Note: This story takes place after the cell saga but assumes that Goku never died. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Although I would like to own the DBZ characters, I don’t, too bad for me!

Gohan sat in his new classroom; Chi-Chi had made him take this journalism class to fulfill at least one of his missing requirements. The wooden chair was hard and made him sit straight even though he was really tired. The methodical taping of his pen on the desk’s surface was mesmerizing as he quietly waited for his teacher, Ms. Apple, to arrive and begin class.

Just then, Ms. Apple swung open the classroom door and cheerily said "hello" to her class. Ms. Apple was very young and pretty for a teacher. She was about 5’6", with long brown hair, and very round dark eyes. She wore glasses to read and they were very stylish; small, with red frames which were very flattering to her face. She also had a very comforting, soothing voice that was such a pleasure to hear. Gohan really liked her, and besides her pleasing appearance she was also an accomplished journalist herself, she taught only because she enjoyed the children so much.

"Okay class," Ms. Apple began, "today we are going to discuss the project I am assigning you which will be due in one week. The assignment is to interview someone that interests you, in hopes that they will interest others as well. This person can be absolutely anyone that you know, but make sure that they are the most exciting that you can find."

She continued with the directions, such as how long it had to be and how they were going to turn it in, etc. Gohan then wondered whom was he going to interview? ‘Well,’ he thought to himself, ‘it has to be someone that interests me. Hmmm, I know, Mr. Piccolo!’ With further thought although, he doubted that someone who meditated all day would interest anyone but himself. He knew that there were some very fascinating aspects about Piccolo but not all of them could safely be revealed, such as the fact that he permanently merged with someone who lives on a platform that floats above the surface of the earth. After all, this was a serious journalism project, not a science fiction story.

Gohan continued to ponder. ‘Of course,’ he thought, ‘my own father!’ However, as quickly as the idea had come to him, it had to be dismissed. It was no secret that his father, Goku, was not the brightest bulb in the bunch. Certainly, Goku held very journalistic worthy qualities and experiences but he wasn’t very good at expressing what he knew without sounding as a small child overwhelmed in a F.A.Q. Schwartz toy store.

‘Bulma!’ Gohan exclaimed to himself. ‘Anyone would be interested in a successful billionaire, business tycoon.’ However, with further thought, Gohan remembered that indeed Bulma was interviewed all of the time, by professional journalists no less. ‘Do I really want to do what is done all too commonly?’ He finally decided on no.

Gohan was growing concerned. He wanted to get started on this project quickly so that he could do the best job possible. ‘Yamcha!’ He thought about it further. ‘Of course most would be fascinated by a professional baseball player. On the other hand, while I certainly like Yamcha, I never have truly admired him. His priorities have never been straight, he has always lacked that drive that the other people around me posses.’

Gohan’s train of thoughts was quickly interrupted by the murmur of the other children in class. "Okay," said Ms. Apple, "talk amongst yourselves and perhaps a classmate can give you an idea of who to interview for this project."

"I’m going to interview my mom," said a little yellow haired girl.

"Well I’m going to interview my uncle, he’s a cowboy!" said a boy with a huge overbite.

"My neighbor is a fireman, I’m interviewing him," shouted a tall, skinny girl with braids.

Suddenly, and without warning the perfect idea hit Gohan like ki blast from Piccolo. ‘Of course,’ Gohan thought to himself, ‘why in Kame’s name didn’t I think of this first? The most interesting, most endearing person I know is…’ "VEGETA." Gohan shouted aloud. Everyone turned and looked, Gohan blushed and sank back into his wooden chair.

"Trunks," the harsh, deep voice shouted, "get your ass down here NOW." Vegeta yelled up the stairs of Capsule Corporation. Just then, the little boy carefully rounded the corner and began his decent down the stairs. Vegeta stood at the bottom of the staircase while watching his son slowly walk. Trunks had been able to walk for a while, but he still held on to the handrail when walking on the stairs. "Hurry up or I will quicken your pace for you," said Vegeta evenly; with that, Trunks grabbed tighter to the handrail and moved his feet faster down the stairs.

Bulma, who was sitting in the kitchen, could see the entire scene from where she was reading. She noted Vegeta standing at the bottom of the staircase, feet shoulder width apart, arms crossed over his chest, and the ever-present scowl gracing his strong features. He was wearing black sweats and a tight fitting white tank top without any shoes. "Irresistibly gorgeous," she thought to herself. Vegeta always looked good, it really didn’t matter what he was wearing. She followed his eyes to her young son making his ways down the steps. Trunks was also wearing sweats, and he had on a yellow "polo athletics" t-shirt, he was barefoot too, and moving as fast as he could to appease his father. Bulma immediately knew what this meant; Vegeta was going to be training Trunks.

"Its about bloody time boy," Vegeta spat. He began walking towards the door that lead to the back yard, Trunks followed closely behind. Bulma watched the two begin, she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Vegeta teaching Trunks how to fight at such a young age, but she was certainly pleased that he chose to be involved with Trunks at all. Besides, her son idolized him, and even if she expressed her discomfort, the training would continue regardless.

She continued watching out through the window, making sure not to do anything that would bring attention to her presence. She saw Vegeta on one knee in front of Trunks. He was placing Trunks’ hand into a fist explaining to him the reason of the position he was making. "Make absolutely sure that your thumb is outside of your fist and tucked underneath, this way it wont break on impact," said Vegeta. Trunks happily complied and made a proper fist with his other hand as well.

Bulma continued to watch. For all of her previous doubts concerning Vegeta, his actions had certainly proved her wrong. He was a fantastic father, in his own twisted way. His son adored him and the feeling was obviously mutual to anyone who had the privilege of seeing Vegeta alone with his child. Bulma still had things to do around the house and decided to get to them, but anytime she would cross a window or door that would allow her to view her husband and son, she would quietly watch them for a minute in complete awe of how fortunate she was to have two such magnificent men in her life.

Gohan finally returned home from school, he landed right outside of his quiet mountain house. He smelt the food his mother was preparing, which she had ready for him every day after school, and with his other sense, he felt his father’s ki from inside the house. He was excited that Goku was already home.

Smiling, Gohan walked in and was greeted happily by his parents. Chi-Chi gave him a quick hug and Goku gave him a hard pat on the back. "How was school today?" Inquired Chi-Chi.

"Oh, it was great," said Gohan ecstatically, "Ms. Apple gave us a journalism project and I’m really excited about getting started on it."

"So what do you have to do?" questioned Chi-Chi

"Well," started Gohan, "the assignment is to conduct an interview with someone interesting just like real journalists do."

"Then who are you going to interview?" Chi-Chi said with a cough that implied she was sure Gohan was going to ask her.

Gohan turned to his father who was eating as if this was his last meal. "Dad, I was hoping that you wouldn’t be at all offended, but I would like to interview Vegeta."

Chi-Chi’s mouth dropped open, "you can’t be serious! First my Goku is always hanging out with him, and now my son is looking up to that monster!"

