that made the other frown. The look of displeasure put the spine back in him and he met the charge with a downward duck, ramming two hands up in a double-punch to Vegeta's midsection.

The Prince flipped himself upwards, halting his charge and spinning head over heels to land behind the inexperienced Vegeta, hitting him with a ki blast that merely singed the boy's dignity.

This time it was the younger who attacked, sick of being on the defensive and having his just-forming pride trampled on. He decided suddenly that he wanted this man to look at him with something other than superiority, and certainly not displeasure. With a smirk that almost made the Prince pause, Vegeta phased out, reappearing behind the man who whirled around and swinging a roundhouse out that clipped the quickly ducking Saiyan's hair.

The Prince continued his momentum by tucking into himself and rolling forward, leaping straight into the air to execute a spinning hook kick that laid the boy into the opposite wall.

Vegeta blinked, trying to clear his foggy sight as he sat on the floor and raised his head in surprise when a hand entered his line of sight. "Good. You could use some sharpening and you certainly need to learn all the techniques of a warrior. However, you're good for a quarter Saiyan. Possibly as good as your father at this age." The face looking down at him contained passive neutrality.

Vegeta glowed at the compliment as he took the hand, which immediately released him as soon as he was steady.

"Did you know that phasing technique before today?" The older man moved to the console again, letting the boy rub aching muscles in private.

Vegeta shook his head and voiced his denial aloud. "The one where you kind of disappeared? No. I just-knew how when I saw you do it."

The Prince hid a slight smile as he put the gravity down to fifty G's. "You inherited something from me beyond your good looks then. Your father couldn't pick up techniques that fast." He didn't want to inflate the boy so soon. He turned, shifting down into a fighting stance. "Now let's work on that sidekick you didn't hit me with."

A/N: I have someone drawing up these characters so you get a better idea of what exactly they look like. Slip's my favorite right now…. Sorry P/T fans. I don't have a good enough impression of Pan to pair her with my favorite Demi-Saiyan. Rose, Slip, Boxer, and the younger Vegeta are mine….

Susan: Jeez…. I hope this lightened the mood…. Don't worry, you're right about the angst part. But you are warned by the title. You enlightened person, you. Well then, I'm sure I don't have to tell you about the foreshadowing! How old was Bra at the end of GT? 'Cause she's in college right now…. You should be able to figure it out when she comes into the scene. IOW, I have no idea. I'd say 80's, but I haven't had to calculate it yet…. Oh, you so better be joking! That's just offensive! No, he takes after me and dad in the imagination department.

JadedBest: Well, I do do that, but this has nothing to do with it! We were eating DBZ snacks and he asked me if I could write him a story and I said sure, what about, and he said-oh, can't say that yet…. Heehee But I said I could and this story popped up on July 4th. God bless America, eh? Lol He likes 'Goku' and wants him to turn into a giant monkey. He's watched maybe three episodes (1 DB, and 2 DBZ) and he wants to watch more…. I told him when he's old enough; he can look at my mangas…. Right now, it's TMNT for him. Then again, maybe I just didn't want to write about ChiChi, eh? Well, maybe if you're really good, you'll get Trunks as a consolation prize in LPP…. Heehee (rolls eyes) Well, give her a cookie, Vegeta! She knows what one thing means! You still can't figure out PT! (PPBBTT) [ßraspberry!]

Plug: This story came about because I was reading another story (very different from this) where Vegeta is old. It is called The Vegeta Redemption by Jimbo…. Go read. Very interesting view on Vegeta as an old-Saiyan.

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