I am not a love-child!
 
by Mirai Trunks
 
Disclaimer:
I don't really see why this is necessary but it seems to be the custom so here
goes:
        I do not own my mother, I do not own my father, I do not own my friends,
enemies and or acquaintances. I really don't even own the strange twisted story
line that is my life. That belongs to someone with a strange twisted sense of
humor who thought it would be oh-so-funny to have my parents name me after
underwear. There. Now you can't sue me. (I mean, its not like I don't have
enough money, its just that its all in zenni)
 
        I'm not much of a storyteller so I'll explain to you why I am bothering to
write this. The day I discovered this site I was surprised, honored even,
 
        "Wow" I thought "Lots of people are writing stories about me! I am such a
stud." I read them. All of them. (I take that back, *most* of them. Who ever
came up with the Trunks/Vegeta/Pan idea, I will find you one day and ask you
"WHY?!?!?!?!?") In any case I quickly exhausted the store of fics about me and
decided to move on to tales of my parents.
 
        This genre was strange. Some of these fics were kinda gross, some sweet, some
stupid, some funny but they all had one thing in common....I WAS A FRICKIN
LOVE-CHILD! All right, now one or two stories like this I could under stand, 20
or 30 I could conceive, heck if only 50% fell into this strange genre I wouldn't
be writing this but the fact is I have yet to find a tale that has even gotten
close to telling what truly happened. I mean, what kind of a slut do you think
my mom is? Sheesh.
 
        I am here today to set you all straight and explain to you what truly
transpired. Yes, that's right, I know, first hand, what happened. You may ask
        "how?" After you do that I'll look at you like like you're stupid and I say
        "A little birdie brought me a video ta-I SPIED ON 'EM! DUH!" If you are a on
the smarter end of the group of people who ask stupid questions you will quickly
realized your mistake and ask instead, the more appropriate question
        "Why?" Then I will explain there are two reasons. The first is: to make sure
things were going down the right path. I'm no idiot, I know time travel can
seriously fuck things up. I f somehow I changed something that resulted in me
not being born there would be problems. I just wanted to keep an eye on things.
 
        The second reason: blackmail. Pure beautiful blackmail. I mean, come on! 
From what I had seen of him, and judging from Goku's reaction when I explained
my heritage my dad falling in love with Mom was definitely something I didn't
want my trusty Kodak to miss. Who knows, maybe I could even get a shot of him
in that infamous pink shirt.
 
        If you have gotten this far on the question chain and are of the perverted sect
you will now probably ask as to what extent ::nudge nudge wink wink:: I spied on
them. I will promptly bitch slap you and once you're out cold inform your
motionless body this is a kid friendly story so I did NOT stick around for the
honeymoon. Kami, as if that's something I want to see -_-.
 
        Now without further ado, the true story of Bulma and Vegeta.
 
Setting The Stage
        Alright, most people got the basic setting right. After the amazing and studly
"strange purple haired kid" came and so kindly warned everyone of their
respective impending dooms Vegeta came to the Briefs' house to build up the
strength to go SSJ with the help of the gravity machine. Slowly he began to
notice Bulma and vice versa. My story begins with Yamacha already gone. (this
is another little discrepancy I find in other less reliable stories. If you'll
pay attention I told Goku something to the effect of "Bulma and Yamacha were
such a clash of strong opinions that they finally broke up" I did not say
"Yamacha was caught cheating with 20 different women at the same time so Bulma
kicked him in the balls and then Vegeta beat within an inch of his life" as some
people interpreted it. In truth the break up was easy and rather painless) 
This story will be presented in scenarios. For obvious reasons I could not be
watching them all the time. Now with the stage set I will launch into my tale.
 
Several Days after the infamous "Gravity Room Explosion"
 
        Bulma stands in the kitchen doing the dishes. Many dishes. Many many dishes. 
Vegeta walks in from a training session and begins to rummage through the
refrigerator. Bad idea.
 
        "Vegeta is you *touch* another dish I'll-" Bulma started.
 
        "You'll what women?" asked Vegeta with a mild look of amusement on his face as
he purposefully placed a gi-normous sandwich down on an equally large platter.
 
        "GODAMMIT! TATS IT!" Bulma screeched "Now wash!" she commanded as she jammed a
dishcloth and dirty pot into his hands.
 
        "I do not wash! What happened to that mother woman of yours? This is her
task."
 
        "Mom is sick and even if she wasn't thats no excuse. You ought to start
pulling your weight around here as a guest and I think this is a perfect way to
start. I've been slaving away at this pile of plates for an hour and a half
now. I'm tired, my feet hurt, I'm getting a headache. Now wash!" she commanded
again.
 
        "You should be glad for the honor to serve such a guest as me" was the only
cocky reply. All this was not sitting well with Bulma. She must not have been
exaggerating about how crappy she felt 'cause she was really allowing herself to
get all steamed up.
 
        "Have you ever done *anything* for someone else?" she demanded.
 
        "Woman, I tire of your chatter." Vegeta turned to leave. You could literally
see the heat radiating off Bulma now.
 
        "YOU JACKASS!" she screeched. Vegeta stopped but didn't turn. Bulma continued
"YOU PLANET DESTROYING, NAMEK SCREWING, FREIZA LOVING, TAILLESS SON OF A SICK
BABOON AND DESPERATE PORCUPINE!" This got him to turn. The air around him
began to shimmer, but Bulma wasn't finished. "You live at my house! Eat my
food! Use my gravity machine! I fix the damn contraption every time you fuck it
up! I make you food! Clean up the random crap you leave around! Patch up the
holes in the walls you make! Pay off the people who are trying to sue us and
kill you cause you kill/destroy/steal their pet/house/car! I stay with you all
night at the hospital after just about kill your self! I care-" She stopped
herself and took a deep breath. Finally she added, quietly this time, "....and
you can't do one thing for me."
 
        Bulma was apparently worn out by this long tirade and sunk to the floor
muttering "damn my head hurts" with effort she stood up and made her way out of
the kitchen up to her room without another glance at Vegeta.
 
        The air around Vegeta had stopped shimmering and he stood there motionless with
a face devoid of expression. I was about then I made my strategic exit, I had
a feeling that if I was spotted then I would be killed, androids nothing. I
vowed to check in first thing in the morning.
 
        I got there just about the time Bulma was waking up the next morning. She
yawned and stretched but did a double take when she saw her clock. She looked
out to the gravity machine where the clanks and bangs of the daily training
exercise could clearly be heard.
 
        "I wonder why his highness hasn't bellowed for his royal breakfast yet" she
mused. I suppose the recollection of the events of last night suddenly hit her
for her face fell and she surmised "he's probably just giving me a head start on
the left over dishes before his next feast." She heaved a heartfelt sigh and
trudged down stairs to her sudsy fate.
 
        I turned and was going to go check on Vegeta to see if he felt any remorse what
so ever. After all thing, things weren't looking too good for the "Make a
Trunks" cause. However I was brought up short by a gasp from Bulma. I went to
surreptitiously survey the kitchen. I smiled, things were looking up. The
kitchen was spotless and written sloppily on a post-it note that was carelessly
slapped on a cabinet were the words "For You" Things were looking up indeed.