hi! first dbz fanfic i have ever written, so hopefully it's pretty close to being in character/aligning with the story. hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: i don't own dbz, though that would be awesome.

This Time Around

He could make up any sort of excuse in his head, but none of them stuck. They must have been especially terrible, since usually he would have accepted any sort of reason to avoid the fact that he might have those feelings. Things like that were unacceptable. He was raised to be vacant, feeling nothing but the sheer pleasure of death at his hands.

He shouldn't have blinked when he died. He shouldn't have felt anything, except maybe admiration for the brutality of the attack. But watching that flash of light, radiating across the barren landscape and landing squarely in his son's chest, the emptiness he was trained to feel left. In its absence was just pure fury, undeniable rage. He watched his son's body lie broken on the ground, shattered as he weakly coughed up a puddle of blood. And it seemed at that moment his own body just completely snapped.

The transformation he had yearned for his entire life never came easier. As he raced towards the monster, his hair a glowing yellow and his eyes suddenly green, he knew the only thing he wanted to do was kill the bastard. That monster had wronged him in a way he never thought possible, and he would rather go back to Hell than let him get away with it.

And he was close to going back too, if it weren't for the fighters surprisingly defending him now. He wouldn't have minded so much, dying that is, if it would be for the vengeance of his son. Maybe he would even get to see him in the afterlife. But he quickly shook that thought off. There was no way he'd end up in the same place as that brat.

As he watched Cell die under the shining light of the half-breed's attack, he couldn't help but think about how angry he should be. This child had ascended past him, to a level of Super Saiyan that no one else had reached in the history of his entire race. He should have been destroyed, his pride broken. The Prince of all Saiyans being surpassed by a boy? It was embarrassing, torturous, but his mind didn't seem to be at all bothered.

For once, he was just happy for it to be over. This small, insignificant pile of dirt was saved. And he wondered why he ever cared.

"Gohan!"

They ran to see if the boy was okay. Of course he is. He remained planted in his spot in the air, crossing his arms and letting the blood from his wounds continue to fall on the ground. He hadn't shed enough, not compared to that low class Kakarot or his son.

Or my son.

His dark eyes flashed to the ground, the dust sweeping past his feet though the air. His head turned as the others finally went over to where Trunks lied completely motionless. His ki was gone, and he knew he was dead.

"Vegeta!"

What did they think he wanted to do? He turned his head to face the short bald man and the other weaklings, but made no response. The Namekian was just staring at him. He didn't need their help. He didn't need anyone. Just take him to the damn Lookout already!

The three eyed one finally picked him up and left. The Namekian stayed behind, however, still expecting something.

"It was brave what you did."

"Hmph. No need for applause."

It was necessary if he wanted this world to be saved, though he still couldn't think of a reason why that would be of any significance to him. What had happened to the Saiyan Prince, the strongest Saiyan in the world, hell bent on watching this planet burn? His fire of destruction seemed to have died with Frieza, and ever since, he couldn't have felt more helpless. His power seemed to be worthless, meaningless. And now that Kakarot was dead, he didn't even have a chance to prove himself anymore.

He no longer felt like a warrior. But if he wasn't that, what was he?

A prince of a dead race? An alien stranded in his own, mundane hell? A father?

He curled his lips in practical disgust. What would even make him think of that? The kind of father he was is exactly what he expected- perpetually absent. But it was better than his own father, who let his son's childhood die in the hands of -

Vegeta let his feet touch the ground, suddenly feeling as if his ki would give out. His eyebrows knitted together in utter frustration.

He was no better. He just stood as his son's chest was torn open. He was letting his current son live on, but just barely. That boy was a Saiyan prince who would never know anything about his people except for the most likely exaggerated ramblings of his mother.

Is that why he was back here?

It was dark on this side of the world, and he wondered if anyone in Capsule Corp. was awake. He had hoped not. He couldn't really figure out why he was here, let alone explain it to someone else. The security on this property was dismal. Vegeta easily pushed the window open to the room, flying inside completely unnoticed by anyone except for the little baby in the room.

The older prince walked over to the crib, resting his hands at his side and breathing slightly easier. Trunks slowly woke, and for a second, seemed as if he wanted to cry until the recognition of the figure finally came. It surprised Vegeta a little to see the tiny baby smile at his presence. He had never really induced a smile out of anyone before, only fear and cries.

He had seen those blue eyes in a dozen of ways. The first time being on Trunks' mother. They were once so afraid to see him, but now her eyes had a totally different depth to them. But that was a part of his life he never really liked to think about. Bulma stirred a whole different set of emotions that derailed him to no end.

