Bulma knew the day wasn't going to be typical when she went into her son's bedroom to wake the boy up for school, only to find that he was already up. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion when she noticed the light under the door of Trunks' personal bathroom. Trunks being up this early just to go to school? That was a first. Thinking maybe the boy was sick, she went up to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Hey kiddo, you alright in there?"

"I'm fine!" Trunks called back, sounding agitated.

"You sure?"

"Gosh, Mom, I said I'm fine!" Trunks snapped.

"Hey buddy, you better watch that tone!" Bulma warned, earning a loud sigh from the boy on the other side of the door.

"Sorry," he muttered, this time sounding distracted. Bulma's brow furrowed in both curiosity and concern, but she decided not to press on the matter. Yet.

"Alright, I'll see you downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes?"

"Definitely," Trunks responded, staying quiet while he heard his mother leave his room.

When he was sure that she was gone, he turned back to the mirror in his bedroom and back to the matter at hand. The eleven-year-old boy was kneeling on the bathroom counter, his face inches from the mirror, biting his lips in concentration. Both of his hands were covered in hair gel as he furiously ran them up into his lavender hair, trying his hardest to spike his hair. But damn if his hair wasn't stubborn. Trunks grit his teeth, resisting the urge to ascend to Super Saiyan. Doing so would only get his father's attention, and he didn't want any extra attention from Vegeta that morning. But holy crap, how did actors ever style their hair like this in the movies? Or better yet, why couldn't he have gotten the natural spikes his dad had, instead of inheriting his grandfather's hair?

Trunks paused scrubbing the hair gel in to wonder what he would look like with Vegeta's hair. He cringed when he realized he would just look like a little miniature of his father, and decided maybe his fate wasn't so bad after all.

"Something's up with your son," Bulma informed her husband as she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. Vegeta grunted with indifference, raising his mug of hot coffee up for another drink as he read over the newspaper in his other hand. "Earth to Vegeta," Bulma announced loudly, making her husband finally look up at her in irritation. "Did you not hear me?"

"I'm certain everyone in the galaxy can hear you, loud wench," he sneered, raising his mug for another drink. "Besides, the boy's ki is normal. There is nothing to be concerned about."

"Feels like I'm the only sane one around here," Bulma grumbled to herself as she poured herself her own mug of coffee. "Well, since tomorrow is Valentine's Day, I'll just ask him then."

Vegeta shook his head at the reminder. Valentine's Day, yet another Earth tradition he didn't understand, and one he refused to participate in. A day to spend with the woman he married? He spent every day with her as it was. No matter how many times Bulma had tried explaining why it was a special day, he didn't understand, nor did he care to. It seemed to him to be another day to give the woman what she wanted, but she already had her birthday, their wedding anniversary, and Christmas. How many days did the woman need?

Fortunately, it seemed that after the first few years of their marriage, Bulma had finally given up on making Valentine's Day a thing between them, letting him off the hook. She therefore turned the day into one she would share with her other true love, her son, Trunks. Over the years, mother and son would enjoy Valentine's Day by getting a nice dinner out, just the two of them. It had become a nice tradition and one that worked for their unique family.

Vegeta closed his eyes when he suddenly detected a new ki approaching, raising his cup of coffee again. "The other brat just arrived," he gruffly announced.

"Goten?" Bulma asked, going over to peer out the window. "Good, breakfast should be ready in a bit."

"Must that boy always come in?" Vegeta growled. "He could just as easily wait for Trunks outside."

"Oh quit it, you love Goten," Bulma teased, leaving the kitchen to go let their guest in. Vegeta lowered his mug and exhaled slowly through his nose, reminding himself that killing anyone the day before Valentine's Day would be in extremely poor taste. He muttered to himself in his native language, before raising his newspaper again. Hopefully, if he looked like he was busy, the boy would take a hint and not speak to him.

"Hiya Vegeta!" Goten happily greeted him as he ran into the kitchen. Vegeta ignored him, as usual, holding up his newspaper high enough so that only his hair above it was visible. That didn't stop Goten from taking the seat next to him, dropping his backpack over the back of the chair. "Oh, I didn't know you read the newspaper," he commented, tilting his head in curiosity. He leaned up, trying to see what the prince was reading. "Checking out sport scores?"

"I am reading over all the murders that happened over the last day, and if you don't shut up, you'll be the next story," Vegeta gruffly informed the boy, not bothering to lower the newspaper. Goten blinked; for all the years he had spent in Vegeta's house, sometimes he was still caught off guard by the prince's bluntness. Bulma chuckled and patted his back, drawing his attention away.

"Don't mind him. My bots should have breakfast should be ready soon, if you haven't already eaten."

"Oh, thanks!" Goten said, smiling as he took a seat. "I've already had breakfast, but I wouldn't mind a little more!" He glanced up at a clock on the wall, then looked down at his own watch. "Hm. Trunks isn't ready yet?"

"He should be down soon. If he isn't, I'll send his father after him."

"Makes sense. He's gotta look good for his new girlfriend!" Goten happily announced. Vegeta didn't react even as Bulma spun back around to face Goten, her eyes wide.

"What? Girlfriend? Trunks has a girlfriend? Since when?" she demanded. Goten blinked a few times, realizing his mistake. He forced a chuckle, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

"Ah, did I say girlfriend?" he forced a laugh. Bulma's ice cold glare though quickly melted his spine and he lowered his arm, laying both palms on the table and forcing himself to swallow.

"Are you listening to this?" Bulma demanded, shifting her attention to her husband. Vegeta grunted with indifference, making Bulma sigh as she turned back to Goten. "Young man, you go upstairs and get Trunks down here, now."