Goku looked up from his plate at Gohan, completely ignoring Chi-Chi. "Of course I wouldn’t be offended son. Vegeta certainly fits the requirement of interesting, and few, if any would be allowed to have an interview. You’ll have the best story in the whole class with a subject like Vegeta."

"Well Dad, I was concerned about that," said Gohan hesitantly, "I wasn’t sure Vegeta would let me interview him."

"Hey kid, don’t worry about that. It’s Monday today, and that means I spar with Vegeta over at Capsule Corp. I’ll ask him for you when I go over there later tonight."

"Oh, thanks dad, that would help me a lot if you did that." ‘I hope he agrees,’ Gohan thought to himself as he began to dish some food out onto his plate; he glanced over to his mother, her jaw was still hanging open.

"Okay Trunks," Vegeta cockily started with a smirk, "since you are starting to become confident with the basics, I grant you the honor to spar me."

Trunks swallowed. He knew that no one really wanted to spar his father, except for Goku who did it three times a week, every week. He guessed that since Goku and his father were always relatively close in power that they enjoyed the challenge of one another, Trunks also knew that while the comment that Vegeta gave him about being "granted the honor" to spar with him was said sarcastically it was indeed the truth. Trunks really was too young to understand his father’s past role as a prince, he did understand though, through various people telling him, mainly Goku, that a prince did not spar with just anybody; that anyone who was chosen by a member of the royal family as a training partner, indeed must be special. It hadn’t quite yet occurred to Trunks that he in fact was a prince himself.

"Well brat? I strongly advise you to get into a fighting stance and especially to keep your hands up, protecting you face, unless of course you believe that you are quick enough to keep them down."

Trunks swallowed again, but he knew that he had to play this game confidently. His father was much more patient and merciful when he was acting similar to how he did when challenged. In fact, Vegeta often gave him a real, genuine smile when he came up with a clever comeback.

"Ha," laughed Trunks quickly. He had nearly learned to imitate Vegeta’s laugh perfectly. "I was just about to remind you to do the same."

"Then, why don’t you start us off," Vegeta stated as a wider smirk appeared.

"To scarred to jump the gun I see. I don’t…." Trunks started but was unable to finish. Vegeta had flown straight at him and knocked him to the ground before he could utter another syllable. He didn’t hit him hard, but hard enough to get the point across, Trunks was no contest for him whatsoever.

Vegeta picked his son up by his collar and lifted him eye level. He looked into his disoriented blue eyes, and his son’s eyes met his gaze back evenly. This was just what he had taught him to do previously, never to appear intimidated. Trunks was learning quickly and Vegeta was undeniably proud. He held his son to such high standards because he knew that he was capable of meeting them.

"Vegeta, Trunks," Bulma practically whispered from the kitchen window, she knew that although she was hardly audible even to herself, both had heard, "lunch is ready."

Vegeta’s eyes had never left Trunks’, and he was satisfied to see that Trunks had held his intense stare even through the interruption. He was indeed proud of his son, and he placed him back down on the ground and knelt down to be even with the boy. Vegeta started to speak in his native tongue. He often spoke to Trunks in this language when they were alone because he believed that it was important to keep some saiyan customs with his son. He was disappointed that Trunks rarely asked him questions about their heritage but attributed that to his young age.

Bulma began to walk out the door to the outside table, it was a beautiful day and she felt it would be nice to eat outside, as she placed the trey holding lunch on the umbrella covered table, she heard Vegeta speaking to Trunks in his native language. She loved hearing the sounds of this dialect, it was so Vegeta: strong, sharp, and concise. Often she would ask him to speak it to her, just so that she could hear it although she didn’t understand even one word, he rarely complied but when he did, she always listened carefully, in a trance being held by the harsh sounding syllables.

Bulma didn’t know what Vegeta had said to their son, but judging by their countenance, it was a pleasurable ending conversation. They both walked over to the small table. Bulma had made sandwiches, salad, iced tea, and had also brought out a huge bowl of potato chips. She got both of their plates ready receiving a "thank you" from Trunks and an acknowledging nod from Vegeta. Trunks began to really dig in and was quickly reprimanded by his father.

"I will not allow you to eat as that fool Kakcarrott!" Vegeta yelled.

It was true, Bulma thought; Vegeta although he ate a lot, was always very dignified. He had superb table manners and was adamant that Trunks be the same. Immediately Trunks put his napkin on his lap and slowed his pace.

"Speaking of Kakca…err…I mean Goku," Bulma corrected herself, "I trust that he will be coming over tonight."

"Of course women," Vegeta added quickly, "it’s Monday, and that chronic adolescent comes over every Monday."

Bulma was irritated with his matter-of-fact tone, but decided that this day was too enjoyable to start something not worth the time. How was she suppose to keep track of when Goku came over, it seemed to her that he was over there all of the time.

"And are you so much more mature than Goku." Bulma asked sarcastically.

"Of course," Vegeta started in a very matter-of-fact tone, even more so than before. "I am what you might call, an erudite example of breeding, taste, and dignity."

"Erudite uhh? Tell me what subject you claim to be so educated in," pried Bulma.

"How dare you request me to validate my statement, who are you to question me?"

Bulma had noticed that Vegeta had said his last comment in a peculiar tone, one she had not expected, as if he was hiding something, but letting her know that there was something to be hidden, he was almost challenging her to question him further of course with that unmistakable smirk. She was defiantly curious but decided she would get nothing from him now and promised herself that she would get to the bottom of this later when he was not so on guard.

Bulma finished eating first, because she ate so much less than her other family members and because Vegeta insisted on proper manners for himself and for Trunks.

"Trunks," Bulma started, "help me take in the dishes."

"No way! I want to stay out here with dad."

Bulma’s eyes went wide. Trunks was always so quick to tell her "no" as of recent. She was certain it was Vegeta’s example.

Just then Vegeta crossed his arms in front of his chest, exhaled, leaned back and began to speak to Trunks again in the saiyan language. Bulma noted that his expression did not change, and because there were very few inflections in this tongue, she never could even guess what was being said.

Trunks responded back to him, and Vegeta gave him a slight nod. Trunks then picked up all of the plates and walked them to the kitchen, hovered off the ground to place them in the sink, and turn on the water.

Bulma was nervous that he would drop the plates, after all, he was only a little boy, and she just wanted to teach him some responsibility at a young age. She wanted to ask Vegeta what he says to Trunks but figured she would not get an answer, at least not an acceptable one. Perhaps she would try to get her answer from her son. She smiled to herself.

"He will not answer you either." Vegeta said a loud.

"Damn, being bonded can suck." Bulma said mostly to herself.

"Bye Chi-Chi! I’ll be home later tonight!" Goku yelled to his wife while he was leaving for Capsule Corp.

Gohan came into his view in the doorway holding his little brother, Goten. "Dad, please remember to ask Vegeta if I may interview him, okay?"

"Of course I will son, I won’t forget."

With that, Goku quickly flared up and was on his way to Capsule Corp. for his usual sparring match with his ardent rival, and ironically, his most appreciated friend.

