A/N: I own nothing but the plot. enjoy! (read the note at the bottom for more info on the story)
The first time his mate was pregnant, he stayed away. Granted, he had a good reason to, training to combat the Androids and all. He wouldn't have been able to afford the time to properly care for her, and if were to be completely honest with himself, back then, he didn't really want to.
Now, however, was a different story. He couldn't use the weak excuse of training; Majin Buu had been defeated, Earth was enjoying a time of peace, and worst of all, he had to be there this time due to that idiot Earthling contract he had so stupidly signed exactly four years ago, one month after his second resurrection from death.
Bulma had pestered him about it, that contract. She, on the other hand, referred to it as a "marriage licence". As a proud man who held stubbornly onto his saiyan roots, Vegeta had no desire to sign anything to bond himself with this particular human. He couldn't understand it - saiyans mated for life! He had already established himself as her mate, what with remaining on earth, protecting her and her boy from predators, and having no desire to stray. Wasn't that clear enough to her? Of course not, because when Bulma wanted something, Bulma always got it.
Even if it did cause a blow to his ego. And sanity, since she practically forced him into it. And she made a desperate case for it too, stating that being separated from him once was torturous enough. A boy needed his father, and she needed to keep up public appearances, as it would do no good for her image to be the mother of a bastard child. How anyone could think the offspring of a saiyan prince was a bastard was unbelievable, and he was ready to blast off the head of whoever threatened his family. But he did understand Bulma's arguments, and he did, after all, commit suicide and left her and Trunks defenceless. So he signed the stupid contract.
And what a dumb move that was! That vixen had tricked him. With her pretty eyes, her bright hair, and her gorgeous body, she lured him into a life he never wanted, playing the role of family man. He had no idea this marriage contract had so many unwritten rules, such as showing up to business functions, accompanying his family to parties, making an effort to be civil to those he disdained, and, worst of all, tolerating Bulma's friends and coworkers. He could care less for the coworkers, and he knew the feeling was mutual as most employees of Capsule Corps were completely terrified of him. But to make an effort to be kind to the likes of Kakarot, the midget friend of his with the Android wife, and that weakling ex-mate of all people, was quite unbearable to him.
And now, to top it all off, he had to play father again. He had already done it one time, and honestly, he didn't really want to do it again. He couldn't really recall ever being there during Bulma's first pregnancy, so he wasn't exactly prepared. He had no idea how demanding a woman could be, how irritating and irritated she could be, how her appetite could rival his own, and how emotional she always seemed to be. She demanded everything from him, and he couldn't well stay away this time without an excuse. Plus, it was probably his fault she was in this state. His seed was too strong, and impregnated his human wife's weak uterus.
What he was least prepared for was informing his son about the situation. But at least he didn't have to do it alone; he had expressed to Bulma that he had absolutely no desire to even speak, and that she would do all the explaining, which was fine by her since he never spoke much anyway. So there he found himself, learning against the wall beside the door, inside Trunk's room, with his wife sitting on the bed, and their son ignoring his parents, all of his attention focused on the computer game he was currently playing.
"Trunks, please take off the headphones, your father and I have something to tell you," Bulma said docilely from the bed, trying to get a reaction out of the boy.
"Trunks, sweetie, can you hear me?" she asked, getting up and waving her hands in front of his face. It was as if he couldn't even see her.
Vegeta scoffed at her continuous attempts to get Trunks' attention. He found it amusing how much his son's concentration level had improved since that embarrassment with Abo and Cado a few years ago. But now was not the time to exert this concentration level, and the saiyan prince was already at the end of his fuse in terms of holding back his frustration with telling the boy he was going to have another sibling. So he strode towards his son, yanked the back of his computer chair until he flew across the room (chair and all), with his headphones askew across his shoulders and unplugged from the computer.
He could hardly hold back his smirk at the look of astonishment on Trunks' face. "What the hell was that for, dad?" Trunks exclaimed, much accusation in his tone. He struggled to get up and out from the indent he made in the wall.
The saiyan grunted, but let his wife speak for the both of them. "Trunks, we have something to tell you."
"Alright, fine, whatever, just get on with it", he replied, quickly replanting his seat in front of the computer. He was about to snap his headphones back on before they were snatched away by his father.
"Don't be so rude to your mother, boy!" Vegeta said icily.
"You're rude to her all the time!"
"That's because she's not my mother! Now show some proper respect."