"Yes ma'am," Goten immediately answered, disappearing in a flash up towards his best friend's room. Bulma watched him go, and then turned back to her husband. Without a word of warning, she snatched the newspaper right out of his hands. The prince's eyes widened as he looked up at his wife.

"Wake up, Vegeta, before I add you to the murder count."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, dismissively waving her off with one hand while he reached for his mug with the other. "Whatever. Where's the food?"

"Goten is sitting here saying that your eleven-year-old son has a girlfriend, and you don't care?"

"He has lots of female friends, what is the problem?" Vegeta demanded, trying hard to mask his confusion but unable to keep the subtle look from crossing his face for a second. Unfortunately, the only person on the planet who could catch the look was the one staring right at him.

Bulma exhaled, grabbing her own mug of coffee, though at the moment she would have preferred some strong liquor. "No, Vegeta. A girlfriend is a girl that he'd be dating, remember? Just like with Gohan and Videl, how before they got married, she was his girlfriend."

Vegeta stared back at her, the mask on his face unreadable. Finally, he snorted. "Woman, calm yourself, it's likely a childish infatuation. I highly doubt he wants to fuck the female."

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed. He raised an eyebrow, this time not bothering to hide his confusion.

"What?" he asked in bewilderment, right as the two boys appeared in the kitchen. Bulma and Vegeta both turned towards the boys, and both of their jaws dropped.

"Okay, Mom, Dad, look-"

"Trunks," Bulma started, blinking slowly. "What did you-"

"I don't have a real girlfriend or anything," Trunks blurted out. He forced a huge smile on his face, waving his hands innocently. "There's a girl at school, and she's cute, but that's it, and-"

"What the fuck did you do to your hair, boy?" Vegeta demanded.

"Oh," Trunks said, suddenly turning red. He shrugged, looking up toward the ceiling as though he could see his hair. Of course, he couldn't, because it was standing straight up, the light lavender color now a dark purple and glistening with hair gel. "Well, ah, I just wanted to try something new!"

"Hana thinks boys with spiky hair are cute," Goten chimed in, earning a hard fist on the top of his head from Trunks. "Yowch, Trunks!" he hollered, glaring at his friend.

"Shut up!" Trunks hissed.

"You did this to your hair because of a girl?" Bulma incredulously asked, cringing as she looked at the mess he'd made of his hair. It looked like a purple explosion had transpired on her son's head.

"Wellllll, it wasn't TOTALLY because of her, but um, Valentine's Day is tomorrow and I wanted to ask her to be my Valentine, and I wanted to look good!" Trunks excitedly explained.

"I'm going to train. I will eat later," Vegeta announced, standing up with his coffee and newspaper. As far as he was concerned, a Valentine's Day issue was a human issue, and the woman could handle it. Besides, if he had to look at that hideous hair his son was sporting for much longer, he was liable to tear it all off or burn it all off, but he figured that would also be in poor taste, at least so close to the boy's annual Valentine's Day dinner with his mother.

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled after him, but the prince had already made his hasty retreat. And he wasn't the only one with escape on the brain.

"Hey Mom, I'm gonna be late for school, I gotta go, I'll see you when I get home!" Trunks said in one rushed breath. Using his supernatural speed and fully aware that he was going to be in big trouble later for leaving with the discussion unresolved, he instantly grabbed a surprised Goten by the back of the shirt and flew off dragging the younger boy with him.

"Trunks Briefs, don't you DARE leave with your hair like that-!" the door shut behind both boys, making Bulma put her hands on her hips and scoff in disbelief. "That little shit," she muttered under her breath, stealing her husband's private nickname for their son.

But no one left Bulma Briefs hanging, not her husband, and damn sure not her eleven-year-old son.

Five hours later, Vegeta was doing pushups outside in the bright sunlight as he cooled down from his morning workout in the gravity room. His sweat was dripping into the fresh grass as his body slowly adjusted back to Earth's gravity; just a few more minutes and then he could shower and – most importantly – eat. Skipping breakfast was rare for him, and he was absolutely famished. But if there was one thing that would always trump his hunger, it was his discipline. He wouldn't eat until he finished what he was doing.

The prince growled low in his throat when he heard the cell phone near him start vibrating in the grass. Only two people on the planet had the number, and one of those people was in school. Smoothly switching to one handed pushups without breaking his flawless rhythm and technique, the prince reached over and grabbed the phone.

"What," he angrily demanded.

"Don't 'what' me, jackass. Can't your gorgeous wife call you during the day? Other men could only be so lucky to have someone like me calling them," Bulma smugly informed him.

"Hn. My wife only calls me when she wants me to do something or take care of something before she comes home from work."

"Well, maybe I do want something."

He growled low, "Out with it, then."

"I want you."

That certainly got his attention, making him stop his methodical pushups. Vegeta slowly moved over so he was sitting on the grass, suddenly intrigued. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice cocky as he smirked. "Other women could only be so lucky to have a husband like me that they could call whenever they're in the mood."

"Easy, I just want to get lunch with my sexy husband. No time for a quickie today, hot stuff. You'll just have to wait til later for that."

Vegeta exhaled, his face slowly burning in embarrassment. "Vulgar woman," he muttered.

Bulma laughed outright, "Right, anyway, meet me for lunch?"

"Hn. Whatever."

"Great, I'm by Trunks' school."

Thirty minutes later, Vegeta was walking down the sidewalk across from Trunks' school, having stuffed his hair under a baseball cap. He tried to keep the bewilderment off his face when he approached the strange car Bulma was in. Even though he recognized her ki, the prince still peered down through the glass to make sure it really was his wife. He did a double take when he saw that her blue hair was nowhere to be seen, curled blonde curls replacing them. Vegeta's nose twitched as he opened the passenger door and climbed into the car, slamming the door shut after him.