Minutes later, Goku touched down on the Capsule Corp. front porch and knocked on the door. Bulma answered the door, Trunks was on her side, holding on to her leg.

"Hey Goku!"

"Oh, hey Bulma. And hey to you too Trunks." He said looking down at the boy, as he was gestured in by Bulma.

Bulma was about to call for Vegeta but quickly stopped herself. One thing she had learned about her husband was that he hated being told things he already knew. Although she didn’t understand how all of her friends were able to "sense" one another, she did understand that Vegeta was well aware of Goku’s presence.

As if on cue, the prince calmly and gracefully stalked down the staircase. When he reached the bottom, after his dramatic decent; he fixed his gaze on his sparring partner, gave him a quick nod, and Goku followed him to the back door.

They both engaged in a quick warm up, a little stretching, cracking of the joints, and a few kicks and punches so that they were loose. When they were both ready, they each got into a fighting stance, slightly paused, and then flew at each other full speed.

They had been going at it for about an hour so far, neither really tired. Trunks watched from a window, which he always did when the two were sparring, he loved seeing two such experienced and accomplished fighters practicing. Their execution truly was a beautiful sight, but he appreciated his father’s expert cunning the most. He looked to him punching a kicking, fading in and out, and he promised himself that one-day he would be able to fight just like that. After all, he was being trained by him to fight just like that.

Trunks continued to watch the two and then he noticed them come to a halt. They always did after about an hour or so. Now they would come into the kitchen, get something to eat, sit on the roof and talk together for a little while before they began again about after a half an hour later.

"Whew, I’m exhausted!" Goku said panting as he opened the insanely large Capsule Corp. refrigerator and peered inside, grabbing two orange sodas. Bulma knew Goku loved "fruit flavored" sodas and made sure that there was always some in the fridge when he came over.

Vegeta got what he wanted from the fridge, a large can of Arizona iced tea; he loved iced tea, and drank a lot of it. In addition, he picked up a plate of penne pasta with chicken. Goku picked his plate up as well. Bulma always had cooked for them on these nights but she never received a thanks or even an acknowledgement. It was as if the two of them believed some sort of kitchen fairy granted them a great meal three nights a week when they had their sessions.

Both of the saiyans then stepped outside and floated up to their place on the roof. This place was very close to Bulma’s and Vegeta’s bedroom, but more significantly, it was the best view on the property. Every star seemed visible from this location; nothing obstructed the endless night sky.

Goku and Vegeta both sat on top of the roof and quietly ate. Goku finished first and sighed, "mmm, that was great." Vegeta then finished, put his plate, napkin, and utensils to the side and layback with one knee up and both hands behind his head. He continued to glance to the clear, black sky. Goku followed suit and stared upward.

Goku looked to the sky a few more minutes, but soon became bored and looked away toward his partner. ‘Vegeta sure does look intensely at the sky,’ Goku thought to himself. Then Goku recalled that he said he would remember to do something, but what was it anyway? He grew uneasy, he promised Gohan he would remember to do something, but what was it that he promised.

Just then, both saiyans heard the phone ring inside the house and Bulma pick it up. Although her window was closed, the saiyans could easily hear the whole conversation, even the woman on the other end.

"Ms. Briefs?" asked Cookie, Bulma’s new, young secretary.

"Yes," replied Bulma

"A representative of ‘People" magazine has asked for a follow up interview with you for ‘The 50 Most Beautiful People’ issue, they would like to do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?! Yikes!! But, yes, tell them it will be fine."

"Okay, they would like to do it at 8:00 am, should I confirm this time with them?"

"No, tell them no earlier than 9:00 am."

"Okay Ms. Briefs, I’ll do that now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Bulma said back and hung up.

‘That’s it,’ Goku remembered, ‘an interview.’ "Stupid women," Vegeta said aloud, "and stupid magazine, how could an ugly idiot like her be voted as one of the fifty most beautiful people? I suppose that’s what happens when subjected to something as absurd as a democracy." Vegeta continued smirking.

"I heard that Vegeta!" Bulma said out the window. "Of course you did, I intended for you to hear it." Vegeta smirked. "Well, anyways," Bulma started, "I just wanted to say goodnight to Goku, I am going to sleep now so that I am my superior intelligent and beautiful self for tomorrow’s interview I wont be up when you leave." Vegeta rolled his eyes and let out a small cough of amusement. Goku said "goodnight" and with that Bulma closed her window and turned off her light. Both heard her settle into bed and then lay still.

"Hey Vegeta?" Goku started.

"What is it?!" Vegeta demanded rudely.

"Well I was going to ask you if you could…"

"NO," Vegeta cut him off.

"Oh come on Vegeta, let me at least ask you before you say no."

"If it will end your maddening tension, then fine."

Goku instantly knew what Vegeta meant. Because the two had be come so close of sorts, they kind of shared a telepathic ability with one another. They both were so cued into each others ki, that any inflections in mood were easily detectable by the other.

"Gohan has a project for school that involves an interview, he wanted to interview you. I told him that I would ask for him."

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" Vegeta yelled loudly and sat up quickly, bringing his knees closer to his chest and in the process waking Bulma

"I was hoping you would do it even if you didn’t really want to." Goku said quietly.

"Vegeta. Do it." Bulma said while climbing through the window to join the two saiyans under the night sky, wearing an expression that said he would be deprived of a whole lot, if he refused to comply. Goku didn’t catch the silent conversation taking place between them, but noted Vegeta getting really angry.

"SHIT." Vegeta said loudly, "Fine Kakcarrott, I’ll do the stupid interview, but it cant last too long, and my training Trunks certainly cannot be interfered with."

"Hey, why don’t I train Trunks during that time!" Goku said enthusiastically.

"My heir will not be trained by some bastard 3^rd class excuse for a saiyan."

Goku had completely come accustomed to Vegeta’s barbs, but surprisingly Bulma came to his defense.

"I think it’s a good idea Vegeta," she started with one finger pointed up and her eyes steady. "Goku could train him along with his youngest. It’s important that Trunks be introduced to other children, and he is around so many adults. In fact, I insist that Trunks spend some time at the Son’s." Again Bulma used that same expression Goku noted. It seemed to sway Vegeta’s stubbornness. "Thank you for offering to have Trunks over at your house Goku, I’ll see to it that Gohan gets his interview. When did Gohan want to have it?" Bulma asked.

"He would like to get started as soon as possible, whenever is most convenient for you tomorrow Vegeta." Goku answered hesitantly.

"How about noon then?" Bulma offered. "I’ll certainly be finished with my own interview then. Goku and Gohan can come together, Gohan would stay, and Goku would take Trunks back to his house."

"Is that fine with you Vegeta?" Goku asked.

"IT’S FINE, whatever. Are you ready to start yet Kakcarrott?!" Vegeta demanded impatiently, signaling Bulma that he was in no way pleased with her and further, wanted no more of her additions to the conversation.

"Goodnight boys!" Bulma chimed as she walked to her window, climbed in, and settled into bed.