He noticed lately that the brat had become increasingly aggravated, not only towards his mother, but to everyone. Bulma had explained that the boy's hormones were acting up in a human phase called puberty. Vegeta had scoffed at the idea. His boy may have had human genetics, but he was half saiyan too. Trunks couldn't possibly succumb to such human weakness as puberty. It didn't even sound like a worthy disease.
"Thank you. Vegeta, that was very nice of you to stick up for me," Bulma said, flashing him a flirty wink and smile. It wasn't that he was rude to her, and if he was, then she made rude comments back at him too. It's just that being rude was the way he was most comfortable with in showing affection for his wife.
He grunted in response, and let her carry on.
"As I was saying, Trunks, your father and I have some news."
The brat eyed her suspiciously. "Good or bad?"
"That depends on how well you take it. But good for us!" She motioned between herself and her husband.
"Don't tell me you're pregnant, mom," Trunks guffawed, his smile cracking on his previously angered face. It surprised Vegeta that that would be the boy's first guess, but he had nailed it. Bulma, too, seemed shocked to hear it. When the boy got no response, he continued. "Seriously you guys? You're going to have another kid?"
Bulma snapped out of her reveries. "Yes, Trunks. Your father and I are expecting a second child."
"Why?" he asked, not angry, but confused. "I thought you two were done with all that stuff."
"You know," Trunks said, avoiding his mother's eye, "the whole raising a kid stuff. I mean, I'm basically grown. You're practically done with me! What do you two want another kid for? Unless it wasn't planned, this makes more sense, considering how old you are. Especially you, mom, even though I know dad's supposedly older. You're showing it more so than he is."
The more the boy rattled on, the more red his mother's face grew. This time, Vegeta couldn't hold back his chuckle. Calling Bulma Brief "old" was not favourable in the Brief household, as the woman prided herself in her youthful looks. While he did acknowledge that she aged better than most women of her age (he compared her with Kakarot shrew of a mate), he also had to agree with his son in that his wife was gaining the odd wrinkle.
"You hold your tongue, you rude little boy!" Bulma exploded, eyes bulging from their sockets. "I'm still beautiful, and don't you dare utter another sound about aging! You'll be glad to have my youth when you become my age!"
"Well," Trunks said, moving away from his mother, "I take after dad, so I can only assume that I'll retain my looks better than you. No offense, mom."
Before Bulma had the chance to seize the boy around his throat for yet another quip at her age, Vegeta had quickly moved to block her from such actions.
"Control yourself, woman!" he growled, glaring at both her and the boy. "You're in no state to have your emotions go through the roof!"
When she had finally calmed down, she pushed him lightly away from her, brushed her hair back, and composed herself in front of her son. "Well, there you have it, Trunks. You'll be a big brother in approximately eight months, and whether that is good or bad news to you, I could care less."
"I'm happy for you, mom!" Trunks exclaimed hastily, moving forward and giving his mother an awkward hug. "Really! It's just a bit of a shock, I guess. I mean, I always wanted another brother or something, but I figured that you just didn't want to reproduce anymore, since most siblings are you know, closer in age compared to being eleven years apart or whatever."
Bulma sniffed at her son's form of apology, but smiled nonetheless, returning the boy's hug with a more affectionate one.
"And I suppose congratulations go to you too, dad," Trunks said hesitantly, looking up from his mother's embrace to his father. Unfortunately, he finished off the sentiment with a sarcastic, "Fatherhood suits you."
And with that, the prince grabbed the headphones off the boy's desk, and chucked the device in Trunks' face for his insolent remark. He boy howled with pain, as Vegeta noticed the mark it left on his forehead. He smiled smugly.
For the last eight months, Vegeta felt that his role was reversed with Bulma. He was used to his woman answering to his every beck and call, he was used to coming home after training and expecting a complete meal prepared, and he was used to satisfaction in the bedroom.
Only one of the three things he expected came true. Bulma's hormones acted up spontaneously, and she was always more than ready for what she called "mommy-daddy fun time". While the name she gave sexual intercourse was repulsive, it didn't stop him from complying with her needs. However, now it was his turn to act servant to her queenly orders, and cook and clean for the family.
Technically, "cooking" meant ordering one of the Capsule Corporation's employees to order food from what Trunks informed him was called a fast food restaurant, so that was one deed he didn't have to deal with. But the cleaning and the servitude was enough to put him in a constant foul mood.
