I know I should be working on my story, but I had the inspiration to write this and I just couldn't ignore it! Please review and let me know what you think! Thanks!

~Neth

Bulma frowned as she watched the stubborn man in front of her. He was...different. There was no other way to put it. He was quieter. He was always quiet, believing humans, and most other mortals, to be beneath him, and therefore not worth speaking to. But this was a different kind of quiet. She could usually get him riled up, get him to scream at her and call her a 'blasted, ignorant woman'. But not now. Now he sat quietly, acknowledging her presence even less than usual. Sometimes he would warily glance at the baby in her arms, before turning his gaze back to whatever unseen nightmare was haunting him. Something had happened on that battlefield that had really hit Vegeta, and she wasn't sure what it was. Bulma sighed.

"Hello? Earth to Vegeta, did you even hear me?" Vegeta's eyes slightly narrowed and she smirked. She would get him to snap out of it. "Look buddy, I know things are unsure for you right now, but this is our son, and he can't have you in and out of his life! So you need to decide if you're going to sta-" Suddenly Vegeta shot to his feet.

"I know, you ignorant, incessant woman!" Bulma jumped slightly at his quick, inhuman speed, and Trunks began to cry in the next room. Vegeta's shoulders fell slightly and his sudden, characteristic outburst was quickly replaced by the distant man that had previously been sitting in her living room. "Just...stop pestering me about it," he said softly. Bulma raised her eyebrows. Who is this man? She thought. Nodding, she turned to go and calm down Trunks, but stopped.

"I found the book," she said softly, without turning around. She stood in silence with her back to Vegeta, unable to see his jaw tense and his fists clench.

"Then you know what I will do," he said softly. Bulma released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as relief washed through her. He was staying. She turned to thank him, but he was already gone.

Trunks sighed, wrestling with himself. He had finally mustered up the courage to lift his hand and consider knocking on the bedroom door, when it suddenly burst opened.

"For kamisake, how fucking long are you going to stand here?" His clearly pissed off Father demanded. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his now terrified son. "What?" Trunks gulped.

"I...uh, well...it's nothing."

"You've been standing outside my bedroom door for forty damn minutes for nothing?" Trunks shrugged. Vegeta stomped his foot angrily. "Stop acting like a child! Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Surprised, Trunks hesitantly lifted his kind eyes to meet his Father's hard ones. Vegeta scoffed. "Your Mother has made you soft in my absence. I will make sure that does not happen here." Trunks almost fell over and it took every ounce of self control he had not to let his mouth drop open in shock. His Father planned on staying? He would help his Mother raise his younger counterpart? He fought a smile. His Mother had told him once that his Father had died before he had the chance to change. It seemed she was right.

"Well?" His Father brought him out of his thoughts.

"Right...um, well I'm leaving tomorrow..." Vegeta nodded curtly. Trunks scratched the back of his head nervously. This wasn't going how he'd envisioned. Of course, conversations with his Father never did. How could he get through to him? What could he say that his Father would respond to? What would he want to see in his son? Strength. Tenacity. Pride...Trunks took a deep breath and looked his Father directly in the eye. "I wanted to say goodbye," he said. "I figured you wouldn't want to be around everyone tomorrow." Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "Dad, I...I always wanted to meet you. Gohan told me what a great, proud fighter you were, and how you were the last full blood Saiyan. I wanted to make you proud. I trained under Gohan so I could kill the androids and avenge everyone...so I could avenge you. I'm...I'm really glad I got the chance to meet you, Dad."

His usual stoic look held intact, and when Trunks had first come from the future, he wouldn't have thought any differently of his Father. But after spending an entire year alone with him in the hyperbolic time chamber, Trunks had become very good at reading his Father. He was a man of pride who didn't readily show emotion. To the random passerby, he appeared angry and intimidating at all times, a self-entitled asshole who lashed out at others. But hidden deep beneath that facade was a man just like any other. And if you looked hard enough, you could occasionally see it in his eyes. It was always quick, so quick Trunks had himself convinced he was imagining it for the longest time. But after what Yamcha had told him...the way his Father had reacted when he died...he knew he wasn't making it up. His Father had feelings and now was no exception. Something had flickered across his Father's face, through his Father's onyx eyes.

Vegeta frowned, aware of his son's speculating eyes, and quickly looked away. A long silence fell over them, Trunks eagerly awaiting his Father's words, Vegeta angrily struggling to find the right ones. He would never admit to the fluttering in his stomach or to how hard his heart was beating inside his chest. He wanted to just scowl and walk away, like he had so many times before. But this time had to be different...there was something...something that told him it had to be different. Images of a bright blue beam piercing his son's heart flashed through his mind, and he shuddered. Yes, as much as he didn't want to admit it, something was different, something had changed. With his eyes still averted from Trunks's face, Vegeta began speaking.