"Can you not slam the doors please? This rental cost a pretty penny, you know!" Bulma told him in exasperation, lowering her sunglasses a bit to peer at him. "Where are your shades?"

"What the hell did you do to your hair?" Vegeta demanded, wondering what had gotten into his family when it came to their hair. If they expected him to change his hair, ever, they were both going to be supremely disappointed.

"Nothing, it's a wig," Bulma answered with a smirk, smugly tossing her hair back. Vegeta unconsciously relaxed at the news. His wife had changed her hairstyle many times over the years, and he had never cared because it was always the color he liked the most. "Now remember, we're in a covert operation right now, so don't raise your ki."

Vegeta blinked, wondering if his wife had finally lost her mind. It was only then that he noticed the enormous binoculars on her lap. When he followed her line of sight towards the children in the schoolyard, one of whom was his son, he leaned his head back and groaned.

"Woman, you cannot be serious right now."

"Hey, we need to find out just who this Hana girl is, buddy," Bulma told him matter-of-factly. "There are lots of people who would just love to see me, or Capsule Corp, fail. One of them could've sent this kid to get close to Trunks, to find out my trade secrets."

Vegeta snorted. "And your solution is to what? Stalk the female child?"

"There's nothing wrong with getting some intel," she argued. Vegeta thoughtfully considered her words for a few moments, before snickering.

"Woman, you are just being paranoid. This is all nothing but a motherly crisis because the boy is maturing. Get used to it, woman. Before you know it, he'll be a man with a family of his own."

Bulma sighed deeply, looking over to where Trunks was playing with his classmates. "Yeah, he is growing up," she relented. "But you know what that means. It's time, Vegeta."

"Damn right it's time. Time to eat. Drive, woman, and take us to the nearest place with food," the Saiyan ordered.

"No, I mean it's time you have the talk with him."

He raised an eyebrow. "Talk?"

"You know, about sex, how babies are made, everything a young man needs to know."

"You must be joking," Vegeta snorted. Bulma reached up and removed her shades so they would be making clear eye contact, and after a few seconds, he realized she was dead serious. The prince scowled. "Why the hell would I ever talk to him about that? I never got a talk, I just figured it out on my own, like a real man."

"Sweetheart, I love you, but I'd rather our son not go down any path you went down when you were his age."

Vegeta's scowl worsened as he looked straight ahead, reflecting back on that time. Life had been savage, brutal and raw in those days. It was nothing that he ever wanted for his son. Bulma watched the way his eyes started getting distant, before reaching over and gently taking his hand in hers. The prince looked away from her completely, staring out his passenger window. He didn't return the hold, but he didn't pull his hand away either.

"He needs to learn how things work. He's got his first real crush, and while this one might be innocent-"

"-so innocent that you are here in disguise to spy on him?" he snidely interrupted.

Bulma scowled. "Anyway," she snapped, "that's not the point. The point is that it's his first crush and I'm sure that he'll have many more, so best to arm him with the right knowledge now."

"You talk about it like it's a battle."

"Love is a battle, baby," she teased. Vegeta rolled his eyes, not taking her bait. Bulma's smile waned and she tightened her grip on his hand. "Vegeta, what is it? Talk to me."

Vegeta considered his words carefully, before musing, "You know as much about this as I do. Why don't you just talk to the boy instead?"

"Well I definitely could, but hon, it'd be easier for him to hear it from his dad."

That was definitely true, he silently conceded that. He didn't need to look back to feel his son's ki, vibrant and dominant among his friends. The boy really was growing up, and his wife was right, this was only the beginning. But the extent of knowledge he had to pass down to Trunks involved combat and survival, not how to resolve conflicts with friends, approach girls, or navigate through school. His son might have had Saiyan blood but he was growing up in a human world, and he needed a father who understood that world. Unfortunately for the boy, he didn't have that father. Vegeta raised his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he did.

"It'll be okay, you'll see. You're not the first man to have to do this for his son. You'll be alright," Bulma assured him. Vegeta lowered his hand and turned his head to make eye contact with her, earning him her best smile, a reminder of a promise made nearly a decade ago that he wouldn't be alone in this. For the moment, his worries were eased.

Vegeta scoffed, pulling his hand away from hers to cross his arms over his chest as he glared straight ahead. "Of course I will. Now let's get some goddamn food already," he impatiently ordered. He surely wasn't going to have that conversation with Trunks on an empty stomach.

Bulma's smile only spread as she turned the car on. "Alright, alright…"

Later that day, Trunks slowly pushed open the front door to the compound, peering inside. He did a ki sweep and determined that his father was in the gravity room. That was good, his dad wouldn't notice him sneaking in. His mother, on the other hand, was-

-suddenly right next to him, her hand on his ear as she hauled him inside. Trunks howled in surprise as he stumbled in, grimacing at the pain in his ear. At the moment, he was wondering if the woman really was human. That grip on his ear hurt like hell.

"Ow, Mom!" he cried out. Bulma released him, and Trunks gulped as he stared up at her. His mother was still taller than him, and in that moment, it felt like she was looming, making her even more intimidating than she already was. In retrospect, he should've just flown straight to his bedroom window and snuck in that way.

"Young man, today was the first and the last time that you run off without us ending a conversation, got it?" Bulma sternly informed him, poking him in the shoulder. Trunks instantly nodded, looking down.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"If you're sorry, then listen to what I'm going to tell you. One, if you want to spike your hair, talk to me and I'll help you spike it. Believe me, kid, no one in this family knows how to look good more than I do. Two, you don't need to change any part of how you look to make a girl like you. You hear me?"