But now it was finally coming to an end, as her gestation period was about to cease. Here, in what the humans called a hospital, he paced the hallway back and forth, conflicted between the desperate need to leave the place with its strange smells of sick and disinfectant, and his desire to look upon the face of his new son.
Trunks and Bulma's parents were sitting patiently in the waiting room. He left within thirty minutes of idle sitting, not being one for staying in place in the middle of a dire situation. Bulma had inquired if he wanted to be in the room during the delivery, but he outright refused. He didn't want any sight of her to spoil the way he saw her, thank you very much. He'd rather maintain the image of her as the irrisistably luscious woman she was.
He'd been pacing for the last five hours. He didn't expect labour to be so time-consuming, but he was informed by Bunny Brief that she had been in labour with Bulma for thirteen hours, and that, if he were there to have witnessed it, Bulma was in labour with trunks for a good twenty-one. Five hours was nothing.
It wasn't nothing to him, however. He was agitated, anxious, and nervous. He hated to admit it, but he hadn't been the best father figure to the first boy. What if he was an even bigger failure with the second? What if this new one was less forgiving than the first one, and wanted nothing to do with him? He didn't mind if he didn't have to take too big a part in the life of a new child, but he'd like to at least make some sort of impression. It did Trunks some good; after all, else he would've turned out to be a puss.
The door to Bulma's delivery room suddenly creaked open, and a hazard looking woman in white peered out from behind. When Vegeta caught her eye, she smiled at him.
"Mr. Vegeta, they're ready to see you!" she exclaimed cheerily. Vegeta held back a growl at her demeanor.
He followed the woman back into the room, only to find his wife lying in the starchy bed, sweat-soaked, exhausted, but utterly happy, holding a bundle of what appeared to be towels in her arms. She was murmuring to the baby, and didn't notice his presence until he cleared his throat, which made her look up. Her eyes were shining as she looked at him, and she beckoned him forward to meet the new addition to their family.
He stalked over wearily, trying to maintain gruff while doing so. He wasn't too sure what to do, now that the kid was here. Bulma seemed to know what to do naturally. He didn't even know how to hold an infant - how was he supposed to know how to hold one that literally just came out of the womb? And was he even expected to hold it at all?
"Vegeta," Bulma said softly, looking at the bundle, "say hello to your new daughter."
It took him a few seconds to finally wrap his head around what she had just stated. Daughter.
"Daughter?" he asked incredulously, stopping in his tracks. "Woman, did you just say daughter?"
She gave him a funny look. "Of course. Now quit gaping at me and get your stupid saiyan ass over here!"
"No," he muttered, his brows furrowing, "that can't be right. How could it be a girl?"
"I'm sorry hon, did you say something?"
He stared at his wife, and what was supposedly his daughter. It was impossible! How could he, Vegeta, Saiyan Prince, produce a girl? His entire lineage had been male! His father produced two sons, and by his knowledge, so did the rest of his clan. Even Kakarot, of all saiyans, third class and everything, had managed to father two sons! And he could not? Impossible! He couldn't be a failure, not compared to Kakarot!
"Vegeta, seriously, what is the matter with you? Come here!" Bulma demanded, now giving him an evil glare. Still trying to shake the shock from his entire being, he stiffly walked over to her, but refused to peer at the infant.
"I hope the delivery went well?" he inquired gruffly, crossing his arms and peering down at her from over his nose.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Why yes," she answered in sarcastic cordiality, "the delivery went very smoothly. Along with the help of the doctors, I managed to push the baby out of my uterus and through my vaginal opening."
"Well, congratulations on your successful birthing then. You look marginally better than what I expected."
She gave him another one of her famous eye-rolls, and turned her attention back to the new baby. "Now what should we name you, little one?"
Vegeta stood there awkwardly while his wife continued her musings with the infant. He didn't know what to do. He still didn't get a glimpse of the new child, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. A girl! What was he supposed to do with a girl? A boy he knew how to handle. Boys were simple - all they needed was training, food, and a nest for sleeping. Hell, Trunks had more than a nest, and the boy turned out perfectly fine. But a girl? Did girls even train? How would he be able to train a girl? How was he even supposed to act around a girl? His only experience with women came in the form of Bulma and Bunny brief. He barely paid Bunny any attention, and his wife was more or less independent from him.
"Here, Vegeta, hold her," Bulma said, lifting her weak arms and offering the bundle to him.
