This story takes place many years after DBGT, but GT never happened. So Take the end of the Buu saga, and then add about 40 years, and you'll have your time setting. This is an insight into the relationships Goku and Vegeta had with their wives and families, and how the future might have played out for them. Keep in mind, Goku is still on Earth, never having left with the dragon.

So, I hope you enjoy this fic. Please be ready to get really, really sad.

Coming Clean

Chapter One - Heartstrings

Dim fluorescent lights cast deep shadows across Vegeta's face. He sat slumped forward in his chair, both of his bulky hands outstretched to grasp their slender reflections. Her hands felt like dainty petals in his massive grip. Gazing down at her hollow features, the prince wondered if this was the same woman who had filled his chest with the fire of her scrappy attitude and then doused him with her wit for so many years. Life had been a constant battle with this woman. But to his surprise, Vegeta found himself rising every morning, more ready and willing each day to go into war than he had been the last.

He was the prince of all saiyans. He was the sole fear of people throughout the universe. He was a terrifyingly powerful force to everyone and everything he had ever encountered. Or so he had thought, until he met her. With an energy level that was barely on the charts and a body that was fragile at best, she had taken it upon herself to become his greatest adversary.

"Why aren't you fighting anymore?" he whispered ever so softly into her ear. It seemed to him that she had just given up. Desperately, he tried to reach her. He wanted her to do anything possible to survive; to live on; to stay...with him. With no response, though, he felt his hope diminishing and his urgency growing. His eyes pleaded with her unresponsive face.

Then suddenly, there was a glimmer of hope. He could see her eyes begin to flutter, and her lips purse in effort. And her eyes were open. And she looked at him. And he wept inside.

But the only thing that she saw on his face was the shimmer of a droplet, glistening in his eye. Just for an instant, and then it was gone. His raspy voice came down to kiss her ears, and she listened to the only thing in the world that mattered. "Please don't go."

All the energy she had left went into turning her face to look at him, and for the millionth time that day, Vegeta had to reflect back upon what had happened before. In an effort to help his struggling wife, Vegeta had given her a small portion of his energy, thinking it would help her to heal. Unfortunately, it had resulted in half an hour of resuscitation, and a thousand years of guilt on his part. So he was forced to sit by and watch as she expended all the strength she had to keep her eyes locked on his.

He repeated his plea, thinking that perhaps if he could communicate the gravity of the situation to her, she would understand. "Please, stay with me."

All that he received for his efforts was a tiny smile. She silently gazed up at him, knowing what was to come, and wishing that she could change the fates. They sat together, listening to the sounds of the machines in the room, both trying to forget that they were the only things keeping her alive. And when the time finally came, she opened her lips and prayed that her eyes would speak for her what she could never hope to say in the little time they had left. She told him the only thing that would ever matter to either of them. "I love you, Vegeta."

His voice hitched in his throat and he tried his best not to blink back the moisture gathering in his eyes, so that he would take in every movement of her face. Every line told a story that he never wanted to forget. Each argument, each passionate night of reconciliation, each fit of joy they had experienced together, and each moment of sorrow they had shared. When the heiress and the prince became parents, they had experienced lower lows and higher highs of emotion than either of them had ever previously thought possible.

But even after their children had grown, and after they had the house to themselves once more, the bond remained strong between them. No one else could ever possibly hope to understand their journey of love, and the story would be one that could never be properly told to anyone. Except that right now Vegeta was hearing, and seeing and smelling and touching that story. Their love was alive in her, and he understood that the story was coming to a close.

His fingers traced down the side of her face, stroking her like a precious doll. They entwined themselves in her beautiful hair, and dropped down again to caress her velvet-smooth skin. Vegeta couldn't bring himself to say anything, because he knew that when he did, she would know that she could leave. So he repeated his strokes, and brought his face as close as he possibly could to her hair, taking in her faint scent and trying his best to keep every memory alive.

He couldn't imagine life without her. It seemed to him that so many years ago when he had first come to Earth was the real beginning of his life. Everything before Namek seemed so vague and ridiculous now. He couldn't understand how that person who had wanted nothing more than destructive power could possibly be him. It was as if the first day he had spent on Earth was the real beginning of his life. And she was the catalyst to his life here. She was the person who made him who he truly should have been all along.

Suddenly he was overcome by the feeling of guilt. She had given him a new life and made him a better version of himself. And what had he given her in return?

He brought his eyes up again to meet hers, and as she looked at him, he realized that he had given her the fire that she had always needed to keep her sane. They were made for each other, and even as he thought about the husband and father he could have been for her, he understood that he was the husband and father that she needed him to be.

Just then, her lips tugged themselves into an upward curve, and he knew that this was her signal. Vegeta felt his heart begin to race, pumping faster and faster with the panic of her leaving, and he tried to raise his eyebrows in what could almost be called puppy-dog eyes as he attempted to get her to change her mind. But she was exhausted, and as he snaked his arm around her back, lifting her just slightly from the bed and pulling her to him, he heard her whisper those same words. "I love you, Vegeta."

And he touched his forehead to hers, their eyes inches apart, and her final breath gracing his cheeks. He lost the battle with himself, and a single tear streamed down his face as he placed a hand at the back of her head, trying to keep her as close as he could.

"I love you, Bulma."

Reviews are awesome. They make my world go 'round.