"Uh huh," Trunks nodded, before beaming up at his mother, eager to change the subject. "Can we go out later and buy Valentine's Day cards, please? I want to buy one for Hana."

"You have to talk to your father first, then we'll go."

Trunks' smile fell, replaced with a look of concern as he gulped again. "I'm still in trouble?" he warily asked.

"No," Bulma chuckled, smiling a little as she ruffled his gel-laden hair atrocity. "But you do need to talk to him. Come find me when you're done, and we'll go get your Valentine's Day cards."

"Awesome, thanks Mom," Trunks sighed in relief. Bulma leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, uncaring that she was leaving lipstick on the boy. He smiled at her before she left the room, and then figured he might as well go see his dad right away. Besides, the sooner he got it over with, the sooner they could go buy cards.

A minute later, and Trunks was walking up the ramp to the gravity chamber. He levitated up to peer in through the oval glass portal, expecting to see his father rigorously training. The boy blinked in surprise though when he saw that Vegeta was sitting down on the floor, cross-legged, looking over some documentation with intense concentration. Curious, he levitated closer to the glass to try to make out what his father was reading that was more important than his afternoon training session, making sure to keep his ki undetectable.

You going to come in, or are you just going to stare? Vegeta demanded telepathically without looking up from what he was reading, startling his son.

I was trying to hide my ki, how'd you know I was here? Trunks asked in astonishment. The prince scoffed.

You have a lot to learn, boy.

Mom said you wanted to talk?

Yes, but go shower first. I don't want to see you with that ridiculous hair.

Huh, kind of weird, considering your hairstyle, Trunks accidentally projected, his eyes widening in fear when Vegeta looked up with a dark, murderous look in his eyes. He had meant to keep that thought to himself; he sorely needed to practice his telepathy more. Ah, I mean—I'm gonna go shower now! Trunks nervously projected, instantly vanishing from sight.

Vegeta exhaled slowly through his nose, shaking his head. He looked back down at the printouts he had for reference- "How to Talk to Your Son About Sex", "Giving Your Kid THE TALK", "Explaining Sex to Children". Bulma had been right, affirming what he had known his whole life: intel was always of the utmost importance, and he was going to be prepared. Still, he rubbed at one of his temples in exasperation. He was going to need some alcohol to get through this.

Half an hour later, a freshly showered Trunks was bounding down the stairs. His hair definitely felt lighter, and though he hadn't minded his crazy haired look, he hadn't felt completely right with it. His usual look was much better, and he mentally agreed with what Bulma had told him earlier. No sense in changing what he liked about his appearance for anyone else.

Trunks did a ki sweep again, and this time placed his father in the kitchen. The boy headed over, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Vegeta was sitting in the adjoining dining room, at the head of the table with a bowl of fruit in the middle of said table.

"Oh sweet, snacks!" Trunks happily exclaimed, immediately heading over and snatching up a banana. He had barely lifted the banana when Vegeta swiped it from him.

"This fruit is not for eating, boy. Sit down," the prince sternly ordered. "Now."

Aw, crap, I'm in trouble after all, what did I do now? Trunks anxiously thought to himself as he took a seat on Vegeta's left hand side. Does he know about that lamp I broke?

"What lamp?" Vegeta demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Aw, crap," Trunks hissed to himself. He really was off his telepathy game that day.

"You know what? I don't even want to know," Vegeta muttered, letting his son off the hook for once. After all, Bulma had millions of lamps. If she hadn't noticed that one was broken, then he certainly wasn't going to point it out to her. "That's not the reason why you're here."

"Okay," Trunks replied with a nod, trying not to show how confused he was. "So uh, what did you want to talk about?"

"Son," Vegeta started, squaring his shoulders and making eye contact with the boy next to him, as though he was about to deliver strict orders for a purge. "Soon you're going to start going through changes. You're going to start becoming a man."

"Uh, yeah," Trunks agreed with a nod, wondering why his dad was acting so weird. He eyed the bowl of fruit again. "Can I please just have half of a banana?"

"No you may not, goddamnit," Vegeta snapped, making Trunks sigh. The boy scratched at his ear absent-mindedly as Vegeta cleared his throat. "Now pay attention. What do you know about sex?"

"Oh, yeah, I know what that is," Trunks casually said with a shrug, earning a stunned look from his father.

"You do?"

"Yeah, it's like adult dancing, that's what Goten's parents said when he asked them," Trunks confidently answered. Vegeta's eye started to twitch, and he reached up to rub at his eye, making a mental note to kick Goku in the face in their next sparring session.

"No, that is not right. Kakarot apparently couldn't tell the difference between males and females when he was your age, so do not listen to him about anything involving sex or relationships, understand?" Vegeta gruffly demanded. Trunks nodded, and Vegeta paused momentarily before hesitantly asking, "…You do know the difference between a male and a female, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Trunks scoffed, sounding insulted. Relieved, Vegeta nodded. At least he wasn't starting from zero.

"Good. Now, listen. Forget the bullshit about buying babies. That's not where they come from. Infants happen when a man and a woman have sex. Follow so far?"

"Uh, I guess."

"Now, you have a penis; what do women have?"

"Pillows! Duh."

"Right – what? Pillows? What the hell are you talking about?" Vegeta asked in exasperation.

Trunks sighed dramatically, wondering if he had to explain everything to his dad. "You know," Trunks answered, gesturing out in front of his chest, making the motion for breasts. "Pillows. That's what Mom calls 'em. We don't have that."

Vegeta ran one hand down his face, muttering in his foreign language to himself. Reaching over to his six-pack of beer, he pulled a bottle out and ripped off the cap with his teeth. He took a good chug, letting it go down before he deadpanned, "Trunks, they are not called pillows."