He recoiled. "Woman, I suggest you put that down before you drop it!"
She shot him a nasty look. "She's a girl, Vegeta, not some immobile object. What's the matter with you?"
He didn't voice his concern, but after a few moments, he figured Bulma could deduce why he was acting the way he did, because she looked at him tenderly. He shifted uncomfortably.
"Vegeta, she's a girl, not a monster. I know you wanted another boy - heck, you probably expected another boy - but the fates aren't always so kind. Or perhaps the fates have been kind, and they're giving you a chance to improve your nurturing skills."
"I don't need nurturing skills," he spat out, crossing his arms again. "And whether it's a boy or a girl, I couldn't giving a flying fu - "
"Vegeta," she cut in, giving him a warning look, "don't be nervous. She won't kill you. She's half you anyhow! Besides, I've always wanted a daughter, and you like sons. We have one of each, so now we can have a more balanced household."
One of each. That was true enough. He had helped create a balance. Kakarot couldn't' do that now, could he? Perhaps this just proved his superiority. Even in the circle of life, he was able to produce offspring of both genders.
After giving him his needed moment of reflection, Bulma interrupted his thoughts. "You wanna hold her now?"
He pulled a face and grumbled, but gave her a curt nod. Once more, she lifted the bundle towards him, and he moved forward to take it from her. Of cou8rse, since he had no experience with this, he fumbled slightly, and made a mess of the whole process.
"Gently," Bulma murmured, sitting up and keeping one hand on the baby. "Put one hand under her head, and use your other to support her back... there you go. You can transfer the weight to your arms once you feel more confident."
"I'm always confident, woman," he muttered, more to himself, but she caught it and smiled. He noticed that Bulma's hand was back to her side, and that she was resting against her pillows again.
He looked down at the bundle in his arms, but the face was obscured by the blankets. He gingerly removed one arm, and used his hands to brush aside the blankets to reveal the child beneath them.
The girl was pink. Were babies supposed to be pink? He glanced over at Bulma, he was already asleep. Her skin was pale, but it wasn't pink. Trunks took after his own tanned skin colour. So why was this one pink?
He looked at her again. No hair rested upon her soft-looking head. Eyes shifting around cautiously, he noticed that no one was in the room, save for his sleeping mate, so he used the same hand that manoeuvred the blankets to press very softly down on the girl's head. It was weird. It molded to his fingers. He shivered, a look of disgust playing on his face.
The baby's eyes were closed, but the features made her look somewhat like a turtle. This was supposed to be how a saiyan-human hybrid infant looked like? He couldn't ever recall Trunks looking this repulsive. Then again, he wasn't even introduced to Trunks until the child was at least two months old.
He heard the door open, and looked over to see the rest of his clan come in. He noticed that Trunks tried unsuccessfully to hide the surprise in his face to see his father holding a brand new baby.
"The nurse told us to come on in to meet the kid!" Dr. Brief exclaimed as quietly as he could. The look of sheer delight on his face showed how much he already loved his new grandchild despite never having had the opportunity to even glimpse at her.
"Oh Vegeta, darling, you look so cute holding the baby!" Bunny remarked, eyes closed as always. How she managed to walk without bumping into anything was beyond him. She sauntered her way over to him, and motioned towards the child. He held out his arms, and the happy grandmother took his daughter away.
For some reason, he felt a hollow feeling in his chest once the baby was transferred to Bunny. It was odd.
"Oh just look at her honey," she said to her husband. The man walked over, and the two cooed over the baby. "She is so beautiful!"
Vegeta raised an eyebrow at this comment; considering how she took after a reptile, with a mushy head, he doubted the sincerity of their words.
"So what's her name, dad?" Trunks asked, as he walked over to his new sibling. He looked up at his father with a look on inquiry.
Vegeta shrugged. "That's her decision," he nodded towards the still sleeping Bulma.
"I guess she can't escape the family tradition of being named after an undergarment then," Trunks replied. He took his sister from Bunny's arms, and cradled her in his own. "Looks a bit funny."
He couldn't argue with that logic, as he agreed whole heartedly. But if Trunks turned out to look acceptable, he supposed his daughter would too.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable in this picture-perfect moment, Vegeta removed himself from the room, and back into the hallway. The first hurdle of meeting his new offspring was over with. If he was able to survive that - complete with holding her for a good ten minutes - then he figured he'd be able to survive the rest. Hopefully.
