A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back as promised. This is sort of a sequel to "A Week Left Wanting" but I am trying to write it as canon as possible, so it pretty much stands alone. This story will likely be longer than four chapters, and will have a bit more drama and romance than actual naughtiness; but don't worry, there will come a time for that as well. Please read and review, and I hope you enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama.

He had watched his son die, his own flesh and blood. It was not the helplessness he felt, no it was the regret that caused such anger to well up inside him. All his son had ever wanted from him was recognition, and he had been too proud to grant him even that. They had brought the youth back to life, those Earthlings and their Dragonballs, and he had watched him leave for his own time. He bade him farewell in his own way, but the regret refused to fade.

He remembered when Trunks had first been born. In fact, he remembered the whole process quite vividly. It had been some time after he and Bulma, that strong-willed human female, had coupled. It was not a long relationship, if it could even be called that, and they had been apart for weeks when she finally told him she was with child. It was an odd feeling that had seeped into his veins. Mostly, it was disbelief that he was going to reproduce, but a small part of him was afraid. His father had done the best he could, but despite everything he still hated the man. Someone weak enough to fall to the hands of Frieza could never be respected. He was afraid his child would reject him because he was not the strongest. In a way, the knowledge of his reproduction had fueled his training even further.

It had been a normal day when his son was born. The woman went into labor a few weeks premature, causing the whole house to be in an uproar. All he heard of it was a quick message left by Bunny, the woman's mother, telling him of the situation. His body went dead cold at that moment. He would finally have his little prince or princess. It was a shocking reality. For the first time, he felt concern for someone other than himself. It had been that concern that took him away from his training and to the hospital waiting room.

Hours passed as he silently paced. The woman's father had tried to start up inane conversation multiple times, but he cared not for anything but his child. Finally, Bunny emerged from the delivery room and told both him and Dr. Briefs to come and see the new baby boy. A son. Yes, he would not have rejected a daughter, but a son was what every man wished for to carry on his legacy. He walked hurriedly into the room where Bulma and his son were located. She looked very tired, and she held a tiny bundle in her arms. It hurt him some, as a look of surprise came over her face at his presence. But the look was soon replaced with a tired smile.

"Do you want to hold him?" she had asked of him. Hesitantly, he removed the bundle from her arms and cradled it within his own. The boy was sleeping, a small and fragile being. And he was his own blood. The fear overwhelmed him. No, he was not fit to be a father. He needed to train, to become the strongest warrior, and a son would detract from that goal. He handed the bundle back to the woman and turned very quickly to leave. "Wait, we need to name him," she had said. "Whatever you want," he replied. Not two minutes later, he forced Dr. Briefs to tell him where the capsule was for a spacecraft and left to finish his training in space. The further away from the boy and his mother, the better.

That had been little over a year ago. Now he knew he could not abandon the boy…or his mother. Despite every reservation he had, it was necessary. Kakarrot was no longer among the living, which made him the strongest; no, made him the second strongest next to Kakarrot's son. It was unacceptable, but he had no desire to best the boy. Not when his son would be able to do so. Yes, he had seen the benefits of mixing Saiyan blood with humans, and he knew his boy was no exception. It was the reason he gave himself for accepting his son, because he knew it would be the one that would force him not to abandon him again. He knew, somewhere, he deeply cared for his son, and even for the mother, but his rational mind would rip through such sentiments upon any lengthy thought on the matter. But he would do the honorable thing.

After Cell had been destroyed, he had left the battlefield and found himself atop a mountain, contemplating these very thoughts. A cold wind whipped across his body, but he ignored it. He knew he had to stay close to his son in order to train him, which meant living at the Capsule Corp. house. Which meant living in proximity with the mother. She was by no means any less desirable than she had been when they had coupled, but there was the added fear that she may require more from him than his mere presence.

Earthlings had a ceremony called "marriage" which bound two individuals together in a civil union for, theoretically, the rest of their lives. Something similar had been in place on Planet Vegeta, but it was less about the man and woman coming together as it was about producing offspring. It was also temporary. The man and woman would strike a deal and commit themselves to one another until a child was produced. Afterwards, it could be decided whether or not the parents wished to stay together; they rarely did. His mother had been an exception.

He could not have been more than a few years old when she died, but he remembered the pain of it. Frieza had demanded something of her, but she refused. That was what his father had told him, the young prince. Perhaps he may have been less cold if his mother had lived longer than she did, but it was pointless to dwell on the past. It was the present that concerned him.