"It always boiled my blood that an ignorant, low class clown like Kakarot would be the one to kill Frieza. It was my blood right, my duty as the Prince of all Saiyans!" Trunks's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was he talking about? Vegeta clenched his fists by his side. A small silence crept on before he spoke again. "But to know that instead…he was slain by my son's hand…" Trunks's eyes grew wide. He had been so focused on the androids then…Frieza was just a small, miniscule obstacle, an obstacle that his Father could now easily get rid of as well. But in the past it hadn't been that way. Trunks remembered his Mother telling him that his Father had once been enslaved to Frieza, and the shame he'd felt when he hadn't been the one to kill him. But it had never occurred to him that his Father might feel differently if he'd been the one…

"Father…" But Vegeta had already begun to walk away. Trunks sighed, thinking he was leaving. But instead he stopped at a desk in the far corner of his room, opened a drawer, and took out a book. With an unreadable look on his face, Vegeta turned towards Trunks and locked eyes with him for a brief moment, before looking away. He held out his hand with the book in it.

"Give this to your Mother," he said softly. Trunks gently took the book out of his Father's hand, bewildered. He was shocked, and yet touched, by the gesture. He looked up to thank him, but he was already gone.

A smile spread across his face as he pulled his Mother closer to him. He had spent a lot of time with his Mother's younger counterpart, but it was different. Now he felt like he was truly home. He would finish off the androids here, and they would finally be able to live in peace. He pulled away from his Mother and was about to leave to do what he had to do, when he remembered his Father's gift.

"Mom?" Bulma smiled. How she'd missed hearing that.

"Yes dear?"

"Umm…Dad told me to give you this."

Bulma's eyes grew wide at the sight of the old, worn book. She gingerly took it from her son's outstretched hand, tears glistening in her bright blue eyes. Trunks gently touched her shoulder.

"What does it mean, Mom?" Bulma smiled and shook her head.

"It means your Father has been given a chance to learn something he was only beginning to understand in this time." Trunks raised his eyebrows, but Bulma only smiled in return. "Thank you, honey," she said softly. She turned and left the room, leaving Trunks standing alone and bewildered just as his Father had in another timeline the day before.

Darkness had taken over the skies and moonlight peered into her room. Her son had finally destroyed the androids, and in doing so, ended the hell they'd been living in. Vegeta would be so proud, she thought fondly. Bulma reached over to the night stand and picked up the old, blue book. A smile spread across her face as memories flooded her mind. She remembered how tentative he'd been at first, not sure what to do or to handle their passionate fling. He'd insisted on no one knowing, which she had been fine with. It had made it all that much more exciting, sneaking around. But when he'd come up with the book idea, she'd been shocked. It seemed too…romantic for Vegeta, like something from a movie! But that was how he was, full of surprises.

It had been a few days since anything had happened between them. They had gotten in an argument, one of many, and he'd reacted like a child and locked himself away to train. As frustrated as she was, she had decided not to bother him. After Goku destroyed Frieza, Vegeta lost something. He hadn't had anything to work towards, any goal to attain. He'd spent his entire life plotting against Frieza, all the while being enslaved by him. With his sudden freedom and Frieza's death, by another's hand, Vegeta had become a little lost. He rarely trained, so with his sudden interest, she'd decided to let him be. After a few days had passed, she had begun to assume that their time together was over. He had found his passion again, and no longer needed her to pass the time. She had expected it to happen sooner or later, and almost accepted it, when she'd walked into her bedroom one day and found her favorite book sitting on her nightstand.

She had known for a fact that she'd left it in the library downstairs, and was perplexed by how it had ended up in her room. Perhaps her parents had put it there? Were they trying to tell her that she needed to read more? Annoyed, she had grabbed the book, only to have a small piece of paper fly out of it. Written on it in clear, flowing script were the words

my room

eleven thirty

Her heart had skipped a beat at the gesture, and she practically went crazy waiting for eleven thirty to arrive. Somehow she'd convinced herself that he wouldn't show, that it had been a dream or something. But at eleven thirty on the dot, he walked into the room, and threw her down on the bed.

After that, the book became their way of communicating. They would write when and where to meet, stick it in the book, and await their lover's arrival. They spent years this way, and though it was often rocky and they fought a lot, they knew the fight was over with the appearance of that book. It continued that way until she'd found out she was pregnant with Trunks. Vegeta had become super distant and it only worsened with Goku's death. The morning that he left to fight the androids, they had gotten in a fight. Everything seemed to be going to hell, and in a moment of weakness, she had lost it. She'd needed to know if the man that she'd been with for three years, if the Father of her child, loved her. "Do you love me?" she'd asked hysterically. She had begged him for an answer, but he had remained silent, and left. He never returned. He'd gone to fight the androids without telling her, without even saying goodbye, and left her forever. She hadn't known that that morning, he'd left her one last note in that book. She hadn't found it until a few days after he was gone. It was a single word, but it was everything she needed to know.

The circumstances were different in the other timeline. They knew about the androids ahead of time, Vegeta did have something to work towards, Goku didn't die…but he had still sent this book, almost as if he'd known that it had been destroyed here in her timeline. Which meant they had still used that method of communicating. And if he had sent it with Trunks, he had one more message to communicate to her, to leave her with. Somehow, she knew what it was before she even opened it. Carefully she unfolded the piece of paper that was wedged in the pages of that little book. The tears she'd held in for so long finally spilled down her cheeks as she read the word, the one little word that he'd left her all those years ago.

Always