a story by Dot
I really love to put Vegita in possibly awkward and/or embarrassing situations; I think it was writing this story that started it. It's one of the first DB 'fics that I wrote, and it involves every parent's worst nightmare: what to do when your child asks "The Big Question".
(BTW: This story takes place sometime after Buu was defeated, and has a teeny tiny bit of lemon at the end, as well as a good bit of Warm and Fuzzy Feelings. You have been warned. ^_~)
Vegita froze in mid-punch, hoping that he didn't hear what he thought he heard.
"Where did I come from, Dad?" Trunks repeated. "Tell me."
Bulma had warned Vegita that one day he would be asked that question.
"Be honest," she told him, "but be tactful."
"Because he'll probably ask you that question at an age when he's not ready to handle a straight answer."
"Then why the hell would he want to know?"
"Children are...well, curious. They want a sense of identity, of belonging."
"And I have to explain to him how..." Vegita gave Bulma a meaningful look; she nodded. "How am I supposed to do that?"
She threw up her hands. "I don't know! Just think of...something. Anything."
"And you're sure he'll ask me."
Bulma sighed. "Probably. And soon."
Vegita did not look forward to the inevitable conversation with his son.
"Come on, Dad." Trunks insisted. "Tell me."
"A-ano..." Vegita began, not quite knowing what to say.
"Your mother and I..." Vegita paused again. What was he supposed to tell his son? "We..." Trunks waited expectantly. Vegita closed his eyes and massaged his sinuses, trying to find the right words.
"Dad...you're stalling." Vegita felt his anger rising. He was the Prince of the Saiyajins and the greatest warrior in the universe--next to Kakarrotto, of course--yet his own son rendered him completely speechless. He gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to throw Trunks into the gravity room and beat some sense into him.
"Your mother wants me to be 'honest but tactful'." He muttered in his native language. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"
"What did you say?" Trunks asked, perplexed. His father seemed to be making a strange growling noise, and saying something he couldn't understand.
"Huh?" Vegita opened one eye and looked at his son.
"I said, 'What did you say?'"
Then Vegita remembered that Trunks did not speak the Saiyajin language. He probably should have taught the boy, but never bothered to. He sighed. "Nothing of importance."
"Well, you still haven't told me where I came from yet," Trunks pouted.
"Couldn't you wait a while?" Vegita pleaded. Like a few years, maybe?
"No; I want to know NOW."
For a moment the tension between father and son was palpable.
"Tomorrow," Vegita pronounced slowly, so as not to shout. "And that's final," he added when Trunks began to protest.
"He asked me today," Vegita announced casually to Bulma as she was changing that night.
"Did you tell him?" No answer. "Well?" Vegita lost his patience.
"What the hell do I tell him? I can't exactly say that--"
"--you screwed my brains out about a million times and one of those times I got pregnant?" Vegita raised an eyebrow.
"I can give you an exact number, if you wish."
Bulma rolled her eyes. "Only a pervert like you would remember something like that."
Vegita chuckled, but quickly grew solemn again. "Seriously, though, why can't I just tell him?"
"He's only eight years old!"
"So? I knew long before that!"
"Human children don't...handle things like this as well!"
"Trunks isn't human," Vegita reminded her.
You've got that right, Bulma wanted to say, but thought better of it. "He's half human," she pointed out instead. Vegita didn't reply. "If it's really that hard for you, I'll tell him."
"You're a regular life-saver." Vegita's tone was not quite sarcastic.
That night Vegita, no matter how hard he tried, could not fall asleep. He didn't understand the conflicting feelings within him: half of him wanted to tell the brat the whole story and get it over with, but the other half wanted to protect his son--his only son. He couldn't see what harm it would do to tell the boy his origins; then again, Vegita was reluctant to tell Trunks what happened between him and Bulma to produce the purple-haired wonder. Not that he didn't know, of course; not only did he know how Bulma got pregnant, he also knew when--down to the minute and the hour. Perhaps that was why Bulma warned him to be--what did she say?--"tactful". Vegita ground his teeth in frustration. This was not going to be easy...