And now he saw those eyes, sparkling blue with a surprising amount of intellect, reflected in his son. The baby reached his hand out, directing it towards his father, but Vegeta just stared back. Breathing was easier now as the thought hit him.

"Vegeta?"

His muscles tensed and calmed all in the span of 5 seconds when he heard her voice. Her presence alone had a weird effect on him. This woman had the capacity to annoy him to no end, but at the same time, she was the only person on this planet he could actually bear to be around. And considering how he had treated his partners when he worked for Frieza, she was probably the only person ever. She was so close to him now, her ki feeling incredibly warm despite its small size.

He half-expected her to reach for his shoulders like she used to, rubbing his back and making him close his eyes under her delicate touch. But she didn't, and Vegeta found himself cursing for even remembering those moments. "You're okay."

Thoughts of the future for some unknown reason came to him. He wondered if that Bulma had cried, knowing that he had died under the Androids' pursuit. Did she wait up for him that night, expecting him to return to their son and be a family? Did she even care when he was blasted back to Hell?

"Where's Trunks?"

Vegeta's fists clenched, not really thinking he'd ever have to explain that. So he offered no explanation, just the flat truth. "He's dead."

Now he expected the tears, but all she did was walk over next to him, placing her hands on the edge of the crib. "It's okay. We have the dragon balls."

"Kakarot's also dead." He knew that the Earth's balls weren't like the Namekian's. Goku had already been wished back once and wouldn't be offered the same chance again.

He felt Bulma's ki flicker at the sentence, and she seemed to immediately pale. Vegeta knew that they were close, but didn't exactly know the full extent of their relationship together. Bulma said she had known him since she was sixteen years old. They used to travel the world together looking for those same magical balls that brought him here. Those blasted things. She still wore the initial shock on her face, even though her voice sounded reasonably calm. "Poor Chi-chi and Gohan."

"Hmph."

Both of their eyes were still directed on Trunks', who was still smiling despite the overall somber mood encompassing the room. The little baby was blowing spit bubbles, laughing as he popped them in his tiny mouth.

"So why are you here?"

The inevitable question that he still couldn't answer. He just watched the child wiggle around, the pale blue blanket falling off his chubby legs. The small fluff of purple hair could be seen popping out of his tiny blue hat, and Vegeta wondered how he could ever produce an offspring with such a ridiculous hair color. "He's still alive."

He didn't cringe when Bulma's hand moved over to his. Her fingers rubbed the dried blood off of his knuckles, feeling so smooth against his calloused skin. He had to force himself from sighing from her touch. The control this woman had over him was inexcusable, but he felt his body react nevertheless. It was a weakness he was almost coming to terms with. "And what does that mean?"

She was smirking; that stupid woman knew exactly what he meant. Vegeta took his hand away from her grip. "I plan to keep him that way."

He immediately regretted turning his attention away from Trunks and to Bulma, who's smile put him immediately on edge. Vegeta stepped back from the crib and her. "But don't get any ideas, woman. I don't intend to be a family."

"I never expected that."

He was disgusted by the fact that he felt insulted. "What do you mean by that?"

Bulma shrugged, picking up Trunks and rocking him back and forth in her arms. "You're not exactly the family man type of guy, Vegeta. I'm surprised you came back at all."

Vegeta felt his temper flare. How dare she talk to me like this? "You have no right, woman, to even imply—"

"So you do then? Want a family?" Bulma raised an eyebrow, letting her voice rise but trying hard not to disturb Trunks. When Vegeta didn't respond, she just shook her head. "I don't want us to fight. I just want Trunks' to know his father."

He had nothing to say to that either, mostly because all he wanted to do was agree. She had managed to point all of his thoughts into one clear direction, but he still did not want to readily admit it. And yet he couldn't understand one part. "Why?"

Bulma looked back, away from their son, "Why what?"

"Why do you want him to know me?"

"Vegeta..."

"No, listen." Vegeta's firm gaze redirected towards her. "That boy, our son, died. All he wanted to do was know me. In the time chamber, he only wanted to talk to me, and I shut him out. He just wanted to prove himself to his father, and I wouldn't even look at him." Blood was pumping to his head as the anger flooded his entire body. "I had to watch him die. While you were here coddling our child, I had to watch him covered in his own blood!" His fists were shaking, and Bulma watched as his fingers slowly began to draw blood.

"Vegeta, you're hurting—"

"I couldn't even go with them. It felt wrong for me to be there when he returns." Vegeta shook his head, wiping the blood unceremoniously on his already tattered uniform. "I was a coward, Bulma."

She placed Trunks down, much to the baby's dismay, and grabbed a paper towel she left on the changing table. "You're not a coward." She grabbed his hand and started to wipe off the blood. "You're the bravest person I know."