"Oh! Right. Gohan called them coconuts once."

Vegeta nearly shattered his bottle of beer as a vein visibly began to throb on his temple. "He did what?"

"Well he didn't know Goten and I were there, we were sneaking up on him to surprise him but he was with Videl. He told her she had nice coconuts and that they tasted good, and we could tell she didn't have a top on, so we figured that's what he meant. We left though, we didn't want to get in trouble."

"Well I'll just file that under information about Gohan I did not need to know," Vegeta drawled, raising his beer for another drink. He chugged the rest of the bottle in one shot, much to the amazement of the boy watching.

"Can I try that? Just a sip?" Trunks eagerly asked.

"Not today, now listen up. I won't get into the technical details or the explicit terminology today. I'm only going to explain the gist so you're not ignorant to how life works, understand? Do you have any questions thus far? No? Good," Vegeta stated, not giving his son a chance to speak as he reached into the bowl of fruit. Trunks had a look of bewilderment on his face as Vegeta pulled out the banana he'd been craving along with a sliced apple.

"First of all, they're not called pillows or coconuts. They are called breasts. But they're not the only difference between men and women. Basically, this is what men have," Vegeta informed his son, raising the banana to be clear. "And this is what women have," he added, raising the apple in his other hand, which had been sliced in a peculiar way.

"We all have bananas?" Trunks asked in confusion while Vegeta peeled the banana.

"I meant, this is what most people have in their pants. This represents a penis," he slowly explained, bringing the banana closer to Trunks.

"Ohhhh!" Trunks exclaimed, nodding. "The banana looks like what we have, and the apple looks like what girls have?"


"Gross," the boy muttered, looking at the apple in disgust.

Vegeta closed his eyes again, feeling his vein pulsing. "Well, you might change your mind about that later on in your life. Now, shut up and listen. There are different ways you can have sex, but the one that will lead to babies is this." With that, the prince abruptly tried shoving the banana into the apple.

"Fuck," he hissed when the banana became smashed and fell apart at the half. The prince tried to reattach the banana, but it was a lost cause. Trunks winced, one hand unconsciously going over his own crotch.

Vegeta cursed, and then lost his patience as he snarled, "Well, whatever, you get the damn idea, boy. The man inserts his penis into the woman's vagina, and then if the female accepts the seed, there is a baby that comes out of the female however many months later. If you don't want to be a father – which you better not be for a long, long time – you take measures to stop it. There are ways to still have sex without making a child. Any questions?"

"Uhhh…why would any guy ever put his penis inside there? That sounds gross," Trunks commented with a disgusted look on his face.

Vegeta snickered at that. "Yes, well, we shall see if you feel the same way a few years from now."

Trunks nodded, realization slowly dawning on him. "So, the baby grows inside the girl? Is that why Mom's stomach was big when she was pregnant with me?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Because you put your penis in Mom?"

Vegeta lowered the smashed fruit he had, reaching for a fresh beer. He grunted in acknowledgement, twisting the cap off, one eye on the clock. On the one hand he wanted this conversation over with as soon as possible, but on the other hand, the more questions he answered now, the less he'd have to answer later.

"So you musta wanted to be a father, otherwise you said you would've done something to stop it, right?"

Vegeta gazed at the boy, forcing his face to stay neutral. No, he had not wanted him, but Trunks didn't need to know all those details, even if the prince's perception had obviously changed since that time. Perhaps someday, when the boy was a man, he could have a man-to-man talk with him. The prince always felt as though he owed Trunks an apology, even if the boy had been too young at the time to be aware of his father's rejection. But he had his hands full with the current line of conversation. That one could wait.

"Right," he finally lied, nodding and forcing back the guilt that came with lying to his son. "When you're mature enough to start wanting to have sex, you come talk to me first. You aren't getting any female pregnant for a long time, understand? I'll tell you what to do when that time comes." Trunks nodded, biting his lower lip thoughtfully, staying silent. Vegeta sighed, "You are just as transparent as your mother. Say what you want to say."

"Well…I was just wonderin'…can you do the sex thing with Mom so she can get pregnant and I can have a little brother?" Trunks eagerly blurted out.

Cracks were spreading in Vegeta's beer bottle, but Bulma called out to them before he could respond. "Hey, where are my two handsome Saiyans?"

"We're in here!" Trunks called back. A few moments later, Bulma appeared in the doorway, smiling at them both.

"Hey guys, didn't mean to interrupt…" she paused, eyeing the smashed fruit on the table in confusion.

"Don't ask," Vegeta grumbled, bringing his beer up for another drink.

Bulma laughed, "I won't, just wanted to make sure everything here was going alright."

"Yeah! Dad was talking to me about sex," Trunks excitedly informed his mother, to which Bulma smiled and nodded in approval.

"Oh, good. Well, I won't interrupt then-"

"Mom, wait!" Trunks cried out. The boy slipped out of his chair and ran up to his mother, grabbing both of her hands, his blue eyes wide with excitement as he grinned up at her. "Can you and Dad have sex so I can have a little brother?"

"Oh, um, wow," Bulma stuttered out, uncharacteristically left at a loss for words. "You still want a little brother?"

"Yeah! That'd be sooo cool, and I thought you had to buy him, but you two could just make him so it's even better!" Trunks said happily, already imagining having a little brother walking around who would look up to him and admire him the same way Goten did with Gohan.

"Enough with the talk of a brother already," Vegeta snidely chimed in, getting both of their attention. "It's not going to happen, kid. Enough."