The next morning began a little differently than usual: Trunks was actually eager to get up. Usually Bulma had to pry him out of bed and rush him through breakfast so that he would be ready to leave when Goten came to pick him up. Today, though, Trunks was already wolfing down a bowl of cereal when Bulma walked into the kitchen.
"My, you're up early today," she observed.
"Asleep." For the first time in Bulma's life, it seemed, Vegita was not awake before her. He was dozing fitfully when the alarm clock rang, but didn't stir--not even when Bulma got out of bed.
"Dad sleeps?" Trunks facevaulted. He, too, had never even seen Vegita show any indication that he needed rest.
"I had no idea that he did, either," Bulma laughed.
Perhaps because Trunks was up so early, he was especially hungry.
"More, please," he held his bowl out to Bulma for a seventh helping.
"You're going to eat me out of house and home, Trunks," Bulma prepared him another serving. She would have to go shopping again to stock up on supplies. She wondered if Chi-Chi would be free to go with her; shopping in pairs always seemed more pleasant.
"I'm full," Trunks finally declared with satisfaction after two more platefuls.
"Good. Go get your things and put on your shoes; for once don't let Goten-kun wait for you."
"But, Okaasan--" Bulma gave him an 'obey-me-or-else' look. Trunks didn't want to find out what the 'or else' was; he got everything ready in a flash.
"Go outside and wait for Goten."
"Mom--" Trunks gave her a pleading look. Dad promised! He wanted to shout. He said he would tell me today!
"Hurry up, or you'll be late."
"Aww, Ma--" Trunks protested feebly. He knew he could never argue with his mother, but today was different: he just had to find out what his father was so unwilling to tell him.
"Goten's almost here," Bulma shooed her son out the door.
Vegita very slowly opened his eyes and tried not to let the blinding light squeeze them shut again. He couldn't remember when he fell asleep--or if he fell asleep at all. He groaned as he forced himself out of bed; he felt as if he were in the practice room with the gravity turned up all the way. He staggered into the bathroom, where he splashed some cold water on his face to wake himself up. He picked up his razor, then put it back down. Was the stubble on his face worth all the trouble of a shave? Stroking his face and looking into the mirror, Vegita considered growing a mustache. All he had to do was remember how stupid Nappa looked to decide against one. He filled the sink with water, lathered his face with shaving cream, picked up his razor, and began to shave, being careful not to cut himself.
Bulma was still cleaning up after her son when Vegita walked out of his room.
"You're finally up!" She exclaimed. Vegita ignored her and went to the refrigerator. "Don't bother; Trunks ate almost everything this morning."
"That's all right; I haven't eaten wolf for a while anyway," Vegita joked. Bulma shuddered.
"Ugh. Please don't remind me."
"At least I'm not a picky eater."
"No, you're not," Bulma put the last dishes into the cabinet. "I'm going shopping. Care to join me?"
"If Kakarrotto's mate isn't coming."
"You still mad at her for breaking up your little sparring session?"
(A few weeks ago, Vegita had taken Trunks and Goten into the gravity room to 'train'. Chi-Chi, furious that Vegita had dared to interrupt Goten's studying, had stormed into the room and nearly rendered him deaf with her tirade.)
"That woman thinks that she can 'civilize' her half-breed son."
"Well, it worked, didn't it?"
"For Gohan, maybe. But Goten is not as obedient or studious as his elder brother."
Bulma picked up the phone. "I'll just call her to see if she's available," she dialed Chi-Chi's number. Even though the Son house was in the middle of the woods, where Goku used to live as a little boy, it has all the modern conveniences: water, electricity, and most importantly, a phone line. "Mushi mushi? Chi-Chi, this is Bulma. I'm going shopping for some food. You want to go?" She paused for an answer. "Oh, really? Too bad. That's all right. Saiyonara." She hung
up and turned to Vegita. "Get dressed, Vegita. Chi-Chi can't come today."
