Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ In These Moments ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters used in this piece of fanfiction. I am not making any profit off of this story.

Author's Note: Alrighty! This is the Father's Day B/V fic! It's not a get together, but it is a B/V romance! I got a lot of excellent feedback from the Mother's Day fic, so this is going to be somewhat like that, but in Vegeta's point of view, and, of course, for Father's Day. Remember though, this has nothing to do with any of the other holiday series fics!

Special Thanks to Vegetababe and Bulma Peacecraft for Beta-ing! Also, thanks again go to Vegetababe and Marau-chan for giving me the idea to do a holiday series.

In These Moments

I wake up to the sound of a baby's cry and, looking at the clock, I realize how late it is. 5:30 in the morning. I turn over and am about to nudge my mate, but then I notice how peaceful she looks, and I remember what a rough day she's had. She usually doesn't sleep so deeply.

Carefully, I roll out of our bed, making sure not to jar the mattress too much, for fear of waking my woman up. For once, I think I will check on the brat. What a fitting occasion to do it too, seeing as the woman has been prattling on all day about how it's 'Father's Day' or something like that.

Quietly, I pad out into the hallway and into Trunks' room. Trunks…Feh. What a horrible name. If we had been on Vegetasei, not even the fact that he is technically the new Prince would keep soldiers from laughing behind his back. He himself isn't too bad though, I can feel his power all ready, and it's much higher when mine was when I was that young. I have one up over the brat though, because I wasn't that fat.

I lean carefully over the edge of the large wooden crib Trunks sleeps in, and look down to see him staring up at me with those big blue eyes, definitely his mother's. He seems almost surprised to see me, as Bulma is normally the one to tend to him, but he quickly recovers from his initial confusion and smiles up at me with that big toothless mouth. He flails his chubby little limbs and whimpers, wanting me to pick him up or something. I take a quick whiff of the air before I give in though, because I don't want to be the one changing diapers. That is definitely not my job.

Carefully, I reach down into the crib and pick up the squirming brat, not quite sure what to do with him once I have him. He smiles and giggles at me, and makes some unintelligible noises, thinking this must be a game of some sort. His face begins to scrunch up, however, when he tries to grab out for me, but finds he cannot quite reach. Quickly, I recall what my mate has told me about holding babies, and I shift Trunks so that I can cradle him in my arms as I have seen his mother do. This seems to satisfy the brat, because he settles down a bit and snuggles into me.

I feel a lock of silky lavender hair brush my forearm, and I snort lightly; another thing he has inherited from his mother. Sometimes I hate that woman for doing this to me, for making me love her and this brat in my arms. I won't deny that I sometimes miss the old me, the one that was strong, who didn't let anything get in his way. Only sometimes though, because then I remember the loneliness that me felt, and I know that if I were given the chance to re-live my life, I wouldn't change a thing. Corny, I know, but I figure it's okay to think it, as long as I don't say it out loud.

I know I have changed a lot since I met my woman, and at first I thought it was for the worse, but looking back…looking back I see that I have finally found happiness, and that suits me just fine. And hey, it could have been worse. I could have been the one to bonk my head, rather than Kakkarot, and end up with Chi-Chi… That thought is enough to make a man's skin crawl.

I feel Trunks begin to squirm again, and I shift him so he is on his back while I move to sit down in the antique rocker in the corner. I hold him carefully in my lap as I rock us slowly back and forth, and he seems perfectly content to giggle and suck on his toes as I look on in disgust. Did I ever do that? I probably chewed on my tail, but because of my damn woman, my son doesn't have that option. Toe sucking must be a human thing.

Gently, I pull his foot out of his mouth, unable to watch any longer, and he grabs my hand as a replacement and begins to gum on my thumb. He must be teething, so I pull my hand away and reach for the rubber teething toy on the dresser. Trunks' chubby little features twist themselves into a scowl though, and he refuses to accept it. With a sigh, I put the toy back in its place and pick the baby up, preparing to put him back to bed.

To my complete and utter surprise, I feel his little gums latch onto my nipple. My eyes widen in surprise as I realize what must be going through his head right now. "Whoa kid," I mutter, "you've got the wrong parent." I try to pull him off, but he's got a good grip on me, and it hurts. Suddenly, I have a new appreciation for Bulma, who happens to pick the perfect time to walk into the room. She just had to wait until after the fatherly moment was over, and walk in, much to my embarrassment, as the brat is trying to suck milk from me.

I hear her laugh and I turn around, still trying to pry the kid off of me. "I think he's hungry." I say simply, and she laughs again, lightly, like an angel. I like that about her, because she's probably the closest I'll ever get to heaven.

"Trunks, baby," she coos, and the child loosens his hold on me long enough for me to pull him away. "Mama's here." I hand her the child, who gurgles happily, eyeing the folds of her robe with such intensity that I can't help but to be a little jealous. She shuffles over to the rocking chair that I had just vacated, and I can tell by the look on her face that it is still warm. She knows I've been here for a while.

I watch in utter fascination as she opens her robe up and offers her breast to Trunks, who latches on and begins to suckle at her greedily. I have never seen a woman breast-feed her child before now, but it has to be one of the most beautiful things I will ever see. The woman I love is sitting in front of me, feeding the child that we created together, and it amazes me. I still find it hard to believe that I have a son. Every morning, I wake up and expect to find myself back in the barracks in Frieza's army, but instead, I find a beautiful woman, my mate, curled up in my arms, and I know that our child is asleep in the very next room.

With a happy sigh, Trunks pulls away, and Bulma burps him quickly before laying the yawning child back in his crib. She covers him up and turns off the light, and we just stand there for a while as he falls asleep, looking at what we made. I find my arm snaking around her waist, and she snuggles closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. She must be completely exhausted.

"You look tired." I murmur against her silky locks. "We should go back to bed."

"Hai…" she yawns, and nods against my chest, leaning on me. Gently, I pick my mate up, and carry her back to our room, where I lay her down in the bed and crawl in beside her. She snuggles deep into my arms, and I hold her closely. I am in one of my very rare 'snuggling with no sex' moods, and Bulma better appreciate it…

Bulma…it's in moments like these that I realize just how much I love her, just how deep the extent of my feelings for her are. I know I've never actually told her what I feel for her, even though she tells me all the time. I think I'll tell her one day, when I finally figure out just how to express myself properly. These emotions are just too hard to deal with. In the meantime though, I think Bulma is content to just have me here with here, and besides, I think she knows anyway.

Well, that's it! I hope you liked it! Remember to review please! Oh, and before I forget, if you want to be emailed when new fics come out, either say so in your review and leave your email address, or email me at cat_girl_26@hotmail.com (preferably the latter) Anyways, Happy Father's day to all you Daddy's out there!