"I’m not feeling as merciful after that little ordeal, Kakcarrott." Vegeta said as they ascended into the sky. "I hope for you sake that you have completely recovered from you last beating," he smirked menacingly.

"I’m ready Vegeta, and thanks again for let…." Goku was cut off by a punch to the face.

The two saiyans fought for a few more hours, until they both were tired. Goku left saying he would see Vegeta tomorrow. Vegeta cringed at these words, there was certainly a reason that he decided to spar with Kakcarrott only three times a week, and that reason was so he never had to see that pathetic, painfully stupid weakling two days consecutively.

The prince walked silently to Capsule Corps’ front door. This way he wouldn’t wake up the women, she was such a bitch when she was awaken in the middle of the night, and Vegeta would do anything to avoid the torture of her voice in the serenity of the late night.

He turned the knob, and to his surprise it was locked. This door was usually locked but it amazed him each time that the safest place to be, probably in the entire world was locked. ‘Seriously,’ he thought, ‘this place is stacked with cameras, and guards watching from surveillance rooms 19/10, I mean 24/7 for this planet. Besides all of that, I, the most powerful warrior in the universe am here nearly every night. Even if I wasn’t here, Trunks would have a field day with any of these pathetic humans.’

As Vegeta continued to think of all of the reasons to keep the doors unlocked, he started to pick the lock with a twig that he found conveniently on the porch. Sure he could get into any door through a number of ways, but this way he learned as a child and had always liked the idea that it was impossible for anyone to detect the locking mechanism had been tampered with if it was done properly.

The door opened quickly. Yes, he certainly had mastered that little trick, as he had many others on planet vegeta. He closed the unlocked door behind him and went to his bathroom to take a shower before going to bed.

Vegeta lay asleep in bed hugging Bulma from behind, around her waist. There were always sounds around Capsule Corp. so Vegeta had learned to tune most of them out so that he could at least sleep in peace. There were also many strange smells left behind by the many and frequent visitors to the corporation. Vegeta then heard something from the first floor. He was sure that the noise came from the first level because of a distinct echo the surface of the floor created. Vegeta thought for a second, he was concerned as to why his son had never seemed overwhelmed by all of the sensory input he would receive by just being in the house. However, again he attributed it to the fact that Trunks was still very young, and he would one day ask the question that for some reason, Vegeta was dying to answer.

Vegeta continued in thought. Why did he wish someone understood what exactly it was like on planet vegeta? Sure there were a few of his kind left, but not one of them really knew what it was to be a saiyan. They were completely out of touch with their very essence, and horribly ignorant of their native customs. He continued to ponder these questions, when another sound came from the first floor. He opened his eyes and reached out with his senses to precisely identify this sound.

First, his incredibly accurate biological clock told him that it was 3:18 am. Second, he felt for ki; next to none, whoever it was, they were taking great care to be quiet. Third, he listened more closely to the sound it undoubtedly was someone walking. He estimated how much someone would have to weigh to produce that pitch and quantity of decibels; he concluded about 210 lbs, he also determined that they were about 6’0" tall, and judging from the time it took for the next foot step and the creaking in the floor determined by the angle and distance of the next footstep.

Vegeta was certain that this description did not fit anyone who was staying at Capsule Corp. presently. He continued to reach out with his senses, he enjoyed doing this exercise, he did it often as a child and he always liked the challenge of learning this skill. Although he mastered it, he still loved to do it, and often got the chance at Capsule Corp. because there were so many visitors. However, as Vegeta had already determined this was not one of the present visitors. He now turned to his sense of smell.

The person in question was certainly male, but Vegeta had already guessed that from the physical description. Whoever it was nervous, sweating, wearing cool water cologne, old spice deodorant and aftershave. ‘What an idiot,’ Vegeta thought to himself with a smirk. However, Vegeta smelled something else. There was someone with the person he was sensing before. The second person was standing doorway, this one was sweating even more.

Vegeta continued gathering information on the duo, noticing that they were becoming more comfortable in their surroundings. They were less committed to silence, or at least what they thought was sufficient for silence. They had gotten so loud that they were beginning to wake Bulma. Vegeta could feel her breathing change as he held her. She quickly sat up in bed, holding the covers under her chin, eyes wide in fear.

"Vegeta," she whispered frantically, "are you awake?"

"Yes," he said indifferently.

"I think I heard something."

"Oh yeah?" Vegeta humored himself.

"Yeah, down stairs."

"Wow" Vegeta said sarcastically.

Bulma was too afraid to notice his insulting tone. "Aren’t you going to go look?"

"No."

"Why not?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Because I’m tired." He had to hear what she would say to get him to go look.

"Well if you’re too coward to go, I will."

"Yes, you go, I’m too scared." He pulled the covers over his head, pretending to go back to sleep to see if she would indeed go and look herself.

Bulma sighed "fine wuss." She got out from under the covers, put her purple robe on, and tied it tightly around her waist as she walked out of their bedroom.

‘Yes, that is what I like about her, her reckless audacity,’ Vegeta thought to himself as he got out of bed after she started down the staircase. He knew that the person downstairs was a burglar; he also knew that burglars become desperate when they are caught and therefore act extremely. He knew this from his time on Freeza’s ship; he had heard that there were always robberies in the ‘common soldiers’ quarters.

Vegeta watched Bulma sneak behind the intruder with a vase. ‘A fucking vase,’ Vegeta laughed to himself, ‘she didn’t even take out the stupid flowers.’ She hit the man right over the head with the vase, shattering it into pieces. The man was stunned but to her surprise, was not really hurt. He quickly grabbed her, turned her around in his arms so that he was behind her, grabbed all of her hair in his palm, pulled her head back, and placed a knife she had not seen up to her throat. She shut her eyes and swallowed hard.

Bulma then heard Vegeta laughing from atop of the stairs looking down at the scene unfolding. He certainly thought this whole ordeal was funny but he didn’t like how hard the man pulled Bulma’s head back and that he was holding a knife to her fragile throat. However, he also knew that there was nothing this burglar could do to her with him standing right there.

During this, little Trunks had been lying in bed, he did hear the person, whoever it was down stairs, but decided that since he couldn’t feel his father doing anything about it, there must be no cause for concern. However, as he was drifting back to sleep he heard his mother get up and felt his father follow her. He thought that since both were out of bed, something must be up so he went to join them.

Trunks saw Vegeta from behind at the top of the staircase; he was looking down to the first floor laughing. Trunks walked to him and leaned on the bars that held the railing. He followed his father’s gaze to the bottom floor and saw his mother being held, head tilted back, by a man dressed in all black and holding a knife to her throat. Trunks felt his own anger rise.

Vegeta looked down at his son still laughing, he noticed Trunks’ increase in ki and was fairly pleased as it continued to grow. Then Vegeta started making his way slowly down the Capsule Corp. stairs. His gait was intimidating but it was so carefree. Trunks was in tow, obviously concerned about his mother’s well being.

Vegeta finally reached the bottom of the stairs; he stopped laughing, slowly turned to the man with the knife, crossed his arms, and smirked. Trunks stood right by him, his arms crossed over his chest as well, but a very serious scowl was etched in his features.