"But why not?" Trunks whined. "It seems easy, you just smash the banana into the apple! I mean, you two obviously have done it at least once if I'm here, right?"

"Blasted fruits," Vegeta whispered, raising one hand to cover his eyes. Just his luck, Trunks was unabashed and would likely be just as vulgar as his mother.

Undeterred, Trunks spun back to his mother. "Mom? Please?"

"Honey, it's a lot more complicated than that. Your dad and I would have to talk about it more-"

"There is nothing to talk about," Vegeta snarled, standing abruptly. "You are not having a sibling," he informed Trunks, not leaving any room for argument. His eyes shifted to his wife's as he angrily added, "End of discussion already."

He left the room abruptly, and though Bulma would have gone after him, she figured that could wait. She was more concerned with the disappointed boy standing in front of her.

"It's alright, sweetie. I'll talk to him." Trunks nodded sullenly, so Bulma reached down to him and ruffled his hair. "How about we go get some cards for your classmates, and a special one for Hana? And I can answer any other questions you might have about what your dad told you?"

"Alright," Trunks nodded again, feeling a little better as Bulma led him away.

While mother and son went Valentine's Day shopping, Vegeta spent the rest of the evening training, putting the whole awkward ordeal behind him. He had missed a good chunk of his usual routine in preparing for his conversation with his son, a conversation that would surely resume in even more excruciating detail once the boy finished puberty and his needs fully developed. He himself had been around 17 when he finally started becoming interested in sex, so hopefully that time was still distant for Trunks. But at least now the boy was wiser than he was yesterday.

It was right around Trunks' bedtime when Bulma brought him back home. When Vegeta sensed their arrival, he started his routine to wind down his workout. It'd been a long day, and he wanted nothing more than to eat and then get to bed. But first, he wanted to check in with Trunks.

The prince found his son in his room a short while later. Trunks was sitting crosslegged on his bed in his underwear and a t-shirt, holding his Valentine's Day card in his hands, a scowl on his face as he stared down at it. Vegeta leaned in the doorframe, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival, startling the boy out of his concentration.

Vegeta grunted, frowning in disapproval as he crossed his arms over his chest. "A warrior should always be aware of his surroundings, Trunks," he chided.

"I know," Trunks sighed, looking back down at his card as he lapsed into silence.

"I didn't get the chance to ask you, if you understood everything we discussed today."

"Yeah, I think so."

"And you're aware that you won't be doing any of that until you're older, correct?"

"Oh yeah, it's gross, I probably won't ever do anything like that," Trunks replied as he shook his head, crinkling his face in disgust. Vegeta smirked a little at his boy's innocence, and he was turning to leave when Trunks looked up. "Hey, Dad?" The prince paused, looking back and raising an eyebrow.

"How come you don't want another kid?"

Vegeta looked away, exhaling through his nose. The real answer was too complex to give to the boy, at least without going into further details about his past. Trunks didn't know anything about that yet, but it was only a matter of time. Finally, he looked back at the boy sitting crosslegged on his Batman bedset. He didn't need to give the complete answer, but that didn't mean he couldn't be honest with his son.

"You're enough," he gruffly stated. Trunks nodded in understanding, looking down as his father flicked off the light to his room. "Now go to bed and don't let me hear you awake, understand?"

"I understand," Trunks responded, tucking his card under his pillow as Vegeta closed the door. As soon as the door clicked shut, the boy crawled under his covers and rolled onto his side, not needing to hide his smile anymore.

Meanwhile, Bulma was in her king sized bed, engrossed in her latest romance novel. She didn't look up when her husband finally walked in, instead just turning the page of her book. Vegeta paused and looked at his wife, but when she didn't acknowledge his presence, he scowled and went into their private bathroom for a quick shower.

But when he emerged ten minutes later in only his towel, he still wasn't acknowledged. Vegeta dried off, and then went over to his side of the bed. He tossed his towel aside and got in under the covers, moving until he was sitting inches away from his wife. Still, Bulma ignored him. The prince finally lowered his face to nuzzle her arm, but she pulled away from him.

"Not tonight," she informed him, turning a page in her book. "I'm not in the mood."

Vegeta slowly sighed. He pulled himself up straighter and then leaned back on the headboards, eyes drifting up to the ceiling as he asked the gods, kais, and whoever else might be listening for patience. "Now what did I do?" he demanded.

"You mean besides being a jackass? Nothing."

"What in the galaxy are you on about, woman?" he asked defensively, racking his brain for something he'd done, but he was drawing a blank.

"The way you shot down Trunks when he asked for a kid brother," Bulma said, finally closing her book to turn and fix her husband with a glare.

Vegeta snorted dismissively, shaking his head. "So this is about sparing the boy's feelings? Trunks is fine, he'll live."

"No, this isn't about his feelings, it's about us. It's about you making decisions for the both of us without talking to me about it first."

"What the hell is this about, Bulma?" Vegeta demanded, bewildered now.

"It's about you deciding on your own that we're not having any more kids."

"Gods, enough with this fucking nonsense with having more children," he snarled, his patience finally snapping. "I am done hearing about it, you hear me, woman?"

"See? You see?" Bulma snapped, sitting up and poking him hard in the shoulder. "That's it, right there. You made the decision for both of us on your own, without me."

"We talked about this before!" he shot back.

"What? Once last year during Gohan's engagement party? Oh I remember that conversation, I've been thinking about it all night. You shut me down then too, but I let it go then, you know why?" Bulma asked him, leaning in closer to him. Vegeta recognized that look on her face and he wisely bit his tongue, shaking his head. "Because I remember what it was like before we got married. I know how long it took you to accept Trunks, and that was fine because you didn't owe me a damn thing back then."

