Disclaimer: Do I look like I created one of the best manga/anime ever? Surely not - I wouldn't be writing a fanfiction about my own work, that would be so narcissic of me. So I don't own DB, DBZ, the characters, etc, etc.

Rating: T. Or so I believe, I suck at rating my fanfics unless they're M, and that's definitely not the case here.

Timeline: This takes place not long after Trunks' birth. Might not be the most accurate fic you'll ever read, but hey, the idea appeared in my mind when I saw the whole Trunks thing so I really had to write it ^^

Father and Son

Bulma dropped on a couch, exhausted. Who could have guessed than being a mother was even harder than following Goku around? She stared at the ceiling with her blue eyes. Few meters away, behind a closed door, Trunks started crying again. The young woman sighed. If you don't give mummy a break, she's going to freak out you know! Still, she stood up, only to frown as the house became silent again. Trunks had stopped to cry. Smiling, she sat back on the couch.

Now that's a good boy!

She was woken up by Trunks' cries. The house was dark now: few hours had passed. This time, he was obviously not going to stop on his own, so Bulma quickly rushed towards the bedroom.

"Now," she said softly, "That's all right darling, mummy's here!"

She frowned, having noticed that the room was much colder than it should, and the reason was pretty obvious: the window was wide opened. Trunks must've been so cold that it had woken him up. Earlier in the day, she had opened the window to get some fresh air into the bedroom, but had she truly forgotten to close it after? Possibly - she was getting so tired these days. Bulma walked towards the window and quickly closed it, then took her crying son in her loving arms.

"It's all right Trunks, I'm so sorry - of course maybe this wouldn't be happening if your father was there to help, but nooo, the all mighty Vegeta's too busy training on whatever planet he is now and being full of himself, yes he is my little baby!"

Trunks had stopped to cry and was staring at her with wide eyes. She sighed and kissed his forehead.

"Well now, what am I saying? You don't understand a word..."

She sniffed.

"Ew, diaper time!"

Days and weeks slowly went by. Sometimes - about once a week - Bulma would enter Trunks' bedroom and realise that the window was opened. At first, she believed that she was only forgetting to close it when she left, but now it seemed impossible. She couldn't possibly be that lost in her thoughts, could she? To solve the mystery, she had installed a device in Trunks' room, a device that would allow her to hear everything that was happening there.

She was in the living room ready an article in a magazine about the best way to get rid of the weight she had gained during pregnancy when she heard a subtle noise coming from the speaker on her belt. The door of a window slowly opening, or so it seemed. She dropped the magazine and listened closely.

"Hello there," a low, familiar voice said.

Bulma raised from the couch at once. Could it be possible?

A short but toned silhouette sneaked into the dark bedroom through the window, and slowly walked towards Trunks' small bed. The baby smiled widely and opened his arms, as if he wanted the intruder to take him in his arms.

"Hello there," Vegeta whispered.

With the tip of his gloved finger, he caressed the baby's round cheek. Trunks laughed happily, and Vegeta couldn't help but give him a small smile. The baby would never remember it anyway and no one else was there to look at him: he could drop the mask a bit. Just a little bit.

Few weeks ago, when he had entered this room for the very first time, he only wanted to take a short look at his son. It was only legitimate for him, of course, to see his offspring at least once. When Bulma had told him that she was expecting a child - his child - he couldn't believe it. Somehow, he had to see the kid with his own eyes. Somehow, he felt that the whole idea would remain unreal and uncertain until he truly laid his dark eyes on that baby.

He remembered using the window to enter for the first time about one month ago. Trunks had started to cry when the cold wind had entered his warm bedroom, and he was about to leave - for Trunks' cries were sure to cause Bulma to rush to the bedroom - but then, the little boy had laid his blue eyes on him. And, miraculously, he had stopped to cry.

And then Vegeta had known it was true. That little pink thing there, that was sleeping in this small bed until he came in was really his son.

Vegeta was brought back to reality by some sort of laughing sound coming from the baby. Trunks was still looking at him with his arms opened, clearly hoping that he'd get a hug.

"Well now," the prince said with a bit of irritation in his voice, staring at his son as he frowned. "Would you stop doing that? I've never held you even once, why do you think I should start tonight?"

As if he had understood, Trunks pouted, and Vegeta smiled again as he shook his head.

Bulma froze like a statue as she put her hand on the door's handle. She did want to see if she was right, if it was truly Vegeta's voice... but, somehow, whatever he was doing in that room with their son, she didn't want to interrupt. She carefully kneeled on the floor and looked into the key hole.

The room was dark and he was turning his back on the door, but she recognised him anyway.

Short and muscular body, black, spiked hair and dark blue clothes. Vegeta had come to see Trunks, and it was probably him that had left the window opened behind the other times. But if he wanted to see his son then why didn't he just come to her directly and ask? The answer quickly occurred to her: Vegeta didn't want to have to ask her, he didn't want to give her a chance to say no. Proud like he was, he didn't want to show that he felt the need to see his son, at least a little bit, and more than anything else, he probably didn't want to be forced to beg her if she refused.

If only he knew that it was everything she ever wanted.

Vegeta, you might be a great warrior, but you suck a guessing other people's feelings.

Vegeta moved his white-gloved hand towards Trunks' cheek again, but the kid surprised him by seizing his index finger in his own fingers. Vegeta blinked, then smirked. That baby had quite a strong grip for such tiny hands.

"I see you truly are of royal Saiyan blood," he muttered for his son.

The child grinned and laughed. Vegeta sighed, then - he didn't really understand why - took Trunks in his arms. He was so little and yet so... so... alive. It was the most awkward feeling that Vegeta had ever felt, and yet it didn't feel as horrible as he thought. The baby laughed happily and leaned his head on Vegeta's white armoured torso. Although his father was holding him in the most uncomfortable and innappropriate way that showed his complete lack of experience, he seemed to feel very well were he was.

"Hey, wait," the prince said. "Don't get so cozy and all, I'm not gonna keep you for long - you'd better not turn me in to your mother for that dirt on your cheek, boy, or I'll show you some Saiyan education-"
"Bulma, what are you doing?"

Vegeta froze. It was the voice of Bulma's mother, and she was speaking to her daughter - they must've been close to the room, both of them. He had to get the hell out of that room! He quickly put Trunks back in his blue bed, and the baby immediately started to cry very loud, as if he had been taken away from a warm and comfortable place only to be put in ice-cold water.

"You know, we can put a camera if you want to watch over Trunks-"

Bulma opened the door at once, but it was too late. It had taken her only a few secondes to get on her feet and get the door opened, but by the time she did that, Vegeta was already gone. She slowly walked towards the bed where her son was crying.

"Oh, Bulma, darling, you forgot the window again - you must take care, you don't want Trunks to get a cold!"

She closed the window for her daughter as she picked up Trunks, who wouldn't stop crying. With the tip of a finger, she sadly wiped away the spot of dust on Trunks' cheek, caused by Vegeta's dirty armour.

"You're right. That's not a cold I want him to get," she simply replied.

That's his father I want him to get.

The end: Hope you liked it ^^ just a short little oneshot, I really loved the idea of Vegeta being a father so I just had to write this. Feel free to give me feedbacks, I'll answer to your reviews :) (well unless you review as anonymous then I cannot do it ^^')