"I pity you, poor bastard," Bulma quietly whispered to her captor.

The man looked down at Bulma, eyes wide, but unconvinced.

"I have an idea," Vegeta started obviously amused, his eyes never leaving the man as he spoke, "Trunks, get that knife and bring it back to me."

The man looked down at Vegeta’s side to a little boy with lavender hair. He assumed that this was ‘Trunks’. "Ha, that kid cant even walk down stairs without holding on to the railing."

"Well neither will you be able to after I’m done with you." Vegeta said with a chuckle.

With that said, Trunks faded from Vegeta’s side and quickly reappeared. He dropped the knife in his father’s hand, which was held out. The man looked at his own hand, sure enough, no knife. He was horrified, and tried to hide himself behind Bulma.

Trunks was getting impatient, that asshole still had his mother. Therefore, he flew straight at him. Vegeta had not told him to go, and was disappointed that Trunks had made this mistake. His son had not considered the second man who was still hiding himself in the open doorway, Vegeta hadn’t acknowledged this second person on purpose, he was curious to see his role and it had become apparent. Vegeta noticed that the second man had a gun, when Trunks had jumped to quickly; he aimed his gun in panic right at Bulma and shot.

Vegeta faded from view and reappeared directly in front of his mate, catching the silver bullet between his thumb and index finger. He was pissed that that idiot would even attempt to do something so cowardly as shoot his mate, but he smirked regardless and crushed the bullet into a fine dust. He then calmly stalked towards the frozen gunman and gave him a light punch, or what he thought was light, sending the man flying out over the property. Vegeta then looked back over his should at his son who was having a field day.

Vegeta coughed, signaling Trunks to stop, which he quickly did. "You are fortunate that my son seems to have taken a liking to you, I don’t have to play with you after all," Vegeta continued with a smirk, slowly stalking over to the man, "but the boy has had enough fun, so out you go youngster." Vegeta took the man by the ear and flung him hard out the front door. He too, flew over the property but a little further. Vegeta shut the large, front door patting his hands together, seemingly wiping his hands clean of their inferior filth.

He gazed over to his son steadying his mate. He scowled. Bulma was near collapsing and Trunks walked her over to the couch which she flopped down on, and put the back of her wrist to her forehead, closed her eyes, and let out an exasperated sigh.

Bulma quickly opened her eyes but stayed in her exhausted position. She watched as Vegeta walked over to Trunks and lowered himself to one knee, he started scolding his son in the foreign saiyan language. Bulma felt bad for her son, as he looked down to the floor ashamed of himself. When Vegeta saw him start to lower his head, he quickly put his hand under his chin and lifted it back up as he continued his scolding.

Bulma assumed he was getting chewed out because Trunks overlooked the man with the gun, but of course, she would never know for certain. What she did know is that Vegeta detested when Trunks would avoid eye contact. He never tolerated that and because of this, he would get it from Vegeta even worse.

She continued listening to Vegeta give it to Trunks, but then his tone changed a bit. She looked over to them. Vegeta’s expression had not really changed but Trunks’ had dramatically. ‘A least Vegeta chose to end it on a good note,’ she thought to herself. He dismissed Trunks with a slight nod. Vegeta then walked over to her, helped her to her feet and walked with her up stairs, helped her into bed, and lay down himself. Without a word from either of them, they feel asleep.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, Bulma’s alarm clock rang; it was 7:00 in the morning. She looked to her side for Vegeta, but not surprisingly, he was gone. She doubted that he ever was truly asleep. She got up, made breakfast, ate with Trunks (Vegeta ate by himself of a morning), and got ready for her interview.

Meanwhile, at the Son house, Gohan was wide-awake. He started his day as usual with an early jog, which Goten saw him off to, waving his chubby little arm as his older brother disappeared into the distance. After, he ate breakfast with his family and then off to his special classes, which went from 7:00 am until 11:00 am. He liked these times because it left him the entire day to himself. However, today Gohan was a bit nervous, after all, he was going to interview Vegeta today. That meant that he was going to be alone with him for quite some time, and Vegeta rarely showed any interest in conversation.

It soon was 11:30 so Gohan reminded his father it was time to leave, because Kame knows he had to be reminded. Goku said goodbye to Chi-Chi, and then told Goten that he was going to bring back someone for him to play with. With that the two were off, headed towards Capsule Corp.

"Mom, where’s Goku?" demanded Trunks.

"He’s on his w…."

"Such obvious inpatients is not becoming," Vegeta interrupted, "just search for his ki signature like I taught you."

"But its so hard." Sighed Trunks.

"Non-sense! I learned it very quickly, just by observation and besides its necessary, so practice now." Vegeta paused. "So tell me how far away Kakcarrott is."

Trunks closed his blue eyes and concentrated on looking for ki. He was obviously struggling to differentiate Goku’s from the other signatures he felt.

"Well feel for the stupid one." Vegeta said half irritated and half amused. Bulma gave him a playful slap across his shoulder.

"I found him!" Trunks yelled cheerfully, seeming not to notice that his father’s comment would have been considered rude. He had found it helpful. Trunks then quickly remembered that he was suppose to say how long, if he had forgotten this, his father would have been seriously agitated. "About 15 minutes."

"’Abouts’ are useless boy, give me the real time." Vegeta said calmly.

"14 minutes." Trunks replied, hoping he sounded confident.

"12 minutes. I see you need more work with this." Vegeta smirked at a sighing Trunks.

{12 minutes later}

Bulma unlocked the front door (she was keeping that baby locked from now on) and opened it to see Goku and Gohan standing in the doorway. "Hey! Come on in guys!" she said excitedly, Trunks standing right by her side.

They each said their hellos and Bulma quickly asked Gohan about school. As they were carrying on, Vegeta, unnoticed, stood in the doorway separating the front room from the kitchen. "Oh shut up already, you all see each other too much as is."

"Oh hey Vegeta," Goku replied kindly.

"Hey yourself Kakcarrott. Lets just trade the brats so that you can be on your way."

They did just that. Gohan watched uncomfortably as Goku and Trunks flew off together in the direction of his home. He swallowed and looked over at Vegeta who had not moved.

"Well Gohan," Bulma started, "are you hungry, Vegeta usually eats around this time."

"Yes he’s hungry, serve us now!!" Vegeta did not let Gohan respond.

Bulma glared at him, but she saw an expression that so clearly said that he was not in any mood to be messed with right now. She thought to challenge him for a moment, but he sternly reminded her through the bond that it was she who got him into this situation in the first place. She laughed to herself, it certainly was.

The two sat at the kitchen table. Gohan put a tape recorder and a yellow pad of paper with some handwritten notes on it to the side. Bulma brought out lunch witch was order out Thai food: chicken curry with green beans, pae-tai noodles, shrimp fried rice, and some kind of other spicy soup that Vegeta liked. She knew that Vegeta liked spicy food, and Thai seemed to be his favorite. In addition to this, he had Thai iced tea. The two saiyans broke apart their chopsticks and began eating. "When are we going to start?" Gohan hesitated but was excited nonetheless.