In reality, the only contribution Vegita ever made on these shopping trips was to carry the tremendous amount of food necessary to feed the family. Most of the time, he just followed Bulma around and sulked. Until recently, he would even refuse to try on any clothes that Bulma picked out for him.
"You can't go around wearing the same outfit all your life!" Bulma had exclaimed when Vegita objected for the umpteenth time.
"Why not?!?" He demanded.
"What will you wear when I do the laundry?" She countered. "A loincloth?"
Even though that didn't seem like a such a bad idea, Vegita had finally given in--grudgingly--but rarely accompanied Bulma when she went out. At least this time, they were only buying food.
"There isn't enough time for me to go home and make you lunch," Bulma said, glancing at her watch when they had finally made it to the checkout line. "Why don't we try out the new restaurant that opened last week?"
"Well...I don't want to eat a new restaurant out of business."
Bulma laughed. Son-kun did eat all the food from a restaurant once, she remembered fondly. Poor Muten Roshi had to use all of his prize money to pay the bill. Taking a look at her own bill, Bulma was glad she was the richest woman in the world; how else could she pay for food enough to feed several small nations?
Vegita did not eat the restaurant out of business; in fact, he hardly ate at all--that is, compared to how much he usually ate. He listlessly picked at his food, only putting a little into his mouth every once in a while.
"You must be really worried, Vegita," Bulma noted. "You've hardly touched your food."
"I only have another four hours or so to try to think of something to tell Trunks. Of course I wouldn't exactly be starving right now," Vegita answered testily. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, which he considered to be another unnecessary task forced onto him by Bulma, he stood up.
"Where are you going?"
Bulma knew what that really meant: both of them were to leave. "You sure you don't want any more?" She asked pointing to the leftovers. Leftovers?!?
By the time Vegita finished helping Bulma put away all of the food, it was two o'clock in the afternoon. As Bulma was storing the leftovers from lunch, and still not believing what she was seeing, he sat down in the living room for a while, then got up and began pacing.
"Will you stop that?" Bulma crossed her arms. "You're starting to make me nervous."
"Good," but Vegita sat down nonetheless. A few moments later, he got up again. "I can't stay in this house for another minute."
Bulma gave a start. Vegita was not the kind of person that would run away; he must be really concerned about what to do.
"Wait! When will you be back?"
But he was already gone.
Hours passed; Vegita still hadn't returned.
"I'm home!" Trunks announced, noisily taking off his shoes and dumping his back pack onto the sofa. No one replied. "Dad?" Trunks called. "Where are you?" Still no answer. "Dad! You promised!" Trunks ran through the house looking for his father. Instead, he found Bulma, reading a book in her room. "Mom!" He nearly wailed.
Bulma looked up from her book. "What's the matter, dear?"
Trunks told her the whole story. "He said he would tell me today. But I can't find him everywhere!"
Bulma put her book down and looked at her son seriously. "Do you really want to know where you came from?"
"Um-hmm," Trunks nodded.
Bulma thought hard for a while, then smiled. She knew exactly what to tell him. "A long time ago," she began, pulling him closer. "Your father gave me a wonderful present. And that present was you."
Trunks eyes opened wide. "Honto?" He asked, amazed. Bulma nodded. "Sugoi! Arigatou!" He shouted happily.
Bulma smiled again. "Now, don't you have some homework to do?"
For a long time Vegita just flew, not knowing where to go. Finally tired of wandering aimlessly, he landed beside a lake in a forest. Before he permanently moved in with Bulma, he used to come here to eat, swim, or just think. Picking a place where he would be in the shade, Vegita sat down and leaned against a tree. He remembered the first time he saw the young man from the future that was his son. He wondered if that Trunks ever asked Bulma where he came from, and what she told him.
Your father? He was a pretentious bastard that was too proud to tell me that he loved me, and a stubborn fool who let his pride take him to his death.