Two months later, his musings came true. The girl had grown out of her turtle-ish looks, her head hardened up, and she grew hair. It wasn't lavender the way the boy's was, but it was blue, just like Bulma's.
He had a feeling the girl would take after Bulma. And he was grateful, since he couldn't imagine a girl looking anything like him, widow's peak and all.
He noticed the shift in the household. It was generally messier now, toys littering every square inch of the floor. Why a baby needed all those toys, he didn't know, but he supposed it was good that his daughter should want for nothing. Bulma was awake more than she was asleep; her duties to the company took a backseat to her nurturing of her new baby, and she wasn't as quick to anger as she normally was. This was a benefit of motherhood, as he was getting tired of her constant nit-picking towards him. What was not a benefit, however, was her fatigue, and how their sex life was basically non-existent.
Even Trunks was stepping up to the role of big brother. He fed, changed, bathed, and played with his sister. He looked after her when Bulma was unable to tear herself away from the company and her duties, and he willingly spent time with her, often lying on the couch with the baby balanced on his stomach.
He did notice, however, that Bulma rarely ever left him alone with the girl. She had explained a month ago, that she knew of his discomfort around children, and that he still needed time to adjust to the idea of being father to a daughter. A month ago, he was relieved. A month later, he was starting to feel left out.
Since the time in the hospital, he had never been left alone with the girl. He didn't want to be left alone with the girl since he had no idea what to do, but he did want a role in her life, aside from the role of barely-present-father. She was more pleasant to look at now, so he didn`t cringe every time he set his eyes on her. And he did admit that he was coming around to the idea of having a girl.
He wandered around the house, taking a break from his training for the day. He heard a blaring noise coming from the den, and walked in that direction, thinking perhaps he would come into the company of either Bulma or Trunks. Hopefully not of that Bunny Brief though. He did not like her company.
He made his way into the den, only to catch a sleeping Trunks lying haphazardly on the couch, television turned on to the highest volume level. Vegeta could hardly hear himself think. He looked around the room, taking in the mess of toys, discarded candy wrappers, and empty crushed cans of soda. And then his eyes landed on the cradle by the boy's feet, and he noticed it held the girl.
He quietly strode towards the cradle and peered in skeptically. She was awake, and his shadow looking over her caught her attention. She gave him a look of confusion, as if she had no clue as to who this stranger was, and what he was doing, staring down at her.
He couldn't blame her for that look - he barely had any interaction with the child. But didn't all of that nurturing stuff fall naturally to the mother?
He tossed aside the towel that was draped on his shoulder to the floor. Using his foot, he nudged the cradle, making it rock on its feet. A small gurgle of delight emitted from the depths of the contraption. He glanced towards Trunks, and noticed the boy was still asleep. He then turned his attention back towards the girl. He nudged the cradle again, a bit harder this time, causing the cradle to rock in a steadier rhythm. She gave a bubbly laugh, and he realized he couldn't hold back the tiny smile that was slowly forming from his mouth.
And since she liked the rocking so much, he kept up the continuous nudging, causing her to erupt in excited giggles. He was now smiling openly with the girl, pushing the cradle to and fro, enjoying the feeling of being the cause to such a positive reaction. She was laughing so loudly now, and he was feeling fantastic at making a good impression, that he figured he could push the cradle a bit harder, making the rocking motion even more enjoyable for her. So he nudged with more strength.
But the cradle rocked violently from side to side, causing the girl within it to start whimpering. And then when the rocking didn't stop, the girl started to cry, and her crying noises were starting to lift above the sound from the television set. He didn't want Trunks to wake up and become witness to his father's actions. He didn't want the boy to know that he had made the girl cry, and he didn't want the boy to tell Bulma, which would result in her throwing a fit, and throwing things at his head. But most of all, he didn't want the boy to see his failure at playing with the girl.
He couldn't even manage that! Just simple playing and he made her cry.
Reaching forward on instinct, he took hold of the infant, and lifted her out of the still moving cradle. He held her out in arm's length, and she was still wailing, and he panicked. Why did he lift her out? He should've left her, quickly run out of the room, and wait until Trunks got up from her slumber to attend to the baby. But of course, he acted without thinking - a trait of Kakarot's, not his - and held her. Not knowing what to do, he held the girl out and glared at her, willing her to stop her crying.
"Hold her against your chest," said a groggy voice from the couch. He looked over to see Trunks rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and getting up slowly.