"And what? Now that we're married I owe you another kid?" he sneered.

"No, of course you don't," Bulma sighed in exasperation, brushing some loose blue strands out of her face. Between the infuriating man in her bed and the increasingly mischievous boy they were raising, she was sure to grow gray hair soon. "But is it too much to ask for you to at least give me the time of day to tell you how I feel about it? We're freakin' married now, Vegeta. It goes both ways now, in case you forgot. If you still feel the same afterwards, that's fine, but I think my voice should at least be heard."

"There's nothing to talk about, you just said it yourself, you're not going to change my mind so what's the fucking point? We're not having any more kids and that is final."

"But why? Why don't you want any?" Bulma challenged, undeterred.

"Because I don't," he snapped, his voice rising as he added, "Enough about this already!"

"You know what, you can pull that bullshit with Trunks but you can't pull it with me. If you're gonna act like this and not even consider how I might feel about it, then at least give me a good reason, I know you have one and you owe me at least that much!"

"Look, female. All I want to do is sleep. I am done talking about this."

"Yeah? Well how about you sleep somewhere else then, so I won't be bothering you?"

"Fantastic idea," Vegeta sarcastically responded. Bulma exhaled slowly through her nose, shaking her head as she picked up her book again while Vegeta hunted for the closest pair of shorts he could find. She heard him hastily pull some on, and a second later, the door closed behind him.

Bulma sighed in defeat. Her fight was likely in vain, because odds were that Vegeta was right; she likely couldn't change his mind. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. She just wanted him to hear her and consider her for a moment before shutting the idea down completely.

She shook her head again, looking for the line in her book where she had left off.

If only real life could be as easy as in her books.

At least one thing was always easy: her annual Valentine's Day dinner with her son. Bulma looked forward to it every year for two reasons: one, it let her spend some good quality time with her favorite hybrid Saiyan, and two, she always used the moment to teach her son how to behave like a gentleman out on a date. Vegeta believed it was never too early to begin physical training with their son, and she likewise believed it was never too early to instill etiquette into the boy, especially with the enormous inheritance he was going to get.

"Trunks, baby, you're smacking," Bulma informed her son the following evening during their dinner. Trunks instantly stopped his loud chewing, brushing at his mouth with his napkin while he swallowed.

"Sorry, just hungry," he said, looking back down to cut into his steak, doing it exactly as his mother taught him. His lavender hair was spiked up again, but this time, it was under Bulma's guidance so it looked much better and much more refined. That along with his neatly pressed white dress shirt and tie, and Bulma knew that she and Vegeta had done well in making themselves a handsome young man.

Mostly from her flawless genes though, she was sure.

"I know, that's your father's side talking," Bulma knowingly said, digging into her own food. "So, how did things go with Hana? Did you give her your card?"

"Mhmm," Trunks nodded, closing his eyes happily as he grinned. "She liked it! She was my Valentine for the day," he triumphantly informed his mother.

"Is that right?"

Trunks nodded again, and then looked sheepish as a blush crept over his face. "And we…held hands during recess," he hesitantly admitted, warily watching his mother for a reaction.

"Oh wow, sounds like it's getting pretty serious," Bulma said with a smile. Trunks relaxed and shrugged.

"Eh, she's moving soon. Going to North City next week I think."

"Aw, that's unfortunate."

"It's okay, at least she's gonna keep my card! Plus I still have all my other friends."

"Yes, you do. Plus all that will come when you're older anyway."

"Just so long as it doesn't come with the banana apple thing, that's sooo gross," Trunks said, shuddering in disgust as he looked down at his food, getting another forkful ready. "I don't know how you grown-ups do that stuff, ugh."

"I hope you feel like that for a long time, kid," Bulma laughed.

"He better," Vegeta's gruff voice suddenly cut in, startling both his wife and son.

"Man, Dad, I didn't even sense you!" Trunks marveled, before swearing, "One day, I'm gonna sneak up on you and you won't know I'm there."

"Tch, got a ways to go til you get to that point, boy," Vegeta snickered.

He eyed his wife, but she was busy ignoring him by trying to cut the meat on her own plate. Vegeta scowled. It was Valentine's Day, and while the couple didn't celebrate it outright, they did at least usually have either breakfast or lunch together that day. But instead, he had gotten nothing but radio silence with his wife ignoring him all day. He figured if ever he was going to make amends, tonight would be the best night to do so.

Vegeta pulled out some money from the backpocket of his black dress pants, leafing through the bills. He often helped his father-in-law with translation work, a skill that came so easy for him it made him feel awkward earning money for it. But Dr. Briefs insisted, and in moments like these, he didn't mind.

"Here, kid," he said, tossing a few bills on the table in front of Trunks. "Go see a movie with Goten or something."

"Awesome!" Trunks gleefully cried out, snatching up the bills, eager to bolt. Catching the look from his mother though, he instead stood up slowly, pulling his chair a little further out for his father. He then smiled at them both. "Have a good evening, Mom, Dad," he politely said, before tucking the money into his pants pocket and strolling off towards the exit.

Once he had left and Vegeta was sure he was heading towards Goku's house, the prince went over and took the boy's seat. He pored over the food on the table as he smoothed down his own white dress shirt, worn only to adhere to the dress code in the restaurant. Bulma fought against her smile at how much Trunks had looked like his father earlier with his spiked hair.

"Where the hell is the alcohol? You two didn't order any?" Vegeta demanded, brow furrowing. Bulma's smile disappeared before it ever formed.

"Well, at least one man in this family will have some manners," she grumbled. "What do you want, Vegeta? I'd rather not argue with you today of all days."

The prince picked up Trunks' glass of soda, chugging it all down in one shot. He exhaled slowly as he put the glass down.