"Your time here today will be the same as your father’s. After this, we are going to spar, then take a break. During the break, I’ll answer your questions, and finally, we will spar once more before you leave."

"Uhhh??!!" Gohan questioned. Vegeta glared at him.

"Well, may I have a change of clothing?"

"Fine."

"And could I…."

"Enough talking, I’m eating." Vegeta interrupted.

Gohan began to eat as well. However, he did not just dig in as his father; instead he placed his napkin on his lap, calmly picked up the food in his chop sticks, and placed the contents in his mouth without dropping or flinging it everywhere. ‘Perhaps there’s hope for this one yet,’ Vegeta thought to himself.

Goku touched down on his front porch, shortly followed by Trunks. Goku had offered to carry him, but Trunks refused and flew the whole way keeping up with his father’s sworn rival as best as he could.

Trunks looked through the open window at a boy with black hair, sitting down at a table. He did not yet notice the two outside, ‘obviously,’ Trunks thought to himself, ‘he has not yet learned to sense ki. Great, just my luck. I am suppose to be training with him?’ However, suddenly Trunks’ opinion changed. The boy, although unfortunately for him had the same clueless appearance as his father, he also had an innocents which was hard to resist. ‘I may have more fun with him than I thought.’

Gohan came out of the bathroom in Vegeta’s navy blue sweat pants and a red tank top. He walked to the back door and let himself out. He noticed Vegeta beginning to warm up and decided to do the same. ‘If this is what it takes to get the primo interview, then so be it.’

Both saiyans got into a fighting stance after their brief warm up. Vegeta started off, racing right towards Gohan. The younger saiyan moved quickly, avoiding the deep punch, and put his knee up for Vegeta to run into. However, Vegeta had set this up, he blocked the knee to his solar plexus and flipped, giving Gohan a kick to the ribs. The half saiyan staggered back.

"You maybe powerful boy," Vegeta smirked, "but you lack my experience."

Gohan composed himself and quickly flew at Vegeta, flaring into a super saiyan.

Vegeta’s smirk grew, "So you want to play it that way huhh." A flash of light, and he was a super saiyan as well.

Gohan and Vegeta traded punches and kicks for a couple more hours. Both were growing tired. So far, their session had been rather intense, most likely because the two rarely sparred one another. They stopped when they noticed that the sun was setting. Gohan really liked sparring Vegeta; he came up with some of the most creative moves and combinations. Vegeta was pleased with Gohan as well. It was nice to have variety, although the boy did not have the fighting experience that Kakcarrott did to make his motions unpredictable and set up strategies. However, he did have the power to give a good go.

The two saiyans got some drinks out of the refrigerator; Gohan got his notes and recorder and went to the usual spot on the roof. Gohan watched as Vegeta laid back and put his hands behind his head, gazing out towards the darkening sky. Gohan sat down cross-legged beside him. "May we started now?" he asked cautiously. Vegeta replied with a slight nod.

Gohan turned on the tape recorder and placed it to the side; he then picked up his notes and read the first two questions: what is your name and where are you from? ‘What was I thinking?! Stupid questions like these will only piss him off, I best skip those,’ he thought nervously.

"How long do you expect me to wait for the fucking question?" an irritated Vegeta asked.

"I don’t know how to exactly begin." Gohan sheepishly admitted.

"Well, skip the polite inquiries and get straight to the point."

"Okay, where exactly was planet vegeta?"

"Lean back and I will show you." Vegeta replied in a much more agreeable tone.

Gohan did as he said and lay on the roof, he then put his hands behind his head just like Vegeta and patiently waited for him to continue.

"You can use the constellation of ‘Orion’ to help yourself find its former location, but more specifically his sword."

Vegeta continued to name off more stars to lead precisely to the where the planet use to be. Gohan listened in amazement; he would have never guessed that Vegeta had that much knowledge of the earth’s star names and constellations. Finally, he came to the exact location.

"…And when you see that void, the absence of light, you have found where planet vegeta use to be."

Starring up at the sky, Gohan did indeed see the void Vegeta was speaking of. A strange feeling overcame him, one he would never be able to fully describe. He felt as if his powerful heritage had been confirmed. Half of his very being had come from that place, and although it was gone, looking in its direction brought forth a comfort. He let out a sigh, and the two saiyans looked on in silence.

Goku noticed the sun setting on the horizon. "Okay guys, I think its time to end it for today." Trunks and Goten immediately ended their sparring session. ‘Trunks was undoubtedly the better fighter, but I think both benefited from today,’ Goku thought to himself. "We better get going home, dinner will get cold if we don’t." With that, the three saiyans blasted into the sky.

‘This is much more easy than I thought it was going to be,’ Gohan thought to himself. After he started again with the questions, Vegeta had become less agitated.

"What did you do on planet vegeta?"

Vegeta looked over at Gohan who was still starring into space. These were the questions that Vegeta had wanted to be asked. It had been maddening that none of the saiyans on earth had expressed much interest in their native land, and now someone of his kin was curious.

"On a normal day, I would train. Besides that, I also had schooling of sorts."

"I didn’t think that a prince would have to go to school."

"Of course I never went to school," Vegeta snapped, but quickly returned to his previous tone, "I received private instruction, by the most educated person in the particular field of my choice."

"What subjects did you choose?"

"Usually language, so that I could always understand what those bastardly off-worlders were saying in the meetings held on our planet. I hated to ever depend on a translator."

"How many languages can you speak now?"

Vegeta paused for a moment, "eighty-seven."

"Wow! Did you live in a palace?" Gohan asked excitedly. He had completely abandoned his notes and was carrying on, what seemed like, a regular conversation with the prince.

"Of course."

"Was it like any on the earth?"

"It was larger than those of the earth, as we were the only royal family, unlike here where there are several. It was also more lavishly decorated; but we also had rooms that were solely for training."

"How was your government run?"

"There was none of this voting, democracy crap. What the king said went, and when he was away, my word took his place. Our family was in no way a figurehead."

"…And here is your plate Trunks," Chi-Chi said as she handed Trunks his diner, after Goku and Goten had gotten theirs.

Trunks took the large plate, completely filled to the rim with delicious smelling food. "Well, aren’t you going to say thank you?"

"No," Trunks replied as if that was a peculiar question and walked to the table.

‘I suppose he has too much of his father in him after all,’ Chi-Chi thought to herself.

As she watched the three saiyans eat at the table. She noticed how Trunks had much better table manners than her son did, and certainly better than her husband. He put his napkin on his lap, took his bites slowly, and actually chewed in between. ‘At least along with the rudeness came the dignity,’ she thought.

However, Trunks could not believe his eyes. This was the most disgraceful display presented to him yet. The other two saiyans’ behavior at the table was appalling at best. Now he understood why his father refused to tolerate any defiance while eating.

"So you were accustomed to royal treatment on your planet; did that at all change when you were with Freeza?" Gohan asked cautiously while looking over at Vegeta.