Vegeta huffed, "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" They were shallow cuts, but Bulma still shook her head. Vegeta could definitely be a masochist at times. "If there's anything you aren't, it's a coward."

But that still wasn't enough. "Even so, you would let a murderer be around your son?"

Bulma stopped cleaning his cut and looked up, those blue eyes and their depths confusing him again. What was this power she had over him, and how could she utilize it so easily? It was unfair that with a single look, this woman managed to wipe away any clouds in his mind. "First of all, Vegeta, he's our son."

"Hmph."

"And don't think I'd ever put him in danger, ever. Even if it did mean putting myself between an arrogant Saiyan."

He huffed at her sentence, covering the fact that he found it strangely alluring. She may have been weak, but there was that fire in her. It was what attracted him to her in the first place.

"And you're not a murderer." She bit her lip, "...anymore. Do you think I would have slept with a man I thought was still a murderer?"

He raised an eyebrow at that. They had never really discussed exactly what led them to each other. Besides the obvious physical attraction between them, both of them should have known, mentally, that anything like that was a bad idea. "Didn't you?" his voice a decibel lower than he was expecting.

"N-No! I knew there was a reason that you did all that, whether it was for Frieza or your own messed up childhood. I knew you weren't evil."

"Hmph." It was strange. He had himself convinced for the longest time that he was.

Bulma went back to look at his hand, but found the blood had already clotted. She tossed the paper towel in the trash and turned back to the man in the room. "If you want to know the truth...really, then I guess I can tell you."

Vegeta blinked, but still didn't look at her, knowing her eyes were just too damn hypnotic. He continued to watch their son, who was beginning to doze off now. Such a tiny thing...it seemed so weak to him. He needed to stay here and train the little brat or all his royal blood would have gone to waste. "What is it?" His mind felt a little buzzed with what it exactly was. Although Bulma wasn't exactly the mushiest of idiotic Earth women, he wouldn't put it passed her to say that she maybe...loved him. And that was something he was definitely not prepared to handle.

"Vegeta...I..." Her flustered behavior made him grit his teeth.

Damn it, woman! Don't say that to—

"I trust you, Vegeta."

His stomach felt empty at those words. But he just tightened his grip, not giving himself the time to understand why. "You've always been foolish."

"I know you won't hurt him."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because you love him."

Vegeta snapped around, but no retort followed. All he could think of was watching his son's lifeless body on the ground. How empty did Trunks feel knowing that his father, still alive, barely even looked at him? He was abandoning him, just like his own father had done. But this wasn't love. He just couldn't stand being slightly similar to such a weak, disgraceful Saiyan.

The insolent woman had another smile on her face because he had never responded. She walked back up to the crib, replacing the blanket over Trunks' tiny body. "He has your eyes, you know."

That was one thing about his child he knew to be wrong. It was the first thing he had noticed (except for that sorry excuse for Saiyan hair) that the boy had his mother's striking blue eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Bulma laughed at his confusion, "I don't mean the color, but the shape of them. Sometimes he looks at me, and I swear, it's like a miniature you." She cooed over the crib, "You're just the cutest then, aren't you baby Trunks?"

He smirked at the indirect compliment.

"So where do you want to stay?"

The question threw him a little. He had his own room when he had been living here for those three years, although some of those days were spent sleeping in Bulma's room. "I thought I made it quite clear woman, I am not here..."

"For me, yeah, gotcha asshole." Bulma closed and locked the window to the nursery and opened the door. "I wasn't implying anything like that, Vegeta. Please. I just didn't know if you wanted a room so close to Trunks'. He does wake..."

"That will be sufficient."

Bulma blinked, "You sure?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Bulma smiled, "Right. So, Vegeta?"

He rolled his eyes. He forgot how many questions this damnable woman asked. "What!"

"...Just wanted to know how long you planned on staying."

He didn't even have to think about it. "The average lifespan of a Saiyan male is approximately 80-90 years."

Vegeta grimaced as she smiled again. Why was she so damn happy? Whatever happened to her being pissed at him all the time? Though he had to admit that the way her smile softened her feminine features did have a tendency to make his mind cave in. He knew this would be dangerous.

"So I guess that means a while?"

"Hmph."

"Thank you."

He hadn't been expecting that one. The woman looked practically nervous looking at him now. Vegeta openly sighed seeing her gaze directed at the floor. He missed looking at her eyes, even though they were such a silly human color. "For what?"

"Coming back this time."

tad bit of a sucker for nice (maybe corny) endings...just a heads up :D

i hope you guys liked it! but either way, let me know by reviewing. it'll mean a lot to me!

i'm in the process of trying to think of a longer story. i'm writing an AU now (featuring this story's couple), but i'm for any ideas!

thanks for reading!

~aria