"You've been ignoring me all day," he finally stated, his eyes still on his glass.


"It's Valentine's Day."

Bulma guffawed, "You have never cared about Valentine's Day, ever. We don't even swap gifts or do anything special on this day. Now, suddenly, you care about the day?"

"We usually have at least one meal together on this day. We have for nearly a decade," he informed her, his features hard as he looked back at her. "I don't enjoy having my routine interrupted, female."

Bulma lowered her utensils to the table, looking around for a server. She needed a good martini. Unfortunately, all the servers were preoccupied, so she turned back to look at her husband. The two stared at each other in silence, both of them searching the other's eyes. Finally, she broke the eye contact first, absent-mindedly readjusting her dress.

"Is that all you came here for, Vegeta?" she finally asked. "To get a meal with me?"

A muscle in Vegeta's jaw twitched as he leaned forward, as much as he could while remaining sitting. He looked down at the half-eaten dinner Trunks had left behind, but his mind was elsewhere. When his silence stretched on, Bulma looked back over at him, her features softening with curiosity.

"Back then, before…all this," Vegeta started, turning his head a little to the side as he tried ignoring the images in his mind. "Any child that a soldier birthed or fathered was instantly claimed by Frieza if they showed a high enough power level at birth. If they didn't, they were executed. Either way, he ensured that you would never see the child again. I know what it does to people. I've seen it and I've also been the man to destroy families. I know well what it does."

"I know, sweetheart," she said, covering one of his hands with her own. "But it's not like that anymore."

"I've destroyed too many lives, Bulma" he quietly admitted, still avoiding eye contact with her. "I have no idea how many survivors are out there in the universe right now, who would come to this planet in a heartbeat if they knew I was here. You and the boy are by default instant targets, just for being in my life. The boy was a mistake-"

"Hey now," Bulma started defensively, and he raised his free hand up to clarify.

"I meant that we never planned for him, not that I regret my son. But to willingly bring another child into the world…" he shook his head, struggling to wrap his head around the thought. "One is hard enough," he ground out.

"I hear what you're saying, but you're always here. We're safe with you, Vegeta, and you're doing great with Trunks. Besides, since Buu, everything's been peaceful. No crazy psycho aliens to be seen."

"Except the one across from you," he dryly commented, finally looking up to see her roll her eyes.

"Oh, stop, you know what I mean."


"Thank you though, for your honesty," she genuinely told him. Vegeta nodded curtly. "Can I tell you how I feel about it?"

"Get on with it already," the prince grumbled, slowly straightening up in his seat as he instinctively squared his shoulders. He pulled his hand away from hers, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited. Bulma dabbed the napkin at the corner of her lips, careful not to smear her lipstick.

"I've been thinking about this, and the first thing that comes to mind is Trunks. Even before he asked for a sibling, I thought it'd be nice for him to have one. I know when I was a kid, before I met Goku and the gang, it was always just me. It would've been nice to have a sibling, you know?"

Vegeta shook his head, frowning as he found himself unable to relate, but he remained silent, prompting Bulma to continue.

"Another thing, is that I won't be able to have kids forever. At a certain point, I'll be too old, and that'll be that. When that time hits, even if you changed your mind, there wouldn't be anything I could do about it, unless you wanted to adopt."

"I definitely did not go over that with the boy in our talk yesterday."

"That's alright, we'll keep talking to him. Though it doesn't seem he was all too impressed with your banana apple smashing."

"I didn't mean for the goddamn banana to break."

"Spoken like a true man."

"Bah, whatever. At least he doesn't think you buy infants now."

"Oh, and that's the last thing."

Vegeta looked at his wife warily. "You want to buy a child?"

Bulma blinked. "What? No!" she laughed. "What do I look like, someone who helps child trafficking?"

Vegeta shook his head, keeping to himself that he had no idea what child trafficking was, unless she meant having children direct traffic. He made a mental note to do a search online for that later.

"What I meant was, with Trunks…you missed a lot, Vegeta." The prince nodded in acceptance, looking down. Bulma's look softened as she was reminded of her son. "Hey, I don't resent you for that. I never have. But I do have to admit, doing it again, with you by my side the whole time…it'd be pretty nice."

"So you want another child then."

"I wouldn't say it's a definite yes, but I think it'd be really nice. I'm open to it."

Vegeta nodded again, and the silence they fell into was much more comfortable this time as they both considered what the other had said.

The prince looked up when a server went past him, catching his eye. He gestured towards himself and Bulma, ordering, "Two of your best martinis."

"Yes, sir, right away," the server said with a polite nod, walking off as he took mental note of the drinks. Bulma gave her husband a smile.

"So? What are your thoughts?"

Vegeta drummed his fingers against the table, frowning as he watched a martini be placed in front of him. He reached up and plucked out an olive, tossing it in his mouth.

"I'm not saying yes…but…I'm not saying no either," Vegeta finally relented, unable to deny that the thought of getting another chance to be there for another child right from the very beginning wasn't too awful, all things considering.

"Who knows, if we actually did it, we might get a daughter this time around," Bulma teased, giving him a wink.

A daughter. The thought alone had Vegeta immediately reaching for his drink.

"Let's hope not, for the child's sake."

"Please, if we ever had a daughter, she'd have you wrapped around her little finger."

"Whatever," he growled, making her laugh.

"Happy Valentine's Day?" Bulma offered, raising her glass to him. Vegeta rolled his eyes, but humored her and raised his in return, before downing his entire martini in one shot.

Another child, he mused, tasting the words and actually contemplating them, this time considering not just his opinions on the matter, but also his wife's.

He found that the words didn't sound too bad after all.