Marriage seemed a particularly nasty human ritual, and he wanted no part in it. Bound to one woman, especially that woman, was perfectly out of the question. Unfaithfulness would also be out of the question. It was a point of pride in the royal family to take only one mate. To choose the woman that would bear your children and would be a suitable queen was part of the title. If his father had been rid of his mother shortly after his birth, it would have reflected poorly on the king's judgment. The same could be said of him, but he had never intended on making Bulma his permanent mate. And if he was cornered into a marriage, his pride would prevent him from seeking pleasure elsewhere. He would be trapped, and he would have none of it.

But she would be in his life. Mothers were terribly protective of their young, and he knew Bulma would be no different. The task ahead was going to be difficult, but he was up to the challenge.


For a few days, he had no opportunity to fulfill his task. His son, from the future, had recently left for his own time, and the days after had been filled with endless cycles of sadness and joy. It was almost sickening. Some man, Hercule Satan, had claimed he had defeated Cell, and the public was eating it up. Celebrations were being held all over, even in West City. Mourning also took place for Kakarrot's death, but it was far more localized than the celebrations. Amidst everything, he had not found a suitable time to speak with the woman alone. Now the celebrations around Capsule Corp. had finally died down, and he could finally speak his mind.

Thinking the task and performing it were two separate challenges entirely. It was against every fiber of his being to make requests of anyone, except when they were in the form of a threat. He felt very out of place. He felt as though he should be wearing his armor, readying himself for battle. Instead, he was wearing leisure clothes and felt like death warmed over. That woman, though physically weak, had a will to match the most formidable Saiyan female. It was one of the reasons he had been so attracted to her, still was so attracted to her. Now, it was the reason for his apprehension.

She was in her workroom, tapping away at something on her computer. The boy must have been put to sleep already. It was like her to work until midnight if something was not working just as she wanted. How did she ever manage sleep if she stayed up late and was woken at odd times during the night by the cries of the babe? She vexed him, damn her.

He gently rapped on the door before entering. She turned from her station to face him. He liked what she had done with her hair. The second time he had been to Earth, her hair looked like a giant puffball. Fortunately, an accident had occurred one day not long after and she had been forced to trim and straighten it. Though similar to the style she had had when they had coupled, this new style seemed a bit more functional. And it pleased him. She was always a very practical woman, which made him feel less guilty about bedding her. Any other woman might have cloyed for attention at every waking moment, but she simply went about her life as though nothing had changed between them.

"Vegeta?" He heard her say softly. He shook his head to rid him of his thoughts.

"Bulma…I need to speak with you." His heart rate jumped rapidly. This was humiliating, but it had to be done.

She seemed concerned and rose from her chair, closing the gap between them. "What is it?" He rarely used her name, and never asked so civilly to speak with her on any matter. It was not surprising she should feel concern.

"I wish to remain here for the foreseeable future." The look of concern left her face.

"Oh, is that all? I figured you would. We have everything you would every need: gravity room, lots of food, geniuses to fix whatever you might break…all the essentials."

His throat threatened to tense up and rob him of his speech. It had to be done. "That may be so, but you must understand my reason for the request." He took in a breath and released it slowly, gathering the courage to utter what he never expected he would ever utter. "I have discovered that I cannot remain apart from my son. When Trunks was killed by Cell, something snapped, and I know it cannot be repaired. Try as I might, I have realized my son needs his father, needs his guidance and that is the reason I have made my request."

She might have fainted if he had not grabbed her at the waist. Sheer disbelief washed over her as she took in his words. Slowly, her body relaxed and she was able to straighten herself without falling. She placed a hand on his cheek and stared into his eyes.

"Vegeta.." He allowed the kiss. It was very soft, very loving. He could have lost himself in it, if he wanted. But he had one other task to accomplish as well. He gently parted her from him and blanked his face of emotion.

"Understand this as well. I wish to remain for my son, but do not think there is anything between us." He could see a few tears well up at the corners of her eyes, but they did not fall. She gave a very soft nod and he took his leave. As the door closed behind him, he heard:

"It's enough."

A/N: Thanks for reading. I will be busy with schoolwork pretty much until Christmas Break, but I will try to update once or twice before then. Sorry for any delays that may occur.