Not liking taking orders from a subordinate, he rolled his eyes. The girl still kept up her crying.
"Dad, just hold her against you. Holding her out like that is uncomfortable for a baby. Obviously," Trunks said, rolling his eyes at his father. He grabbed the remote and lowered the volume.
Vegeta sneered at his son, but took his advice. He gingerly held the girl to his chest. Instantly, the crying turned into slight whimpering, and the whimpering turned into slight hiccups, until finally, she quieted down and snuggled against him.
"There you go," Trunks said, propping his feet on the coffee table. "Once you get the hang of it, it won't be so painful."
The saiyan grunted in response to his son, and made his way out of the room, still clutching onto the child. He didn't want to be around the boy and his mess and noise, and he doubted the girl, now awake, would want to be exposed to that either. So he stalked off into the hall with his daughter, who had fallen into a deep sleep in his arms.
But now that he had the baby, he didn't know what to do. What was one supposed to do with a baby? He couldn't well get back into the Gravity Room to train; for once in his life, he didn't feel very hungry, and he couldn't bring her back into the den and face further questioning from Trunks as to why he was there in the first place.
And then the idea struck him. He could fly. And he could take her with him! She was asleep anyway, so it's not like she would notice. Bulma was nowhere to be seen, and Trunks was too preoccupied with his own life to care. Plus, flying would give him something to do, and he wouldn't be flying at too high an altitude or too quick a pace. Flying would do her well; give her the fresh air he thought she needed. And it was never too early to introduce a saiyan offspring to the art of flying.
It was a fantastic idea, and it was a great way to start a relationship with a girl.
Or at least, it was the best way he knew how, since he had absolutely no clue what the hell he was doing.
Vegeta congratulated himself on his feat. He managed to stay flying with the girl for a good hour and forty minutes. She awoke mid-air at one point, looked around, and smiled up at him, before turning her face back against his chest to fall asleep once more. It surprisingly made him feel really good.
He was now back in the house, making his way to the girl's room. He had already walked past the den, peered in, and noticed that Trunks was back to sleep on the couch, looking every inch the lazy slob he was. He raised his eyebrows at the boy, but made no verbal comment. He continued on his way to the girl's room.
"Bra! There you are!"
Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the high-pitched voice of his wife. He looked to his left, where the hall split into two, and saw that Bulma was now walking quickly towards them, smiling brightly.
"I thought I left you with your big brother!" Bulma said, as she finally stopped in front of her husband. The baby's eyes slowly came apart as she peered at her mother. Recognition hit the girl's face, and she smiled back at Bulma.
"I was just in the den looking for you, baby girl! Your big brother is asleep, isn't he? He wasn't doing a very good job looking after you, was he? Strange, since he usually does..."
Vegeta stood there stiffly, his arms frozen in place around the baby. They were starting to give off a dull throbbing pain, as he held that position for the last two hours.
"But now your daddy's holding you! How sweet!" Bulma exclaimed, reaching over to Vegeta and planting a particularly loud kiss on cheek. If he had the use of his arms, he would've brushed her away, along with the kiss she left. He felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment.
"So how do you like your daddy, little one? Isn't he just the most adorable man on Earth? Look at him, with his big strong arms around you, protecting you like the warrior he is!" She lifted her face away from the infant, and look at her husband. "So what did you do with Bra, Vegeta?"
"We went out flying," he replied curtly, avoiding her gaze.
He refused to repeat himself, knowing full well she heard him.
"Vegeta, you idiot! How could you take her flying?" she asked, a look of incredulity on her face.
"Why not? Seriously, Vegeta? She's not even a year old! She can't handle the pressure of changing altitudes, she's barely wearing anything and might have caught a cold, and she's not ready to do so yet!"
"I made sure she was warm," he said defensively. "I didn't allow her to fall, I didn't fly at my usual pace, and I flew low so there was no change in altitude."
Bulma relaxed her features, but he noticed she still furrowed her brows. "Look, Vegeta, I'm not saying you weren't being careful, but I'm just saying that she shouldn't be flying right now! Really, there could have been some serious consequences, you doofus."
He didn't answer her, but felt his arms tighten around the girl. He wasn't stupid enough to drop his own child mid-flight! Nor was he stupid enough not to take precautions to make sure her well-being was taken care of.
He heard Bulma sigh, a sign that she wanted to drop the issue. He didn't want to quarrel with her either, but he would have, if she were to insult him again.