Vegeta gritted his teeth; "The other men on the ship gave me the same treatment I had had previously for fear that I would blast them to hell if they didn’t. And that bastard Freeza, favored me, but I always had to answer to him. In a way, it wasn’t much different than taking orders from my father."

"Did you like your father?"

‘The boy is getting personal,’ Vegeta thought, ‘how dare he express the audacity to ask these questions of me. I’ll answer a few more, I’m curious to see just how far he will go.’

"It wasn’t a relationship of admiration, or liking, it was one of respect."

"How could that be?"

"You aren’t capable of understanding saiyan customs and ideals. Emotions on this planet have too much place, far more in fact, than on vegeta." The prince replied. His words sounded a bit harsh, but his tone was still inviting to Gohan.

"I see. Have you found it at all difficult to adjust to life on earth?"

Vegeta gritted his teeth even more. "What do you think boy? I have endured more changes and unexpectancies than anyone else. I have lived on many planets, ruled them even, faced adversity my entire life. I am geared to adapt to any environment that I am presented. Do you honestly think that my stay on this mild planet could affect me in the slightest way?" Vegeta’s anger was apparent as he spat the words.

"Well I…I thought."

"That’s the problem kid, you thought." Vegeta sighed as Gohan remained dead silent, and to the latter’s surprise he continued. "Yes. Being here is the most complicated and maddening challenge I have faced yet."

Gohan remained silent. He obviously had hit a nerve but he prayed to Kame that the prince would continue to explain his last remark.

"As the prince," Vegeta continued calmly to Gohan’s delight, "what were perceived as small details in our beliefs were dealt with for me, I never had to think of them."

"What would be considered a small detail?"

"Mating, and caring for an offspring."

"How could that be considered small?" Gohan asked obviously offended by the nonchalant answer, "that is of the most significance!"

"Only here!" Vegeta spat quickly. "Only on this god-forsaken planet would I, the prince of all saiyans, have to deal with a mate and offspring intimately." Admitting to that made him ill.

"But aren’t you happy that you have a family that you can know and be with?"

"How? My mate is weak. My son has fucking pink hair, he could hardly pass for a saiyan, and he doesn’t even act like one!" He answered irritated.

"That’s not true," Gohan started a defense, "Bulma is one of the most powerful people on this world. She is brilliant and charismatic. Trunks is not only strong for his age, but he is intelligent and already shows enormous potential. There is no way your family could ever be perceived as weak, even at saiyan standards."

Vegeta knew the younger saiyan was speaking the truth. He had always known that his mate was of high class, and that his son was a prodigy of power. Why couldn’t he admit this whole-heartedly, why was it so difficult for him to credit these two? Vegeta breathed in and out slowly and calmed down, for the first time he looked over at Gohan who was red with anger that Vegeta could belittle the two. Then he smiled, ‘an actual smile’ Gohan noted.

"You’re actually right kid," an eased Vegeta started, "those two are impressive at times."

Gohan eased up as well. Vegeta was actually complimenting them. "Well, doesn’t it give you pleasure to know them?"

Vegeta returned his gaze to the sky, and after a moment began to speak, "I could have had anything I wanted, I could have ruled the universe. The possibilities that my power and my position gave me are limitless. The destinies I could choose from, all immense and near unfathomable to you. However, I stay here."

Gohan was shocked at the truth that he had overlooked. He had never weighed what Vegeta had sacrificed to stay on the earth, and he patiently waited for the prince to continue.

"I don’t know what it is that keeps me here. I would never have to deal with being spoken back to by my mate, never have a son who clung to my pants as I walk around my house, and never be intruded by some brat’s endless questions," he said with a comforting smirk to the boy next to him. "But all of these things that I deal with now, I could never again do without."

Gohan was speechless. He didn’t expect the saiyan prince to ever say this, but he managed a question he couldn’t believe he uttered once he heard it leave his lips. "Vegeta, do you love your family?"

Vegeta was taken aback by this question, but the moment consumed him. "The language I speak and think in has no word for ‘love,’ but the closest word would be ‘nynethm’ which would translate best into something that one is loyal to by choice, and not by obligation." He replied with a softness to his features.

‘He does love them,’ Gohan thought. "Vegeta, I know that you have taught Trunks to speak in the native saiyan tongue, will you teach me too." He asked nervously.

Vegeta looked from the sky to the boy beside him. This brat had caused him a lot of trouble in the past, but now he was taking an interest in his heritage. His rival’s son had lifted a great burden from him, and now that he wanted to learn his rightful language; the best way of communication in Vegeta’s opinion, he was fine with teaching another of the saiyans. "Fine, you will learn it the same way my son did. While we trained."

Gohan was happy with the answer, and with that, the two saiyans blasted into the night sky and began the third part of the deal. Sparring after the interview.

Trunks played with Goten in his room. While he certainly had better toys at his own house, his new playmate was more valuable to him. Kakca…oh, Goku’s kid was great, he had an enthusiasm that was difficult to resist. Nowhere else had Trunks experienced someone so carefree. Just then, Chi-Chi walked into the room.

"Trunks," she began "it looks as though Gohan and Vegeta are taking longer than we expected, so your mother just called to ask us if you could spend the night here; I told her that it was fine of course. Well, it looks as though you two will have quite a bit longer to play. However, bedtime is soon so start to wrap it up."

Trunks was going to curse her for being stupid and not realizing her own contradiction, but decided against it. He didn’t want his mother to hear of it or else there would be hell to pay, so he cursed in saiyan to himself quietly for being told what to do.

"What did you say?" asked Goten.

"I said ‘bprioryi’" Trunks responded gritting his teeth. The resemblance to his father was frightening.

"Well, what does it mean?"

"An imbecile, such as yourself could never understand." Trunks replied, half serious and half jokingly.

Goten glared at him sternly.

"It’s a pity that you don’t know how to speak your own language," continued Trunks.

"Then, teach me," Goten said in that irresistible tone that Trunks had come to admire most about him.

"Fine" said the purple haired boy with a tone that his father would have used to look as if he was not at all amused or half excited as the other.

It was getting very late, or very early Bulma thought. ‘Perhaps I should go out and tell those two what time it is.’ She walked over to her window and her blue eyes peered out into the darkness. She couldn’t actually see either of them, however, she could see the light given off from the occasional hard impacts. Every so often, one would fall from the sky, towards the earth, but stop themselves before they hit, and fly right back up to continue. She decided against interfering with their session at all. Vegeta was in a good mood, she could feel it.

Just then, the two saiyans were visible by the back porch. Gohan was out of breath but he was also smiling; Vegeta was tired but chose not to pant and slung a towel over his shoulder, he looked somewhat content Bulma noted as they walked in through the door, and she hurried down to meet them.

As she reached the bottom of the steps, she heard them speaking to each other in the saiyan’s language. She walked into the kitchen, announcing her presence. "Gohan, I called your mom for you, and told her that since you two weren’t done yet, that you should just spend the night here, Trunks stay over there, and Goku come make the switch tomorrow, sound good?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine. Thanks Bulma."