The conflict within Vegita's mind still wasn't resolved; he knew he should go home, but whenever he tried to get up another part of him forced him back down. The more he thought about it, the more he dreaded it.
Vegita sat there until dusk. The setting sun dyed the sky and the lake magnificent colors, but he was in no mood to watch. When it got fully dark, Vegita went hunting; he ate slowly, like he did at lunch, not even noticing or caring what he killed.
Even though Vegita's, Goten's, and Trunks' tails never grew back, everyone agreed not to restore the moon, just in case. The glittering stars provided very little light, and as Vegita made his way back to the lake he bumped into someone.
"Vegita? What are you doing out here at a time like this?" It was Uranai Baba, the creepy sister of the perverted Kamesennin. Not only could she predict the future, but she could also bring people back from the dead for 24 hours. Not exactly he kind of person you would like to meet in the middle of the night.
Vegita mumbled an apology and went on his way.
"Having a bit of family trouble?"
Vegita stopped. "None of your business," he snapped, and kept going.
"You can't avoid the inevitable by running away," she called, her voice carrying easily in the dark. "And you can't run away forever."
Vegita stopped again. Uranai Baba was right; sooner or later he had to tell Trunks his 'origins', and if he didn't, Bulma would, and heaven knows what she would say.
"Go home, Vegita," the old lady advised him. "Your wife is worrying about you."
The house was alarmingly quiet when Vegita finally returned. Trunks was asleep--or at least seemed to be--a quick peek into his room would verify this beyond a doubt.
Even though Trunks' ki was low and even, like it always was when he was asleep, Vegita was still a bit afraid to open the door. Was his son waiting inside to ambush him?
Vegita shook his head. The great Saiyajin no Ouji afraid of his own son...
Still, when your son is a half-breed brat who can turn Super Saiyajin without being angry--and Trunks had plenty reason to be angry--just the thought of what might happen can be quite unnerving.
Vegita looked: Trunks was snoring. Before Vegita could stop himself, a small sigh of relief escaped from his lips. It was strange, though, that Trunks would be willing to go to bed; not even Bulma could persuade her son to do a thing when he was in the middle of a temper tantrum. Vegita was still wondering what could have possibly happened when he went to his room.
Bulma noticed the puzzled look on his face.
"Something the matter, Vegita?" She asked.
"Given what happened today--or, perhaps I should say, didn't happen--he would be raving mad. But he's sound asleep."
Well, Bulma thought, he's not you. "Since you weren't there to tell him, I did."
Vegita's jaw dropped. "You didn't--"
Bulma shook her head. "I told him that you gave him to me. Which is true--to a point."
Vegita smiled. "Yes, you could certainly say so," he frowned again. "But it's not exactly the truth, either."
Bulma shrugged. "It'll satisfy him for the time being."
Vegita considered this carefully. "That is not enough; I'll have to tell him the whole story," He decided, a bit reluctantly. "When he's older, of course," he added hastily, noticing the look of alarm on Bulma's face.
The couple got into bed and turned off the lights. Vegita turned towards Bulma and pulled her into his arms.
"I had no idea being a father would be so difficult," he mumbled, kissing her neck.
"Well," Bulma replied, squirming uncomfortably as Vegita moved on top of her, "that's what happens when you're not careful."
"Oh, I'm careful," Vegita reassured her, unbuttoning her nightgown, "I'm always very careful."
I had written this story after I read the part of Katchan's Saiyajin: A Dragon Ball Withdrawl Whim where Bulma discovers that Vegita more or less made her pregnant when he wanted her to. Well, gears started turning, and out came this story. Looking back, I realized that I unconsciously made Vegita quite human: feeling uncomfortable with telling Trunks about 'the birds and the bees', shaving (which, by the way, is a sneaky DBGT reference to Vegita's horrendous mustache), going shopping with Bulma, losing his appetite over worry, etc. I'd like to think that writing this story was what got me to thinking that Vegita could be more than the jerk that he usually is.
Copyright 1997 by Dot
Questions? Comments? Suggestions?