"She's probably hungry," Bulma said, reaching for the girl. "Here, let me take her so I can feed her." His wife had lifted the girl off his arms and into her own.
But suddenly, the girl let out an ear-piercing shriek, kicking and flailing her limbs in every direction she could reach. He watched as Bulma struggled to contain the girl in her arms. "Bra, stop that! You need feeding! Don't - stop that right now!"
The girl ignored her mother, still screaming bloody murder. Vegeta watched the scene, highly amused. The girl didn't cry once during flight, but back on ground, and in the arms of her mother, she couldn't stop screaming.
"Don't just stand there like an imbecile, Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, her voice carrying over the girl's. "A little help would be much appreciated!"
He didn't really know what to do, but again, instinct had taken over him, and he removed the girl from her mother, and back into the cradle of his own arms. A few more wails came out from her gaping mouth before she realized the transition that happened. She calmed down, looked up at the man, and shoved her face into the crook of his arm.
He couldn't help but smirk at the look on Bulma's face. His wife had her mouth open, a brow raised with a slightly suspicious look on her face, and her cheeks flushed with irritation.
"Problem solved," he said smoothly, turn around and moving towards the girl's room. He heard Bulma walking up behind him as he entered the room, and laid the girl in her crib. She promptly fell asleep.
"How did you do that?" Bulma asked, still shocked beyond belief. "You don't like babies, and babies don't like you!"
"What are you rattling on about, woman?" he demanded, turning around expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Babies don't like you, Vegeta," she repeated, shaking her head. "It took Trunks a good year to get used to you, and even then he still cried whenever you shoved your mug into his face."
That much was true, he had to admit. The boy had been terrified of him until the age of three, when he basically forced his son to train with him the gravity room. To Vegeta, fear was a sign of respect.
"And you don't like babies, either! You wanted nothing to do with Trunks until he was able to walk, feed, and speak for himself."
"Perhaps this one likes me," he said evenly, looking around his shoulder to the girl. He didn't even realize he was smiling slightly as he looked at her, but he did see the look Bulma gave him when he faced her again. "What is it, woman? Spit it out!"
"Nothing," she said petulantly, walking past him to peer into the crib. She brushed the girl across the cheek.
Bulma looked up at him with a sly, secretive grin. "Perhaps you're right, Vegeta. Perhaps there is finally a baby out there who actually likes you." She reached out to him, put a hand on his chest, and leaned in to give him a kiss.
She started walking out the room, but turned around once she reached the door, the grin never leaving her face. "And perhaps, you like her too."
And with that, his wife walked out of the room, leaving him alone again with the girl. He learned over the crib, hands clutching the edge, and looked at the girl.
He really needed to stop referring to the baby as "the girl". After all, she did have a name. He didn't particularly like the name, but he couldn't offer up anything better than the one Bulma suggested. Her name was Bra, and she was his daughter.
Vegeta sighed, resting his chin on his arms, still looking at the girl. He couldn't help but feel a sense of peace, standing there protectively over this crib. It was the same feeling he had the first time he went out flying with Trunks, and it was the same feeling he had every night when he held Bulma against him while he slept. If he could feel this way about his daughter, then he knew that he could forge some sort of bond with her in the future.
Checking to make sure nobody was around, he cautiously put his hand on top of the girl's head - Bra's head - and brushed the hair out of her face with his thumb. And because he was feeling bolder than usual, he leaned in tentatively, and gently brushed his lips across her forehead.
He pulled away from her, and realized he was smiling now. Bra made no reaction to his actions, and slept on obliviously. He was about to move away from the crib, when an irritating voice grated his sensitive ears.
"I saw that, by the way," came a voice from the door.
Of course, it was Bulma. How could he not have sensed her? Her energy was one he always sensed and made notice of! Great. She had caught him in a vulnerable and embarrassing moment.
"Damnit!" he cried, stomping his foot in anger.
Bra proceeded to cry.
A/N: hello readers, i hope you enjoyed reading this. i've suddenly become obsessed (again) with dbz, and really wanted to write something to do with vegeta. so here it is.
pelase be aware that this is a continuous story. there is not particular timeline - each chapter is its own individual story technically. think of each chapter as one-shorts, but combined into one story, just to make life easier.
anyway, i will be adding onto this story when i get the opportunity to write, therefore, this story won't be complete until i feel completely satisfied with all the chapters i have given in to it.
thanks for your reading, and as always, please review!