"Well, get showed up kid, I made your bed in your favorite guest bedroom here, and left you some clean sleeping cloths."

The bedroom was one that they usually saved for very important people that were visiting them on business, but also close enough with the Briefs that they would insist that the visitors not stay in any hotel. It was very lavish: a king size bed that Bulma made with red and light yellow silk sheets and comforters, a bathtub that looked over the city from one of the best spots in Capsule Corp., and his favorite attribute, one of the largest televisions imaginable.

"Hey, that’s great! Goodnight Bulma and hythrmc Vegeta."

The prince nodded and Gohan vanished up the stairs.

Bulma looked to Vegeta, "are you coming to bed now?"

"In a moment," he replied as he walked out the same door he just walked in.

Vegeta sat down, by himself, at a swinging bench, which was hanging from one of the larger trees on the grounds. His feet were apart as he gently pushed the bench back and forth. He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed upward, thinking about what he had said earlier; about him having just about any destiny he wanted. He then directed his gaze to his immediate surroundings. He lived on the earth, with his family! The words were unbelievable even to him. He thought about it further. Everyone in his life now, was there because they wanted to be. That idiot Kakcarrott came over because he wanted to, not because he would be killed if he did not obey his prince. The idiot’s son was permitted to be free with his words because there was no social protocol that he was forced to adhere to. His own son chose to obey his word, not because he was an heir to the thrown, but because he had genuine respect for his father. Finally, his mate was loyal to him because she wanted to be, not because she was threatened. The prince sighed, he had indeed told Gohan the truth. Although the boy was obviously impressed with what Vegeta had once had, Vegeta knew better. What he had here was so much more. He decided that while he still would look at where his home planet formally lay, he would not long for it. He was granted a destiny far better than he thought he deserved right on earth.

Vegeta got up from his spot and walked over to his outdoor shower, which Bulma installed for him. She had never expected him to use it completely nude, and she was certainly surprised when he did. He never would understand why humans were so ashamed of their bodies and why they respected such values as ‘modesty’, another word that cannot be directly translated into the saiyan language.

He wrestled with his wet clothing and finally pried it all off. He turned on the shower and let the steaming water drench his aching skin. The breeze quietly sailed past him occasionally and he welcomed it, it was the best part of taking outdoor showers.

Bulma looked down to him from her window, she had purposely put that shower where she could see it from her room, as she installed it before they had ‘gotten together’ at his request. She noticed how the darkness played with his features. He truly was one with the night, it seemed to welcome him. The small amount of light admitted during the evenings seemed to always be concentrated around him, Bulma noticed, as if he were some sort of god, gracing this planet with his presence. She continued to watch him, everything that made contact with him glistened unnaturally bright. The water and even the soapsuds radiated upon him as if it were alive; he enlivened all of her senses as she starred at him.

She was taken from her trance when she saw him turn off the water, and the faint hissing sound ceased. She quickly rushed into bed, picked up a book and pretended to read. Finally, he entered the bedroom without any warning. He never has made a sound when he walked she observed. He came in with a white towel around his waist and one around his neck. "Pervert," he said in an I-caught-you-so-don’t-even-try-to-get-out-of-this-tone.

"What are you talking about Vegeta?" Bulma said looking over the cover of her book defensively, although she knew she was caught.

He smiled in response as he put on his boxers, and sat on the bed, giving her a view of his profile.

"I really don’t know what you are trying to get at Vegeta," she said attempting to sound convincing.

He smiled a bit wider she saw from his side.

She had to come clean, and she knew it. "Fine," she said irritated and dropped her book loudly on the floor, "how did you see?"

"Because," he started in his cocky tone loosing the smile, "I’m always watching," he turned to face her and smirked, "You."

Her heart fluttered, she was so in love with him it was unbelievable. He had a power over her that she could never understand. She moved over to him and hugged him as hard as she could. Although this package came with so many uncertainties, he brought her so much joy.

Gohan awoke the next morning to a brilliant sunrise that could be seen clearly through his windowed room in Capsule Corp. He recalled last night as he stretched and yawned, then realized that while he got his interview, he never really wrote anything down. His heart jumped. He dashed over to the computer in the corner of his room, turned it on, started to rewind the tape that had his and Vegeta’s voice recorded, and began typing. He looked to the clock and realized that he still had a couple of hours until the paper was due and continued to type. All of the sudden he was interrupted by a booming voice from downstairs.

"Woman! Where is my breakfast?"

"I’m getting it ready Ve-ge-ta!" came the response from a very irritated Bulma.

"Well, hurry up. I do have things to do you know!"

Just then, Gohan heard footsteps outside his door. ‘Please don’t be Vegeta,’ Gohan thought to himself. He didn’t know why, but seeing the saiyan prince right now, after hearing him yell was frightening. There was a knock on the door. ‘Whew! Vegeta wouldn’t knock on the door,’ "Come in," he said.

Bulma cracked open the door, "Good mourning, breakfast will be ready in a minute so come down when you are ready." She said very softly, completely different from how she responded to Vegeta only seconds ago.

"Thanks Bulma!" was the reply. She shut the door behind her, and quickened his pace at the keyboard.

After an enjoyable breakfast with Bulma only, the woman walked Gohan to the front door to see him off. As the boy reached the door, he looked back at Vegeta who was standing in the doorway of the opposite room. Gohan picked up his hand and waved goodbye. Vegeta nodded, turned his back, and walked out.

"Thanks again Bulma for having me over."

"Oh no kid, thank you!" Bulma replied enthusiastically as she started to explain, "Whatever you and Vegeta talked about certainly put him in a good mood; or at least, less of a bad mood," she ended in a contemplative tone.

Gohan smiled and took off towards school as Bulma shouted her goodbyes.

A week had passed, and Bulma decided that it was time to have a small get-together at Capsule Corp. She invited every one of earth’s defenders. Krillen, #18, Mater Roshi, Yamcha, Tien, Chosu, Oolong, Puar, and the entire Son family all came. It was great fun! They had barbeque and all kinds of other good food under the warm sunshine. Everyone was enjoying himself or herself even Vegeta didn’t looked pissed.

Gohan approached Vegeta, he wanted to thank him again and tell him that he got an A on his project. He started in the saiyan language as best as he could. Vegeta gave a quick response back, and upon hearing this, Trunks ran over and began conversation with Gohan in the language, quickly followed by Goten. The four saiyans spoke together, detached from the rest of the party. Trunks was speaking the most since he knew the language better than everyone else excluding Vegeta who would make an occasional comment when asked something.

Goku looked over his huge plate of stacked food at the scene occurring at the corner of the grounds. He got up and curiously walked over. When he got within a range that confirmed he did not understand anything being said he stopped, put one hand behind his head, a confused look on his face, and said "Hey guys! What are you all talking about?"

The four saiyans paused; Vegeta gave a deep scowl and muttered to himself with clenched fists ‘stupid ass Kakcarrott.’ The other three looked back and forth at the two older saiyans and laughed.